Work Text:
Beth was ready dressed and ready to leave earlier than even she expected. After the prison visit, finding out her brother was either involved or knew more than he was telling, lit a fire in her belly she hadn’t felt in a long time. She wanted answers, before she killed him. She wanted to know why he refused to tell the police who tried to kill his family. But then she’d remember, they weren’t his family. He had no real connection with them. He didn’t love them. He didn’t care that she and their father were in the ICU for months. They both nearly died. Her PTSD was so bad, she couldn’t handle hearing a fucking wind chime on the porch. He didn’t come to the hospital. He didn’t come to the house since they’ve been released. She wanted to know how much and how involved her brother was in their attempted murders. If he knew all along, if he put up a defense, she was prepared to kill him in his office. She didn’t care if everyone heard him scream. She didn’t care if they found her with the knife still in her hand. She could go to prison today and not have to worry about anything. ‘Morning, Mama,’ her trance suddenly broke, but only enough to respond with a sweet morning smile. The boys face lighting up when he saw her walking through the barn. His eyes brighter than they had been the night before. The enthusiasm in his voice just seeing her, melted her heart. He truly was a sweet, amazing kid. He just needed someone to give him a chance, or two. “Hey, baby,” she replied without thinking, until she did. Pausing before she reached the door, frozen for half a second. She could feel the tears already building. Her jaw ached from the tension. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her mouth went dry. She could feel the uncomfortableness in her lower back, phantom cramps that never seemed to disappear all together. A think layer of sweat coated her skin. “You can't call me that,” she said softly, the hurt in her chest, exploding, at her own words. She had wanted, more than anything, for him to feel comfortable enough to think of her as his mother. To seek her out for comfort and praise. To look to her for guidance. Now that she had it, she was terrified. The look on Rips face, when he said Carter would never be their son, flashed in her mind. He wasn’t hesitant with his words. He didn’t try to take them back when he saw how defeated they made her feel. It made her feel that he really didn’t want to be a father. He’d never thought about it because he never intended to be in that position; even though they already had been. And the end result was slowly destroying her. ‘Why not?’ Was all his confused, innocent brain could think to ask. She was proud of him for listening to her when he finally came to apologize. She wanted him to ask a thousand questions a day if he had to. She wanted to answer them all, except this one.
She didn’t know why she was pushing him away so hard this morning. Why she was overly emotional, when she was normally the one in control of every situation. She didn’t know how to answer him. He should be able to call her anything he wanted. In the grand scheme of the world, it didn’t matter. It didn’t hurt her. She liked it. But she continued pushing. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop the tears from falling, as she glanced at his heart broken face. “Because it's not true,” she replied softly, swallowing down the painful memories that threatened to surface. She watched the tears well up in his eyes. His pale cheeks turning pink. His grip on the shovel tightening as he tried to control the emotional pain, the same way Rip used to. His innocent blue eyes looked so confused and broken. The same as when he was told his father was dead and he had no one left. He was going into a system that allowed grown men to rape him over and over again, with no punishment. She wanted to make it better. She wanted to show him life and people could be different. But she couldn’t bond with him in that way, if her husband was gonna continue to remind her of what he really was to them. ‘I just thought 'cause I don't have one, you could be it,’ he said, and she could see he believed it. He saw her that way. He wanted her to be that for him. He wanted so badly to be mothered and accepted by her. To feel he would always be loved and safe. ‘You been acting like it,’ he said as his chin trembled.
Beth hadn’t thought she was doing anything special. She was feeding him, clothing him. Giving him basic things. Teaching him, when she had the opportunity. She would have moved him back into the house already, but was hesitant to bring it up with Rip. She wanted to give them a chance to create something. But her husband acted as if he didn’t want it. How was she supposed to put him in that position again? “I've been acting like your friend, which is what I am,” she tried to justify with the same attitude she displayed at the hospital. A little cold, distant; the opposite of how she really felt. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to make the devastate look disappear from his face. She wanted to tell him she didn’t mean it, it wasn’t him she was trying to punish. But how would she explain to a fourteen year old child, what happened to her? What she’d done when she was his age? How she lost everything for so long, because of a mistake she couldn’t fix. She could barely explain how she felt to her husband, and could only tell her father the bare minimum. She couldn’t confuse a little boy with her adult problem. Her emotional issues. “You lost your mother, kid. You don't get another. I lost mine. Same goes for me,” she watched his face fall. She could see the memories start to play in his mind, probably of real mother, his father that he did love, but left in with confusion and a lot of anger. She wanted to help him deal with it, understand it, but she couldn’t even understand her own trauma. How was she supposed to help him through his? How was she supposed to support him as he grieved, and learned to cope, when she didn’t know how to mental cope herself. “And I'm nobody's mother. Ever,” she said, feeling her stomach clench. The scar on her belly ache. She felt sweat already pouring down her neck and back. She couldn’t help grinding her back teeth, as her eyes burned. She had to bite the inside of her cheek, to feel anything but the ache in her heart. It hurt more saying the words out loud than thinking them in her head. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted to have Rips baby, again. She wanted to know what it felt like. Beth was even content with being Carters mom. She was happy with him. Her immediate response to his words, showed how much she subconsciously wanted him. He would see and feel it, so could she. She knew her husband could see it. Her father was too familiar with the magnetic pull, a child not biologically theirs, could have. “You got it?” She said a little harsher than she intended, but Rips words continued to echo in her head. The way he reacted the first night she brought him home, playing over and over in her head. She didn’t know how he treated the young boy when she wasn’t around, but they barely interacted in front of her. Most of the time, when Carter would eat inside, it was her father and John keeping him engaged. Her husband wasn’t a talker by nature, but he could carry on a conversation about any subject involving cowboying. Why he never tried talking to him about it, she didn’t ask. When she looked up at his face again, she saw the tears, that took what was left of her soul. His chin and bottom lip trembling the hope disappearing from his innocent eyes. She wanted to take it back, but didn’t know how. “Crying doesn't help,” she said a little softer, but knew her face didn’t change. She had to swallow hard not to vomit, as he cried a little more. The look of abandonment and broken trust on his sweet face hurt more than the physical burns to her back. She hated herself more and more the dimmer the spark in his eyes became. “Never does,” she said a little quieter, having to turn away as unbearable pain erupted in her chest.
*
When she got back hours later, not heading to prison, she saw Carter heading into the house as she parked out front. He turned and glanced at her, but didn’t smile like he usually did. He didn’t wave or run to her. She actually saw his chin tremble all over again. She was too far away to see the tears, but knew they were there, as he wiped his cheek on his sleeve. She felt her heart shatter in her chest. She couldn’t catch her breath, as he disappeared inside the house. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach, her scar ached like it was the first time changing the bandage. She wanted to yell his name. She wanted to run up the steps and apologize, but she didn’t know how. She promised herself, when she brought him home, she wouldn’t hurt him, like her mother did her. She wouldn’t say hateful shit she didn’t mean. She wouldn’t try to hurt his feelings to make him stronger. She would never make him cry. She wouldn’t break his trust, and heart. And she did it all in less than six hours.
