#yellowstone smut

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Thirty-Six

I couldn’t begin to fathom the pain Kayce and Monica were going through, so I stepped back, leaving them to their grief. But the weight of their loss pressed heavily on me too. The thought that our family might stop with Tate... it sat in my chest like a stone.

I called Jamie, and for once, he actually answered.

“It’s a busy day, Alex,” he said, his voice tight. “What do you need?”

“Sorry,” I replied, caught off-guard. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up. How’s Dad holding up?”

“He’s fine,” he said flatly.

“How are you holding up with everything?” I knew Beth had been all over him. Even though she knew Jamie wasn’t the one who killed Randall, the photo she had would tell whatever story she wanted.

“I’m keeping my head down,” he replied, “doing my job. Same as any other day.”

“I told Dad the truth,” I said quietly.

“Why?” His voice dropped, frustration and something deeper laced in his words. “Why would you do that, Alex? I was fine with him seeing me the way he always has. It’s nothing new.”

“I didn’t want him to see you like that,” I replied, my voice firm. “You deserve peace. You deserve to not carry that weight alone.”

“I doubt that,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“You should tell him about your son,” I said, the words hanging heavy. “He deserves to know he’s got another grandson.”

“I can’t,” Jamie whispered. “She won’t let me be part of his life if Dad’s in the picture. She’s got me trapped.”

I felt my chest tighten. The woman who held Jamie’s son in her grip had all the cards, and she wasn’t afraid to play them. She knew too much of what Jamie had done, and I could see how that could make him a problem for her. I’d thought of ways to make her disappear, but taking a mother from her child? No matter what she was, I couldn’t bring myself to cross that line, even if I’d entertained the thought more than once.

“Eventually, he’ll know, Jamie,” I said, my voice soft. “This isn’t a secret that can be kept forever.”

“Please, don’t say anything,” he said quickly. “Let me figure it out.”

“I’ll keep your secret, Jamie,” I promised. “But think about it. That bitch doesn’t get to control everything. You’re a lawyer. You can figure something out.”

“She’s not a bitch,” he muttered, though I could hear the edge in his tone.

“Okay, maybe not a bitch,” I teased, “but she’s definitely a heartless, manipulative cunt with no warmth or depth.”

Jamie chuckled, despite the tension. “You really should stop spending so much time in the bunkhouse.”

“I’m not lying,” I said, smiling. “Love you, Jamie.”

“I love you too,” he said, his voice softening. “Just... behave yourself.”

“No promises.”

“Baby!” Ryan’s voice carried up from the kitchen. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Sorry, I forgot to grab regular coffee at the store,” I called back. “There’s a whole drawer of K-cups under the coffee maker if you want to use one.”

I finished tucking in my shirt as I made my way down from the loft, catching sight of him rummaging through the drawer, his expression twisted in mild frustration.

“All of these are flavored with shit,” he muttered, holding one up like it personally offended him.

“That makes them even better,” I teased, grinning at his confusion. I plucked one from the drawer and held it out to him. “I think you need a little Cinnamon Vanilla in your life.”

He gave me a skeptical look as I popped the cup into the machine and pressed start.

“Trust me, you’re gonna love it,” I said, watching the coffee drip into the mug.

Ryan exhaled, shaking his head. “I trust you, baby,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. “But I doubt I’m gonna love it.”

I looked up at him with a teasing smile. “Just wait until fall—I’ll have you drinking pumpkin spice with all the girlies.”

He smirked, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Oh, you’re one of those girls, huh?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” I murmured, tugging him back in for another kiss.

The machine beeped, signaling it was ready. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it to the brim as the rich aroma curled into the air. Smiling, I held it out, but before he could take it, I reached for a can of foam, swirling a thick layer on top.

“Wait a second,” I said, giving it the final touch. “Now it’s perfect.”

Ryan eyed the cup like I’d just handed him poison.

“Just drink it,” I coaxed, pushing it toward him. “I promise I’ll raid my dad’s pantry for regular coffee tomorrow.”

He brought the cup to his lips hesitantly, then blinked in surprise. “Okay… that is good.”

“See? Told you,” I grinned, reaching up to wipe the foam from his upper lip with my thumb.

His eyes softened as he looked at me, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

“You ready to go?” I finally asked, breaking the spell.

“Yep.” With his coffee in hand, we walked together toward the barn.

Colby shot Ryan a skeptical look as he led his horse out of the stall. “What the fuck are you drinking?”

Ryan lifted the cup. “Cinnamon Vanilla with foam,” he said, then downed the rest before setting it on the ledge. “Pretty fucking good.”

Colby let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, I think I need to collect your man card, bro.”

“Don’t be jealous,” I smirked. “I’ll bring you a cup tomorrow. Extra foam.”

I swung my leg over my horse, settling into the saddle as we rode out toward the corral to wait for our orders.

Rip strolled out of the barn, sliding his rifle into the saddle scabbard—just in case. He glanced over at Carter. “Go saddle Mr. Dutton’s horse.”

“He here?” Carter asked.

“No, but we need to keep him legged up,” Rip said.

Carter hesitated. “Who’s gonna ride him?”

“You are,” Rip told him. “Now hurry up. God didn’t add extra daylight to Tuesday, Carter. Let’s go.”

Carter scrambled back into the barn, moving like he’d forgotten everything he’d learned since setting foot on this ranch.

Lloyd and I rode up beside Rip as he shook his head. “I think that fucker tripped and hit his head this morning,” he muttered. “Fuck this shit. Lloyd, you deal with it. I’m done.”

Rip turned his horse toward the field. “C’mon, Alex. Let’s go.”

“We’ll catch up,” Lloyd called after us as we rode out, leaving him to straighten Carter out.

I clicked my tongue, guiding my horse through the cattle as we pushed them across the valley. A dark shape in the tall grass caught my eye. Something about it felt off.

I nudged my horse closer and felt my stomach turn the moment I saw it—a dead cow, her stomach torn open, intestines spilling out like something had gutted her from the inside. The stench hit me a second later, sharp and putrid.

“Hey! Over here!” I called out.

Rip, Lloyd, and Ryan rode over, their expressions hardening as they took in the sight.

“Shit,” Lloyd muttered, shaking his head. “Wolves.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, my jaw tightening.

Ryan swung down from his horse, crouching beside the carcass for a closer look.

“Strange they’d go after the mama,” Lloyd observed, frowning.

“She was probably protecting her calf,” Rip said.

Ryan ran a gloved hand over the torn hide, his eyes scanning the ground. “I don’t think wolves killed her,” he said.

Lloyd gestured to the tracks circling the body. “You got wolf prints all around. Stomach and ass eaten out—that’s wolves.”

“I’m not saying they didn’t eat her,” Ryan countered. “I’m saying they didn’t kill her. No bites on the hocks. She was already down when they found her.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rip said flatly. “They’ve got the taste for beef now. Can you get us depredation tags?”

Ryan hesitated. “Let me call Kayce, get a state hunter out here.”

“No,” I cut in. “Not with everything he’s dealing with right now.”

Rip nodded. “Last thing we need is state hunters poking around three days into Mr. Dutton’s term. Just get the tags—we’ll handle it ourselves.”

Ryan’s jaw tensed. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t in a position to argue.

Rip turned to Lloyd. “Let’s start moving the herd back to the barn.”

I took one last look at the carcass, the stench of death thick in the air, before nudging my horse back toward the herd. The scene sat heavy in my gut—flesh torn open, insides spilling into the dirt like something had feasted carelessly, without urgency, without desperation. I knew how this all worked, the endless cycle of life—grass grows, the cow eats the grass, then something or someone eats the cow. Simple. Necessary. But seeing it like this, ripped apart and left to rot, always left me feeling a little off-kilter.

I wasn’t naive. I’d killed plenty, butchered plenty. A necessary death was one thing. But this? This was different. Maybe it was the waste, maybe it was the way the cow had suffered before the end. Either way, I had no appetite for beef tonight. Hell, I might just stick to chicken for a while.

Ahead, Carter finally caught up with us, the reins gripped tight in his hands as he guided my father’s horse through the field. He was pushing a stray cow back into the herd, his face focused, but I could see the thrill beneath it. That rush of control, of command, the kind that came with riding a good horse and making something bend to your will.

Hard to believe he’d been some street kid not too long ago, all attitude, nothing to his name but a sharp tongue and a chip on his shoulder. Now? He was taller, stronger, tanned from long days in the sun. He looked like he belonged here. Like this life had sunk its teeth into him, just like it had the rest of us.

Rip glanced back at him, watching for a second before turning to me. “He’s getting better.”

I smirked. “Yeah, well, let’s see if he still looks like he belongs when he’s shoveling shit tomorrow.”

Rip let out a low chuckle, and we rode on, the herd moving slowly in front of us, the weight of the dead cow still pressing at the back of my mind.

Lloyd let out a low chuckle, the sound carrying through the air as he called out to Carter, “You got a crash course in cowboying today, kid.”

Carter flashed a grin, brushing off the fall like it was nothing more than a small hiccup. “Yeah,” he said, “Hope I get another one tomorrow.”

“You’ll get one every day,” I added, my voice steady as I nudged my horse forward. “You wanna help me get around that pair?” I pointed toward a couple of cows veering off from the herd. “Push ’em up for me?”

“Alright,” he replied with a confident nod, and without hesitation, Carter spurred his horse into motion. His eyes locked onto the cows, focused and determined as he cut through the pasture.

But then, there was a sharp cry—a shriek of pain that made my blood run cold. It wasn’t just the screech of a horse; it was a sound I’d heard before. The sickening snap of bone.

I yanked on the reins, pulling my horse to a halt, my stomach sinking as I saw Carter and his mount crumple to the ground. The boy and the horse both twisted in the dirt, their limbs tangled, struggling in agony.

“Carter!” I called, my voice tight with panic as I jumped down from my saddle, running toward them. My heart pounded in my chest, my hands shaking as I looked between the boy and the fallen horse. The horse’s leg was bent at a cruel angle, blood trickling from the wound where the bone had snapped. Carter, too, was in obvious pain, trying to crawl out from under the massive animal.

“What happened?” he gasped, his voice strained as he fought to free himself, grimacing.

“Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling beside him. His arm hung limp at his side, the way it pressed against the ground telling me it was more than just a scrape.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, but the way his face paled, the cold sweat on his brow, told a different story.

“Raise your arm up,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. He tried, but the pain was too much. He winced, and the tears welled in his eyes. “It doesn’t look okay,” I told him quietly.

The sound of hoofbeats behind me drew my attention, and I turned to see Rip riding up fast. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the scene, and I could see his jaw tighten as he took in the damage.

“What happened?” Rip asked, his voice tense.

“The horse stepped in a hole and fell,” I told him, my words clipped as I tried to assess the situation.

Carter’s face turned red with shame, his voice soft and thick with regret. “I didn’t see the hole... I’m sorry.”

“You need to keep one eye on the cows,” Rip scolded, his voice low but edged with frustration, “and the other on the ground. You’re not just out here playing, Carter.”

I shot him a sharp look, a warning in my eyes, but Rip wasn’t done.

“Rip…” I said softly, my voice carrying a plea I wasn’t sure he’d listen to. I knew what had to be done, but damn it, I didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to be the one to make that decision.

Carter’s face crumpled, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. “Is the horse gonna be okay?” he asked, the words barely a whisper.

I knelt down beside my father’s horse, gently trying to calm him. His breathing was shallow, the pain clear in his eyes, but there was nothing I could do. I stroked the side of his neck, feeling the tremble in his skin.

“No,” I muttered, my voice hollow as I reached for my rifle. “Broken legs on horses don’t ever set right. He’ll never be able to walk again.”

Rip didn’t hesitate. I heard the unmistakable click of the rifle, the sound sharp and final.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut, the weight of the decision crashing down on me. There was no other choice.

A moment later, the gunshot rang out, loud and unforgiving. The echo of it lingered in the silence, hanging in the air like a thick fog. My heart felt heavier than ever as I opened my eyes, watching the horse’s life end.

Carter didn’t move. He sat there, staring at the ground, his face a mask of grief and guilt.

“Go on, get back to work,” Rip’s voice was steady but tinged with the weight of what had just transpired. He turned, signaling to the rest of the hands to get back to the task at hand, but his eyes lingered for a moment on the scene before him.

“I’m sorry,” Carter mumbled again, his voice strained with guilt, the words falling flat in the wake of what had happened.

“I bet you are,” Rip replied, his tone hard but not unkind. “I’m sorry too. Now take that bridle and saddle, and walk it back to the barn. We don’t have time to dwell.” His words were a reminder of the brutal efficiency of ranch life—no matter the grief, the work didn’t stop.

Ryan, Colby, and Lloyd dismounted, their movements swift as they moved toward Carter, ready to help him with the heavy task of removing the saddle from the fallen horse. Despite the pain in his eyes, Carter hoisted the saddle with determination, his hands shaking slightly as he swung it over his shoulder. Then, with a deep breath, he started walking back to the barn, the weight of the saddle and the failure he felt pressing down on him.

I watched him for a moment, my heart aching for the boy. His shoulders were slumped, but there was a quiet resolve in his gait. He wasn’t running from it, even though I knew that’s exactly what he’d want to do. But there was no running on the ranch—not from the land, not from the animals, and certainly not from the hard lessons it taught.

“You okay, baby?” Ryan’s voice came from behind me, soft with concern. I hadn’t heard him approach, but I was thankful for the familiarity of his presence.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I turned to face him, forcing a small smile. “It’s just... too much death for one day.” I glanced over at the fallen horse one last time, the sight of him still fresh in my mind, haunting. The ranch had a way of taking more than it gave. But it was life out here—raw, unforgiving, and often brutal. “But that’s ranch life, I guess.”

The weight of the day’s events settled into my bones like a heavy cloak. There was nothing I could do about it now. It was just another chapter in a long, unforgiving story.

Ryan reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder, his touch a small comfort in the face of the hard realities of ranch life.

With a sigh, I took the reins of my own horse, pulling myself up into the saddle. There was more to be done, and I knew there was no sense in lingering any longer. The cattle still needed to be moved. The work had to go on.

“Let’s finish this,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

Ryan gave me a nod, understanding without needing words, and together we rode back to the herd, pushing forward through the endless fields, the land stretching out before us, indifferent to the pain we carried with us.

—----------------

“This ain’t bad,” Colby said, taking a bite of the chicken and nodding approvingly. “I thought you couldn’t cook.”

“It’s a chicken box meal,” I shrugged, watching him and Ryan shovel it in. “Had directions on the back. So it’s hard to mess up.”

“Baby,” Ryan said between mouthfuls, “you seriously underestimate yourself. This is actually really good.”

“Give credit to Velveeta,” I shot back with a grin, “it’s the real MVP here.” I leaned back in my chair, watching them eat, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. "Y’all going to find those wolves?"

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Got the tags, so everything’s in place. Just make sure you don’t answer the door if someone threatens to blow the house down.” He gave me a wink, his tone half-joking, but I could hear the edge of seriousness there too.

I gave him a skeptical look. "I’ll keep the door locked, thanks."

Colby chuckled at the exchange, clearly enjoying the banter. "Y’all ever think we could just have a quiet dinner without any wolf problems?"

“Would you still be here if there weren’t wolf problems?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, watching the two of them.

“Now that I know you’re not just winging it in the kitchen, I might stick around for dinner more often,” Colby responded.

“Will y’all be out late?” I asked, glancing between them, knowing the work would take a while.

Ryan sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Sorry, baby, this will take as long as it takes.”

“Ok,” I said, offering a small smile, “but wake me up when you get in?”

Ryan’s eyes flickered to me with a teasing grin. “Like you woke me up the other morning?”

I leaned in, my lips just near his ear, my voice a whisper. “I’ll sleep naked so you can get started before I even wake up.”

Colby, who was washing his plate at the sink, froze for a second before muttering under his breath, “This is not a conversation I need to be a part of.”

Ryan chuckled, trying to hide his amusement, but I could see the flush on his face. "You’ll survive, Colby," he teased. "Just get your plate done, so we can get out of here."

“What are you gonna do while we’re out hunting wolves?” Colby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably take an everything shower,” I replied nonchalantly.

“What the hell is an everything shower?” he asked, looking confused. “Don’t you wash everything when you shower anyway?”

Ryan chuckled from the doorway, glancing at Colby. “You really don’t want to know, buddy. It’s a whole ritual. Takes her forever. We’ll probably be back before she’s even done.”

I called after them, “I’ll remember that the next time you mention how smooth and soft my skin is, cowboy.”

Ryan looked over his shoulder, flashing a grin. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate it, baby. Just that it takes you fucking forever to do it.”

I watched as Ryan and Colby disappeared into the barn, their boots crunching on the gravel, before I quietly closed the door behind them. It wasn’t often that I had the time—or the space—to indulge in a moment for myself. Life on the ranch was always a whirlwind, every task, every responsibility, stacked on top of the next. But today, for the first time in a while, there was nothing pressing. Nothing that needed my immediate attention.

I took a breath, my fingers tracing the outline of the gear laid out before me. It was like preparing for battle, but instead of weapons, I had serums, moisturizers, exfoliators, and a deep-conditioning mask. All the tools to strip away the roughness of the day and reclaim a little peace.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I stepped into the warm water, letting it flow over me like a welcoming embrace. The heat softened the tension in my muscles, rinsing off the dirt and fatigue that had accumulated. The rush of the world fell away, and for a brief moment, I was just… me.

I grabbed the sugar scrub and worked it into my skin with a gentle pressure, the grains dissolving against my tired body. It wasn’t just about cleaning off the grime from a hard day; it was a ritual. Each movement felt like a reclaiming of my own time, my own space. With every stroke, I rinsed away more than just the physical reminders of the day—I let go of the weight of responsibility that followed me everywhere else.

The water had started to run cool by the time I applied the deep conditioning mask, the thick cream smoothing over my hair like a silk blanket. I stepped out of the shower, the chill of the air meeting my damp skin, but I knew the water would warm up again before I was ready to rinse it out.

I wrapped a soft, fluffy robe around my body, the fabric enveloping me like a gentle hug. The familiar comfort of it settled my mind as I made my way to the couch. There was something about the simplicity of the moment that felt luxurious. I grabbed the remote, flicking through channels before landing on a mindless reality TV show—something ridiculous enough to make me forget about the world outside.

The low murmur of the television filled the silence as I settled in, one leg folded underneath me. I popped open a bottle of polish, the bright color of it catching my eye, and began painting my toenails, the slow, repetitive motion offering its own kind of peace. It was a small indulgence, one that didn’t need justification. In a life that moved fast, I realized, sometimes the simplest things—like taking the time to pamper myself—were the moments I appreciated the most.

My phone rang, cutting through the quiet hum of the TV. I glanced at the screen—Ryan.

“You finished already, cowboy? I’m only half done,” I said with a playful smile as I swiped to answer.

“Baby, we’ve been gone over an hour and you’re still not done?” His voice had that teasing tone, but there was something else beneath it, something I couldn’t quite place.

“Beauty takes time,” I said, a hint of laughter in my voice, but the pause on the other end of the line made me frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied quickly, but I could hear the tension in his words. “I just may not be back until the morning. This is gonna take longer than I thought.”

The lightheartedness of our conversation dimmed, my stomach tightening with a mix of concern and curiosity. “Ryan... what’s really going on?” I asked, my voice softer now, more serious.

He didn’t answer right away, and I could almost feel the weight of whatever he was holding back. I bit my lip, trying not to worry.

“We found the wolves,” he said, his voice low. “But they weren’t what we were expecting. They came down from the park.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing my temples as the weight of the situation sank in. “Those wolves have a social media following.”

“I know,” he replied, sounding just as drained. “Rip’s on his way to help us deal with it.”

“Great,” I muttered, feeling a knot form in my stomach. “Ok, just... don’t do anything dumb, alright?”

“The dumb part’s already over,” he said dryly. “Now we just have to clean up the mess.”

I leaned back against the couch, my voice softer now. “Well, I love you even when you do dumb shit.”

A quiet chuckle echoed in his response, though I could tell it was forced. “I love you too,” he said. There was a brief pause before he added, his tone turning serious, “And you don’t have to work so hard to be beautiful. You just are.”

I smiled, a warmth spreading in my chest. “You’re sweet. But right now, I’d just rather have you home safe.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “I gotta go and take care of this. Good night, baby.”

“Good night, cowboy,” I replied, my voice steady, though I could feel the anxiety creeping up again as I ended the call.

—--

I drifted off to sleep shortly after finishing my routine, sprawled out in the middle of the bed, just as I promised. Naked, the cool sheets brushing against my skin. But when I woke up, the sun was already streaming through the window, and Ryan still hadn’t come home. The worry started to settle in, knotting my stomach.

