Happy Cow Ranch

In Color

Beth can't help but look at the young girl in front of her, fidgeting nervously, yet extremely sharp, beautiful. Her tawny skin shines like a smooth stone under the light from the sun, her hazel eyes sparkling green and gold. She's beautiful and strong, but the strength isn't the same as when she was young.

Back then it was a fearless sort of strength. The kind that builds bones stronger after they're broken. Now, it's strength in the face of fear. That small southern town changed her, ruined Beth's hard work. She'd have to start again.

"Mr. Dutton said you know about what happened. Do you-" Maisie starts, but Beth's imposing power is more potent than Maisie's determination.

"Don't talk like that," Beth's eyes are low, her lips parted. Maisie frowns. "You talk like you're in Steel Magnolias. You're not. You're from Montana, and you'll talk like you are, or you'll die."

She can't show how much she cares for the girl. Not in a way that would let Beth be vulnerable at least. So she'd make her hard as rock again, make sure nothing can break her ever again.

"I don't- I don't know how to 'talk like a Montanan'," She crosses her arms, her eyes sharp as a whip. Beth always admired that about her, how even though her eyes were kind, they could turn in an instant.

"Then you better fuckin' learn, kid," She takes a sip of her drink, and recrosses her legs. Maisie scowls, as though she's trying to remember if Beth was like this when she was younger.

"Okay. Just tell me what happened, please," Maisie's voice cracks, sounding pained. Beth shifts and gives in.

"They thought they were kidnapping me. I wasn't on the ranch, and you were the only girl who was. They didn't know who you were and they didn't care, because they were from out of town. That's the only person stupid enough to say yes to being asked to take a Dutton," Beth gives a vague response, trying to sound uninterested. If she lets that guard down for even a minute she—and her father—could lose everything. Fear ruined her life. She won't let it ruin Maisie's.

"Oh... What happened next? Why do my parents hate Montana? Why is everyone acting like I'm a ghost?" She demands, and Beth is reminded of that pouty little face negotiating for a popsicle.

"They..." She started but shook her head hard, eyes closing as she tries to block the memory, the guilt... "Ask someone else. And lose the drawl... get a twang."

Beth gets up before Maisie could ask another question and leaves the house, plopping down in a chair on the opposite side of the porch where the girl wouldn't be able to see her. She buries her face in her hands, horrible, bloody images flashing in front of her eyes. The porch creaks and she can feel a huge shadow envelop her.

"If you're gonna jerk off, do it somewhere else," She mutters, not even looking up. She's a little grateful that it's Rip standing in front of her, though the comment would have stuck Jamie more.

"It's not your fault, y'know," Rip angles his head down to see her more clearly.

"Really? It's not? Because if I remember clearly, those men said they wanted Beth Dutton, and I had snuck off with some ranch hand and acted like a damn slu-" Beth starts but Rip is already ready to cut her off, having heard this many times before.

"Stop it, Beth. Just stop. I was the one who asked you to go, and they would've taken her either way. It's not like you just left her completely alone, you left her with Jamie," Rip reasons, but his last word is cut off by a snort.

"Jamie... I should've known better. The fate of a child should never be in his incapable hands," She snarls, hatred bubbling inside of her.

"Live and learn, Beth. She's still alive, she's okay," Rip reassures her, helping her stand up.

"She's not okay. She's not," Beth argues, her tone definite.

"She is okay. She's... different, but she's okay," Rip hesitates, trying carefully to select a word while remembering what the girl was like when she was just up to his knee.

"She's not okay! She can't even fucking remember it!"

"It's for the best, Beth. What, do you want her to remember? You want her to remember how they-"

"Of course, I don't. I didn't want it to happen to her in the first place! It should've been me! It... it should've..." She stops beating Rip's chest, letting him wrap his arms around her. She doesn't cry, just gently closes her eyes, releasing herself. Just as quickly she stands up, looks Rip over, and pats his face "Better not hug me like that when Daddy's around."

She walks away, hips swaying with practiced ease, much smoother than she did at thirteen, when they first met. Rip chuckles as he watches her go, hands on his hips.

"He knows we're married, Beth. He was there," He calls after her, but she doesn't look back.

When he turns he can see Maisie sitting inside, looking around like a lost puppy. He feels pity and protectiveness, like an older brother of sorts, and can't stop a grin of pride when he thinks about the excitement in that little face when she recognized him, and the way she ran to him like she did as a child. A rack of guilt hits him like a shotgun blast, thinking of what they did to her, and how he couldn't stop it. How he caused it.

She looks up when he enters, the look of nervousness fading when she sees that it's him.

"Don't worry," he says, not knowing who she thought would be walking through the door, but knowing his statement would be accurate for any of them. "The big bad wolf is gone."

Maisie snickers, dropping her head to study her intertwining fingers, her hands clasped together between her knees. She always did that when she was thinking too hard about something. Rip takes her forearms and has her stand up, then leads her outside. He props himself on the railing, and she follows, resting her hip on the post behind her and crossing her arms. The sun sets between them, flares of sienna and coral tinting their skin. Golden light illuminates her distinguished cheekbones and paints waves of color in her hair.

"No one's gonna tell you exactly what happened. They'll tell you bits and pieces, but you're gonna be missing one big chunk, and I pray to God it stays missing," He looks at her from over his shoulder before straightening up. He towers over her, but she doesn't seem the least bit intimidated.

"What's gonna be missing?" She asks, her voice soft as a flower. He doesn't answer, but her features remain inquisitive.

"I wanna show you 'round. Maybe you'll remember more of the good stuff," He gives her a wobbly smile and holds out his arm as if to say: 'after you.' She obliges and leaves the porch, letting him guide her to the stables. A man with gold hair down to his ears and big black puppy dog eyes is sitting outside of the stables, wiping his brow. He looks up when they approach and gives a soft smile.

"Maisie Daisy," He says simply, as though she never left. He was a teen when she was here, and rescuing her was the first 'mission' he ever went on for his father. If anyone would tell her the truth, it's him, and Rip realizes that, staring him down.

"K-Kayce?" She asks, the most unsure she's sounded when reconciling with the Yellowstone family. Rip realizes that he's changed the most since she was here, and rests a hand on her shoulder.

"It's been a while. Don't let them bully you out of your home," Kayce stands up, shoots a look at Rip, and puts his hat back on.

"I don't think they're going to. Not anymore," She smiles, and Rip relaxes. She turns to him with a pleading 'Can we go now?' look in her eyes. He wordlessly leads her away, giving a brief tour of the estate, and watching as she excitedly babbles about memories. It's late in the evening when John meets them out by the cattle. He gives Rip a knowing look, then takes Maisie back home, listening to her telling him stories and thanking him for his time.