She didn’t know how long she sat in the silence her car provided. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying. It was long enough for Rip to come looking for her, worried about her. Obviously, Carter would have told them, he saw her pull in. She didn’t hear him walking across the gravel, or saying her name through the window. She couldn’t hear anything, but the boys sniffles and slight whimper as she walked away a few hours before. His voice almost begging for her to accept him. She couldn’t see anything, but his watery blue eyes and trembling chin. She didn’t hear Rip knock on the window, as her own self destructive thoughts began sucking her in. She knew she shouldn’t be responsible for raising a child. He was right for saying the kid wasn’t their son, and never would be. She didn’t have the patience for it. She didn’t have the filter. She wasn’t moral or rational. Why did she think she could raise a child? Why did she voluntarily put Carter through what Rip went through? How did she think it would be any different; that she could be different? She planned to go to prison that morning, leaving them both alone. What mother thinks like that? She jumped when her door suddenly opened. Feeling dizzy for half a second, before realizing it was Rip. She still had to take a minute, before she glanced up at him. The worry on his face, made her feel worse. She didn’t to herself, she didn’t deserve his comfort. She didn’t deserve anyone’s. She tried to wipe her face, until her husband was crouching down beside her. Brushing her hand away, and running his warm, heavy hand up her bare thigh.
When Carter came in the house, crying all over again, he knew something was wrong. He refused to look up. Refused to go outside and check on Beth when he asked. He actually looked scared. The expression on her father’s face was confusion and concern, just how he felt. Carter didn’t act scared or run away from Beth. She was the one he ran to. She protected him from most of his harsh words. She refused to let him eat or sleep in the tack room, after she heard the way the cowboys were talking around him. It wasn’t the swearing. It was the sexual comments around a fourteen year old, molested, impressionable boy. He already wasn’t that comfortable around him, but Rip tried to keep his physical distance and be a little softer when he was trying to teach him. He wanted him as comfortable with him as he was with Beth. Now, he didn’t seem to trust anyone. She hadn’t even been home all day. How could anything have happened without him seeing it? She would have told him if he pissed her off again. He would have complained if she said something sarcastic. The look on Carters face, looked like someone broke his heart. He knew that look all too well. “What’s going on?” He asked, softer than he would have six months ago, but he learned fast, he could get more for her, if he coddled her a little. If he was sweet and gentle. Yelling and demanding only caused her to shut down. She needed to feel safe and comfortable in order to be vulnerable. She needed patience. After twenty years of chasing her around, if he didn’t have patience, he’d never get it. He had more time for her, than the ranch and himself. She was all that mattered. “Sweetheart, what happened?” He asked a little softer, as more tears slid down her cheek. He didn’t stop himself from wiping them away, even when she tried to turn her face.
Beth tried not to turn away. She tried to hold her husbands soft gaze, but it was too compassionate. He was too open. All he cared or worried about was her. No matter what she did, he was still right there, comforting her. She didn’t feel like she deserved the comfort. “It’s nothing; bad day,” she muttered, not knowing how to tell him what she’d done to the child she cared for much for. That she dealt with Rips frustration over. She was ashamed. She was so guarded, so damaged; she couldn’t let in the fourteen year old boy that wanted nothing but love. How could Rip still look at her the same after knowing that? “Rather not talk about it,” she muttered, trying to lean into his touch, but her body wouldn’t let her.
For a second, Rip thought he was wrong. That the two were upset about different things. She hadn’t seen Carter all day, why would she be crying? Then He remembered the look on her face when she finally looked at him, before jumping in her car. The pink nose and cheeks. The watery green eyes. Something happened. She said something without thinking or realizing why she was talking to, or the kid did something else to piss her off. “You know I’ve been with Carter all day, right?” He asked carefully, trying to be gentle. But he saw her walk through the barn where Carter was working. He was fine when he woke up that morning. He was laughing during breakfast with Lloyd. THe even smiled at him, when he handed him his old cowboy hat. He was still shy and afraid to say much, but he could see the gratefulness in his eyes. The little freckles across his cheeks, that reminded him of Beth’s. But the moment he walked back into the barn, after chasing down his wife, Carter was in tears, head down, refusing to look up when he asked. He wouldn’t tell him what happened, just that he wasn’t hurt, he was fine. He left him alone, and let Lloyd watch after him, but he cried on and off all day. “Why’s that boy been crying all day, if nothing happened?” What really got his attention wasn’t the crying. It wasn’t the silence or keeping to himself. It was him not waiting for Beth when she pulled up. Rip and John had been watching through the window. He saw the long pause, before the kid came inside with more tears on his cheeks. He tried to ask what was wrong, Carter refused to answer; just continued glancing towards the door. Normally, he ran to her, talking her to death before she could get out of the car. He was always so excited to see her when she’d been away all day. It was obvious, something happened. “Why’d he not wanna come out here to get you?” He asked a little harder, not louder, not harsh, but tired of her wanting to hide from him. Tired of her feeling the need to lie, to protect him from something that wouldn’t hurt him either way. Being constantly rejected and put down by everyone else, she still couldn’t help remaining slightly guarded. At least, with things as sensitive as the subject of her raising children. Fostering them. Wanting to nurture. She didn’t talk about it. “What did he do this time, Beth?” He asked, a little rougher than he intended, but after the incident in the store, watching the hurt and disappointment flash in her eyes, he always assumed the kid did something to her. He had a mouth. He could manipulate with the best. He had a sweet face, but so did he at that age, and everyone knew the evil shit he’d done.
All she could do for a moment was shake her head. Carter hadn’t done anything wrong. He was sweet and loving and wanted nothing more than to have her approval and acceptance. She hated herself for pushing him away in the worst way possible. When she didn’t mean it. When it tore her chest apart as she walked away. When she wanted to be gentle and loving. She wanted to be a mother, and coddle him, just a little. She wanted to be the person he needed and wanted to be around. She wanted him to come to her for advice and comfort. She wanted to be the person he trusted after so many others threw him away, abused him. Now, it was unlikely he would let her in again. “He called me mama this morning,” she tried to sound stronger than she felt, but her voice cracked and faded towards the ended. More tears fell, as her stomach clenched and heart ached. She remembered the burst of emotion in her chest when he said it. The tears that burned behind her eyes. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. How long she’d waited to hear those words. But she couldn’t. Her own demons and Rips words continued circling around in her head. She’d end up fucking the kid up eventually. She’d continue to hurt his feelings and push him away until he resented her. She’d put him in danger, just by being herself; living in her father’s property. “I lashed out,” she sobbed, still trying to hold most of the hurricane of emotions inside. She didn’t want to tell her husband how she really felt about what he said. It hurt. It hurt more coming from him. Knowing it was likely how he really felt, left a hole in her heart. He would never see Carter as his son; or hers. He was just a kid she found and brought home; like he was at one point. “It hurt too much,” she muttered, trying to cover her face, but Rip pushed her hand away. Pulling her into his arms instead. Despite how she felt, she went willingly. She buried her face in his neck and dug her nails into his jacket. He couldn’t help how he felt, and she wouldn’t hold it against him for it. He never held any of her bullshit against her. He had every right to not want Carter around. He had every right to keep him at a distance. Maybe he really didn’t want to be a father. Maybe neither one of them were built to be parents.