I dressed quickly, my mind swirling with unanswered questions, before heading to the main house. I poured myself a cup of coffee, trying to ground myself in the small comfort of the morning ritual. Stepping outside onto the porch, I found Dad standing there, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He was already dressed in his suit, preparing for another day of the never-ending battle that came with his role as Governor.

“Morning, Dad,” I called out softly.

He turned to me, his weathered face softening. “Morning, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rich with the quiet strength that had carried him through so many years. “You sleep ok?”

I hesitated, wrapping my hands around the warmth of my mug. “It’s harder than I thought… sleeping without him there.” The emptiness of the bed had felt louder in the silence of the night.

“I still feel that way too,” he said quietly. His eyes stayed fixed on the distant line where the land met the sky. My father had never truly moved on after Mom. She’d been gone for twenty years now, but I could tell just from the way he spoke that the ache never really faded.

The thought struck me like a weight in my chest—was that the way it worked? Were we only ever given one person to love with our whole souls in a lifetime? And what if that person was taken from us too soon?

Dad’s eyes flicked to me for a brief moment, sensing the shift in my thoughts, but he said nothing. He never needed to. His silence was always an invitation to share whatever was on my mind, or just to stand there, knowing the quiet could sometimes say more than words.

“Wow,” a soft voice spoke from behind me, drawing my attention. I turned to find a tall woman with dark hair, standing at the edge of the porch, her gaze sweeping out over the vast land in front of us.

She didn’t look like someone who’d be here for any casual reason. There was something about the way she carried herself, her posture rigid but calm, like she was used to the weight of power. 

“Good morning, Clara,” my father greeted, his tone warm but professional. “This is my other daughter, Alex.”

I gave her a slight nod, but something about the introduction didn’t sit right. The words my other daughter hung in the air, and though I had always been known as Kayce’s twin, Lee, Jamie, and Beth’s little sister, being referred to simply as the other one didn’t feel right. It was as if I was being reduced to a mere footnote in the presence of someone else. Someone new.

Clara didn’t seem to notice, or at least, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that felt familiar. There was something guarded about it, something calculated. I scanned her quickly, my eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She was dressed professionally, but there was an air of careful composure about her.

Relief washed over me when I noticed the leather folder. Not Dad’s mistress, then. The last thing I needed was more complications in that department. She was his assistant—likely someone who could handle the heavy lifting of his work, the kind of person who was useful, indispensable, but always kept at arm’s length.

I met her gaze for a moment, trying to read the subtle lines in her face, the way her eyes shifted when she looked at me. Maybe it was paranoia, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Clara than met the eye.

“How far does it go?” Clara asked, her voice soft but curious, as she looked out over the sprawling ranch. Her eyes traced the line of the land where the horizon met the sky, as if searching for some end to it, some boundary to contain what seemed so vast.

I glanced over at my father, then back at the endless expanse of fields, trees, and hills stretching out before us. The weight of the land seemed to hang in the air, the magnitude of it making it hard for anyone who wasn’t raised here to truly comprehend.

“You can’t see the end from here,” I told her, my voice steady. The land was as much a part of me as my own breath, but I understood that for someone like Clara, it was beyond imagination. Beyond the scope of what her world was likely used to. The vastness of it was almost suffocating in its silence, the kind of silence that could swallow up everything if you weren’t careful.

Clara stood there, still, taking it in. There was something about her, the way she was absorbing everything, that felt... not quite right. She wasn’t just admiring the landscape; there was something else there, an unspoken question hanging in the air. Something was brewing in her mind, and I could almost feel the wheels turning.

“I can’t imagine what it takes to maintain this place,” she said, her voice breaking the moment of quiet contemplation. She still hadn’t shifted her gaze from the land, almost as though she were trying to digest the enormity of it all.

My father let out a breath, as if it were a statement he had said a thousand times before. “It takes everything,” he said, his voice low and heavy with experience. The words carried the weight of years spent working this land, of sacrifice and relentless effort, of giving so much that there was little left to give. I nodded in agreement, the truth of it settling over me like a heavy cloak.

It wasn’t just about maintaining the ranch—it was about maintaining the life, the legacy, everything that came with it. The cost of holding on to something this big, this important, wasn’t measured in money or resources—it was measured in time, effort, and personal sacrifice.

[kenziexoxoxo]

Jamie Dutton x Reader Something for yourself

As always I don't own the picture

Warnings: smut

Jamie had never really done anything for himself he was always making sure everyone else was taken care of. Till he met you, Y/n was assigned to be his assistant during his campaign for district attorney. Was able to keep the peace between Jamie and John. Seeing as his campaign manager Christina was trying to take control of Jamie's phones and ruin John. Y/n had grown up in Montana and knew the Dutton family and their reputation her father is friends with John so like hell was she gonna let Christina do that. The campaign was coming to an end and he wasn't ready to let her go she was something else she set him straight and made him wake up. He wat he'd her move around the office picking what was left up as voting was that day so it was over. She felt his eyes on her so she looked up. "Nervous?" She asked, putting a box down and walking over to him he was sitting down legs spread open he wanted to grab her and put her on his lap but she was so much younger than him she had gone to school with his little brother Kayce she was a year and a half younger than Kayce. "No we've got this the town wouldn't go against my father." He said rolling his eyes she knew that was true. "Very true they'd never do anything against him I know everyone in my family voted for you so." She said leaning her hip against the desk where he was sitting. He was looking up at her in her tight black dress that left little to nothing to the imagination. He was feeling a little bold so he grabbed her hips pulling her into his lap. She squeaked a blush covering her face. Jamie stared up at her. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on." He whispered one of his large hands cupping her face. She whispered back a small thank you. She could feel the growing problem in his dress pants. She lightly grinned down on him he moaned pulling her closer and pulling up her dress a little and un doing his dress pants and slipping himself out of his boxers. She wouldn't lie she's thought about this a lot the thought of doing this with him so she was already honry as fuck and could feel her arousal leaking down her thighs. He slowly slipped into her and moved her gently his head falling back on the chair. She didn't wanna admit it but not long after she started riding him she was close very close. Jamie snaked a hand down and started playing with her clit making her movements more erratic as she clamped down around him finishing and before he could even think to pull out he was finishing inside her. "Fuck sorry." He said sheepishly she flopped against him out of breath. "It's fine." She mumbled then the door opened it was father thankfully he didn't see anything before he quickly shit the door and walked out. She busted out laughing as Jamie groaned.

Thanks for reading my schedule is gonna change cause I'm starting night shift tonight so :) lord help me imma be tired

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Second Chances

A/n: first time writing for Rip Wheeler, hope to write more for him

I started this months ago and just finished but I hope it’s good :)

Warnings: implied smut, religious trauma, Beth and Rip aren’t together anymore(love Beth but it couldn’t work for the idea 😔), abuse, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Masterlist

He looks so pouty and cute I can’t 🥺

~October 15th, 6:37 pm~

"You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?" John's gruff voice came over the phone, voice wavering through heavy breaths.

"Yeah, why?" Rip asked, he'd just been making himself a quick dinner, body already aching for the sanctity of bed and rest.

"I'll explain later, just get it ready." John hung up before Rip could say anything more.

~7:05 am~

There was an old abandoned shed farther away from the main house, way over a few fields. It once served a purpose but now just lay, holding a few tools that no one had ever bothered to retrieve, there wasn't enough reason behind it anyway.

However, John had been passing by it the past few months with loose cattle around and kept hearing noise coming from it. At first he didn't pay much attention to it, it was most likely just some animals that had taken it over to hide away from the cooling weather, but he wanted to check it out when the sounds started getting stranger.

"Kayce," he called to his youngest son, "I want to take you with me to check out the shed up North of here." He said.

Kayce was with his wife, Monica, and son, Tate. They were having breakfast together, Tate was going off about something and Monica was listening closely, Kayce had been as well until his father came over to him.

"Up North?" He repeated. "Why? That thing’s been here longer than me, never needed to check on it before."

John sucked his teeth and shrugged. "Just come with me later, alright?" Kayce agreed, he had nothing else to do. Nothing to do with the ranch, anyway.

They couldn't head off right away, things needed to get done with the horses and such, everyone had chores.

~4:45 pm~

The two hadn't been able to leave much earlier, just getting on their horses to head out. Kayce didn't mind leaving earlier, he'd thought they'd leave later but this way he figured he'd still be able to tuck Tate in with Monica.

They arrived at the shed and sure enough those noises were back, only this time there was a light seeping through the cracks of the old wood.

Not wanting to risk getting caught they tied their horses up further away to trees, walking through the overgrown grass lit up by the setting sun, it cast a golden glow over the already yellowing field.

There was definitely someone inside, someone doing something and clinking shit together. They drew their guns as they neared the door facing into the trees.

John kicked it open, whoever was in there jumped and dropped something. "Hey-hey! Who the hell're you?!" It was a man yelling from inside. "Show yourselves to me, you crazy fucks!" Kayce gave John a worried look.

John peered in and saw the guy, scrawny fellow, shaved head, it didn't seem to be by his own fruition with how choppy it was. His clothes were tattered and stained, eyes bugging, he was clearly on something; what, they weren't sure, but they couldn't risk anything.

Kayce took the first step in, gun aimed at the man just in case. John followed shortly after and looked around while Kayce kept the man against a wall, hands in the air defensively.

"Cooking meth, you're cooking meth on my land?!" John yelled, making his way over to the man in a few short strides, raising his fist and punching him square in the face and knocking him on his ass.

There was a second thud, it didn't come from Kayce or John, not even the addict. No, this one came a second later from somewhere else.

In the corner of the shed was a smaller closet, it had been used to keep shovels and such. It wasn't small but big wasn't a good word for it, not by a longshot.

"I'll deal with this, you check on that." John said to Kayce, taking the rope from his side and kneeling next to the man, getting him over to the broken down and chipped table in the middle of the room and tying him to it as tight as he could.

"Don't, it's nothing, nothing!" The man yelled, struggling against John's hold on him.

The door creaked open and Kayce froze at the sight. "You, uh, you're gonna wanna see this, dad."

John looked up at his son, trying to get a look from where he was but needing to stand up anyway. The tied man kept yelling and squirming, shaking the table as he did.

Kayce moved to the side to let John look. The room was small, still, it held a poorly made bed, really it was just the frame with a shitty pillow and ratty old blanket thrown over it; there wasn't even a window to cover up.

In the darkness he made out a figure, a small one. A person chained to the bed. They were on their knees, elbows resting on the wood and hands clasped in one another, lips moving subtly in a silent prayer.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..." John muttered. He knelt down, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle as it could be.

Your clothes, a shirt and cotton shorts, were browning with age, holes dug into them, blood littered over them, crusted into your shorts especially.

You finished your prayer and looked to him, keeping your gaze below his head and refusing to look any higher. You gave a small nod.

Kayce had gone back to the horses and returned with bolt cutters and handed them to his father. "We're gonna get you out of here, ok?" John said, rubbing your back. He reached for the chain wrapped around your ankle, hooking the cutters into one of the loops.

The feeling of him trying to get the chain off was more than you could bear, this room had been all you'd known for years, that chain had been around your ankle for years, rubbing on it and making your skin raw.

You swatted at John's hand, pushing him away and backing yourself into the corner across from the bed. Your breathing was heavy and you shook your head, this chain was keeping you here and still, you couldn't lose it.

John looked to Kayce who was chewing his cheek, thinking of ways to help.

The son took the cutters from his dad and moved to kneel in front of you. "I'm not gonna hurt you, alright? I just want to help, I can't do that with this thing." He said. Kayce was much gentler than John, his voice not as gruff and warmer. He looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled state and seeing how panicked you were. "Can you tell me your name?" He asked, not bothering to make you look at him, it was the least of his concerns right now.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap. You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

Kayce sighed. "Well, I'm Kayce Dutton, I live on this farm land with my family... we- my dad and I” he said, gesturing back to John, “want to take you there, we can get you food and a change of clothes... a proper bed to sleep in."

"They're lying! They're liars, don't listen to them!" The addict yelled. John groaned and went to him, tying the rope tighter around him. You couldn't hear what John was saying and you were too panicked to care.

"I am not lying, I can't promise you much more than my word, do you trust my word?" Kayce asked, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over the back of your palm in a soothing moment. You gave a small nod. "Alright now, I won't cut it all off, does that sound better?" You much preferred that compromise.

He didn't leave much, just keeping it around your ankle and then a few chains to keep a bit of extra weight, what you were used to, at least similar to it.

"Kayce, we gotta go." John said, peaking back into the room. "Now. Come on, let's go!" John hurried out, leaving you and Kayce alone.

"Can you walk?" You shook your head, Kayce exhaled with a nod. "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out to the horses, alright?" You paused a moment but there wasn't much time for him to wait for you, quickly wrapping his arms around you and carrying you out of the shed and to the horses where John was already waiting, horses untied and ready to go.

The sky above you, the trees and the grass, all of it was so familiar and new all at the same time. The cool chill of the night hitting your face and body, your skin so pale in comparison to everything else. For just a moment you were struck with this envious look, all of this had been waiting for you? Just a few feet away? But then it all came crashing down as it settled in you that you were outside, alone and vulnerable.

As soon as you reached the horses you started panicking again, yelling and screaming and reaching out for the shed again as the man called out for you as well. Kayce laid you on the horse and gave it a smack to get it going, John was on the other horse, holding the reins to Kayce's horse and moving while Kayce started running just behind you both.

He didn't get far before the shed caught far, exploding. Kayce was already far enough away and wasn't injured, no one was but the man holding you captive was definitely gone, a foot landing not far from you.

You screamed until your throat hurt, until nothing came out. Your eyes red and stinging from tears as you cried out, body shaking over the horse.

John slowed down and Kayce caught up with you, taking the reins of his horse back and leading it back to the farm. "Kayce, call 911, we need to stop the fire." John spoke, taking out his own phone.

The land was damp and frosted, chances are the fire wouldn't make it very far, besides, the houses were much too far for it to cause any real damage. Still, the fire was right on the tree's edge and they couldn't risk too much.

The phone rang in John's hand, all while you wailed in the background. "You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?"

~7:16 pm~

Rip had set up the spare room, there really wasn't much to set, the bed was made and it wasn't a particularly messy room, dusty, sure, but not messy.

There was a knock on his door and he went to answer it, opening it to find John with a more than distraught you under his arm. "I'll go get some of Beth's old clothes, get her in the shower, clean her up.” The older man ordered, gently pushing you towards Rip.

Rip was caught so off guard and just held you close to him for several minutes while John walked away, back down the hill to the main house. He looked down to you as you stared at the ground. Your hair was matted, face a mess, clothes… he didn’t even want to think about it so he just guided you to the bathroom and set you down on the floor while he ran the water in the tub, making sure it was nice and warm since you were shivering.

He glanced back at you, huddled in the corner, knees to your chest, tears rolling down your cheeks. “What’s yer name, kid?” He asked, keeping his voice gentle. You shivered and shook your head, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know what was going on, where you were. You were more than scared of this big, strange man, no matter how kind he seemed off the bat.

Rip sucked his teeth and nodded, understanding that this was something new for you. “I’m Rip… I’m a cowboy, you know what a cowboy is?” You shook your head again. “A cowboy is someone who protects the people around them… people like you, you understand?” You didn’t but you nodded anyway. “So, I’m not gonna hurt you, I’d never do that… and if anyone hurts you, you tell me, alright?” You nodded again.

Rip looked back to the water as the tub filled up. “What are you doing?” You asked, also looking to the tub as water poured out the faucet.

“I-I’m getting a bath ready for you.” He answered simply, raising a brow at your question. “You’ve had a bath before, right?” He looked you over, you didn’t look like you had.

“When-when I was younger…” You answered softly. “To wash away the day's filth is to wash away God’s path for you, your history.” You explained. Rip sighed, he wasn’t a very religious man but that sounded cultish to him, seeing your disheveled state…

“That’s not what God said, you know…” He said, hoping you’d look up at him but you didn’t. “If that’s what he really wanted he wouldn’t have made lakes and rivers for us to clean in… he would’ve made it harder to do that, would’ve put up a sign or something.” You thought about what he said. Nothing was changing overnight but after everything today you were at a loss, you couldn’t go back to the room you knew, all you had was Rip right now.

“Do you need help out of your clothes?” He asked, gesturing to you with a nod. You’ve heard those words before, not in that order, not in that tone, but you understood that much and shook your head.

You stood and pulled your shirt up over your head, Rip looked away to give you some privacy, as if he wasn’t about to wash you himself. You pulled your shorts off and tossed them aside to the corner before going to the sink, now Rip looked at you, confusion swirling in his eyes as you placed your hands on the edge of the sink, parting your legs and looking down into the sink.

Rip stared at you dumbfounded. Your clothes covered in blood and basically standing alone in the corner, it made sense now and he jumped to his feet, gathering you in his arms and bringing you over to the tub, carefully setting you down in the warm water. “You don’t ever have to do that again, you hear me?” He said, holding your mucky hair out of your face, turning your head to look at him. You closed your eyes, refusing to look at his face. “Can you look at me?” You shook your head. “What’s stopping you?” He let go of your face, letting you look back to the water turning brown around you.

You swirled your hand in the water, amused by its ripples. “He said you may not look man in the eyes for it disrespects him and taints your soul.” Rip exhaled sharply, staring at you a moment longer before reaching back to get a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink.

He rubbed soap into the cloth, letting it bubble in his hands before running it over your bruised and battered skin, listening to every hiss you let out from the scars it passed over and caught on. Your ribs and inner thighs were the worst of it, all it did was anger Rip more and more by the second.

“I’ve got no respect to lose, you can look at me.” He muttered, running the cloth down your arm. “Your soul… that’s something you can’t touch with your eyes.” You didn’t respond.

He continued to bathe you as you rested your chin on your knees, eyes slowly closing until you couldn’t keep them open any longer, you were used to sleeping in this position, your body accepting it as normal while Rip fought the urge to pull you closer to him.

He’d never felt this with someone before, other than Beth. He wasn’t speaking to Beth anymore, she left and made sure he knew she was done with him, tore his heart out and made him eat it.

He didn’t want to think of that right now, he wanted to help you, that was his focus, his only priority.

~7:45 pm~

Rip had been struggling with your hair for too long, he’d finally managed to get your body clean but your hair was beyond repair. A knotted, matted mess that just needed to be shaved off.

A knock came to the bathroom door and it creaked open and John stepped in, keeping his back to the bath as he held out a pile of clothes. "I got you somethin' to wear, just, uh, put these on when you're done" He said, looking down the hallway with a nervous look etched on his face. "I gotta go find Rip." He said lower.

Rip stopped trying to untangle your hair, it was only harder because you were asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He cleared his throat. "I'm right here, sir" He said softly. "She needed help."

John's head snapped to him before he quickly looked away again to avoid looking at you naked. "What the hell are you doing?! She's been locked up and used like a fucking doll, you don't know what she'll think of this!" Rip hung his head, he knew what John was talking about, seen it in the way you reacted sometimes, your clothes. "You're supposed to be keeping her safe, Rip."

Even with his harsh words and the deeper meaning behind them, it was hard to take him so seriously when he was scared to look into the bathroom. "I-I know, Sir, I was just helping... she needed it..."

John let out a heavy sigh. He set the clothes on the counter beside the sink. "Just finish up and get her into bed, not your bed. I wanna talk to you for a minute." He said, closing the door behind him and heading down the hall to the living room.

Rip let out a heavy sigh, very few times had he disappointed John, he hated it every time. However, he couldn't just get this done quick.

He looked to the counter and pulled out a drawer, looking into it and seeing his razor. It was the best thing for you.

He dried you off and got you dressed, doing his best not to wake up, which turned out to be easier than he’d thought it would be, you were just out and he kept checking your pulse.

He shaved your head, it was better than leaving that mess on your head, then he washed your scalp, being careful around the sores. He carried you to the guest room and tucked you in, running a hand over the fuzz that covered your head now.

John was waiting for him out in the living room, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He stared at Rip as he came down the hall. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Rip inhaled deeply as he took a seat on the other side of the couch. “I was thinking she needed help and I helped… I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” John grumbled. “Look, she seems content with you if she was able to sleep, you keep an eye on her.” He stood up and went to the door, stopping just short of it. “That’s all you keep on her, ya hear?” He stated, shooting him a look. Rip nodded and John left.

Rip stayed there a moment, thinking about… everything before eventually getting up and walking back to the guest room where you slept peacefully under the sheets.

He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand down the side of your face. “You’re too young for this.” He muttered to himself.

