Happy Cow Ranch

Kick the Dust Up

I couldn't help shuddering as I looked down into the frothy waters beneath me. They looked warm enough, and Beth had tested them just a minute before, so I wasn't too worried about temperature. All I could think about was the shocks. The breathtaking, crippling, make-me-want-to-claw-my-eyes-out jolts of electricity that that... that man would send coursing through my body in an attempt to kill me. He had a gun... why the hell didn't he just shoot me? God, I wish he would've just—

"Maisie? Hey, it's okay. You're safe. Just get in the bath, it's getting cold," Beth nods to the tub, and I follow her gaze, swallowing hard. I nod, drop the towel, and slowly, carefully sink beneath the bubbles. I wince at first, but after a minute it's soothing, relaxing even. I release a deep forced breath, allowing myself to drift a little lower. Beth tosses in some epsom salt that was sitting on a small, dark marble perch near the bath. I jump at the movement of her arm, quietly apologizing. She just shakes her head. After a few minutes of soaking I look up to see her staring at her clasped hands.

"I'll be okay, Beth. You don't have to stay," I reassure her, glancing up.

"Oh, honey, if you think I'm going anywhere... I'll turn around, but like hell am I gonna leave you," Beth stares me down, her words venomous, but not to me. I frown wondering where this protectiveness is coming from. Why were they looking for me? What was so important that it required all the remaining ranch hands needed to band together to find me?

All these thoughts are swimming in my head as I gently wash my arms and shoulders, staring into the water in front of me. Finally, I look up.

"Did something happen, Beth?"

"Nothing you have to worry about," She responds, patting my hand. I move it away, frowning at the woman in front of me.

"Beth..." I warn, staring her down.

"Oh, you don't wanna play that game, girl. But, I'll tell you, just 'cause I feel sorry for your miserable raisiny ass," Beth huffs, crossing her arms.

"Thank you, Beth." I smile at her, taking her hand.

"They got one of the guys who took you. They're interrogating him right now. He seemed to think that someone was gonna try to kill you," She informs me, completely devoid of emotion. I sit up immediately, water sloshing over the sides.

"Who? What does he look like? What's his name?" I fire off questions, panic creeping in.

"Woah, you're okay. His name's Antonio or something like that—"

"Shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit—" I stumble out of the tub, landing awkwardly on the towel at my feet.

"Woah, hey, what's going on?" She follows me as I wrap up and storm out of the bathroom. I grab my t-shirt that was sitting on the bed and wrap my hair up, hoping to avoid dripping water on the Dutton's hardwood floor. "Maisie!"

At the sound of Beth's voice the group—who were peacefully munching on cheesy potatoes—turn to look for the source, Jimmy and Jamie going red at the sight of my sudsy, half-wrapped self, Rip sighing as he makes his way to the front door, placing a hand on it as I try to open it. I glare up at him, but after years of dealing with Beth, he's practically immune.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyebrow raised.

"Police station." I try the door again. Jamie stands up slowly, but I pay no mind to him. I jiggle the door handle again, pissed when there's no movement. "Rip."

"Why do you need to go to the police station?" He inquires, drawing out his question.

"I swear to God, Rip, I will drop this towel and wiggle out the window butt-ass naked," I threaten, holding my towel up with just two fingers.

"Oh, no, don't do that," I hear one of the ranch hands mutter, to which the other, a girl with pink hair, laughs at him.

"Honey, you don't have to go the police station, we can just call Weston, tell him whatever you need, and you can finish soothing your wounds," Rip explains, holding my shoulders gently. Unfortunately for him, this means that he's taken his hand off the door, so I spring for it, tearing it open. I twirl out of Rip's grasp, racing to one of the trucks, and cursing wildly when the truck door doesn't open. I slam on it, trying all the other doors, until finally, I open the passenger door. I hop in, planning to crawl across to the drivers side. About as soon as my knee is on the center console, I notice that the driver's seat is inhabited. Slowly, I let my eyes move up, meeting the man sitting beside me.

"Buckle up," Jamie commands.