Rip didn’t know how to respond for a moment. If he would have known Carter had been thinking about calling her that, he would have tried to warn her. He would have sat down and talked to her about it. Figured out how she felt. What she wanted. If she wanted them both to sit down and talk to him, whichever decision she decided to make. He would have talked to him about it. Not to discourage him, but to prepare him if he got a hurtful reaction. He wished he would have known. He wanted to help them bond. He wanted them to heal each other from what they both lost at such a young age. Maybe it was the opportunity to heal himself as well. “Want me to talk to him?” He offered, having no idea how he would explain what happened. He didn’t know how much she wanted to tell a fourteen year old boy. He didn’t know how to explain how she felt about the situation, because she wouldn’t tell him. He could see she loved Carter. She wanted him to be hers. She’d claimed him long before the kid wanted to be part of her family. She wanted it to work so badly, she almost forced it. He wanted it to work just as much as she did, but didn’t know how to say it. He wanted the relationship John and Carter had. The boy seemed comfortable with the older man. Caught them riding early in the mornings, after his chores were done. Or the bond he was developing with Lloyd. The older man taking the time to teach and practice the small things, after they thought everyone else was asleep. It reminded him of the man staying up way past being exhausted, to teach Rip the same things. He knew he should be the one bonding with Carter. He knew he should be more empathetic and open. But he honestly didn’t know how.
She didn’t even understand her feelings, how was Rip supposed to explain them to a little boy? How would he not make him cry more, want to leave and risk foster care, like he had a few weeks before? She didn’t want to put more stress or anxiety on Carter. She didn’t want him to be bothered at all, at the moment. “God, no,” she said a little too harshly. She could see it in his face, when she pulled away enough to kiss his cheek. She wasn’t allowed to apologize anymore, but he knew she meant it. She wasn’t allowed to be sorry for the harsh and sarcastic things she said to him without thinking. When her emotions or heart took over her head. He claimed to appreciate it. Claiming it showed how comfortable and safe she felt being so open. Being able to express how she felt without fear of judgement or rejection. Even her father looked at her with frustration and annoyance from time to time. Rip only looked at her with patience. But she still hurt him from time to time, she could feel it. This time, her own anxiety pushed the words out. Words she meant, and didn’t. “I made him feel bad enough; he doesn’t need you telling him he’ll never be our son,” the only sentence she’d been able to say without her voice breaking, and she felt like she’d stabbed herself in the chest, when she felt her husband flinch. She felt the heavy sigh against her neck. She couldn’t even be kind and gentle with Rip, how the hell could she be nurturing with a growing child? “The world got fucking justice not letting me have children,” her voice broke, as she pushed him away, or tried. His hand on her back, refused to move, as the other caressed her cheek.
Rip felt like his world had been turned upside down. Like he’d been shot in the chest. He’d felt something was off from the moment she left in tears, and finding Carter in the stables looking exactly the same. He tried talking to him. He tried being patient and cautious. Treating him like a startled horse, but the kid wouldn’t break. Rip left him alone, like he always did with Beth. Forcing either of them to talk when they didn’t want to, or it was too painful, would only end badly. He was still talking to John and Lloyd, acting like nothing was wrong, that’s all that mattered. Now, he wished he’d pushed a little harder. Especially, seeing the devastation on his wife’s face. The reluctance and hatred. She really believed the words she said, whether she admitted it or not. She was terrified he would make it worse. He regretted acting the way he did when she first brought the boy home. It hurt telling the kid to leave, then forcing him to sleep in the same dark place he had twenty years ago. Calling him her pet. Making sarcastic remarks that he KNEW would make her pause. What was the next step, brand him? She’d been the only one to treat him like a person when he got there the first few weeks. Even with her mean comments, she never made him feel less than. She frequently slept in the tack room with him. It was his fault, his wife had so much self doubt. His fault she was pushing the kid away. “Don’t you ever fucking say that again,” he said calmer than he felt. He was soft, as he grabbed her chin, forcing her eyes up. Brushing the stray strands of blonde curl, back behind her ear, stroking her overheated cheek. Wishing he could erase the words he implanted inside her head, as she struggled to look at him. “You experienced a trauma, and got triggered by what he said,” he whispered, rubbing his hand slowly up and down her thigh. She hadn’t told anyone else about what Jamie had done. It wasn’t their business, unless she wanted it to be. He tried to make up for what she lost. He tried to reassure her, they didn’t need it. But maybe they did. Maybe she needed it more than they thought. He believed, she brought Carter home, for him; it wasn’t. He could see it in her eyes, as she anxiously looked away. She wanted him. And he made her feel like shit, without even asking her. “No one in this family believes you shouldn’t be a mother, but you,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, and thanking God she was letting him. She had every right to push him away. To be angry and resentful. If she was, it didn’t show, as she turned into him. Her fingers running lazily through his short beard, caressing his cheek. Trying to let the wall back down, as he kissed the corner of her mouth. Everyone wished she could have children. Even with Kaycee not knowing the full truth, he knew enough to want to change it. John still wanted to kill Jamie every night. He was just as devastated as he was the day Beth told him. Felt like he failed her. Blamed himself for not being more open. Rip understood those feelings more than he’d admit out loud. He hated himself for not asking more questions that day. That he didn’t stand between her and the world, that was determined to destroy her one piece at a time. She deserved to know what it felt like to have a baby grow in her belly. To feel it move and kick. To hear a heart beat for the first time. She would have been the most loving, empathetic mother. Giving more compassion and guidance than her own mother gave her. Protecting them in a way she wasn’t. Helping them develop and grow instead of letting the ranch raise them. She’d listen to them, just like she already did with Carter. She was already a mother, maybe not the way any of them wanted, but she was. “Baby, he’s whatever you want him to be,” he whispered against her cheek. Dropping his hand from her face, when she pulled away. He was afraid she’d push him away. That she blamed himself more than he blamed himself for putting doubt in her head. But she covered his hand on her thigh, and looked at him in a way he rarely saw. Mostly confusion, the need for guidance he couldn’t give. Not even her father could lead her on what to do. John didn’t treat him like a son, until the day he saved Beth’s life. He wasn’t a gentle father figure to him when he was Carters age. He branded him the first night on the ranch and threw him in the tack room. Only she could decide what he would be to her and how she would treat him. He would do whatever she wanted. He liked the kid, now that he understood boundaries. He cared about what happened to him, that’s why he was so hard on him. “I don’t want you worrying about what I think,” he reassured, watching the fight slowly leave her body. He didn’t hope either way. He wanted her happy. If Carter made her happy, he would treat him accordingly.