You began to stir, eyes slowly blinking open and you looked up at him. He stared back at you, your eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, tortured and innocent, there was a purity in them he’d never seen in anything.

“You’re looking at me.” He said, cupping your cheek in his rough, clean hand. His hand had probably never been this clean before in his life.

You brought your hand up to hold his against your face. “You’re pretty.” You mumbled, drawing a chuckle from him.

“Am I?” You nodded with a smile. He sighed and looked over you once more. “What’s your name?”

You hesitated a moment. “Three.” Rip paused.

He shook his head. “No, that’s not your name, that’s a number, I asked for your name.”

You stared up at him with a blank stare, blinking tiredly. “Three.” You repeated.

Rip stared, eyes flickering over your face, taking in your doe like features. “Is that the name he gave you?” You nodded, sitting up with a grunt, body aching. “I’m not calling you that.”

“That’s my name.” You stated firmly, Rip was surprised that you’d use a tone with him but he didn’t care, he wasn’t calling you a number.

For several moments you sat there, staring at each other. Rip brought his hand back to your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. He leaned in and closed the distance between you both, his lips on yours.

It was gentle and warm, passionate but not heated. Love was a complicated concept but you’d never felt it before, he hadn’t gotten ahold of it himself, still, he was determined to show you there were brighter sides to this world than what you’d seen.

A knock on the door reminded him of where he was, who was with, what was happening. He pulled away, seeing the way you were now looking at him; eyes wide, full of something new, something eager and curious.

The knock came again and he got up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said, giving you a last kiss. “Just lay down, darlin’.” You nodded with a smile as you moved down the bed.

He went to answer the door quickly, rushing to get it open so he could get back to you.

On the other side was Beth. He hadn’t seen her, nor wanted to see her, in so long, what felt like forever.

She was on him in an instant, arms around his neck, his own lifting her up as he carried her to his room. He knew he shouldn’t, that you were waiting for him.

It kept him up late after Beth was done with him, when she was sleeping next to him, using him for warmth, what else it was she’d use him for he couldn’t guess, there were too many options.

[smashedrose]

Cowboy Like Me (Pt. 2)

Authors Note: The next part is linked at the bottom! This is going to be a new series I will eventually move to Wattpad. I do not condone or support cheating this is purely fiction.

Warnings: Cheating, angst, mentions of sexual situations, mentions of blackmail, and violence. (No smut in this part but stay tuned for part three!)

Summary: Kayce comes to terms with what just happened and Y/N discovers his marriage and is conflicted. Should she continue or should she do what Beth says to prevent her from telling everyone?

———————————————————————

I stare in shock at the man laying over me, confused and ashamed that we got caught. I hadn’t even been there a day and I’m already hooking up with one of the cowboys, or at least I hope he’s just a cowboy and not one of the sons.

He gets off me in an instant and rushes to put on his jeans, throwing me mine and making a silent motion over his mouth with his finger. I nod and slip on my jeans, heart pounding as he goes to creak the door open, his body shielding the woman’s gaze from me.

“What makes you think i’m with Rip’s cousin?” I hear Kayce ask, making the woman laugh. “Well unless we happened to pick up that stripper Rip’s been wanting that would mean you’re either with me or with baby Wheeler. And I may be a mean son of a bitch but incest just ain’t my thing.” She says.

They’re related? I think to myself, mind whirling with questions about who I just slept with. And I know Rip would flip but who’s Monica and why would she also have the same reaction?

I shake the thoughts away and make my way to the door, laying a hand on his back letting him know it’s okay that she sees me. She looks me up and down and smiles to herself “Damn. Y’all’s family must’ve won the fucking gene lottery.”

I let out an awkward laugh and shuffle a bit, nervous about what i’m going to ask. “Can you please not tell him? We just met again after years apart and I don’t want him to think of me as some whore. I’ll do anything name your price.”

She seems thoughtful for a moment and I can see her mind brewing with ideas before she widens her eyes and smiles. “I’ll tell ya what, I won’t tell Rip OR Monica.” She glances at Kayce who’s looking at his shoes, wanting to be anywhere but here “But you little lady are going to help me with something. I can use those good looks of yours for a little business venture.”

“What the he’ll do you mean Beth she just got here don’t get her involved with-“ Kayce starts but is cut short when the woman, apparently called Beth, rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Don’t worry, it’s not anything that has to do with the ranch. Just a little favor for good old Daddy.”

“Beth I swear to god if you use her as a pawn for you’re fucking feud with Jenkins i’ll kill ya.” Kayce replies, catching onto whatever she is wanting me to do. I’m left confused and standing to the side, still trying to piece together what just happened.

“So what do you say little lady? Gonna accept or do you wanna be known as the fuck toy for your stay?” She states, wearing a smile as if knowing what i’m about to say. “Fine I’ll do it. But don’t you dare tell rip or whoever the fuck Monica is.”

———————————————————————

Apparently, what I agreed to was far less that what I was expecting. Beth led me to the main house and I stop in my tracks, piecing together the fact that she’s THE Beth Dutton.

I stare at her with my mouth open and quickly close it, before asking the question that I knew the answer to. “So, um Kayce is a Dutton?” I mumbled, looking down at my boots as we step onto the front porch. “You got a lot to learn around here but yes. I’m assuming you know who I am then?”

“Yeah, kinda figured it out considering I was told not to enter this house unless invited.”

“Who the fuck told ya that?”

“Rip.” I state and with that she smirks before turning towards me. “Well you can tell your dear cousin that the same rules apply to him. Never seen him follow that damn rule in my life.”

I nod and make my way inside, taken aback by the decor. Growing up, we never had much money so walking into this place felt like walking into a palace. Glancing around, I follow her down a hall before asking more questions about what she wants from me.

“So i’m just gonna seduce him? Isn’t he married?” I ask, while entering the bedroom door. “Yeah and you obviously don’t got an issue with that considering Kayce.”

“Wait- What?! He’s married?” I am wide eyed and my heart comes to a stop, realizing that Monica is his wife. “He didn’t tell ya? What a shame, I thought I was beginning to like you.”

“You liked me more when you thought I was a home wrecker?”

“Honestly yeah, never liked Monica and had been waiting on my little brother to do this. Hell, him not being able to keep his dick in his pants is what got him married in the first place.”

I’m in a state of shock, alcohol still in my system and I can’t help but laugh. Not out of joy of course but more out of shock that I’m in this situation in the first place. She shakes her head and smiles before heading to a wardrobe, pulling out a silk dress and heels.

“Alright Y/N, put this on and we’ll be on our way.”

I stare at the sage green dress and tan heels, admiring the way it glistened in the light. “Are you sure? If anything happens to this there’s no way that i can aff-“ I’m cut off by her.

“Don’t worry about that, think of it as a welcoming gift for my dear brothers mistress. God knows I’ve been waiting for it.” And my heart drops again at her name for me. Mistress. I just came here for work experience, not to be thrown into a fucking affair. I make a mental note to talk to Kayce after this and figure out what he really wants.

Besides, if Monica doesn’t find out what do I have to lose? I’ll be out of here in a few weeks and back at college, never seeing him again.

———————————————————————

Beth leads me into the hotel bar before coming to a stop near an older man with grey hair. His eyes seem to devour me and I discreetly shift, uncomfortable at the situation I put myself in.

“Well Dan, what a surprise running into you here.” Beth says, coming to sit down next to him. I take that as my cue to sit down next to him and lean over the bar, trying to get this done with as fast as possible.

“You’re not gonna introduce me to your friend?” He says, eyes still on me with a twinkle in his eyes. Fucking disgusting why did I agree to this, hell why did I agree to come to the ranch in the first place. My thoughts are interrupted by beth’s laugh and her words.

“This is Y/N, she’s a wrangler and what I would like to call a family friend.”

If that isn’t the biggest lie i’ve heard all night then I don’t know what is.

“Well Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, how did the Yellowstone come to find you? I thought y’all only had murderous cowboys and land hungry old men.”

“Like you?” I hear beth say, sending a silent glare at me to not give any information about myself. Jenkins, or Dan as Beth calls him, rolls his eyes and faces her.

“And what do you want? You ruined my fucking marriage. You befriended my wife. What else could you possibly want from me?”

She smirks and grabs his face, running her nails over his skin. “Wanna come home with me and my friend? I can promise you, we’ll make it worth your while.”

She had already told me of her plan so I wasn’t taken aback, but the reality set in when she said those words. Was I really about to lead a man I barely know to his own death because I slept with a married man?

———————————————————————

I step out of the car, shaking. I knew what was coming, someone would come up behind him and drag him off to who knows where to do god knows what to him. Breathing in the cool air, I hear him step out and the sound of feet running towards him.

Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around my waist and pray for this moment to be over. I hear screams and the sound of horses leading him away, and I shakily look at my feet.

A pair of boots are in front of me and I hesitantly look up, coming face to face with Rip.

“What the hell Beth. She doesn’t wear the brand why the fuck would you get Y/N involved in this?” He angrily asks, storming towards her and grabbing her arms.

“Met her tonight and figured I could use her. Relax, nothing happened to her.”

“Then why the fuck does she have those marks on her neck? Huh? You used my cousin as a fucking prostitute.”

Beth just laughs at this and winks at me, as if to say my secret is safe with her. I almost believe her until I hear “Trust me, Jenkins isn’t the one that marked up that pretty little neck.”

———————————————————————

Part Three…

[happys-crazy-queen22]

Ranch Hands Mistake

Gif credit @bodybebangin

Requested @mypridefulsoul27. I hope you like it. Thanks for the request.

Taglist: @ackles-nhl. @cbouvier23.

"Where are you going with that lemonade, sugar"? John Dutton asked his youngest daughter.

"They seem thirsty, daddy. Just wanted to help". You smirked, putting the tray down so your father could get a glass.

"Thank you". John chuckled and went back to his files.

Swaying your hips and putting a pop in your step as you walked to the fence.

"Thirsty fellas"? A wide smile on your face as the ranch hands came over chatting and arguing about something.

"Thanks, Miss Y/N". Lloyd tipped his hat taking a glass.

"Not a problem. I'm happy to help out. Especially when it's a hot day like today". You fan yourself, you were wearing a white tank top and shorts, which was appropriate for the weather but not in front of wondering eyes.

"You look really good today, Y/N". Ryan whispered as he leaned against the fence.

"Thank you". You giggled when Ryan was talking to you and Lloyd stood behind him.

"Boy, get your shit and get to work. Now damn it". Lloyd ordered.

"See ya". Ryan winked and sipped his lemonade. Lloyd shook his head and followed.

"Bye boys". You waved and skipped back to the house. You kinda enjoyed teasing the ranch hands. But the real one you loved teasing was Ryan. You both may have developed feelings for each other over the summer. But know one knew and no one could.

"Did you do your chores"? Your father asked as you got back on the porch.

You stayed quiet. "Now, darlin. Get your chores done". John snickered. You were his youngest so he went easy on you with things.

"Okay daddy". You groaned and put the tray down and ran off to tend to your horse.

"Hey baby boy, how's mommas baby today"? You cooed over your black and white horse. He was big and strong. He loved you like you loved him. He was more of a family member then a animal.

"I wish you would talk to me like that". Ryan teased, coming closer.

"You want me to be your mommy? I think I'm to young for that". You giggled when Ryan wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled his bearded chin into your neck.

"I can be your daddy"? Ryan kissed along your jaw line.

"I have one of those. Dont need another. But what I do need is a quick fuck. You up for it"? You turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Ryan growled and attacked your neck with kisses. Letting out a squeal, Ryan picked you up and backed you up against the stall door.

"Seems like someone is". You moan, running your hand down to Ryan's jeans and cupped his growing cock over his jeans.

Ryan let out a hardy laugh. "I'm always up for a taste of you". Ryan kissed and sucked down your chest. There will definitely be hickeys there later.

"Mmmm baby". Your hands went to his hair, tugging at it.

"You like that, babycakes"? Ryan mumbled against your skin.

"Her daddy wouldn't like it, sugar dumpling". Lloyd's sarcastic voice boomed as he stood there at the stall door.

"Fuck me". Ryan turned his head. You covered your mouth with your hand as you giggled.

"You're dead, boy. You are a dead man standing. Now get out". Lloyd ordered. Ryan kissed your forehead and put you down. He lowered his head and walked away.

"You're not going to tell daddy are you"? You asked biting your lip.

"No but I dont have three older brothers that saw Ryan leave and heard me yelling". Lloyd chuckled and walked away. You gasped and ran after Ryan.

You were half way to the ranch hands bunk house when you saw your brothers in a circle, Rip along with them.

"Ryan"! You yelled out cause you knew they were beating the shit out of him.

Panting as you pushed Kayce out of the way. You looked down and saw Ryan polishing their boots.

"What the hell? What are you doing"? You looked at all of them and then to Ryan.

"Apparently this is my punishment for liking their sister. Which is okay, I guess". Ryan hand his toothbrush rubbing Lee's boot.

"We have a maid's outfit as well when he does dad's boots. That's going to be hilarious". Kayce piper in with a laugh.

"Y'all are morons. I thought you were killing him".

"No, why kill someone that works hard and does it for shit pay"? Rip snickered. 

"I hate all of you right now. Ryan, come on". You held out your hand for him to take but he was hesitant.

"They have guns. I think I'll stick it out for now". He went back to shoe shining.

"Fine". You groaned going to the main house. John was sitting on the porch in his rocking chair.

"You okay"?

"Yeah, they just have Ryan shining their boots".

"I know. He should be strung up and hang for messing around with you but they like him and the weird thing about it is he makes you happy".

"You knew"?

John laughed shaking his head up and down. "Nothing gets passed me on my ranch. Plus, I've seen Ryan sneaking in and out of the house. Rip has seen it as well. Like I said nothing gets passed me".

"Y'all just love to play with me, don't you"?

"You're the youngest. You get shit. But I would've been okay if you asked".

"Can I date him"?

"Sure".

"Thank you, daddy". You kissed his forehead and sat down beside him a smile on your lips.

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Thirty-Five

Some smutty goodness with some other stuff thrown in.

Months had gone by, I kept waiting for the guilt to creep in, for some part of me to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and shaking over what I’d done. But it never came. Maybe the old me would’ve lost sleep over it. Maybe she would’ve prayed for forgiveness or tried to drown the weight of it in a bottle. But I wasn’t that girl anymore.

I’d seen too much. Done too much.

It didn’t feel like murder—it felt like survival. Like cutting away a tumor before it could spread.

The only thing that nagged at me, that gnawed at the edges of my peace, was Ryan.

I hadn’t told him.

Not because I was afraid of what he’d say. Ryan wasn’t naïve. He knew what kind of world we lived in. He knew the lines we sometimes had to cross to keep our family safe.

But I wasn’t ready to see it in his eyes—that shift, that moment where I stopped being just his girl and became something else. Something darker.

That sparkle in his eye when he looked at me—that soft, easy love—I didn’t want to lose that.

So I kept it to myself.

The energy in the room was electric—staffers, family, and longtime supporters clapping each other on the back, glasses raised in celebration. Dad’s opponent had just called, conceding the race, and now all that was left was the speech. The one that would solidify it, make it real.

John Dutton, Governor of Montana.

I stood back from the crowd, watching as Dad buttoned his jacket, taking a steadying breath before stepping in front of the cameras. He wasn’t a politician. He never wanted to be. But he did what had to be done, like always.

The room erupted in cheers, voices thick with pride and relief. I clapped too, because despite everything, I was proud. He was my father. And if anyone could hold the line against the vultures circling our land, it was him.

I just hoped it would be enough.

I knew better, though. Knew this fight was bigger than one election, one victory. The land developers, the politicians, the men with deep pockets and deeper grudges—they wouldn’t just disappear.

But for tonight, I let myself hope.

I watched Jamie walk out onto the stage to introduce our father as the new governor. Cheers from the crowd erupted as he spoke.

“Well, the future of Montana is here,” he started, “The future of Montana is a fifth-generation rancher whose family moved here six years before Montana became a state. It is fitting that a founding member of this state a century later now leads it. And defending you in Washington is another fifth-generation rancher who has served Montana in the House of Representatives and two terms as our governor. Allow me the opportunity to introduce you to your  next Governor John Dutton and US Senator Lynelle Perry.”  

 The crowd erupted into louder cheers as Dad and Senator Perry stepped onto the stage together, both of them radiating the kind of quiet authority that made the room feel even bigger. Dad's stride was confident, his jaw set in that way that always meant business. Senator Perry, tall and regal, was right beside him, her hand raised in greeting as the crowd went wild.

Jamie was already stepping back into the wings, nodding to Dad as they passed each other. I caught the fleeting look they shared—something like understanding, but also distance. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but it wasn’t the kind of look that spoke to the bond most fathers and sons had.

The applause kept going, deafening in the packed room, but for a second, it all felt distant. My mind was still on the edge of what I knew we were facing. I had to hope, but I also had to brace for what came next. The land wars, the deals made behind closed doors, the pressure from all sides. We’d already fought so hard, but now, with Dad in office, the fight was only just beginning.

Dad stepped up to the podium, his face hardening as he looked out over the crowd. He didn’t need to speak right away, the silence in the room was enough to draw everyone’s attention.

I stood by my brother on the stage, a smile plastered on my face. A show of support even though it was hollow, but we would give it.  

"Thank you," he began, his voice cutting through the noise, “The open bar was my daughters' idea. I see it worked. We have a lot of work to do. And a log of work to undo. The question we all have to answer, is what will Montana look like in 100 years? Right now, we are seen as the rich man’s plaything. We are New York’s novelty and California’s toy. Not anymore. You’ve elected me to be a steward of this state, of its land and its people, and that’s what I’ll be. Protecting you now is how Montana still looks like Montana when none of here tonight are here to see it. Thank you.”

My father gave a wave to his constituents and stepped aside for Senator Perry to give a speech. 

“How do you follow that?” she said with a smile, “I don’t know. Um…ditto. The wars that Montana faces here at home, those will be my wars in Washington.” 

Once the speeches ended and the crowd began to disperse, I watched Jamie make his way to the back, probably to shake hands with whoever needed it, to make the rounds. But for all his posturing, I knew the real work was coming. And none of us were prepared for it.

I turned to watch my father, his back straight, his face stoic as he was surrounded by a sea of congratulatory handshakes and back pats. I could see the burden already settling on his shoulders, the weight of what it meant to actually lead. To make decisions that would affect thousands of lives.

But it wasn’t just his burden anymore. It was all of ours.

—---------------

I rolled over in my bed, finding the warmth of Ryan lying beside me. I pressed my lips to his neck. 

“What are you doing, baby?” Ryan’s voice was thick with sleep, the words rumbling low in his chest as I pressed my lips to the warmth of his neck. My fingers danced over his skin, trailing down his chest beneath the blanket, searching, teasing.

“Just trying to have my way with you,” I murmured, my breath hot against his flesh. My hand slipped inside his boxers, and he groaned softly, his body tensing for a moment before relaxing into my touch.

“You came in late last night,” he said, his breath hitching as I wrapped my fingers around him, stroking slowly, deliberately. His voice was still heavy with sleep, but there was a hint of something else there too—arousal, curiosity, maybe even a little amusement.

“That’s why I waited until the morning,” I told him, my lips brushing against his ear as I spoke. My fingers moved with purpose, my touch firm but gentle, coaxing him awake in the best possible way.

Ryan’s hand reached up to tangle in my hair, pulling me closer as he turned his head to meet my lips with his. The kiss was slow, languid, but there was a heat building between us, a fire that had been smoldering all night and was now threatening to burst into flames.

I could feel him growing harder in my hand, his body responding to my touch in a way that made my own desire flare. I broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, dark and heavy with need.

“Good morning,” I whispered, a smile playing on my lips as I leaned in to kiss him again.

He laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. “Good morning,” he said, his voice rough with desire.

The sun was barely up, the soft light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over the room. The sheets were tangled around us, the air thick with the scent of sleep and us. It was a perfect moment, one of those rare, stolen bits of time where the world outside ceased to exist, and it was just the two of us, lost in each other.

I shifted, moving to straddle him, the blanket slipping down to pool around my waist. His hands rested on my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me closer, grinding me against him. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I let out a quiet moan, my head falling back as I rocked against him.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, his hands sliding up my sides, his thumbs brushing against the underside of my breasts.

“You love it,” I shot back, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him again. His lips were warm, soft, and I could taste the sleep still clinging to them, mixing with the heat of his desire.

He chuckled again, the sound vibrating against my lips. “I do,” he admitted, his hands moving to cup my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples through the thin fabric of my shirt.

I arched into his touch, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure shot through me. My hands moved to his chest, sliding over his skin, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.

