Happy Cow Ranch

Where the Green Grass Grows

A truck comes rolling down the driveway, rumbling and sending dust flying. It's an old square body Chevy, light blue with a white stripe, toting a cute girl with wild blonde hair and two puppies fighting for the spot on the window. Weston stands up when he sees her, and the two Yellowstone men sitting beside him follow his movements with their eyes, snickering at him. He blushes but leans against a post, pretending he just wants to stretch his legs. He looks away when he sees the girl frown, trying to figure out who the newcomer is. She puts the truck in park and hops out, going around to pick up each of the puppies before making her way to the house.

"Hi! I'm Maisie Walker, and these are Koda and Hoka," The girl grins as she introduces the puppies, giggling as she leans away from Koda's tongue, licking futilely towards her cheek. Weston bites his cheek to keep all emotion off his face.

"Weston Palmer, ma'am. I'm your new ranch hand." He sticks out his hand, and she takes it, her soft palm feeling slightly cold in his massive, calloused hand.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you. You don't have to call me ma'am, though; if I had to guess, I'm younger than you," Her voice has a slightly teasing tone, and Weston can swear that he sees her wink before her attention is turned to John Dutton, standing up as well.

"We're gonna head out now. Glad you got everything you needed," John smiles, patting Rip's back to indicate that it's time to leave. Rip keeps his eyes trained on Weston as he goes to the truck that just pulled up with Yellowstone's big emblem on each side. Weston knows that this is a warning. This young girl seems to be the center of their world right now, and if anything were to happen to her... well, hell, Weston would be pissed with himself. She's like a ray of sunshine, a warm breeze trickling through a chilly day.

Rip comes back a minute later, a ruthless-looking woman following along. Three shopping bags are on each of Rip's arms, and he deposits them at Maisie's feet, sighing before he looks over his shoulder at the woman.

"Beth wants us to stay. Whaddya think?" He asks John, and John chuckles.

"Of course she does. I don't wanna overstay our welcome-" He begins, but Maisie cuts him off, her hand shaking in front of her.

"Oh, no! No, you're always welcome, Mr. Dutton! Anyone from Yellowstone is welcome anytime they want. Would you like to stay for dinner?" She inquires, looking around.

"Well, if it involves more of those meatballs, count me in," John smiles down at her, like a proud father. Weston takes note of this as she continues talking to him, taking her shopping bags and the puppies inside. While Beth and Maisie wander inside, John tells the two that he's going to get her horses ready to go on a ride, and that Rip should start showing him around. Before they leave the porch, however, he can hear Maisie whisper to Beth: "Are all the boys in Montana ex-Abercrombie models? I mean, seriously, what's in the water here?"

Beth responds with a snort and a comment about how she's seen that they're not, and some other harsh remarks. Maisie laughs at this and continues to ramble.

Weston whips his head back around as he shoves his hands in his pockets, fighting a smile. She thinks I'm hot, he glances back over his shoulder.

"So, the girl. What's her story? I don't know if I've been hearing the town legend of the ruthlessness of Yellowstone wrong, or if the girl is just a goddess on earth, but she seems to be special. Why is that?" Weston gets to the point, explaining himself when Rip shoots him a confused look.

"She... she was kidnapped when she was a young girl. On Yellowstone property. When we found her she was surrounded by bloodied tools, tied up, and beaten nearly to death. When she saw us, she started apologizing, assuring us that she was fine... but she never cried, not once. Not even when the doctors sewed her back together. Not even when she heard the gunshots of the fight between our ranch hands and the two assholes who did it. Just apologized," Rip confesses, the information overflowing as though the final seal on the dam of details broke. He snarls, tears filling his own eyes before he takes off his sunglasses and wipes them away on his sleeve.

"She's... she's just a little girl," Weston mutters, his heart teeming with respect and grief for this poor, sweet ray of sunshine.

"No," Rip says, and nods toward where John Dutton sits on a chestnut colored steed, chatting with Maisie who sits comfortably and tall on a palomino, both the horse and the girl looking strong. She's changed clothes, now in a large green plaid button up, Wrangler jeans, white boots, and a tan straw cowboy hat resting perfectly on that head of curls. "She's a cowgirl."

Weston still isn't convinced, but nods along, turning his attention back to Rip.

"Well, where's the bunk house?"

"Through here," Rip starts walking, leaning back to keep his balance down the hill. Weston huffs a chuckle and follows, hanging his head as they get closer to his new boss and her new father figure. The two stop talking and Maisie leans on her horses neck, smiling at him.

"Well, howdy, Tex. Mr. Dutton was just telling me about your... past troubles," She raises an eyebrow as she talks in such a way that elicits a strange feeling in his chest. He wants to defend himself, and yet, when he hears that stupid nickname roll from her sweet lips, a warmth spreads in him and brings a smile to his face.

"Just gives me more experience." He builds himself up.

"In?" She counters, her speed and wit intimidating the large cowboy.

"In protecting people I care about," Weston responds, shocking the young girl. Her eyebrows shoot up before she swallows and gives a smile.

"Well, that oughta be handy. Let's hope you and I start carin' a little bit about each other, huh, Wes?" She smiles, clicks her tongue at her horse and knees him forward. John chuckles, sitting up and forward on his horse.

"Don't fuck this up, kid." He tips his hat, then spurs the horse to follow Maisie. Rip is looking Weston up and down, obviously assessing him; when his boss leaves, he claps Weston on the shoulder and leads him along.