For once, Beth couldn’t read her husband’s face. Twenty something years, devastating conversations, rejection, getting shot; they had been through it all. Every time, she could read how he felt, what he thought. Most of the time, she knew what he was thinking before he could comprehend it. Now, he was looking like he was waiting for her. Waiting to see what she wanted, her reaction. She caught a small spark, as he brushed the hair from her face. “You said…”
“Fuck what I said,” he replied without hesitation. It was amazing that she never listened to anyone else. She never did or believed anything without facts and numbers. But this time, she took in everything he said. She believed it without a second thought. “I was wrong for saying that to you,” he said a little stronger, wiping the tears that slowed, but still continued to fall. It felt wrong watching a spark disappear from her eyes, when she said he’d resent her eventually. He held her. He felt her nails dig into his back. She tried to hide the sniffles, but he heard them; he just didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He thought he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He thought there was no way she would ever see a random stray kid, as her own. But she did. he felt like an ass for not waiting, and letting her lead. Not thinking before he spoke. “It hurt saying it, I know it hurt hearing it. I’m so sorry, I made you feel that way,” he said with more control than he felt. He felt like his chest was on fire and his belly ached. His own words haunting him, along with the hurt look on her face. He didn’t know if he could fix or erase it. “What do you want him to be, baby?” He asked gently, forcing his body to relax, as she slipped back into his space. Burying her face in his neck. Her hands sliding under his jacket and clutching his sides. She gave her a minute to breathe him in. To finally think before she responded. To process her own feelings, without worrying about his. He wanted her to be honest.
She wanted to be a mother. She wanted her and Rip to be able to have a child. She wanted to feel normal. She wanted Carter to feel that they were his parents. “I want him to feel it’s okay…” she tried, but couldn’t find the words to finish. She wanted him to feel he could claim her as his mother. She wanted him to feel he belonged somewhere, to someone. That someone loved him, would fight for him. Someone cared enough not to leave him alone, in the abusive foster system. But she didn’t know how to say it to her husband. She knew he could see it. The way the corner of his mouth twitched, and a familiar light sparked in his eyes. “I want him comfortable enough…” but her voice failed again, this time, Rip didn’t ask her to try to answer. He kissed her forehead, her cheek. Told her everything would be okay. That they could fix it. That he would do whatever she wanted him to do. Beth was so focused on the soothing words in her ear, she didn’t even have time to finish her thought, before Rip was jerking her keys from the ignition.
“What are you doing?” She asked, a little startled, more confused. But the sweet smile on his face, kept her from snatching them back. She was curious. She wanted to know what brilliant idea just appeared in his head.
Rip wasn’t a genius by any stretch of the imagination; but he was intelligent enough to see she didn’t need to talk to him. He actually felt like he had unintentionally come between her and Carter. She needed to talk to him. She needed to be as honest and open as she could, and let him decide what he wanted to do. She needed to explain what happened in the barn. It didn’t matter if she told the cowboy a thousand times, she needed to fix what happened with the person she hurt. Something she usually only did with Rip. “You’re a runner, baby,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice, before kissing her gently. She held on to him longer than he thought she would, but never reached for her keys. The curiosity overshadowing her need to run. Did he honestly think she would leave the second his back was turned; yes and no. It depended on her mood most days. If she was upset and open, she’d stay. If she was angry, tense and closed off, she’d be in Utah before he had a chance to catch up. “Now, stay here,” he said, before taking off towards the house and up the steps. She could still run away. He forgot she was in a lot better shape than he was, but as he looked back over his shoulder, she was still slumped over, taking deep breaths.
Beth knew what he was doing, as he ran back up the front steps, leaving the front door open behind him. The moment he was out of her sight, of course, she began to panic. She couldn’t take a deep breath. Her chest ached. Her fingers began to tingle. She tried to shake the feeling of anxiety and failure washing over her. She tried to put herself back together before the fourteen year old she was supposed to be strong for, saw her falling apart, but she couldn’t. She didn’t stay in the car. She couldn’t sit still. She didn’t want to be so close to the house. She didn’t want her father or Rip or even Kaycee bothering them. She needed the quiet. She slowly wandered down to the arena and nearly collapsed on the grass. Kicking her boots away in frustration. She didn’t know what she was gonna say to him. She didn’t know how she was gonna apologize or tell him he could call her whatever he wanted.
Beth didn’t hear their foot steps on the gravel. If they spoke, she didn’t hear them. But she wasn’t listening. She was in her own head, trying to sort out the mess she caused. Trying to figure out her own feelings, before she had to explain them to a child. She jumped when she felt Rips knee against her back. His fingers dancing at the back of her neck. She felt Carters presence behind her. She heard the sniffles. She saw his shadow, as he wiped his cheek. She almost didn’t look up. She was so terrified, and could figure out why. She couldn’t rationalize why she was so afraid to be vulnerable with a boy she wanted to be her son. She felt her own chin tremble with fear, but held back the tears, and took a deep breath. “Sit with me?” She glanced at the boys terrified face, and felt her chest explode with guilt. She had to bite her lip hard to force back the tears building behind her eyes. But watched him nod before she looked back out over the field. Feeling him sit far enough away, she couldn’t accidentally touch him. It stung deep in her chest. He was more comfortable with her, at the hospital, when she was a stranger, than he was now. “We’re fine,” she said without looking back at her husband. His hand on her shoulder was enough. She needed to do it on her own. It was her decisions and mistakes that led her to that moment, it was her responsibility to fix and heal from them now. ‘I’m sorry for what I said,’ his little voice broke the silence, as she heard her husbands boots slowly walking across the gravel, towards the house where she was sure her father was curiously waiting. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it,’ she heard him whisper, as she heard Rips boots hit the wood of the front porch.
Beth didn’t say a word until she heard the front door of the house slam shut. She didn’t want to be watched and listened to, and knew Carter didn’t either. She knew Rip and her father were concerned, but they needed the privacy. They couldn’t help them. They didn’t know how she felt. They couldn’t possible understand what she was going through, had put herself through over the years. What it felt like not to be able to have the one thing she wanted most. “Can I tell you a secret?” She asked, her tone much softer than it had been that morning. She hadn’t meant to snap at him. She hadn’t meant to be cruel. Her mind was so focused on her anger for Jamie. Her plan to kill him. How she would probably spend the rest of her life in prison. There was no way she could make it look like an accident, if everyone saw her go in his office and heard the gun shot. Luckily, threats were enough. It was almost hysterical, her brother was more afraid of Rip, than going to prison. That he would rather kill his biological father himself, than deal with her husband. She had forgotten about the incident with Carter until she saw him on the porch. Now, she wished she could have taken the time with him that morning, instead of worrying about Jamie. But if her brother would try to kill her, she still believed he knew all along, what would keep him from trying to kill the boy she thought of as a son? She couldn’t let that happen. ‘Yeah,’ he replied through a few sniffles.