I could feel him beneath me, hard and hot, and I reached down to free him from the confines of his boxers. He groaned as my hand wrapped around him again, my fingers moving in a slow, steady rhythm that had him thrusting up into my grip.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow as I inched down to take him into my mouth.

The taste of him exploded on my tongue, salty and sweet, and I moaned around him, the vibration earning me another groan from deep in his chest. His hands tightened in my hair, holding me in place as he thrust up into my mouth, his hips moving in time with my rhythm.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the edge, his body tensing beneath me as he came, his release spilling into my mouth. I swallowed, licking my lips as I pulled back to look up at him, a satisfied smile on my face.

“Good morning,” he said again, his voice rough and breathless as he reached down to pull me up for another kiss.

"Baby, I love the way you wake me up," Ryan’s voice was a rough murmur against my lips, his breath hot and unsteady as his hands gripped the sides of my body, pulling me under him. The weight of him pressed me into the bed, his chest rising and falling with the same raw hunger that burned in his eyes.

I lifted my hips, desperate, as he shoved my panties down my legs in one swift move, the roughness of his hands leaving a trail of heat. His body pressed against mine, and in an instant, he was inside me—hard and deep, the feeling of him filling me, pushing me further into the bed beneath us.

My legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, urging him on as he drove into me, relentless, the force of each thrust making my breath catch in my throat. His hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he moved with a brutal intensity that had me losing myself to him. Every inch of him inside me, every push, made the world around us blur and fade away.

I dug my nails into his shoulders, the pressure coiling tight in the pit of my stomach, a wave of need building that I couldn’t control. I was on the edge, trembling with the urge to break apart. My legs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper as my walls pulsed around him, the sensation overwhelming. I bit my lip, desperate to quiet the moans that wanted to spill out, but it was getting harder to hold back.

“I want to hear you, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He shifted his hips, rolling them just enough to change the angle, and suddenly he was hitting that spot deep inside me. My body jerked, and the pressure inside me shattered.

“Ryan,” I gasped, the tremors coursing through me, my body trembling violently as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

His pace quickened, chasing his own release now, his body tightening with each thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his movements erratic as he finally found his release, his body shuddering above mine.

“Good morning,” I murmured again, my voice breathless, still reeling from the aftermath. My legs were tangled with his, our bodies pressed close together as I tried to steady my breath, the weight of him beside me grounding me.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, as he rolled to his back, pulling me tightly to his side. His arm wrapped around me, his hand resting against the small of my back, holding me close. “You sure know how to make it a good morning.”

His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, and I felt the lingering warmth of him against me, the quiet satisfaction of being wrapped up in the aftermath of everything we’d shared. There was a sense of calm now, a contrast to the storm that had come before, and I couldn’t help but smile softly, my head resting on his shoulder.

“My dad’s thing is in a couple hours,” I told him, my voice still a little breathless, the remnants of our time together lingering. “Beth wants me to put on a show. Wow the crowd while they celebrate his victory.”

Ryan’s chest rose and fell slowly as he processed the information, still catching his breath. He glanced over at me, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I suppose we should get the day started.”

I could feel the weight of the day pressing on me already. It wasn’t just another event—it was a spectacle, a performance. It was a party to celebrate my dad’s victory, and I was glad to be a part of it, to contribute to his success. And, truthfully, I was proud of the work I’d done with Maverick and Goose—two of the best horses I’d ever trained. But that wasn’t what Beth wanted.

Beth wanted a spectacle. She didn’t want just a display of skill; she wanted something flashy, something that would steal the spotlight and leave everyone talking. She wanted me to wow them, to be the star of the show, to perform for their entertainment.

I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. I didn’t mind the attention in certain moments, but this felt different. I didn’t want to be a puppet for their entertainment. I just wanted to show off the horses, to let them shine, but that wasn’t the kind of show Beth had in mind.

After a quick shower, I threw on a pair of yoga pants and a sports top, wanting to get in a last bit of training before the event. The ranch was already buzzing with activity, people setting up for the festivities later, but I needed to focus, to get in the zone for the horses.

Ryan and I walked out to the barn together, the cool morning air biting at my skin as we made our way through the growing crowd. His gaze swept over me, lingering with that signature smirk that made my pulse quicken.

“How am I supposed to go to work with you looking like that?” he teased, his eyes raking over me.

I shot him a playful look, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’m sure you’ll find a way,” I replied, keeping my voice light as I stepped into Maverick and Goose’s stall to saddle them up for practice.

The two of them were inseparable, their bond so strong that if I tried to put them in separate stalls, they’d bang the walls with such force that it would only be a matter of time before they found each other again. They were like that—always drawn to one another, never wanting to be apart.

I ran my hands over their coats, feeling the warmth of them, the trust between us. I was ready to show off what we’d been working on, but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this day wasn’t going to go quite how I wanted.

I clipped their bits together and grabbed their reins, leading Maverick and Goose out into the arena. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the dusty ground as the ranch came to life around us.

“Jesus Christ,” Rip’s voice rang out from atop his horse, his eyes scanning the chaos as people bustled about preparing for the event. “Can you believe this fucking shit show?”

I shot him a knowing glance as I kept walking. “It’s only for today. I know how much you hate people.”

Rip snorted, his tone dry as ever. “I only hate most people.” He shifted in his saddle, his gaze narrowing as he took in the crew. “And we got calves on the ground.” He turned his horse to face the rest of the hands, his voice sharp and commanding. “You see a coyote prowling our calves, I want you to shoot it. You see a wolf, you shoot it too. You see a bear, I want you to try and haze it off. But if he’s on a carcass, we call it in. Take a picture of it with your phone.”

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “Have fun being cowboys,” I called after them as they rode off, the tension already thick in the air.

Turning back to Maverick and Goose, I tugged them into the arena, ready to focus on the task at hand. The noise of the ranch faded into the background as I guided them into a slow trot, allowing them to warm up. They moved in perfect sync, their bodies flowing together like they’d been born to do this.

“That’s it, boys,” I murmured, encouraging them as we circled the arena. Then, with a quick shift, I made a run to grab one of their saddle horns and swung up onto Maverick’s back.

The pace picked up immediately, the horses responding to the shift in my weight as I balanced, standing tall on Maverick’s back. “Good boy,” I muttered under my breath as we rounded the corral again, the rhythm of their movements beneath me making me feel connected to their power, to the bond we shared.

With each step, they responded to me. My feet settled on each of their backs as I stood tall, one hand gripping the reins, the other raised high in the air, my balance flawless. I felt their steady pace, their awareness of my every shift, every movement. Together, we were unstoppable.

I stood tall as Maverick and Goose approached the first jump, their muscles coiling with anticipation. I clicked my tongue, and they leaped over it in perfect harmony, the fluidity of their movements a testament to the work we’d put in together.

“Alex!” My sister’s voice cut through the air, and I felt a slight shift in my balance, but I kept steady, the rhythm of the horses keeping me grounded. I slipped down into a seated position on Goose’s back before ushering them to a stop, turning to face her.

“What do you need, Beth?” I asked, my voice cool but laced with the edge of the frustration I couldn’t quite hide. Over the past few months, it had felt like she’d been tormenting me more than usual. It wasn’t just the normal older sister teasing—it was deeper, more personal. She was punishing me for helping Jamie, for standing up for him when no one else would.

She smirked, the same way she always did when she had something up her sleeve. “I got your costume ready for the party tonight,” she said, holding up a garment bag like it was some kind of prize.

I raised an eyebrow. “I already picked out what I was wearing.”

Beth’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Let’s just say I made a few modifications to it.”

I dismounted from the horses, my feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. As I walked over to her, she lowered the zipper on the bag, revealing the costume inside. It was sheer nude fabric, glitter and rhinestones scattered across it in strategic places—just enough to cover the parts that couldn’t be shown in public.

I stared at it for a moment, trying to process what I was seeing. “I can’t wear that to ride,” I told her, the disbelief in my voice sharp. “It’ll look like I’m riding around naked. I’m not doing a Lady Godiva show.”

Beth’s smirk never wavered, but I saw the challenge in her eyes. She was daring me to refuse, daring me to fight her on this. But there was no way I was going to let her pull this stunt.

“If I wear this,” I told her evenly, “it won’t just be embarrassing for me. It’ll be embarrassing for Dad too.”

Beth’s smirk flickered, but only for a second before she tossed the costume to the ground like it was worthless. “Fine,” she sneered. “I’ll just have to tell Daddy what you did.”

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t waver. I just looked at her, meeting her challenge head-on.

“I don’t care anymore,” I said, my voice steady, unwavering. “Tell him.”

Beth’s expression shifted, her bravado faltering, but I pressed on. My voice softened, but the weight of my words hung heavy between us.

“Tell him I killed the man who tried to ruin this family. The man who tried to kill him. Who tried to kill you.” I took a slow step closer, my gaze locked onto hers. “See how disappointed he’ll be in me.”

The air between us crackled, thick with everything unspoken. I could see the war in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell with restrained emotion. But she didn’t say a word.

Because she knew the truth just as well as I did.

I made it to the bunkhouse just in time to watch Dad on the television, standing tall as he was sworn in. It should’ve been a proud moment, something I got to witness firsthand. But Beth had made sure I wasn’t there. Another calculated move to push me aside.

I wanted to be there—to stand with him, to support him like a daughter should. But I also knew Beth. Knew the game she was playing. If I’d shown up anyway, it would’ve caused a scene. And that was the last thing Dad needed today.

So I stayed behind, watching from a distance as my father stepped into his new role. It should’ve felt like a victory. Instead, it just felt like another reminder that, in Beth’s eyes, I didn’t belong.

The guys were gathered behind me, playing cards, their laughter and occasional curses filling the bunkhouse.

“Hey, Alex,” Teeter called over, “how dressy is this deal?”

“It’s a party for the fucking Governor,” Ryan quipped, not even looking up from his hand. “I’d say it’s pretty fucking dressy. But since you don’t own any dresses, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Screw you,” Teeter shot back. “I have dresses.”

Ryan finally looked up, eyebrows raised. “You have dresses?”

“I got dresses.”

Colby snorted. “You have dresses?”

Teeter rolled her eyes. “Is there a fucking echo in here? Tell ‘em, Alex.”

I smirked. “Every woman has at least three. Even girls like us who don’t wear them.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, still skeptical. “Explain this to me, ‘cause I’ve only ever seen you in one.”

I held up a finger. “We’ve got the dress we wear to formal occasions.”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one I saw.”

I held up another. “Then there’s the one for church.”

“And the third?” Colby asked.

I grinned. “The fuck-me dress.”

Colby blinked. “The what now?”

“The fuck-me dress,” I repeated.

“And what exactly is a fuck-me dress?” he asked, half-laughing.

I shrugged. “It’s the one you wear with your fuck-me shoes.”

“Gee, glad you cleared that up,” he chuckled.

I leaned forward, lowering my voice just enough to make them hang on to every word. “It’s the one you wear when you don’t plan on wearing it very long.”

The table erupted into laughter, Colby shaking his head as Ryan smirked.

Teeter just grinned. “See? Told y’all.”

“Hey, Teeter,” Walker drawled, shuffling his cards. “Jake’s got dresses too if you need to borrow one.”

Jake nearly choked. “The hell, man? What’re you messing with me for?”

Lloyd let out a rough laugh. “I’d love to see the dress Jake could fit into.”

“It’d be the size of a damn bed sheet,” Teeter added, grinning. The table erupted in laughter.

I smirked. “Just remember, Jake—this ain’t a fuck-me dress kind of party.”

Jake threw up his hands. “Why the hell is everyone on my ass?”

Walker grinned. “Ah, hell, Jake, something frilly might suit you.”

“Maybe a little lace,” Ethan added, chuckling.

Jake shot him a glare. “What the hell are you laughing at?” He nudged Ethan hard enough to jostle his drink.

Before Ethan could answer, Rip’s voice sliced through the noise like a whip.

“I don’t need you all drunk. This party ain't for you. Ethan, you wanna tell me what’s so fucking funny?”

Ethan barely hesitated. “Jake’s picking out his dress for tonight.”

Rip’s eyes narrowed. “Do what?”

Teeter, straight-faced as ever, nodded. “He wants to wear a dress, sir.”

Rip exhaled sharply, looking at Jake like he was the dumbest son of a bitch alive. “You got a bet to settle, you settle it somewhere else. You put on a fucking dress, and I’ll hang you in it.”

Jake threw up his hands. “I ain’t wearing no damn dress!”

Rip’s glare swept over all of us. “Just behave, all of you. And don’t be an idiot. Get your show shirts on. Let’s go. Get your shit together.”

The laughter died down as chairs scraped back and boots hit the floor. Jake grumbled under his breath, but he wasn’t dumb enough to push his luck. Not with Rip.

“Now y’all got me in trouble,” Jake muttered.

I ignored him, heading to the bathroom to change. The outfit I picked was showy, but not in the way Beth wanted. Snug, stretchy jeans lined with fringe, paired with a matching top. The Yellowstone logo shimmered in glitter across the fabric—flashy but respectable.

Beth wanted a spectacle. I’d give them a show—just on my own terms.

I ran through my routine with Denim, hanging off the side, flipping, balancing, pushing my body to the limit. The crowd gasped as I backflipped off his back, landing firm in the dirt. I threw up a wave, chest heaving, as Lloyd took Denim’s reins and Ryan led Maverick and Goose to the center of the arena.

A sharp click of my tongue sent them circling. Perfect sync—just like we practiced.

I took off running, grabbing onto Maverick’s saddle and hauling myself up in one fluid motion. My body moved on instinct, sliding onto Goose’s back, then back again. My heart pounded with the rhythm of their hooves, adrenaline buzzing through my veins as I rose to stand.

A nod to Lloyd and Ryan, and they set up the jump. Higher than we’d practiced. My pulse kicked harder, but it was too late to back down.

Focus. Trust.

I clicked my tongue.

Maverick and Goose surged forward, muscles coiling, launching us into the air. For a split second, we were weightless. Then the sharp crack of hooves hitting the top rail. The obstacle tumbled, but I didn’t flinch.

Acknowledge the mistake, and the rest of the performance would unravel.

Instead, I slid down onto Goose’s back, exhaling slow. “Good boys,” I whispered, running a hand over their damp coats. With a tug of the reins, I brought them to a stop, lifting my chin to the crowd.

The show wasn’t perfect. But it was mine.

I led them to the barn, still reeling with adrenaline. Trying to shake off the hiccup. I pat them down, made sure they were cooled off before loading their troughs with hay. 

“You were amazing out there,” Ryan’s voice cut through the noise in my head. 

“I fucked up,” I muttered, “I should have made sure y’all knew. I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, did you hear the crowd?” he asked as he slid his arms around my waist, “They are enamored by you.”

“I didn’t know you knew such big words, cowboy,” I smirked up at him. 

Ryan chuckled, tightening his hold around me. “I got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

I let out a breath, still feeling the weight of the mistake. “I should’ve been clearer about the height.”

He tilted my chin up, his eyes warm and steady. “You cleared the damn thing. That’s what they’ll remember.”

The roar of the crowd still echoed in my ears, a reminder that, perfect or not, I’d put on a hell of a show.

Ryan smirked. “Now, how ‘bout we celebrate your victory?”

I arched a brow. “What’d you have in mind?”

His grin turned wicked. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“I should probably make an appearance for my dad,” I said, glancing toward the crowd. “He is the governor, after all.”

Ryan laced his fingers with mine as we stepped out of the barn. The band played from the stage, the music blending with the hum of laughter and conversation. The ranch was packed, people gathered in celebration, drinks in hand.

We fell in line with the rest of the hands, all dressed in crisp, pressed show shirts.

“Much better than a dress,” I teased Jake with a smirk.

“Gosh damn,” he muttered, taking in the scene. “They ought to throw a party like this every year.”

Ryan chuckled. “Actually, Jake, they do. Every four years. When there’s a new governor.”

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me for not majoring in government studies.”

“Diesel Academy ain’t exactly a college,” Ryan drawled, he gave Jake a look.

Colby smirked, glancing at Jake. “The more you talk to him, the more he talks back. In case you haven’t caught on to the pattern yet.”

“They on your ass tonight,” Teeter chuckled, shaking her head.

I exhaled, straightening my shoulders. “I gotta go be a good daughter for once.” My gaze flicked toward the canopy where all the big shots were gathered, sipping whiskey and talking politics.

Ryan’s grip lingered on my fingers before I pulled away.

“Save me a dance, cowboy?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

He grinned, tipping his hat. “You’ve got all of ’em, baby,” he called after me.

I sucked in a breath, plastering on a smile as people crowded around, offering congratulations on my ride and praising how great my father was going to be for Montana. The compliments were kind, but I knew better. My dad wasn’t doing this for the state—he was doing it for the ranch. The power and influence would secure his legacy, keep the ranch safe, and line his pockets with more than just land.

But I kept my mouth shut. There was no point in sharing that tidbit with the crowd. Not now, not in front of the people who only saw what they wanted to see—the politician, the hero. I let them keep their illusions, nodding and smiling politely, letting the words wash over me.

I took my seat at the head table, trying to steady my nerves as Beth, Senator Perry, and Dad settled into their spots beside me. The noise of the event buzzed in the background, but for a moment, it all felt far away.

“You looked so graceful out there, Alex,” Lynell said with a warm smile, her eyes still gleaming from the performance. “Makes me miss riding.”

I flashed her a grin, leaning in slightly. “I could have the boys set up some barrels for you. The crowd would love it.”

Lynell laughed, shaking her head, her smile soft and genuine. “I’ll leave the riding to you, Alex. I didn’t bring a flashy outfit with me.”

I chuckled, glancing down at my own outfit. “I’m sure you could’ve pulled it off if you had.”

“Come on, Alex,” Beth said with that familiar, forced cheer, her hand already on my arm. “Let’s go wander.” I knew exactly what this was—my cue to step away. I’d been sitting at the grown-up table too long, and she didn’t want me talking to Dad or Jamie for too long without her watching over.

“Y’all aren’t gonna eat?” Dad asked, his voice tinged with that protective tone, not quite realizing what Beth was pulling.

“Not dressed like this,” she shot back, tugging me along after her with more force than necessary.

“Have a good night, Dad,” I said, trying to sound casual, but I couldn’t help the way the words felt tight in my throat.

I waited until we were out of earshot, then I muttered, “Let go of my fucking arm.”

Beth’s grip loosened, and she pulled her hand away like she’d been burned. “You need to stay away from them. I mean it.”

I stopped walking and turned to face her, my voice low but firm. “He’s my father, and Jamie’s my brother. And they’re going back to Helena in a few days. So you can have them all to yourself. To work on whatever little plot you’ve got brewing. I’m not your enemy. I never have been.”

Beth’s eyes flickered to Jamie, then back to me, her lips curling into a thin line. “When you chose to protect him,” she said, her voice sharp, “you decided which side of the fight you were on.”

“You’re fighting with yourself,” I said, my voice steady but laced with frustration. “Cause I’m not a part of it. I’m done. Just go and try to be happy. And let the rest of us find our happiness too.”

I turned away from her, not giving her a chance to respond. I wasn’t going to waste another moment on the twisted mess she kept trying to drag me into.

I leaned against the fence, watching the hands in the arena practice roping on each other. Ryan’s eyes met mine, and a smile tugged at his lips as he caught my gaze. Slowly, he started walking toward me, his boots kicking up the dust with each step.

“Nope,” I called out, crossing my arms. “I’m not going down in the dirt, cowboy.”

He didn’t skip a beat, his grin widening. “How about a dance then?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not sure if I’m ready to dance yet either.”

Ryan’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his voice playful. “What if I insist?”

“How do you plan on doing that?” I shot back, challenging him.

Without missing a beat, he swung his lasso expertly, the rope whipping through the air before landing neatly around my waist, pulling me closer to him in one smooth motion.

“Real smooth, cowboy,” I smirked, as he dropped the rope to the ground.

He placed one hand firmly on my hip and took my other hand in his, guiding me effortlessly into a two-step. We moved in sync, our feet gliding across the corral, the soft beat of the music from the party just a background hum to the rhythm between us.

His touch was warm and familiar, and I couldn’t help but smile as we swayed in the dusty arena. "Guess you're making me dance after all," I said softly, our movements flowing effortlessly as we lost ourselves in the moment.

“I’ll take any opportunity I can get to have you in my arms,” he murmured in my ear. 

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I played it off with a smirk. “Smooth talker,” I teased, though my voice betrayed me, a little softer than before.

Ryan’s grip on my waist tightened just slightly as he spun me in a slow circle, his movements effortless, like he was born knowing how to lead. “Just honest,” he said, his breath warm against my cheek.