It was difficult for Beth to find the right words. She wanted to be delicate, sensitive. She didn’t like talking about not being able to have children and why. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable, and having her heart break all over again. But Carter deserved an apology and explanation. “I lost a baby at about the same age you are now,” she said as calm as she could manage. She felt the tears burning her eyes, as she glanced at his understanding face. She knew he didn’t really understand, no one could, unless it happened to them. She had her baby ripped from her, before she was ever able to process what that positive test meant. Before she had time to think about her decision, let the fear and panic fade. Allow Rip and her father to help her. “I couldn’t have another one,” she said, as a few tears fell. She thought about brushing them away, hiding her pain, but what was she teaching him? That his feelings were to be kept to himself? That there was something wrong with being vulnerable? If she couldn’t set the example, how could she expect him to trust her? She took a few deep breaths, before turning and looking at him. Carter had so much empathy in his sweet face, she couldn’t help small smile she offered. He really did care. He was listening. He was trying to understand and learn. He was so much like Rip it was both scary and fascinating. He wanted to be accepted and loved so badly. He wanted a home, parents that loved him unconditionally. That’s what she wanted for him. “Rip and I couldn’t have another one,” she whispered, biting her lip, as she felt his fingers touch hers on the grass. The concern in his bright blue eyes, reminding her of every time her husband had looked at her twenty something years ago. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted to make it better. That’s why he brought her flowers a few days after making a scene in the department store. He didn’t know how to make it okay and better, but would try anything. ‘That’s why you don’t want me?’ He whispered, looking away as his chin began to tremble again.
What was left of Beth’s control broke, as a soft sob escaped her chest. She had to turn away for a moment, had the pain in her chest, felt like she was being ripped apart all over again. It felt like she was being told for the first time, she would never have another baby. It hurt deep in her soul, tearing apart her heart. Scarring her memory. The look in his eyes, he really believed she didn’t want him. It hurt like a knife in her gut, it took her breath. “No, baby,” her voice cracked, and she had to wipe her face, before turning back to him. But she didn’t shy away. She didn’t push down the pain pumping through her veins with every hard beat of her heart. She forced herself to feel it, to show it. “That’s WHY I want you,” she admitted out loud for the first time, to anyone. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders, but the tears on his sweet face, still hurt. She was afraid she was confusing him more. That she was doing exactly what everyone else in his life did. Manipulating him to forget the hurtful things, to get what they wanted from him. She had barely spoken to him after the incident in the store. Even after he brought her flowers, she didn’t go out of her way to spend time with him. He had every reason to be guarded and lash out. “That’s why I know HE wants you,” she said, as she saw the front door open again, but didn’t pay her father or Rip any mind. They were the only ones in the house that would come checking on them. She knew her husband wanted Carter to be theirs. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t care so much. He wouldn’t have been so hard on her about letting him take the lead for a while. He wanted the boy to succeed and learn and feel safe while doing it. He hadn’t branded him, like her father did. He didn’t degrade of physically hurt him. If he had, Beth would have killed him. She wanted to hurt her father every time she saw the burn on her husband’s chest, still very much present, even twenty years later. It was degrading. It made her stomach churn, thinking about a fourteen year old, traumatized kid, being forced to take a brand; for what? For the ranch? For stolen land? For a promise no one but her father cared to remember? She wouldn’t let her son be marked like cattle, branded like he was owned. Her father and Rip could twist the words all they wanted, it was what it was; a cattle brand. Over her dead body, would she let anyone touch him again. “What happened in the barn wasn’t your fault, do you understand me?” She asked softly, lifting his chin to force his eyes to focus on hers. It was the first time she touched him, showed any affection since the tantrum in the store. She felt him flinch, put he didn’t pull away. It still hurt. He never pulled away at the hospital, after his father died, and he had no idea who she was. He didn’t flinch when she made hateful, confusing comments when they first met. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she reassured, forcing herself not to look away. She took a few deep breaths, tried to encourage him to do the same, but he was too upset. He was too young and had never been taught how to regulate and control his emotions. She tried to filter through the twister of thoughts inside her head. What was appropriate to share, what she should keep to herself, what he deserved to know. “I’m afraid you’ll be taken from me,” she tried to say, as her voice cracked. Everyone hated the Dutton name, what her father stood for, for the land that was never theirs. She had only been only two years. She was nearly raped and killed the first, and almost blown to pieces the second. Her oldest brother was shot and killed her first few weeks after being home. Her baby brother had been attacked multiple times, along with his family, his son was kidnapped. Rip and her father had been shot and beaten more times than she cared to remember. Could she protect him, when she couldn’t even protect herself? “I don’t want to mess you up. I don’t want to make you resent me.” Remembering all the hurtful things her mother said and did. Whether she was doing them for her own good, or not, they were still damaging. Why treat Kaycee like he was special, when the rest of them got a very different side to their mother. Her father wasn’t innocent. He never said anything about the things his wife did to her, said to her, forced her to do. Maybe if he had, she wouldn’t have been on the fucking horse that day. He never called Salt Lake to check on her, it was always for damage control. Fighting for something she didn’t want or believe it. Fixing something he and Jamie managed to fuck up. She was used, just like Rip, Lee, Jamie, even Kaycee, all collateral damage for their father’s dreams. She wouldn’t let Carter be used and thrown away. “I’m afraid I don’t deserve you,” she tried, as the first small sob broke through her chest. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve anything. She wanted to give him a good life. Provide for him. Guide him. He deserved a good parent. He deserved a sober mother. One that would put him first; she could do that. She was so used to putting everyone before herself for years, it was natural. “You ARE my boy,” her voice broke, as her tears fell just as fast as Carters. She was claiming him. She was offering the home and unconditional love he always wanted and needed. He would be moving back into the house, until she decided if they would continue living on her father’s ranch or not. He wouldn’t be treated as a farm hand. He wouldn’t be screamed at and degraded.
It was Carters turn to break, as he brushed the tears away. Pull away to cry into his arm, not sure what else to do. Not used to getting comfort. Not understanding that he could turn to her and feel safe. Beth had to calm her sobs, and the tornado of emotion in her chest, to focus on her son. His tears and sobs broke something in her heart, she hadn’t realized was still intact. All she could think about, was how many times had he been that upset, and forced to comfort himself? How many times had he cried himself to sleep from either pain or fear? How many times had he cried for his mom, with no answer? “Come here, baby,” she whispered, touching his jacket covered arm carefully with the back of her hand. Waiting for him to want the contact. To see that she could be his safe place. Willing to accept the comfort she was offering. It only took a few seconds, for him to turn into her, and cry into her neck. Beth was surprised for half a second, before her arms tightened around him. Shushing him. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered into his dark curls, as she felt the tears run down her shoulder and chest. Her own, coming faster, but she was silent with her emotions. “It’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, when she felt his fingers clutch her jacket. She didn’t know how she would make it better, make him feel whole again, but she would do whatever she could to try. At least he wasn’t pushing her away. ‘No one’s ever wanted me,’ she heard whimpered, before his soft cries began again.
Beth wanted to set the world on fire and drown in an ocean of tears for the young boy. Like her husband, he never knew what a kind touch felt like, looked like, until he met her. She could feel the tension in his back and shoulders, assuming he would be thrown away again at any moment. She knew the anxiety was sitting on his chest like a set of bricks. She had been lucky, both her parents did want her. Her mother and father loved her. She could see it in her dad’s face every time his eyes lit up when she walked in the room. She didn’t know what it felt like to be abandoned and abused by her parents. They neglected her, but what were they supposed to do, not run their ranch? They didn’t do drugs, they didn’t drink, they made sure she had everything she could need or want. Her husband and son were abused in the worst ways possible, by people they should have been able to trust. It was possible she would hunt down the ones that hurt Carter, one day, but not today. “Oh baby boy, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you,” she confessed, running a hand lightly up his back, as he back to cough through his now calming cries. Every time her and Rip started getting serious in the past, when her heart cracked open just a little, that’s always where her mind wandered. She wanted a child with her husband, since the day her womb was ripped from her body, along with her baby. “I’ve prayed for you.” She begged and cursed God for what he allowed to happen. Screamed why she couldn’t have what she wanted with the man that deserved it the most. She assumed she was damaged goods. That Rip wouldn’t want her once he knew, but he did. and he reminded her every day, they didn’t need it. “I’ve cried for you,” she whispered, feeling his harsh breaths and cries start to settle. Remembering all the nights, shed cry alone in her Salt Lake City apartment. All the times she ran away from her husband because she couldn’t give him what SHE wanted. All the times she let him in just enough to get attached, break her soul a little more, than remember what she’d done, what they lost, and run away again. All the time he had to comfort her now. She cried more in Rios arms, in front of him, than she ever did alone. She finally felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” she reassured, and besides Rip, a child was the only thing her mind could focus on at times. Not being able to shake the need to mother. ‘Can I call you mama now?’ She heard asked so low, she would have missed it if she exhaled too hard.
Hearing that word, was one of the only things she ever wanted. It caused her heart to warm in a way it never had before. She felt a maternal pull in her belly that she never experienced. She only wanted two things before she died. She wanted to be Rips wife, and she wanted his child. Even if she couldn’t biologically have a baby of their own. She could have Carter. She could claim the boy that looked and acted like her husband. “You can call me whatever you want,” she whispered, as a few stray tears slid down her face. Beth couldn’t say she didn’t care what he called her. She wanted him to call her mom. She wanted him to feel that connection with her. She would never force it, or even encourage, it was his choice. One that her husband never got. ‘Thank you, mama,’ she heard him mutter, before barely feeling the kiss on her cheek. He did pull away and she let him. Ignoring the tears that continued falling slowly down his face, as he looked off over the pasture, and wiped his face. They weren’t terrified tears, his face was calm, his eyes were a little brighter than when she arrived home. She could see the tension and stress, the worry leave his small body. The realization that he would never be abandoned again, settling under his skin. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you,” she reassured, hoping one day, he would understand that he was loved unconditionally. He never had to do anything, act a certain way, or meet unrealistic expectations in order to keep her love. She would never manipulate him. She would never use it against him. It didn’t matter what he did or said, she loved him. She’d defend him with her life. She’d kill for him. Now, she finally understood why her father always made excuses for her and Jamie’s behavior. It didn’t matter what they did or said or how they acted; he loved them. He would die for them. “I’ll do that till my last breath, whether you like it or not,” she said with a small smile, running her hand down his back, and feeling her heart explode when he didn’t flinch, or try to move away. He glanced at her with a similar barely there smile, before looking away again. He might look and act like her husband, but there were little things he did that were purely Beth. The bashfulness with affection and comfort. The inability to hold eye contact when he was feeling vulnerable and exposed. His need for quiet comfort and acceptance. “You’re stuck with me now,” he said with a slight laugh, wiping her own face. But the deep sigh and nod she received in response, was enough to make her smile for the first time that day. He was home. He had stability. He had consistency. Freedom to feel and be whatever he wanted.
Beth almost startled as she heard the front door of the main house close. She saw Rip standing on the porch, just watching. A soft smile playing at the corner of his mouth. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the glasses, but knew that familiar spark had been ignited. She knew he was happy, if she was happy. “You wanna go eat supper?” She asked, catching Carter glancing over his shoulder, before turning back to the pasture. She wasn’t hungry, but knew he had been awake since before four that morning and probably hadn’t eaten much for lunch. Rip never did and Lloyd had a habit of ‘forgetting’. By habit, she knew her body was following the example around him. ‘Not hungry,’ he muttered, only looking at her for a moment, but it was enough for her to see what he didn’t want to say out loud. He was hungry. He was probably starving. He was also nervous and anxious. It had been an emotional day for them both. They didn’t need the constant questions from her father or Rip, or whoever else managed to stop by as a ‘surprise’. As well meaning as she knew they were, it was the stillness, the quiet that they needed. “God, you are my son,” she said with both fascination and a little concern. Even Rip would force himself to eat, even upset. Even with a thousand things on his mind, he still ate every night and most mornings. He was better at compartmentalizing than she was. Her brain only focused on the bad. What could happen. What would happen. Flashes from the past reminding her it was always possible to repeat the chaos. She was afraid, that was her son. And she wasn’t the one that could teach him how to deal with things like her father and Kaycee. She couldn’t teach him to be calm and thoughtful before acting. She could reach him it was okay to make mistakes. That his feelings were valid. That he could always ask as many questions as he wanted. “Take a few minutes, then we’ll go inside, okay?” She asked lightly, not forcing, she never would. If he didn’t want to come inside or eat at all, she’d try again later. She’d go get Lloyd and have him try, since they seemed to have built a strong bond.