The distant hum of laughter and music faded, the world shrinking down to the steady rhythm of our boots in the dirt. For the first time in a long time, I let myself relax into him, let myself forget about all the chaos waiting beyond this moment.

“Think you can handle another dance after this one?” he asked, dipping his head just enough so his words danced over my ear.

I exhaled a small laugh. “Guess that depends.”

“On what?”

“If you plan on using that rope again,” I teased.

His grin was slow, knowing. “Only if you run.”

“I’m not going anywhere cowboy,” I titled my head as I stepped up on my toes, lips pressing against his in a lingering kiss. 

Ryan didn’t hesitate. His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss, slow and steady, like he had all the time in the world. The dust swirled around our boots, the sounds of the party melting into the background.

When we finally broke apart, a lazy grin tugged at his lips. “Damn,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “If I’d known all it took was a lasso to get you in my arms like this, I’d have tried it sooner.”

I chuckled, my hands still gripping the front of his shirt. “Guess you’ll just have to keep finding reasons to rope me in.”

He tilted his head, considering. “I can think of a few.”

“Just as long as you remember,” I warned playfully, “I let you catch me.”

Ryan smirked, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”

—---------------------

I woke early, the sky still painted in soft hues of dawn, and made my way to the barn. I knew my father well enough to guess where he'd be—seeking a quiet moment with his horse before heading back to Helena, back to the chaos of being Governor. And for once, I knew Beth wouldn’t be there to stop me from talking to him.

I paused at the barn door, leaning against the frame as I watched him run a weathered hand down his horse’s nose. His shoulders, always strong, seemed heavier now, weighed down by responsibility. I hesitated, letting him have that last moment of peace before I said what I came to say.

"Morning, sweetheart," Dad said without turning, his voice low and steady.

"Morning, Dad," I replied, stepping inside. My boots scuffed against the dirt floor as I closed the distance between us. “I’m gonna miss seeing you here when you go.”

He sighed, nodding slowly. “Yeah… When I took over this ranch from your grandfather thirty years ago, I haven’t spent more than a few nights away from it since.” His fingers absently traced the bridle, lost in thought.

I watched him, taking in the lines on his face, the way he carried the weight of both our family and this land. “That’s gonna be hard for you,” I said softly.

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Hard don’t cover it.”

I nodded, understanding more than he probably realized. The ranch, the legacy, the sacrifices—it was in our blood. And now, it was changing.

I swallowed hard before speaking, my voice softer than I intended. “I want you to know—I’ll keep fighting for our family. All of our family. Here, while you’re fighting there.”

Dad turned then, really looking at me, his expression unreadable. His gaze was heavy, not with disappointment, but with the weight of a father who had seen too much and wished his children had seen less. “I know you will,” he said finally. His voice was rough, quieter than before. “I just wish I could’ve protected you and your brothers and your sister from the shit it takes to keep this place safe. That you didn’t have to do all the things you had to do.”

I nodded, pressing my lips together as I closed my eyes for a moment. Did he really know? Did he know how deep I was in it? How many lines I had crossed to protect this family, to keep the ranch standing? My chest felt tight as I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“It wasn’t Jamie,” I said finally, my voice steady as I met his gaze again.

His brow furrowed slightly. “What wasn’t Jamie?”

I took another breath, knowing once I said it, there was no taking it back. “That killed Randall.”

Dad didn’t move, didn’t so much as blink, but I knew him well enough to know the shift happening beneath the surface. So I kept going.

“I saw what killing that reporter did to him. What it cost him. And I knew he wouldn’t survive it—not this time. Even knowing what an evil sack of shit Randall was, Jamie couldn’t face that demon and still even be an echo of the brother I love.” I swallowed. “So I took that burden from him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, stretching between us like the weight of the confession I had just laid bare.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice carrying a kind of sorrow I hadn’t expected. “Taking a life, no matter how justified it may be, is never easy.”

I had braced myself for something else—for anger, disappointment, maybe even a lecture about what I had done. But none of that came. He didn’t yell, didn’t scold. He just looked at me with tired eyes, weighed down by the same burden I carried.

It wasn’t that he condoned it. It wasn’t that he was proud. He was just… sad. Sad that it had come to this. Sad that protecting our family meant blood on our hands. Sad that the place he built, the legacy he fought to keep, required sacrifices no one should have to make.

I had done what needed to be done. And he understood that better than anyone.

This scene has a great blend of nostalgia, warmth, and subtle humor. Here’s a refined and slightly expanded version to enhance the emotional beats and flow:

We didn’t say anything else—what else was there to say? Side by side, we walked out of the barn, letting the quiet settle between us. The weight of everything we’d done to protect this place, to protect our family, felt lighter as we stood there, looking out over the land. The first streaks of gold stretched across the sky, casting a warm glow over the eastern pasture. For all the blood, sweat, and sacrifice, moments like this made it feel worth it.

A voice, cracking slightly with lingering traces of adolescence, pulled us from our thoughts.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

I turned to see Carter standing a few steps away, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’d changed in the months Dad had been gone, lost the roundness in his face. He wasn’t a kid anymore—he was nearly as tall as my father, his frame leaner, his presence more sure of itself.

Dad stared at him for a long beat, then shook his head. “Jesus Christ, it really has been a while.”

Carter smirked. “You want me to saddle one?”

Dad let out a sigh, looking over the horses, his fingers twitching slightly—like he wanted to say yes. “I wish I had the time.”

“You’re the governor now,” Carter said, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yep,” Dad replied.

“The big man.”

“So they say,” Dad chuckled.

Carter’s smirk softened. “I miss our rides.”

A flicker of something passed over Dad’s face—regret, maybe, or just the weight of knowing how much time had slipped through his fingers. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter. “I miss ‘em too. We’ll do ‘em again.” Then, with a glance at me, he added, “Until then, Alex can ride with you.”

I smiled. “Anytime.”

Dad’s gaze lingered on Carter, something unreadable in his expression before he said, “And quit eating the fertilizer.”

Carter blinked. “Huh?”

“Quit growing,” Dad clarified.

“Why?”

“Because it freaks me out.” He shook his head, looking at the kid who wasn’t a kid anymore. “You’re a walking reminder of how much time I don’t have. If you grow a beard, you’re fired.”

Carter grinned. “No beards. Got it.”

We all laughed, the moment lightening as the sun inched higher in the sky. But beneath it all, I could still feel the unspoken truth hanging in the air—things were changing, faster than any of us could stop it.

I walked with my father toward his waiting ride, the sleek black SUV looking out of place against the backdrop of the ranch. It was a stark contrast to his old pickup, the one coated in dust and memories. This car, with its tinted windows and government plates, was another reminder of how much had changed.

The driver stepped forward, opening the door for him before giving me a polite nod. “Ma’am.”

I let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’ve grown up enough to be a ‘ma’am’ just yet.”

Dad turned back, his gaze heavy with something deeper than amusement. “I wish I could say that’s true.” He hesitated, his fingers tapping idly against the roof of the SUV. Then, with a half-smirk, he added, “Don’t you go getting married and having babies before I get back.”

I smiled, a warmth settling in my chest. “I’ll wait for you, Dad.”

For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes—pride, sorrow, maybe both. Then he exhaled, looking to his driver with reluctant acceptance. “Take me to Helena.”

Before the driver could close the door, Jamie’s voice cut through the morning air.

“Dad.”

I turned to see him striding toward us, his face tense.

“We need to go to Billings,” he said.

Dad frowned. “Why? What’s in Billings?”

Jamie’s jaw tightened. “Kayce.” He hesitated just long enough for my stomach to knot. “Monica was in an accident. She and the baby are there.”

The weight of those words settled over us like a thick fog. Dad didn’t say anything right away, but the shift in him was immediate—his back straightened, his hand dropping from the SUV door. In an instant, being the Governor didn’t matter. He was just a father again, a grandfather.

“Billings,” Dad said, his voice firm. “Now.”

The driver nodded, already moving. Jamie climbed in beside him, and I took a step back, watching the SUV pull away, dust swirling in its wake.

I let out a slow breath, my heart heavy with worry.

Some things, no matter how much time passed, never stopped feeling personal.

I climbed into my truck, falling into line behind the black SUV as we sped toward Billings. The road stretched ahead, long and uncertain, my fingers gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I got there.

The way Jamie had said it—it wasn’t going to be an easy road.

Monica and Kayce had just found out they were expecting again not too long ago. I did the math in my head as I drove. She was at least three weeks early. Too early.

By the time we pulled up to the hospital, my chest was tight. I followed my father inside, Jamie at my side, stepping into the cool, sterile air of the waiting room. And then I saw him.

Tate sat in a chair outside the hospital room, his small frame somehow looking bigger, older than I remembered. The boyishness in his face had thinned, replaced by something I didn’t want to name. His shirt was cut up the sleeve, and his arm was wrapped in a cast.

I hesitated for only a second before sinking into the chair beside him.

“Tate,” I said softly.

He didn’t look at me right away. Just stared down at his lap, his fingers tracing along the edge of the hospital blanket draped over his knees. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, distant.

“I had a brother,” he said. “For an hour, anyway.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I rested my hand on his shoulder, gripping gently, wanting to take even a fraction of the pain from him. He and I still had a bond—one that hadn’t faded, even with time.

“A brother?” I muttered, barely trusting my own voice.

“John.” He finally looked up, his gaze finding my father.

Dad’s face was unreadable, but I could see it in his eyes—that name had landed like a heavy stone in his chest.

“John?” he echoed, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

“They named him John,” Tate said.

For a moment, none of us moved. Then my father swallowed hard and stepped forward, moving into the hospital room without another word.

He didn’t need to say anything.

He just needed to be there.

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Thirty-Three

I wasn’t exactly looking forward to the drive. The cold had settled in, and the snow was starting to fall in slow, lazy flakes, the kind that promised a long, miserable trip. But Jamie hadn’t returned my calls or texts. Every time, straight to fucking voicemail. No explanation. No acknowledgment. Just silence.

It was fucking infuriating.

I knew he’d have some excuse—something rational, something carefully worded, something that dodged the real reason he’d been avoiding me. But damn it, I wanted my brother back. I wanted to look him in the eyes and get my own answers, not the ones Beth had decided were true. She’d unilaterally declared Jamie the mastermind behind the attack on our family, and maybe she was right. Maybe she wasn’t. But I needed to hear it from him.

More than that, I needed him to know I was still here. That no matter how deep the divide between him and the rest of us, I wasn’t ready to throw away my brother.

And if he’d just answered his damn phone, I wouldn’t have to drive four hours to Helena in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm to tell him that.

I sang along to the song on the radio, my voice barely carrying over the mix of '90s country, hip-hop, and pop blasting through the speakers. It was the kind of playlist I wouldn’t dare play with anyone else in the truck—too personal, too telling. But out here, alone on the open road, I could sing every word, off-key and unfiltered, without a damn bit of shame.

I belted out 9 to 5 at the top of my lungs as I pulled into the parking lot of the government office, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. A few people passed by, glancing my way, but I barely acknowledged them. It was Dolly—there was no way in hell I was stopping mid-song.

By the time the last note played, I was fired up and ready to storm into my brother’s office. If he wouldn’t answer my damn calls, I’d get my answers face-to-face.

I stepped through the doors of the state capitol building. Got patted down and walked through metal detectors. 

“What floor is Jamie Dutton’s office on?” I asked the guard. 

“Second floor, ma’am,” he said. 

I stormed up the stairs. I stopped and straightened my top before I walked through the door.

“Do you have an appointment?” his secretary asked.

“I don’t need a fucking appointment to see my brother,” I grumbled as I moved past her and into Jamie’s office. 

“What are you doing here?” Jamie looked up from his computer screen.

“I came to see if you need a new phone,” I stated. 

Jamie sighed, rubbing his temples. “My phone works just fine.”

“Funny, because every time I call, it goes straight to voicemail,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “So either your phone is broken, or you’re just ignoring me.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose like I was already exhausting him. “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to answer your sister’s calls?” I challenged, stepping closer to his desk. “Too busy to let me know you’re still alive? Because I had to drive four hours in the snow just to lay eyes on you.”

Jamie glanced toward the door, probably wondering if his secretary was listening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I scoffed. “And why the hell not? Am I gonna tarnish your precious image, Jamie? Or are you just scared to look me in the eye and tell me the truth?”

He let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already done with this conversation. “Alex…”

“Alex, what?” I huffed, dropping into the chair across from him, folding my arms. “Did you decide I wasn’t worth your time when you couldn’t use me to manipulate your way back home? Or is this about the ranch—seeing what you can weasel out of it before you hand it over to the highest bidder?”

Jamie’s jaw tightened, and his fingers curled against the desk. “I’m trying to protect the ranch,” he said, his voice calmer than I expected.

I let out a sharp laugh. “By leasing it out to people who want to steal it away from us?”

“If I didn’t, they would actually steal it from us,” he snapped, eyes flashing with frustration.

I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you? You think cutting a deal with them makes you some kind of savior.” I shook my head. “You’re not protecting the ranch, Jamie. You’re selling pieces of it off and calling it a sacrifice.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he looked away, his fingers drumming against the desk. “You don’t understand the position I’m in.”

“No,” I shot back. “You don’t understand the position we’re in. The people you’re working with don’t just want a piece of the ranch—they want all of it. You’re feeding the wolves, Jamie, and you’re too damn blind to see they’re still going to eat you.”

Jamie sighed, rubbing his temples like he was trying to ward off a headache. “This is the only way to keep most of the ranch whole,” he insisted. “Dad wouldn’t sell it to them outright.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Do you really think the chunk you leased for the fucking airport is going to satiate them?” I leaned forward, voice sharp and unrelenting. “They’re not just going to take their piece and walk away, Jamie. They’ll keep coming back, taking more and more, until there’s nothing left.”

Jamie pressed his lips into a thin line, his shoulders tense. “It’s what I can do for now.”

I stared at him, feeling the frustration start to twist into something else—something heavier. “Jamie,” I said, my voice cracking despite myself. “I miss you. And you’re here being fucking stupid.”

He flinched, just barely, but I caught it. It was the first real reaction I’d seen from him that wasn’t calculated, wasn’t part of the defensive wall he’d built around himself. For a moment, there was silence between us, thick with everything unspoken, everything lost between who we used to be and who we were now.

Jamie let out a slow breath, his fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. “I don’t think he ever really wanted me,” he admitted, voice quieter now, like he wasn’t sure he even wanted to say it out loud.

I tilted my head, studying him. “Dad?” I asked, though I already knew. This was the first real conversation we’d had since he found out the truth about his birth parents. And yeah, I’d snooped—because how the hell else was I supposed to find out anything?

“Dad loves you, Jamie. That’s why what you’re doing hurts him so much.”

He shook his head, looking down like he was trying to keep himself together. “I found him.”

I stilled. “The asshole that contributed to your DNA?” I asked, my tone sharpening. “The same one that took your birth mother away from you?”

Jamie’s jaw tightened, and I watched his expression shift—torn, conflicted, caught between the father who raised him and the man whose blood ran through his veins. It was like watching a man stand at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to turn back or take the leap.

Jamie’s lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers tightening into a fist before he released them, exhaling like he was trying to keep control of himself. “He’s not like that,” he said, his voice defensive, but not angry. “I reached out to him to find out who I am. Who I could be if I wasn’t John Dutton’s son. Because, face it, I never was his son—not in the way that mattered.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You didn’t need some stranger to tell you who you are, Jamie.” My voice softened, but the frustration remained. “I know who you are. I’ve always known. But I can’t make you see it.” I leaned forward, locking eyes with him. “You’re my brother. I don’t care if we don’t share blood. That never mattered to me.”

Jamie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he looked away. “How long have you known?”

I hesitated for only a second before answering. “I didn’t know for sure until you did,” I admitted. “But I suspected.”

His eyes flicked back to mine, searching.

“I remembered the way Mom talked about giving birth to me and Kayce—how hard it was, how much pain she was in. She talked about how big Lee was, how easy Beth was. But every time she talked about you, she never mentioned any of that. You were always her ‘gift from God.’”

Jamie let out a shaky breath, looking down at his hands. He didn’t argue, didn’t fight me on it. And for the first time in a long time, I saw something flicker in his expression—something vulnerable, something lost.

Jamie’s jaw clenched, his fingers drumming restlessly against the desk. “Don’t let that man you just met convince you that we’re not your family,” I told him, leaning forward. “That I’m not your family.”

His eyes flicked up to mine, something uncertain flickering there. “You’ll always be my family, Alex,” he admitted softly. “But I don’t know what that means anymore.”

I exhaled sharply, frustration and heartache mixing in my chest. “Maybe it’s time you figured it out.” I studied him, waiting for him to argue, to fight me on this. “That man is a snake, Jamie. He’s using you. Not because you’re his ‘son’—because he was never your father. Not in any way that matters.”

Jamie flinched, but I didn’t let up.

“I’m tired of seeing you let people walk all over you. You’re smarter than that. You’re better than that.”

His expression darkened. “It’s not that simple, Alex.”

I shook my head. “You need to make it that simple.” My voice softened just enough to let him know I wasn’t just mad—I was hurt. “I’m getting married soon. And I need you there.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Married?”

I nodded. “Yeah. And I want my brother standing there with me.”

Jamie ran a hand down his face, exhaling heavily. “Jesus, Alex…”

“Yeah, well, you’ve been a little out of the loop.” I forced a smirk, trying to lighten the moment, but the weight between us was still there. “So… are you coming or what?”

“If you still want me there,” he responded, “I’ll be there.” 

“I want you there,” I smiled at him, “I’ll make sure you and Beth are seated on the opposite sides of the ranch but I want you there.” I stood from my seat and rounded the desk. Slipping my arms around his waist, “Just answer your damn phone when I call.” 

Jamie hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me, his hold tight like he was afraid to let go. “I will,” he promised, his voice quieter now.

I sighed against his shoulder. “Good. Because I hate having to drive all the way to Helena just to knock some sense into you.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “I’d say I’ll do better, but… you know me.”

I pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m not holding my breath.” I smirked, patting his chest. “But I’m holding you to that promise.”

Jamie nodded, something unreadable passing over his expression. “I’ll be there, Alex.”

Satisfied, I stepped back. “Good. Now, I gotta get back before the roads turn to shit.”

Jamie watched me for a moment, then gave me a small, genuine smile. “Drive safe.”

“I always do.” I shot him a wink before turning toward the door.

I didn’t know if I had really gotten through to him, but at least for now, he was still my brother. And that was enough.

—--------------

My phone rang just a couple of hours after I pulled onto the highway back home.

Ryan

 I clicked the button on the truck, letting the sound of his voice play through the speakers, “This better be good you interrupted my duet with George Strait.”

I heard him chuckle, “Sorry to interrupt you and George, baby. Just wanted to see if you were headed back, yet. Snow’s starting to come down heavy here.” 

“I should be home in an hour or so,” I told him, “almost to the Bozeman exit.”

“Be careful, if you want I can meet you there and bring you home,” he said.

I smiled at the offer, warmth spreading through my chest. “That’s sweet, cowboy, but I think I can handle it. I’ve driven through worse.”

“I know,” he admitted, “but I’d feel better if I was the one behind the wheel, getting you home safe.”

I glanced at the snowflakes hitting my windshield, heavier now than when I left Helena. “I appreciate it, Ryan. But if it gets too bad, I’ll pull over.”

He sighed. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

There was a brief pause before he spoke again. “Alright. But you call me if anything changes. I’ll come get you, no matter where you are.”

My grip on the wheel tightened slightly at the sincerity in his voice. “I know you would,” I murmured. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do,” he said, and I could practically hear his smile. “And I love you, too. Now hurry home.”

“I’ll be home soon,” I assured him with a smile, then started singing, “’Cause I’m carrying your love with me…” My voice wasn’t perfect, but I knew he’d appreciate it.

Ryan chuckled, the warmth in his laughter making my chest tighten in the best way. “Alright, you and George stay safe out there, baby.”

“We will,” I promised. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait.”

The call ended, but his voice lingered in my mind. I glanced at the darkening sky, snowflakes swirling faster against my headlights. The storm was picking up, but I wasn’t worried. Not when I had someone waiting for me—someone who loved me, someone who’d drop everything to come find me if I needed him.

—---

I shivered as I climbed out of the truck, my breath visible in the freezing air. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I trudged toward the bunkhouse, the fresh snow crunching under my boots.

“It is cold as a son of a bitch out there,” I grumbled, pushing through the door. The warmth inside hit me instantly, and I stomped the snow off my boots on the rug, shaking off the chill.

Ryan was already on his feet, reaching for me. “You made it just in time, baby.” He helped me shrug out of my coat, his hands lingering just long enough to send warmth radiating through me before he wrapped me in his arms.