She saw him still shake his head. Refusing to look back, as she saw Rip sit on the step, pretending to not be keeping an eye on them. He really was just like her. He didn’t want everyone else to see him upset, vulnerable. Even if it was only Rip and her father. It wasn’t who the people were. They were men. Every time he was vulnerable around men in foster care, he was abused in the worst ways possible. She didn’t even know what his biological parents had done to him. When she called the sheriff to get his file, they claimed they couldn’t find it. When she called social services to get the official paper work, to avoid them taking him later; they claimed to not have a file with his name or the fathers. And they didn’t seem to care that she had a child in her house that no one knew anything about, or cared to check on. There was no idea what Carter really went through in their care. She was furious when she left the office. It wasn’t about knowing who had him before, although she would love those names. She needed his medical information. What was he allergic to? Did he have asthma? a heart murmur that needed monitoring? Diabetes? Did anyone even take him to a doctor? Did he see a dentist? She knew nothing, and not even her father could force any information out of an uncaring system. But they would continue to fight for him. “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you,” she said a little softer, brushing his cheek with the back of her hand. Not maintaining the contact for long. She didn’t want to push him or make him uncomfortable. She just wanted him to know, he wasn’t alone, she wasn’t going anywhere, and he could feel safe with her. ‘I’ll just go hang out in the barn,’ he muttered, glancing towards the bunkhouse, where they both knew Lloyd and Teeter would whisk him inside before he could even ask. They were so patient and sweet with him, it was like watching the older man and her father mentor Rip all over again. But she wanted him that comfortable with her family. “How about I go get our stuff and we eat right here?” She tried, willing to do anything to get him to sit with her and eat. Her father forced her in the house she hated, at the table she despised; she wouldn’t do that to her son. If he needed to sit in the quiet for a while, she’d sit with him. “Views pretty good, and the companies decent.”
Beth was surprised when he didn’t immediately respond with another shake of his head or a no. He thought about it. She could see the wheels turning. Probably trying to figure out what she wanted. What was the downside to staying with her. What could she want from him. When he couldn’t think of anything, he made eye contact long enough for her to see his wall fall. His defenses were down. ‘You sure?’ He likely asked for the first time in his life, knowing the person he was asking wouldn’t hurt a hair on his head. Wouldn’t lash out and physically hurt him. Beth couldn’t help but smile, he was wanting her to stay. He was asking her to stay with him, trusting her. “Does it make you feel better?” She asked softly, only wanting him to tell the truth. She wouldn’t embarrass him if he wanted her comfort and company. She wouldn’t hold it against him if he really didn’t. She watched him nod and try to take it back, but she wouldn’t let him. “Then I’m sure,” she said with a small smile, before fluffing his hair. He smiled in a way that reminded her of Rip, before he lightly swatted her hand away. “I’ll be right back,” she reassured, making a silent promise, before standing and waiting for him to nod in acknowledgment, before she turned her back and started towards the house.
*
Rip couldn’t have been prouder of his wife, than in that moment. Watching her mother a boy she didn’t know if she still wanted a few weeks ago, would be one of his favorite memories until the day he died. Even if he hated to see her so upset, he loved that she finally let herself be open. She let herself be vulnerable and was able to comfort him at the same time. She was able to prioritize Carters emotions and needs above her own. She didn’t hide, because she didn’t want him to feel the need to do the same. “Hey John, might wanna grab that camera you keep hidden,” he tried to be quiet, knowing Beth could still hear like a bat, even after the explosion.
John grabbed the camera from the cabinet and ran back to the porch. He at least knew it couldn’t be a bad thing, the tone in Rips voice was too cheerful. “Isn’t that something?” He muttered in amazement. His stubborn, I don’t give a shit attitude, running wild all over the ranch, risk taker, daughter, was still and quiet. He could tell she’d been crying, even from where he stood. It was a rarity for her to be the calm in anyone’s storm. But as he watched her comfort the young boy, he remembered that was one of the reasons he envied her so much. She could defend and comfort. She could be the strong pillar and soft as flour. He couldn’t. It took him much longer to realize what he wanted and needed, was missing in his life. He was more hesitant to take risks. Beth leaped into the unknown, like it was her comfort blanket. “She was always quicker to let herself be open than I was,” he said a little quieter. Watching the corner of Rips mouth twitch, but the man never looked away from his daughter and Carter on the grass. He always knew Beth would marry him eventually. He always knew the man would be his son in law at some point. John felt lucky, his daughter had someone that would protect her with his last breath. That would fight for her, long after he was gone. That knew her, almost as long as him. “Good job, son,” he said with a little hesitation. Only because their relationship was built on silent trust. John wanted to stay and enjoy the moment a little longer, but noticed Beth climbing to her feet and coming towards the house. The look on her face, was a mixture of frustration and confusion. “Not dealing with that tornado,” he said before patting Rips shoulder and darting back in the house.
*
Beth saw her dad head back into the house, when he saw her coming up the gravel. An odd smile in his face, the same one that was on her husband’s. For some reason, her body and mind were ready for an argument. She was ready for him to say something sarcastic or hateful. He wasn’t trying to be hurtful with his words, he was trying to protect her, in the only way he knew how. He didn’t realize she didn’t need protecting. She needed him to be as open as she was willing to be. She needed him to accept what she wanted. And didn’t really know what she would do if he couldn’t or wouldn’t. “You say a fucking word about me coddling him or call him a pet, you’re sleeping in the tack room,” she hissed, marching up the steps to where he stood, leaning against a wooden post. His body relaxed. His face hadn’t changed. There was an air of amusement surrounding him. He still had the same sweet smile, that made her feel sixteen all over again. He was silent for a moment, as he slipped off the sunglasses, so she could really see him. If he was gonna be defensive, he would have kept them on. His eyes were calm, loving, like they always were when she became upset. He didn’t react to her words, because she knew they were empty threats. She immediately wanted to take back her words, apologize, but he didn’t like when she did it. “I didn’t mean that,” she muttered, covering her face for a moment. Feeling the tears burning all over again. Feeling herself being pulled in two different directions.
Rip had been amusement by his wife’s words, until he saw the facade crack. She was so afraid he would reject Carter, she was guarding herself in preparation. She wanted a family. She wanted him to at least try to accept him. He didn’t have to try, he already had. He was just waiting for her to figure out what she really wanted. He wouldn’t assume, especially after the incident in the store. Now, watching her heart breaking, took another small piece of his and shattered it. He hadn’t meant to make her feel like she had to choose. It was never a choice. Once she brought Carter home, he was theirs. He always believed that. “Baby…” he whispered, waiting for her to drop her hand and look up. He never liked when she felt the need to hide. “Come here,” he muttered, when her beautiful green eyes finally connected with his. She was so soft when she fell into his arms. She didn’t cry. She buried her face in his neck to breathe him in for a few long minutes. His fingers wandered under her jacket and blouse, feeling the scars on her lower back. He felt the immediate flinch. She was still self conscious about how they looked when she saw them in the mirror. He caught her staring at them when she got out of the shower that morning. A look on her face, he had a hard time reading. She refused to show any of her back in public. Even though he knew she was naturally a furnace, her leather jacket had become an every day item. He could feel the sweat on her skin. His other hand moved the hair from her neck and blew on her over heated skin. “Stop torturing yourself,” he whispered low in her ear, kissing her cheek and neck. The spot below her ear, that made her melt. He tugged the jacket collar, pushing the leather from one shoulder, feeling her tense again. “If we can’t hide from you, why do you want to hide from us?” He asked, kissing the small patch of exposed skin, and back up her neck. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. You are so beautiful, baby,” he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. Feeling her heart slowly stop pounding hard in her neck. Her body relaxing against him, as she slowly allowed him to push the jacket from her shoulders. Letting it hit the porch at her feet. He didn’t understand why she cared so much about covering her back. The thin blue undershirt she was wearing didn’t show the majority of the damage. Somehow, the rest of her body had been spared. A detective said she was mostly covered by her desk during the initial blast. A piece of shrapnel caught her in the face and side, but the rest of her body was just as it always had been. Only a few patches on her shoulder were visible. “What do you want Carter to be?” He finally asked, once he felt the sweat cooling on her skin.