I exhaled against his chest, relaxing into him. “What’d I make it just in time for?”

Ryan tilted his head toward the TV. “Think your dad’s gonna be on.”

I pulled back, furrowing my brow. “My dad? Why the hell is he on TV?”

Colby, sprawled out on the couch, turned the volume up. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

I turned toward the screen just as the image of my father appeared. He stood at a podium, a suit and his ever-present cowboy hat making him look just as out of place as he did in a church pew. His stance was solid, immovable, like the land he’d spent his life protecting. Then his voice rang out, steady and firm.

“If it’s progress you seek, do not vote for me.” His words carried weight, the kind that settled deep in your bones. “I am the opposite of progress. I’m the wall that it bashes against, and I will not be the one who breaks.”

I stared at the screen, barely breathing.

My father was running for governor.

—--------------- 

I ran my fingers along the worn edge of the wooden table, memories of Lee lingering in every inch of this cabin. The scent of aged pine and leather still clung to the air, mixing with the faint chill seeping in through the windows. My father stood beside me, arms crossed, his gaze heavy with understanding as he watched me take it all in.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me changing things, Dad?” My voice was softer than I intended, the weight of my hesitation pressing down on me.

He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment before he turned to face me fully. “It’s yours now, sweetheart.”

I nodded, but doubt still gnawed at the edges of my resolve.

Sensing it, he stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand over my heart. “Lee’s still here.” His touch was firm but gentle. “You’re not pushing him out. He’s giving you room.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, glancing around the cabin once more. It still felt like him, but maybe—just maybe—there was space for me here too.

I ran a cloth over the wooden furniture, clearing away the thin layer of dust that had settled in the quiet absence of life. Lee’s things were still here, untouched, as if he might walk through the door at any moment. Carefully, I folded his shirts and placed them into a box, but I hesitated when I reached his hat. It hung on the rack by the door, exactly where he’d last left it. I couldn’t take it down. Not yet. It was a piece of him, a silent reminder that he’d been here, that he’d lived.

As I turned back toward the table, my fingers brushed against the edge of a framed photograph. I picked it up, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“I must’ve been six or seven here?” I held it up for Dad to see. The image was of Lee, standing tall with his hand wrapped around the reins of a horse, while I sat on top, my hair in messy pigtails, my little hands gripping the saddle horn.

Dad took the picture from me, studying it with quiet reverence.

“I remember that day,” I murmured, nostalgia warming my voice. “He was helping me because my legs couldn’t reach the stirrups.”

A flicker of emotion crossed Dad’s face, something between pride and grief. “He always looked out for you.”

I nodded, pressing the frame close to my chest for a moment before setting it gently back on the table. “Yeah,” I whispered. “He did.”

I exhaled, feeling the weight of my own thoughts settle over me. “I went to see Jamie,” I confessed, almost as if I needed permission to say it out loud—as if admitting it might betray the rest of my family. But he was still my brother. That had to mean something.

Dad didn’t look surprised. “I know it wasn’t him that was behind what happened,” he said simply.

I nodded, absorbing his words. “I don’t know if Beth really believes Jamie is responsible, or if she just needs another reason to hate him. Something that will make you hate him, too.”

Dad let out a slow sigh, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I know, sweetheart.” His voice was heavy, edged with something unspoken. He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he gathered up the boxes I had packed and headed for the door.

I followed him onto the porch, watching as he loaded them onto the back of the truck. The cold air bit at my skin, but it didn’t stop the warmth that curled in my chest at his next words.

“The man behind it is rotting in prison as we speak.”

I studied his face, searching for any hint of doubt. There was none. It should have been reassuring. It should have been enough. But then why did it still feel like something wasn’t finished?

My stomach twisted with the weight of Dad’s words, but I held my ground. “How much longer is he gonna be in prison?” I asked, my voice steady, but the question still heavy with the underlying rage I couldn’t shake.

Dad’s response was quick and decisive. “The rest of his miserable fucking life,” he said, his tone hard. Then, with a dark glint in his eyes, he added, “I’m making arrangements so that the life he has left isn’t much longer.”

The words hit me like a slap, and I froze. Dad had never spoken like this to me—not about the violence, the dirty work, the things that had to be done to keep the ranch safe. That was Rip’s world, Kayce’s world. Not mine. But here we were, standing on the porch with the biting wind between us, and he was telling me something that made my blood run cold.

I swallowed hard. “Good.” The word came out sharp, almost a whisper. “The less air on this earth I have to share with him, the better.”

Dad’s gaze softened slightly as he turned back to the truck. But the heaviness of the moment didn’t lift. I knew exactly what he meant. And I couldn’t help but feel that, for all the power and protection he offered, there was a price. There always was. 

Dad grunted as he dropped the last box from the truck, rubbing his back with an exaggerated groan. “You ready to unload all of your boxes?” he asked, his voice a mix of humor and exhaustion.

I flashed him a grin, leaning against the truck. “You ready to get rid of me already?” I teased, giving him a playful look.

He smirked, shaking his head. “You’re not going far, I can toss a rock at your door from the back porch,” he said with a shrug, the familiar weight of his love and protection woven in the casual remark.

I smiled, the lump in my throat a little tighter than I’d expected. “I love you, Dad.”

He grunted again, this time more in frustration than fatigue. “Why do you have so much shit?” he groaned as he lugged the last of the boxes from his truck bed.

I laughed, shaking my head at him. “Sorry, I’m not more like Kayce, who’s been wearing the same two pairs of jeans for the last five years.”

Dad let out a short, amused snort, and for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to lift just a little bit. We stood there together, the air filled with the scent of wood and earth, the day slowly fading into the evening light. It felt like home in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he brought the last of my boxes into the cabin. 

“Ok, Dad,” I watched him walk back to the big house before stepping back inside to make Lee’s cabin a home for me and Ryan. 

I unpacked everything and glanced at the clock, it would still be another hour before Ryan came back from the fields. So I opened my laptop to search for the name of the man who ordered the hit on my father. His mug shot flashed on the screen. His eyes were cold and unnerving. 

I stood there for a moment, staring at the mug shot on the screen, feeling a chill run down my spine. His face, cold and calculating, seemed to burn into my mind as though he could reach through the screen and drag me into whatever dark world he came from. I shook my head, frustration building.

This man—this stranger—had chosen to go after our family, and I still couldn’t piece together why. He didn’t know us. He didn’t care about our history. It didn’t make sense.

I clicked through a few more pages, trying to find some kind of connection, something that explained why this guy was so determined to target my family. The more I read, the more I felt like I was hitting a brick wall. A name here, a few records there, but nothing that pointed to a clear reason. Nothing that told me how his hatred had been aimed at us.

I glanced out the window, hearing the sound of horses in the distance, a reminder of everything my father and the family had built. This wasn’t just some random act of violence; it was a message. But who was the message for? Who was the real target?

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Why us?" I whispered to myself.

The front door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts. Ryan’s voice filtered in, low and steady. “You still at it?”

I closed the laptop with a soft click. “Yeah. Just... trying to make sense of things.”

Ryan stepped inside, wiping his boots on the mat. His gaze fell to the laptop, then back to me. “You sure you want to know everything? You can only fight what's coming at you if you understand it.”

I nodded slowly, but the words felt hollow. I didn’t know if I was ready for the kind of truth this would bring, but I didn’t have much of a choice anymore.

"Where's all your stuff?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed. "You not ready to leave the bunkhouse yet?"

He dropped his duffle bag onto the floor with a thud, giving me that grin I couldn’t help but melt for. "I’ll bring my trunk up here later."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the lone bag. "That’s all you’ve got? I just unpacked a dozen or so boxes, and I still have a closet full of clothes in my room."

He leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down with a smirk. "Baby, you have too much shit."

I rolled my eyes playfully, shaking my head. "You sound like my dad."

Ryan chuckled and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me in closer. "Well, your dad's not wrong." He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my temple. "I don't need all that stuff. Just need you, a few shirts, and some boots to get me through."

I laughed, feeling the weight of the last few days melt off me in his arms. "You’re lucky you’re cute," I said, resting my head against his chest. "If you weren’t, I might’ve packed you a suitcase just to make up for it."

He chuckled again, rubbing my back gently. "Good thing I’m cute, then."

"Yeah, it’s a good thing," I agreed, looking up at him with a soft smile. "But seriously, don’t let me catch you leaving the rest of your stuff in that bunkhouse for too long. I’m not running back and forth for your shit."

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, and pulled back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guess I better get started, huh?"

“That can wait until later,” I said, sliding my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Dinner is in the oven.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful smile. “Dinner?”

I nodded, smirking back at him. “Hope you like deep dish, cowboy. I got the best frozen pizza money could buy.”

Ryan laughed, his chest rumbling against me. “Well, now you’ve really got me intrigued. You sure know how to spoil a guy.”

I grinned up at him. “Hey, it’s all about the little things.”

His arms tightened around me, and his face softened with that look I loved. “Little things are my favorite,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to mine in a slow, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he looked at me with that mischievous glint. “But, you know, after dinner, I might just have to claim the rest of the night for myself.”

“Good thing I’m not planning on going anywhere,” I whispered, letting the heat between us build, knowing that once dinner was done, we’d both be ready to settle into something a lot more... exciting.

I pulled the pizza out of the oven, sliced it up, and we settled onto the couch, the warmth of the pizza and Ryan’s arm around me offering comfort after the day’s weight. We turned on the television, and the soft hum of the screen filled the room as we both dug into our food.

The lady on the news had a steady voice, but the story she was reporting hit too close to home. “...The local militia responsible for the shooting at Ruby’s Diner, which tragically took the life of Sheriff Donnie Haskell. The assailants were neutralized by Former Livestock Commissioner John Dutton, who has since been lauded for his heroics.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. They were talking about my dad, the man I had spent my entire life idolizing, but now the world saw him in a different light. “My father can’t keep himself out of bad situations,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I leaned back against Ryan’s chest.

The reporter continued, “...and thanks to his quick thinking, several other lives were spared in what could have been a much deadlier situation.”

Ryan looked down at me, sensing the weight of my words. “Your dad really can’t help but get into the thick of things, can he?”

I nodded, but my gaze stayed fixed on the screen as they showed footage of my father standing tall, his presence commanding. It wasn’t just the heroism on display—it was the reminder that he was always in the thick of it, making hard choices. That wasn’t always easy to stomach.

“I’ve always thought of Dad as a hero,” I muttered, barely aware I was speaking out loud. “Now the rest of Montana knows it too. Whether he likes it or not, people are seeing him as something more than just the tough rancher.”

Ryan’s arm tightened around me in a way that was meant to comfort. “He doesn’t need the spotlight, but he’s not the type to shy away from what’s right.”

I exhaled deeply, letting his words sink in. “I just… I don’t know, Ryan. I hate that he’s always out there, making those decisions that affect us all. But I can’t deny that he’s always been there for us, too.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment before he kissed the top of my head. “Maybe that’s why you’re so much like him, Alex. You carry that same fire.”

“This can only help him with his run for governor,”  I told him. “Common, let's head down to the bunkhouse. There’s not enough noise here and I’m feeling antsy.”

I slipped my boots on and tugged on my coat.

“I think you just need an audience,” he chuckled as he followed after me. 

“I don’t need an audience,” I smirked, pulling my coat tighter around me as we stepped out into the cold night air. “I just need a little chaos to take my mind off things.”

Ryan shook his head, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Uh-huh, and where do you always find that chaos?”

I grinned. “The bunkhouse.”

As we made our way down the path, the distant sound of laughter and music spilled from the bunkhouse, a stark contrast to the quiet stillness of Lee’s cabin. I could already picture Colby and Teeter arguing over a card game, Lloyd giving them both hell.

Ryan opened the door, and the warmth and noise hit us instantly.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Colby called out.

“Alex, thought you were too fancy for us up in the big house?” Walker added with a teasing smirk.

“Well someone has to class up the joint,” I gave him a grin, “So I guess tonight Fancy is my name.” I watched as Rip stood behind Carter at the table. The kid was holding his own in the game against the others. 

“Y’all want in the next hand?” Colby asked. 

“I think I’ll just watch and learn from the master,” I said. 

“It’s about time you realized it,” Colby responded. 

“Not you,” I chuckled sliding my chair next to Carter, “Looks like he’s taking you for all you’re worth.” 

Carter smirked, glancing up at me with that spark of mischief in his eyes. “Ain’t my fault they underestimate me.”

“You hear that?” I nudged Colby with my elbow. “Kid’s got confidence.”

Colby huffed, shuffling the deck. “Confidence don’t mean shit if you can’t back it up.”

Carter leaned forward, stacking his small pile of winnings. “You sure about that? ‘Cause last I checked, I got more chips than you.”

The bunkhouse erupted into laughter, and even Rip cracked a small, approving grin behind Carter.

I grinned at the kid, popping the top off my beer. “You keep that up, and they’re gonna stop letting you play.”

Walker strummed his guitar from the corner. “Kid’s gonna clean ‘em out and start running the place soon.”

Ryan dropped into the chair beside me, draping an arm over the back of it. “Long as he don’t start bossing me around, I got no problem with it.”

Carter shot him a cheeky grin. “No promises.”

I glanced up at Rip, smirking. “You and the missus already having a lover’s spat?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Nah, Beth’s up there getting her ass whooped by your father.”

I nodded knowingly. “Glad I decided to come here instead of there tonight.”

Across the table, Colby whistled, shaking his head. “Look at this kid. I think he’s done this before.”

“It’s my first time,” Carter insisted, casually shuffling the cards in the air with practiced ease.

Ryan narrowed his eyes as he picked up his hand. “You’re flipping cards like a damn Vegas dealer.”

Carter grinned. “First time actually playing.” Then, without hesitation, he tossed money into the pile. “Triple it.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Triple the bet, huh?”

“This little card-sharking motherfucker,” Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head.

“Ain’t no kid,” Teeter groaned. “He’s just a motherfucking, card-sharkin’ little elf.”

“Yeah, you tell him, baby,” Colby said, amused.

Teeter’s lips curled into a grin. “I love it when you call me baby. You wanna scratch me behind the ears?”

“No,” Colby deadpanned.

“What about my other ears?” she teased, waggling her brows.

“Don’t start,” Rip warned, cutting his eyes at them. “And don’t listen to them, kid.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get a room, you two.”

Carter ignored the banter, keeping his focus on the game. “Here’s the flop.”

Ryan arched a brow. “The flop? He even knows the terminology. Where the hell did you find him, a goddamn circus?”

“A poker circus?” Colby scoffed. “That’s just disrespectful.”

“I love it,” Rip admitted, watching the kid with amusement.

Colby eyed me, suspicious. “You know what he’s got.”

I smirked but kept my lips sealed. “I ain’t saying shit.”

Colby huffed. “Alright, well…”

“Check,” Lloyd called.

“Ain’t no checking today,” Carter declared, tossing another twenty onto the table.

Lloyd let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head as he folded. “Well, hell, looks like it’s down to the kid and the unluckiest card player on earth now.” Glancing over at Ryan.

Walker shook his head as he stepped away from the table. “I wonder how that’s gonna work out.”

“Do we, though?” I arched a brow, watching Carter with growing amusement.

“All right, he’s got something,” Teeter muttered, narrowing her eyes at the kid.

Carter calmly turned over the cards. “And the river.”

Ryan leaned forward, smirking. “You’re fucked, kid.”

Carter tilted his head, completely unfazed. “Do you have a boat?”

Colby groaned. “Listen to this fucking kid. Boat.”

Teeter suddenly launched into an indecipherable rant, her words tumbling together in a chaotic mess. “He’s a cheatin’ little mother-fuckin’ squirrely-haired twat-mouth cunt mother-fuckin’ face of a death nose—”

Carter blinked and turned to me. “What’s wrong with her?”

I smirked. “What do you mean?”

“Did she bite off her tongue or something?”

The table erupted in laughter.

“Fuck you! Don’t laugh at that shit!” Teeter barked, crossing her arms.

Rip laughed so hard he started choking.

Lloyd glanced over, confused. “What the hell’s so funny back there?”

Rip, still gasping for air, managed between fits of laughter, “He’s kicking your ass and talking shit at the same time.”

Carter leaned forward, cool as ever. “Pot’s right. Let’s do it.” He locked eyes with Ryan.

Ryan exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s right. I do have the boat, you little bastard. Aces up.” He turned over an ace and a seven.

Teeter smirked. “I think it’s past your bedtime, kid.”

Carter didn’t blink. “So did I.”

Then, as smooth as ever, he flipped over two aces.

The whole table groaned as Carter casually slid the chips in front of him.

Colby threw his hands in the air. “He had the same exact cards last time.”

I grinned. “Y’all sure you weren’t just set up by a real card shark?”

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Thirty-One

Adult Content ahead 18+

The barn was quiet when we got there, the kind of silence that sat heavy in the air. No one said much, but we all felt it—the weight of last night still pressing down on us. The fight. Lloyd. Walker. The kind of shit that didn’t just disappear come morning.

Lloyd had always been a fixture on the ranch, as much a part of it as the fences and the land itself. I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t here. He’d taught most of us what we knew, been the steady hand when things got rough. But last night, he’d crossed a line. He let his pride take the reins, let something dark fester until it finally boiled over.

And I wasn’t even sure anymore if it was about Laramie. Maybe it had been at first. Maybe she made him feel like he wasn’t just some old relic left out in the sun too long. Like he still had something to prove. But now? Now it felt like something else. Something bigger.

Walker wasn’t innocent either. He never had been. But Kayce had given him a second chance, one that most cowboys who’d seen what happened on this ranch didn’t get. That alone made some of us uneasy.

I glanced at Ryan, then Colby. No one spoke. Just the sound of horses shifting in their stalls, the creak of the barn settling around us. We had work to do.

We led our horses from their stalls in silence, the usual morning chatter replaced by an unspoken agreement to keep to ourselves. Saddles creaked, hooves shuffled against the dirt, and the steady rhythm of routine took over, but it didn’t feel the same.

The kid—new and eager, still trying to carve out a place for himself—scurried around, looking for something, anything, to do. I could see the uncertainty in the way he hovered, watching us for cues, waiting for someone to tell him where he fit in. But no one did. Not today.

I’d teach him if I could. Hell, on any other day, I probably would’ve given him something to do, shown him the ropes like someone once did for me. But right now, I didn’t have it in me. Not when the weight of last night still sat heavy on my chest, pressing down like a bad omen.

So I tightened my cinch, adjusted my reins, and swung into the saddle without a word. Let the work pull me forward, hoping maybe, just maybe, it’d lighten the load.

I lined up with the rest of the hands at the edge of the arena, waiting for Rip to give direction. The air was thick with dust and something heavier—something that had nothing to do with cattle or work. I watched as Lloyd loaded panels in the ring, his usual quiet authority stripped away. He was the low man now.

“You alright, baby?” Ryan’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I nodded. “Not seeing stars anymore, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“That, and I’ve never seen you go so long without talking,” he said, studying me.

“Sometimes it’s okay to just be silent, I guess,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

Ryan tilted his head slightly, eyes sharp with understanding. “Don’t stay trapped in your head too long, baby,” he warned.

Before I could say anything back, Dad rode up. “You got me something saddled?” he asked Rip, stretching his legs like he was already preparing to be in the saddle.

“We’re just rounding up the two-year-olds,” Rip told him. “We’ll be back in a half hour. Then the real fun begins.”

Dad chuckled, swinging easily onto his horse. “I ain’t lookin’ to break any colts. This is the only fun I get to have.”

And just like that, he rode out ahead of us, leaving nothing but hoofbeats and his usual no-nonsense energy in his wake.

The sight of wild horses—or as close to wild as they could be—galloping through the pasture lifted my spirits in a way nothing else could. Their manes and tails streamed behind them, muscles rippling beneath sun-warmed coats as they moved like ghosts across the land.

I couldn’t help myself. They were beautiful, majestic—everything that made this place feel alive.

Kicking my horse into a faster pace, I rode alongside them, the thundering of hooves pounding in my chest. The wind whipped through my hair, and for a moment, I wasn’t just another ranch hand. I was part of the stampede, running wild and untamed.

As we funneled them toward the arena, a sharp whistle from Rip signaled the next step. The work wasn’t done, but damn if this wasn’t the kind of work that made me feel free.

“All right, Jake,” Rip called out, rattling off our assignments. “You’ve got the sorrel filly with the bald face and four stockings. Ethan, you’re on the bay colt—Blaze. Ryan, Colby, you’ll take the buckskin filly and the dun colt. Walker, you’re on the red roan with the blaze. And Alex, you’ve got the steel gray colt.”