Beth was thankful for the encouragement to bare her skin without judgement. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her scars. She didn’t love them. She wished her body looked like it had six months ago, but she didn’t think about it every day. She didn’t focus on them every time she saw them. Usually they didn’t bother her. It still didn’t mean she wanted anyone but Rip to see them. After her father’s reaction the first time she tried to show him in anger and frustration, she avoided exposing her scars if she could help it. But the cool breeze did feel good on her skin. She’d been dying to take off the jacket all day. The only time she had, was on the way home from threatening Jamie. She put it right back on when she pulled back on to the ranch property. “Our son…that’s what I want,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. Hoping he didn’t feel she was forcing him to do anything. She didn’t expect him to accept Carter right away. She did expect him to respect her decision and be understanding about it.
Rip waited as she nuzzled his cheek. Ran her fingers through his beard. Finding the comfort and safety she needed. His familiarity, his smell, touch, grounded her in a way pills and whiskey never could. It was the same for him. All he needed, no matter how awful he felt, was her presence. She made everything wrong, feel right again. He would give her anything she wanted, needed to feel as whole as he felt holding her. He accepted every decision she made, as easily as she accepted his past. “He does kinda look like me,” he said with a slight laugh, but he could see it in her face. That’s all she saw when she looked at him. Rip was a little amazed at how much the kid resembled him now, not so much when he was Carters age. But his sweetness, his big heart, his need to learn, was all her. Somehow, THEIR kid had fallen into their laps by accident.
“And acts like you,” she admitted, glancing at the spot where she left him. He was watching Lloyd run the energy out of one of the last feisty horses that refused to settle into the barn for the night. He hadn’t moved. He just watched in fascination from where he sat. All his attention focused on every move and sound the older man made. Watching with an intensity she’d only seen once, on her husband’s face. A wild, frustrated, angry boy, that was so eager to learn and be accepted.
Maybe his anger at the world was like his, but his openness was all her. His willingness to help anyone. His warm smile first thing in the morning, was her. “He not coming inside?” He finally asked, when he noticed the kid hadn’t moved. Then he saw Lloyd still in the arena, running the nervous energy out of one of the young wild horses Kaycee brought from the reservation. It was one of the first times, he saw Carter really interested and still. Just as intrigued by the older man as he was at the same age.
She wanted him to come inside. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough to eat with everyone. Maybe after she helped him set up his new room, he’ll feel better. He would be getting Jamie’s room, right across from hers. She didn’t want him far away. She never understood how her parents slept downstairs when all their children, even when toddlers, slept upstairs. They still snuck out. They still snuck people in. She still ended up pregnant at fourteen. She never understood the reasoning and wouldn’t allow her son to be that far away from her at night. Not when all she could hear sometimes, was Monica’s cries for Tate. “Not right now,” she whispered into his neck, feeling her husband’s hand slip under the thin shirt again, his fingers running along the top of her skirt. Making random patterns up and down her lower spine. She had to fight not to squirm, but his lips on her cheek and temple, stopped her brain from focusing too long on the scars. One day, she wouldn’t be bothered. The longer she allowed Rip to show it didn’t matter, the permanent marks didn’t change anything, the more she believed it. “He needs some quiet,” she whispered, as she allowed her body to fully relax into him for a moment. She needed his touch, his support, more than she needed air.
Rip believed Carter probably did appreciate the quiet after crying all day. He also believed, that he needed a maternal presence. He didn’t need any of the men telling him about a fucked up situation they were once in. Or Teeter making comments the boy was too young to understand, and none of the barrel racers payed him any mind. He needed his mom to tell him everything would be okay, like they both wished they had. “If he’s like me, he just needs you,” he said a little quieter, feeling a spark of emotion in her chest, that he never felt before. Knowing she couldn’t have children, solidified the idea that they never would. He didn’t want them with anyone else. He didn’t want her feeling guilty for something she couldn’t control. But having her look at him with her bright green eyes, a bashful smile on her face, it was a nice thought, thinking Carter was a little like him. “Go on, I’ll keep your dad company,” he muttered against her temple, before tilting her chin and kissing her gently.
Beth’s lips parted easily for him. Tasting his tongue for the first time, since she woke him ten minutes before his alarm went off. She couldn’t help taking a moment just to enjoy him. The peacefulness his presence surrounded her with. Soaking in how whole she suddenly felt. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. Still not pulling away. Content to enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapped around her for a few more minutes. No one had even said dinner was ready. Her father and Gator would usually start hollering for them or ringing the bell at the end of the porch. He hadn’t done that since the explosion. The damage to her right ear, still caused it to ring and ache with certain sounds. Some reminded of the bombing itself, terrifying her. He now yelled for her when she wasn’t in the house.
Rip kissed her again, allowing her to lead. She was just as clingy as she was when she woke up. Needing the physical contact. The soft kisses. The words of encouragement. He knew it had been a bad day, and she still hadn’t told him where she’d been. He had a feeling that had a lot to do with her roller coaster of emotions when she returned home. Likely, it had to do with Jamie and the explosion, the shootings. But he would wait until tomorrow to ask. He didn’t want to dig into anymore painful emotions today. He wanted her to enjoy her new bond with Carter. “Don’t ever thank me for this,” he replied, nuzzling her nose until a bashful smile appeared. He didn’t want to be thanked for giving her what she wanted and needed. For taking care of her like he promised her father he would. “I just want you happy, baby, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he said, brushing his fingers down her cheek. Watching a sweet smile cross her lips, as her eyes grew brighter. Leaning into his soft touch. He couldn’t be happier than he was in that moment. She was so calm, so still for the first time since the early morning hours. She looked at peace.
For the first time in her life, Beth felt content. She felt calm and settled. She had her husband, her son. Her father was gonna be fine from the shooting. Her little brother was back on the property. She didn’t want anything else. “I’m happy,” she reassured, kissing him with everything she had. She couldn’t apologize, she couldn’t thank him, but she could love him more, for putting her, her feelings, Carters wellbeing, before himself.