Dad’s phone rang. He answered with a nod, his expression darkening. “Jesus. All right, we’re on our way.” He hung up and looked over at Ryan. “Let’s go work for the state.”

“What happened?” Ryan asked, already moving toward him.

Dad shook his head. “I don’t even know how to explain.”

As Ryan passed, I shot him a smirk. “Leaving all the real work for us, cowboy?”

“Gotta do my duty, baby,” he said with a grin. “Don’t fall off.”

I smirked, adjusting my grip on the reins. “I never do.”

Ryan chuckled as he jogged after Dad, leaving the rest of us with the colts.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Rip called, and just like that, the moment was gone.

I turned my attention to the steel gray colt standing in the pen, ears flicking back and forth, watching me with wary eyes. He was a beauty, all muscle and raw potential, but there was fire in him too—a defiance I recognized all too well.

"Easy, boy," I murmured, stepping in slow. "Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you."

The colt snorted, shifting his weight, testing me. The others were already working their horses, but I took my time. This wasn’t about breaking. It was about earning trust.

I didn’t have time to wonder what Dad and Ryan were walking into, but something about his tone stuck with me. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

The loud crash of the panel behind me sent a jolt through my spine. I snapped my head around just in time to see Walker hitting the dirt, his red roan kicking up dust as it bolted across the arena.

“You alright?” I called over, watching as he pulled himself up, brushing the grime off his jeans.

“Just a little buckaroo,” he muttered, already moving to grab the reins and climb back on.

I shook my head, biting back a chuckle. Some men just didn’t know when to take it slow. But what caught my attention next wasn’t Walker—it was Lloyd, standing rigid, his cold stare locked onto him like a loaded gun.

That fight wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The last thing I wanted was to get caught between them again, so I turned my focus back to my own horse. The steel gray colt shifted beneath me as I tightened his cinch, his ears flicking back, testing me. I ran a steadying hand along his neck. “Easy, boy.”

Taking the horn in one hand and the reins in the other, I slid my foot into the stirrup, applying just enough pressure to let him feel my weight. He tensed but didn’t shy away. I took that as a good sign.

“That’s it,” I murmured, swinging my leg over.

He rocked beneath me, testing, debating whether or not he wanted to accept this arrangement. My hips moved with his uncertain sway, keeping my seat as I let him work through it.

“I’m in this for the long haul,” I told him, my voice calm but firm. “You can make it easy on both of us if you just let it happen.”

He snorted, ears twitching back toward me. A challenge. A test.

I grinned.

“Alright then,” I whispered. “Let’s dance.”

I trotted the steel-gray colt over to Rip, giving him a confident nod. “I think this one’s a keeper.”

“Nicely done,” Rip said, his approval gruff but genuine.

Swinging down, I gave the colt a final stroke along his sleek neck. “I’ll let you figure out your place here alone.” He’d earned it. Some horses needed space to settle in, just like some men.

Leaving him in the corral, I leaned against the fence, watching as Ethan worked with his bay. That horse wasn’t making it easy, but Ethan? He had a way about him—calm, controlled, like he was speaking a language only the colt could hear. It was damn near poetry, the way he bent the horse’s will without force, just patience.

“Alright, Ethan!” I called, tipping my hat.

“If you got bucked off, we’d have had Teeter get on there instead,” Jake teased, smirking as he swung his leg over the fence.

“I think it’s beer time,” Mia chimed in, dusting off her jeans.

Teeter nodded. “It’s beer o’clock, I think.”

With that, we strolled back toward the barn, the weight of the day’s work settling into our bones.

When we stepped into the bunkhouse, Ryan was already waiting, a case of beer cracked open on the table. He leaned back in his chair, smirking as he raised a bottle.

“How was your day, dear?” I teased, plucking a beer from the case.

“Pretty damn quiet compared to yours,” he chuckled, watching me over the rim of his bottle. “Now, come on over here and tell me how you tamed that steel beast.”

“Same way I tamed you,” I shot back with a smirk. “With a roll of my hips.”

Ryan’s lips curled into that cocky grin I knew too well. “I’ll have to remind you how not tame I am later.”

“Promises, promises,” I teased, tipping my beer back.

The bunkhouse had settled into an easy rhythm, everyone gathered around the TV, watching a rodeo event. The familiar twang of the announcer’s voice filled the room as a rider lined up for his turn.

“Come on, Shad,” Colby called out, leaning forward as the cowboy on the screen prepared to rope. “Y’all hurry the fuck up—you’re gonna miss it!”

Ryan walked over, carrying an armload of beers. “That’s your cousin?” he asked Colby as I took a few from him, passing them out like a good hostess.

“Yep,” Colby nodded, eyes locked on the screen. “Come on, baby. Clean run, clean run.”

I dropped onto the couch next to him, my gaze locked on the rider. There was something about rodeo—precision, adrenaline, the raw skill it took to bring an animal under control in seconds. Ryan settled behind me, perching on the back of the couch, his hands kneading my shoulders as he watched.

The rope snapped tight, the steer caught clean.

“That’s how you do it!” I whooped, flashing Colby a smug grin. “Guess talent didn’t make it that far down your branch of the family tree.”

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “Clearly, the ability to rope ain’t hereditary.”

“Man, fuck y’all,” Colby laughed, shaking his head. “I can out-rope your fucking ass.”

Ryan raised a brow. “In what fucking world can you out-rope me?”

“In any world. Literally any fucking planet,” Colby declared. “Take me to outer space, and I’ll out-rope you there too.”

Jake snorted. “What kind of fucking roping are you gonna do in outer space?”

“He forgot about that little thing called gravity,” I said, stifling a laugh.

“What the fuck are y’all talking about?” Teeter shouted from across the room. “Roping in fucking space?”

“He is,” Jake pointed at Colby, shaking his head.

“That’s fucking insane,” Teeter scoffed.

Colby waved them off. “Just a buncha haters.”

Ryan took a swig of his beer and gave me a look, then said to Colby, “I still can’t believe you have the same DNA as that man.”

—------------------

I slipped out of Ryan’s bunk early. He rubbed his eyes looking up at me, “Where you going, baby?”

“Back to the house,” I whispered. 

Ryan reached for my hand, his fingers trailing lazily down my wrist. “You sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and rough in the quiet of the bunkhouse.

I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I’d love to, but I think my dad’s lonely,” I whispered. “Kayce and Monica moved out, and Beth’s staying in the foreman’s house with Rip. He’s in that big house all by himself.”

Ryan sighed, rubbing his face before propping himself up on one elbow. “Guess that means I gotta let you go, huh?”

I smiled. “Just for today.”

He smirked, pulling me down for one last kiss. “You better come back, baby.”

I brushed my fingers through his hair. “You know I will.”

I stopped at the bunkhouse door, glancing back at him as he settled back in his bed to sleep. 

The cool Montana air cut through my jacket as I made my way back to the house, the chill biting at my skin and making me pull the fabric tighter around my shoulders. The sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen reached me before the smell did, but when it hit, I couldn’t help but smile.

Gator was back.

“Morning, Miss Alex,” he greeted, a wide smile spreading across his face as he flipped a pancake. “Breakfast’ll be ready in a bit. Coffee’s on the table.”

I sighed with relief, the thought of a real meal after days of frozen pizza and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and whatever the fuck Teeter made was almost too much to bear. “I’m sure glad you’re home,” I said, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. “Been living on frozen pizza and PB&J for days.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, his hands moving expertly around the kitchen as he worked. “You really need to let me know when I’m gone longer than a day or two, Miss Alex. Can’t have you living like that.”

“I know, I know,” I said with a grin, stepping into the dining room. "It's just been a mess around here."

Gator just smiled, his calm demeanor enough to soothe the hectic energy I’d been carrying around with me. I moved to the dining room table and poured myself a cup of coffee, taking in the warmth of the room as it surrounded me. There was something about Gator’s presence that felt like home.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Dad said as he settled into his seat at the head of the table, his voice gruff but warm.

“Morning, Dad,” I replied, from my seat beside him.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the empty spot beside me. “Where’s Ryan?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

“Still in the bunkhouse,” I told him with a slight smile. “I think you scare him.”

“I should,” Dad grinned, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous gleam. “I’m your father and his boss.”

I chuckled, stirring my coffee. “I know. But you know I love him, so that should count for something.”

Dad shook his head in amusement. “Loving cowboys ain’t easy.”

I smirked, meeting his eyes. “Loving me isn’t easy either.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling. “True. But that’s part of the deal, isn’t it?”

“It’s what makes it all worthwhile,” I said, leaning back in my chair. The conversation was easy, like it always was with Dad—no matter how complicated life seemed, there was always something comforting about these simple moments shared between us.

Beth slid into her seat across from me, opening her laptop with practiced ease after filling her coffee cup. Gator came in then, setting down a platter piled high with pancakes and crispy bacon.

"Do y’all need anything else?" Gator asked, his eyes flicking between us.

"No thank you," I beamed at him, my stomach already growling in anticipation. The breakfast spread in front of me was a thing of beauty—pancakes I could clearly identify, crispy bacon that smelled irresistible. I couldn’t help it; I loaded my plate with the food, diving in before it even hit the surface.

“Not hungry?” Dad asked, glancing over at Beth as she stayed focused on her screen.

“No, I’m intermittent fasting,” she said without looking up.

“What’s that mean?” I asked, my mouth full of bacon.

“Uh… nothing but coffee and cigarettes ‘til noon,” she replied, shrugging. “And then I can eat whatever the hell I want until I start drinking at six.”

Dad raised an eyebrow, clearly perplexed. “I’d like to meet the doctor that came up with that diet.”

Beth didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve adapted it to suit my lifestyle,” she said, clicking away at her laptop with a smirk.

Dad shook his head, muttering under his breath as he dug into his food, clearly not understanding, but also not really caring to challenge her on it. I just rolled my eyes, stuffing another forkful of pancake in my mouth. It was way too early to be debating diets.

“What are you working on today?” Dad asked, his tone casual but his eyes never leaving the table.

“Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission on this one, Dad,” Beth replied without missing a beat. “If you don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” he said, his brow furrowing as he shot her a pointed look.

“I’m taking the job at Market Equities,” she stated, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

I raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “How exactly is that supposed to help us?”

Beth didn’t hesitate. “It’ll help us when I run it into the fucking ground.”

I sighed, knowing that tone. “What are y’all doing today?” she asked, brushing off the tension.

“Probably work with the two-year-olds some more,” I said, keeping it simple. I figured what I did had little interest to her, but I didn’t feel like getting into it.

Dad gave her a thoughtful look before responding, “I’m battling my conscience.”

Beth smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I’d offer advice, Dad, but I’ve never been in that situation.” She gave him a teasing look.

Dad chuckled at her response, shaking his head. “You’re one of a kind.”

“I gotta go,” she said, standing up and grabbing her coffee cup. “Off to ruin lives.”

“What kind of dilemma are you working through, Dad?” I asked, eyeing him over my coffee cup. “My conscience is still partially intact.”

He let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. “One of those cattle protesters,” he muttered. “She’s a real piece of work.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should show her how we do things here,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s not cruelty, not in the way people like her think.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he replied, his tone still heavy with frustration. He stood up, pulling on his jacket. “Be careful out there. And tell Ryan to come see me later.”

“OK, Dad,” I said, nodding as I stood. 

—--

I showered and changed quickly, the cool Montana air giving me a bit of a jolt as I headed back out to the arena. The sounds of hooves and voices carried in the wind, and when I rounded the corner, I could already see the hands working with the colts again.

Ryan was in the thick of it, sitting atop one hell of a rank son of a bitch. The horse twisted and bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off, but Ryan sat tall, his grip firm. I couldn't help but smile, shaking my head at the sight.

"You sure you wanna be doing that, cowboy?" I called out, half-amused and half-impressed, as I walked closer.

He shot me a grin, not even flinching when the horse bucked harder. “Better this than being stuck inside all day.”

I laughed, watching as the colt fought every step of the way. "Guess you're a glutton for punishment."

"Someone's gotta keep the rest of these horses in check," Ryan said, his voice steady even as the horse twisted again, trying to buck him off.

I stood there for a moment, watching the struggle between man and beast. There was something about the way he moved, the way he controlled the horse, that made my chest tighten with admiration. It wasn’t just skill; it was patience, determination—things that made him stand out even more in a place like this.

“Just don’t break anything, cowboy,” I called out, already knowing that even if I said it a thousand times, he wouldn’t listen.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Ryan called back, a cocky grin on his face, “I’ve got this.”

“It’s all in the hips,” I called over to him. 

The struggle continued, but it was clear that he was going to win. As always.

“My dad wants to talk to you, by the way,” I called as I headed back to my steel colt. 

I couldn't help but grin as I heard Ryan's frustrated exhale. "Fuck," he muttered, still wrestling with the colt beneath him. I couldn’t tell if he was more concerned about my father or the beast he was trying to ride.

"You'll live," I called over my shoulder, heading back toward my steel-gray colt, keeping my voice light. "Just, uh, try to not piss him off too much."

I could feel Ryan’s gaze on me as I made my way back to the corral. He didn't need to say it aloud; I knew he'd rather be out here, fighting with the horses, than dealing with the serious conversations my dad always seemed to want to have.

The colt pawed the ground nervously as I approached, but I gave him a reassuring pat. “Easy now,” I whispered, steadying him as I swung up into the saddle. He was strong, stubborn, but I knew him well enough to feel his hesitation. He’d settle in time.

I glanced back to see Ryan still fighting with the colt, his grip tightening as he gave another hard yank on the reins.  

Ryan gave a half-laugh, clearly not in the mood for teasing, but the fight in him never faded. “Tell your dad I’m on my way in a minute,” he called, focusing entirely on the animal beneath him.

I nodded, guiding my colt into a smooth trot, trying not to watch too closely as Ryan wrestled his mount into submission. I knew he’d get the job done, but I also knew that look on his face—whatever my dad wanted to talk about, Ryan wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

I just hoped it wasn’t anything that’d keep him out of the saddle for long.

The Montana sky opened up, rain started pouring down. Can’t break colts in the rain. Guess that left one option for Ryan, facing my father. I slid down from my mount, ushering him undercover to take his saddle off. I glanced back at Ryan who was still debating what he was gonna do next. 

“I can go in there with you if you want,” I told him when he finally gave up on the horse. 

“I think this is a conversation I need to have with him alone, baby,” he responded. “But you can walk me to the door.” 

I watched as Ryan hesitated for a moment, the rain pelting down around him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, frustration clear in the way his shoulders were tense. I knew he didn’t want to face my dad, not after the way things had been between them. But I also knew he wouldn’t back down. Not for anyone.

“Alright,” I said, stepping toward him. “I’ll walk you there. I’m not letting you face him in the rain, cowboy.”

Ryan cracked a small smile, his eyes softening for just a moment. “You always take care of me,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“You’re a pain in my ass, but I don’t mind,” I replied, a hint of teasing in my tone.

We walked together through the barn and then to the house, the rain still coming down hard outside. The world felt quieter now, the storm closing in around us. I could tell he was steeling himself for whatever my father had in store, but I could also see that stubborn spark in him—he wasn’t going to let anything break him.

I stopped at the door of the main house, watching him take a breath before he turned to face me.

“You’ll be fine,” I said, giving him a soft but reassuring look.

He nodded, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “I’ll be alright. Just... stay here, okay?”

“Always,” I said with a smile, reaching up to touch his arm. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

With a final glance, he pushed open the door and walked inside, leaving me standing on the porch, the rain soaking my jacket but doing little to cool the warmth in my chest. I wasn’t sure what my dad had planned to say, but I knew Ryan would take it head-on. It was one of the things I loved most about him

I waited a beat before walking into the kitchen. I took off my wet jacket and hat and hung them up. I walked right into another unexpected conversation. 

I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the scene unfolding in front of me. The kitchen felt too small suddenly, the air thick with tension and surprise. I had expected a quiet day, maybe some peace after the storm, but now, this?

Beth was holding a knife like a damn madwoman, pacing around the island, her eyes locked on the woman standing in nothing but my father’s button-up shirt. The woman was holding her ground, her eyes just as fierce.

"Who the fuck are you?" Beth snapped, her voice full of venom.

The woman didn’t flinch. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Beth, stop," I said, my voice more weary than anything. This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my morning.

Beth wasn’t having it, though. She picked up the knife from the counter, brandishing it as she circled the woman.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was married," the woman shouted as she backed away.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to process it all. And then it clicked. The protester. The one my father had mentioned. But I hadn't expected this. I hadn’t expected her to be standing in my kitchen, half-naked, playing house with my dad.

Just as I was about to step in, my father strolled into the kitchen, looking unfazed.

"Here’s a situation I couldn’t have dreamed up in a month of Sundays," he muttered, glancing at both women. "These are my daughters," he motioned to Beth, then to me, "That one can be a little overprotective. Put the knife down, honey."

Beth wasn’t having it, though. "Dad, if you’re gonna hire a hooker, would you at least let me get you a good one?" she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

I stared at her, feeling my blood run cold. "Beth," I said, my voice tight, trying to smooth things over.

"I do not have the energy for this," Dad said, his voice calm but resigned. "She’s a guest in our house."

"I’m calling an Uber," the woman shot back, already pulling her phone from her pocket.

"I don’t think so," I muttered under my breath, too stunned to do anything else.

The woman—what was her name?—turned to my father, her expression shifting to something less defensive. "Can you drive me into town?" she asked, her voice quieter now. "After I get dressed."

Dad looked at her for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "I’ll drive you wherever you want to go in just a minute." He didn’t seem bothered by it at all. If anything, he looked almost... satisfied?

She pulled my father into an aggressive kiss then turned and walked down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the house. Dad stood there, his face falling into a look of exhaustion.

"I’m too old for this shit," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I’m too old for her and I’m too old for that look y’all are giving me. I’m just too old for all of it."

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. "You weren’t too old for some of it," I muttered under my breath.

Dad glared at me but didn’t respond. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Y’all be nice to her," he said with a hint of finality. "She held a protest at the Livestock office, threw a rock at your brother, got thrown in jail, and I bailed her out for it."

I raised an eyebrow. "You didn’t mention the rock throwing when you told me about the protester, Dad."

Beth smirked from the other side of the room. "Bet he also didn’t mention he was bringing her home to fuck her," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Beth!" I shouted, the irritation now flooding my voice. I took a calming breath, “Dad?” 

"What?" Dad responded, his tone sharp.

"Ryan’s waiting for you in your office," I said, trying to get this mess over with.

Dad sighed again, clearly at his wit’s end, and gave a quick nod. "Alright, I’ll go handle this." He turned and walked toward the door, leaving Beth and I standing in the kitchen. I could still hear her laughter ringing in my ears, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made me feel better. It was dark, cutting.

"Well, that was something," I muttered, finally sitting down at the table, feeling the weight of the morning settle on me.

“What’s your cowboy doing here?” Beth asked turning the focus on me and not the woman half my father’s age who just waltzed through our house like she fucking owned the place.

“Dad wanted to talk to him, not sure what about?” I sat down at the island.

Beth’s gaze didn’t leave the hallway, her tone as casual as ever. It was almost as if she was in on some joke that I wasn’t a part of. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to know or if it was better to stay out of it. But, of course, curiosity gnawed at me.

“Don’t worry about the cowboy. It’s all part of the ritual.” 

“What ritual?” I asked, leaning forward just a little, trying to gauge her response.

Beth smirked, taking a sip from her coffee, her eyes twinkling with that knowing gleam. “It’s better if I let you figure it out on your own,” she replied cryptically.

I rolled my eyes, but it didn’t stop the small knot of tension tightening in my chest. I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed by the lack of explanation or by the fact that she had such control over the situation. She could always manipulate the environment to her advantage, and in this moment, it seemed like she was just having fun watching me stumble through the confusion.

I glanced down the hall where my father had gone, briefly considering if I should follow him. But no, I didn’t need to get caught in whatever mess he was dealing with—especially if it involved that woman. Instead, I focused on the more immediate question at hand.

“Is it too early to start drinking?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from whatever Beth was alluding to. The last thing I wanted was to dwell on the absurdity of it all.

Beth gave me a look, as if considering my question seriously, before grinning. “It’s never too early,” she said with a shrug, her tone as dry as the Montana air.

I let out a small laugh, though it didn’t reach my eyes. The situation with my father and the protester was a lot to process, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face any of it. A drink might help clear my head—if only for a little while.

“Good,” I said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey that was always conveniently within reach. As I poured the amber liquid into a glass, I found myself wondering what exactly was going on behind those closed doors with my father and Ryan. What kind of "ritual" was I walking into?

Beth’s smirk didn’t help ease my growing sense of unease, but at least the drink in my hand might numb it—for now.

“I’ve got a meeting,” Beth said as she grabbed her purse, glancing back toward me with that mischievous smile of hers. “Make sure the hooker doesn’t spend the night.”

“They charge extra for that, right?” I couldn’t help teasing her, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.

Beth laughed, a sharp, dry sound that echoed in the kitchen, before she turned and left without a second glance, disappearing out the door. I was left there with my whiskey and a head full of questions. The whole scene felt surreal, the tension hanging thick in the air like the scent of smoke after a wildfire. I was still processing my father’s unexpected guest—and everything that came with her.

Just as I took a long sip of whiskey to chase away the unease creeping up my spine, I heard footsteps behind me. A familiar voice broke the silence.

“Hey,” Ryan’s voice was low and apologetic as he approached, “Sorry, didn’t think that would take that long.”

I sighed, setting my glass down on the bar with a clink. “Yeah, sorry we had a little drama that delayed your meeting,” I muttered, the words coming out more bitter than I intended. I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to shake the image of my father’s protester from my mind. “So, what’s going on with you and my dad? Should I be worried?”

Ryan stepped closer, his arms sliding around me as he pulled me into his chest, warm and solid. “No, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “He gave me the keys to the trapper cabin. Thought you’d like to spend the night up there.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. The trapper cabin? That was a place I hadn’t thought about in years. It was tucked away, isolated—a place my dad only really offered to the people he trusted most.

“My father is so full of surprises today,” I said with a chuckle, looking up at him with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Ryan’s warmth was comforting, but the situation still felt a little too surreal to fully digest.

Ryan smirked and kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, well, when he finally likes someone, he does it all in one go. Just don’t take too long to get ready. We’ll have to get going before the rain comes down harder.”

I took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his presence sink in. Maybe the cabin would give me the space I needed to clear my head. Between my father’s strange behavior and the tension in the air, a little peace and quiet didn’t sound half bad.

“Well,” I said after a beat, looking up at him with a mischievous grin, “I guess I can’t pass up the chance for a night at the trapper cabin.”

Ryan’s eyes lit up with that same playful energy I loved. “Good,” he said, squeezing me tighter before letting go. “Get ready, and we’ll head out. I’ll take care of everything else.”

As he walked toward the door, I watched him go, still trying to wrap my head around everything. But one thing was clear—Ryan always knew how to make the chaos fade, even if just for a little while.

I raced up the steps, determined to avoid any further encounters with the mystery woman traipsing around my father’s room. I didn’t have the patience—or the stomach—to deal with whatever was going on in there. Instead, I slipped into my own room, shutting the door behind me with a sigh before heading straight to my dresser.

I pulled open the lingerie drawer, rifling through delicate lace and silk, searching for something Ryan hadn’t seen before. Something special. A set I’d bought on a whim but never had the opportunity to wear. Tonight felt like the perfect time. My fingers brushed over the soft fabric, and I smirked to myself as I set it aside before packing the rest of my bag.

It didn’t take long before I was ready. Slipping on my coat, I slung my bag over my shoulder and hurried back down the steps, excitement bubbling in my chest. The chaos inside the house faded into the background the moment I stepped onto the porch.

Ryan rode up just then, reins in one hand, his other resting easily on the saddle horn as he tugged my horse alongside him. The sight of him—completely at ease, one with the animal beneath him—made my breath catch for just a second. He belonged there, in the saddle, like he’d been born on the back of a horse.

The way he moved, the way his body adjusted effortlessly to every shift, every step—there was something about it that made me stop and stare. Almost in awe. Ryan had this quiet confidence, a natural grace that only came from years in the saddle. And damn if it didn’t make my heart race a little faster.

He caught me watching, his lips tugging into a knowing smirk as he rode closer. “You ready, baby?” he asked, voice smooth and easy, like he didn’t have a clue how good he looked up there.

I swallowed, forcing myself to snap out of it. “Yeah,” I nodded, stepping down off the porch toward him. “More than ready.”

We rode together up to the cabin, the quiet night wrapping around us like a familiar embrace. The only sounds were the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the dirt trail and the occasional rustling of wind through the trees. It was a comfortable silence, the kind we’d settled into so easily over time. Sometimes, words weren’t necessary—we just wanted to exist together, side by side, feeling the steady presence of the other.

I glanced over at Ryan, catching the way he looked at me with that easy, lopsided smile—the one that made my heart melt no matter how many times I saw it. The one that made me feel like I was the only thing in his world that mattered.

As we reached the cabin, he swung down first, his movements fluid and practiced. He turned to me, reaching up, his strong hands settling around my waist as he helped me down from the saddle. His grip lingered, his thumbs brushing against my sides in a slow, deliberate way that sent a shiver up my spine.

"Baby, I’ll get the horses settled," he said, his voice low and warm. "You go on inside."

For a second, I stayed there, my hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the solid strength beneath my palms. I thought about arguing, about insisting on helping, but the way he was looking at me—like he wanted me to go inside so he could take care of me—made me nod instead.

"Okay," I murmured, my voice softer than I intended.

He gave my waist a final squeeze before letting go, turning to lead the horses toward the small shelter beside the cabin. I watched him for a moment before stepping onto the porch, pushing open the door, and stepping inside. The warmth of the cabin greeted me instantly, and I took a deep breath, already feeling at home.

Tonight, it was just us.

I knelt by the fireplace, striking a match and touching the flame to the kindling. The fire crackled to life, casting a flickering glow across the cabin walls, chasing away the chill that lingered in the air. I stretched my hands toward the warmth, but it wasn’t just the cold I was trying to shake.

Something about this felt different. Like maybe tonight wasn’t just about us stealing a quiet moment away from the chaos of the ranch. Maybe it was about something more. Something unspoken.

I bit my lip, pushing the thought aside as I turned my gaze toward the door. The heavy wooden frame creaked as it swung open, and Ryan stepped inside, shaking the damp from his hat before setting it on the table. His eyes found mine instantly, dark and unreadable in the firelight.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t press. I just watched as he locked the door behind him, toeing off his boots and shrugging out of his jacket. Whatever this was, I’d let him do it his way. However he needed.

Because this moment wasn’t just about me—it was about him too.

I slid my arms around his waist, looking up at him. “Now you don’t have to worry about my Dad across the hall or waking the boys up with your antics.” 

“My antics?” he smirked down at me, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, “If I recall it was you that climbed into my bunk.”

“I’d do it again, in a fucking heartbeat,” I stepped up on my toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

Ryan’s hands settled at my waist, his thumbs tracing slow circles against my hips. “Good to know,” he murmured against my lips before deepening the kiss, his smirk still lingering in the way he moved against me.

The fire crackled behind us, filling the cabin with its golden warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat simmering between us.

His fingers tightened at my waist as he pulled me flush against him, his voice low and teasing. “So, does this mean I get to be as loud as I want tonight?”

I let out a soft laugh, sliding my hands up his chest. “I think you earned that right.”

“Damn right, I did,” he growled before lifting me off my feet, carrying me straight toward the bed.

I felt his hands roaming my body as his lips pressed against mine. I pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss, I murmured, “Hold that thought.” And wiggled myself out from under him. “I’ll be right back.” 

He chuckled and rolled to his back as I made my way the bathroom, bag in tow. 

I glanced at myself in the mirror, my hair stuck to the side of my face from the rain. I wasn’t prepared in the slightest for a wild romantic night. I looked at the door, he was. And he wanted me, wet hair and all. 

I slipped out of my jeans and top, then changed into the sheer pink nightie I’d brought with matching cheeky boy shorts. I adjusted my boobs and looked at myself again. 

Better.

I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands over the soft fabric before running my fingers through my damp hair, trying to make it look at least somewhat intentional. Not that it mattered. The way Ryan looked at me, I could’ve walked out there in an old t-shirt, and he’d still want me just the same.

Still, this was different.

I turned toward the door, my pulse picking up as I reached for the handle.

The moment I stepped back into the room, Ryan propped himself up on his elbows, his gaze raking over me in slow appreciation. His easy smirk faded, replaced with something darker, hungrier.

“Jesus, baby,” he murmured, sitting up fully. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

I smiled, feeling a little bolder under his heated stare. “That depends,” I teased, taking a slow step closer. “Is it working?”

Ryan didn’t answer with words. Instead, he reached for me, his hands finding my hips as he pulled me onto the bed with him. His voice was rough as he whispered against my skin.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his arms as we shifted further onto the bed.

Ryan hovered over me, his gaze roaming over every inch of me, dark and intent. The heat in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine, anticipation curling in my stomach.

“I plan on it,” he murmured against my lips before claiming them again, the kiss deep and consuming. His hands skimmed over the soft fabric of my nightgown, teasing, exploring, until he cupped my breast in his palm. His thumb brushed over my nipple in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing it to a hardened peak.

A breathy moan slipped from my lips as my back arched instinctively, pressing myself into his touch, silently pleading for more.

His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, his voice rough with need. “I love the sounds you make, baby.”

The slow grind of his hips against mine sent a fresh wave of heat through me, the hard press of him unmistakable even through the denim of his jeans. The friction of the rough fabric against my aching core pulled another moan from my lips, my fingers tightening in his hair as he kissed along my jaw, his breath hot against my skin.

His mouth trailed lower, finding the sensitive spot at the base of my throat, then lower still. He flicked his tongue over my nipple through the sheer fabric of my nightgown, teasing until I whimpered beneath him. His lips curved against my skin before he worked his way further down, each kiss deliberate, each touch a promise.

When he reached the hem of my nightgown, he pushed it up with agonizing slowness, exposing the bare skin of my stomach. His mouth followed the path of his hands, lips and tongue tasting and teasing, lingering just above the waistband of my panties. My breath hitched, anticipation curling deep in my belly as his fingers traced the lace, his warm breath fanning over my skin.

His fingers traced lazy circles over the satin and lace, his touch featherlight yet devastating. “So pretty,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Almost don’t want to take them off you.” His smirk was wicked as he pressed a lingering kiss to my inner thigh, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin.

“Ryan,” I whimpered, my breath catching as I lifted my hips, seeking more, needing more.

He chuckled, low and knowing, his hands firm on my hips, holding me in place. “Patience, baby,” he teased, his lips following the curve of my thigh, his fingers slipping just beneath the delicate lace, promising and torturous all at once.

“Stop teasing me,” I groaned. 

“You know I’m gonna take care of you,” he smirked against my skin. His fingers slipped further, finally touching my bare skin with the lightest of touches. He chuckled softly as I squirmed under him, needing more. 

“Please…” I looked down at him, my fingers curing in his hair. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the delicate lace gave way under his grip, the sound of tearing fabric making my pulse race. My fingers curled tighter in his hair as his mouth found me, his tongue gliding over my most sensitive spot with a slow, deliberate stroke. The groan that rumbled from his chest sent a shiver through me, the vibration only adding to the pleasure building inside me.

“Fuck, Ryan,” I breathed, my back arching off the bed as he gripped my thighs, holding me exactly where he wanted me. He didn’t rush—he never did. He savored every moment, every reaction, teasing and worshiping until I was trembling beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His fingers dug into my flesh pulling me tighter to him as he buried his face deeper between my thighs. My head rolled back, my eyes squeezed shut as I felt the rush of pleasure rippling through me. My juices coated his lips and tongue as he devoured me. 

I felt his eyes on me, watching as I gave myself over to the intensity of his touch, his tongue. He waited until I was starting to reach a second peak before he kissed his way back up my body. I was still trembling beneath him when his lips grazed my neck, “I got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His body pressed against mine, his heat searing into me as he nipped at the sensitive skin of my neck. My breath hitched when his hand trailed down my side, his touch grounding me even as my body still trembled from the aftershocks of pleasure.

I reached for him, fingers fumbling at his belt, desperate to feel more of him, to close the distance between us. He caught my wrist, pinning it above my head as his lips brushed over mine. “Not yet,” he smirked, his breath hot against my lips. “I wanna take my time with you.”

A frustrated whimper left me, and he chuckled, rolling his hips against mine, letting me feel just how much he was holding back. “Patience, baby,” he murmured, before capturing my lips in a kiss that stole the last of my restraint.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the cool metal of his belt pressing into my stomach as I rolled my hips. The friction sent another ripple through me. 

“Please, take your pants off,” I pleaded, “I want to feel you. You’re making me crazy.”

Ryan groaned, his restraint hanging by a thread as he pressed his forehead against mine. “You’re already crazy, baby,” he teased, his voice low and thick with hunger. But even as he said it, his hands moved to his belt, the metal buckle clinking as he unfastened it.

I bit my lip, watching as he slid his jeans down, kicking them off along with his boxers. My breath hitched as he settled back over me, his warmth, his hardness pressing right where I needed him most.

“Better?” he asked, his lips ghosting over mine.

I answered by rolling my hips again, a desperate little whimper escaping my lips. “Much.”

“Glad to accommodate you,” he responded with a hard thrust, rolling his hips so he was buried to the hilt, letting out a loud groan, as my walls tightened around him. 

I gasped, my fingers clawing at his back as he stretched me, filled me completely. My body arched into his, desperate to take him even deeper.

“Ryan,” I moaned, my breath coming in shaky pants. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wider as he set a slow, deep rhythm that had me seeing stars.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips tracing the curve of my jaw before capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. His pace quickened, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through me, pushing me higher, closer to the edge.

I broke the kiss, my head falling back against the pillow. “Don’t stop,” I begged, my nails raking down his back, leaving marks he’d wear for days.

“Not a chance,” he growled, driving into me harder, deeper, until the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, and I shattered beneath him with a loud cry. His body tensed above me, his grip on my hips tightening as he buried himself deep one last time. A low, guttural groan escaped his lips as he spilled into me, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

I held onto him, my fingers tracing the damp skin of his back as we both caught our breath. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my lips as he pressed a lazy, lingering kiss there.

“Damn,” he muttered with a breathless chuckle, rolling to the side and pulling me with him. “Every fucking time I’m inside of you I can’t stop myself.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” I murmured as I buried my face in his neck. 

I shimmied out of the ripped fabric that used to be my lace panties and placed them on his chest, “I guess I won’t wear my good underwear anymore.”

He laughed, his fingers brushing through my hair as the warmth of our bodies and the lingering high of pleasure settled between us. The rain outside had eased into a soft patter against the cabin’s roof, and for a moment, everything felt perfectly still.

Ryan picked up the torn lace, twirling it between his fingers with a smug grin. “Can’t make any promises, baby,” he said, “Might have to start buying you more.”

I rolled my eyes, stretching out against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm. His fingers trailed absentmindedly down my spine, tracing lazy patterns against my skin.

The rain outside softened into a rhythmic lull, the fire casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls. The warmth of the cabin wrapped around us, sealing us in our own little world.

“Feels good up here,” I murmured, pressing a kiss against his collarbone.

He hummed in agreement, his grip tightening slightly around my waist. “Just you, me, and the storm,” he said. “Wouldn’t mind keeping you here a while.”

I smiled against his skin, my fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “Not sure my dad would appreciate you stealing me away.”

Ryan chuckled, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Your dad’s the one who sent us up here. Think he knew exactly what he was doing.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “You think?”

“Oh, I know.” He smirked, pulling me on top of him in one swift motion. “And I plan on making the most of it.”

“You ready to go again already, cowboy?” I smiled down at him as I straddled his hips. I grabbed the hem of my gown and pulled it up over my head.

Ryan’s hands found my hips, his grip firm as he looked up at me with that easy, hungry grin. “You’re sittin’ on me like that, darlin’, and askin’ if I’m ready?” He let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing the curves of my bare skin. “What do you think?”

I tossed my nightgown to the floor, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed over me. The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the dark desire in his eyes.

“Guess I won’t make you wait then,” I murmured, leaning down to press my lips to his. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer as his mouth claimed mine with a deep, slow kiss.

His body tensed beneath me, his desire unmistakable as I rolled my hips against him, teasing us both. His breath hitched, and his fingers dug into my thighs.

I slipped my hands between us, fingers wrapping around his hardened length. I locked eyes with his as I raised up positioning him at my entrance then I sank slowly down on him. I bit my lip, savoring the way he filled me. 

Ryan let out a deep, guttural groan, his hands gripping my hips tighter as I took him inch by inch. His head fell back against the pillow, eyes dark with need as he watched me move.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his fingers digging into my skin. “You feel so damn good.”

I let out a soft moan, rolling my hips as I adjusted to him, feeling every thick, pulsing inch stretching me just right. My hands flattened against his chest, nails lightly scraping over his skin as I started to move.

He met me halfway, thrusting up to meet my slow, deliberate movements, his hands guiding me, urging me to take him deeper. Heat pooled low in my belly, each slow grind sending another wave of pleasure coursing through me.

“Ride me, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice rough and breathless. “Just like that.”

I obeyed, rolling my hips faster, harder, chasing the pleasure that built between us. His eyes never left me, locked onto mine, watching every gasp, every shudder that wracked my body.

I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his, swallowing his groan as the pressure coiled tight, ready to snap. “Ryan…” I whimpered, my fingers gripping his shoulders.

“I got you, baby,” he promised, flipping me onto my back in one fluid motion, his hips slamming into mine as he took control.

My nails scraped marks down his shoulders and the pressure snapped. My body tightened around him as I started to quake beneath him. Each stroke, each hard thrust pushed me further and further over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he cried out as he slammed hard and deep, his hips rolling into mine as he came hard. I let out a deep moan as I felt the hot spurts of his release filling me full. 

Ryan's body trembled above me, his breath ragged as he rode out his release, buried deep inside me. His arms shook slightly as he held himself up, his forehead dropping to mine while we both fought to catch our breath.

I wrapped my arms around his back, my fingers tracing the fresh scratches along his shoulders. His weight was comforting, grounding me as the aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through my body.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured against my lips, pressing a lazy kiss there.

I let out a breathless chuckle. “More than okay.”

He grinned, shifting to the side and pulling me with him so I was draped over his chest. The room was quiet except for the steady patter of rain outside and the sound of our slowing heartbeats.

Ryan’s fingers trailed lazy circles along my spine. “Every time with you, it’s like that,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Like I’m never gonna get enough.”

I smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “Good, because I don’t want you to.”

His arms tightened around me, holding me close as we lay tangled together in the dim firelight, the warmth of our bodies melting into one.

My fingers traced the ‘Y’ on his chest, reminding me of everything we’d been through to get here. He was a part of me and I was a part of him. 

Ryan caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my fingertips before placing it back over his heart. His pulse was steady beneath my palm, a grounding rhythm that tied me to him in ways words never could.

“You still thinking?” he murmured, his voice low and rough with exhaustion.

“Just remembering,” I admitted, my fingers continuing to trace the scar that marked him—a reminder of the past, of battles fought and won, of everything that had led us to this moment.

He let out a soft hum, his other hand running through my hair. “Hope you’re remembering the good parts.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. “Only the best parts.”

Ryan’s lips curled into that easy smile of his, the one that always made my heart skip. “Then I guess we’ll just have to keep making more of those.”

I smirked, shifting up to straddle his hips again. “Good thing I’m not tired yet.”

He groaned, his hands settling on my waist. “Baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

I leaned down, brushing my lips over his. “Then I’ll make sure you go out happy. I think you and I should take advantage of that big bathtub in there.” I nodded my head in the direction of the bathroom. 

“How can I say no to that?” he murmured as he pulled me down for another kiss. I slid off of him, inching slowly off the bed. 

I wrinkled my nose as I looked at his feet, “I can’t believe you fucked me with your socks still on.”

“Baby, I had other things to focus on besides my feet,” his hand slid around my waist as he stood behind me letting out a chuckle, “and I’ve fucked you with my pants still on.”

I turned in his arms, laughing as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “True, but that was different.”

Ryan smirked, tilting his head. “How so?”

I traced a finger down his chest, stopping just above his navel. “It was hot.”

His laughter rumbled against my palm before he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “Everything I do to you is hot.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. “Well, you’re definitely not getting in that tub with socks on.”

Ryan smirked, stepping back just enough to tug them off and toss them aside. “Happy now?”

I gave an approving nod, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the bathroom. The large tub sat beneath a window that overlooked the darkened landscape, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the room. I leaned over to start the water, feeling the heat warm my fingers as the tub began to fill.

Ryan came up behind me, his hands gliding over my hips before settling on my waist. “You know,” he murmured, lips grazing my shoulder, “we might get clean, but I can’t promise we’ll behave.”

I turned to face him, stepping backward into the warm water, letting it swirl around my calves as I held his gaze. “Good,” I smirked. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Thirty

It was the next afternoon when Travis showed back up at the ranch. He wasn’t kidding about getting the best of the best. Each horse and rider had stacks of credentials to back up all the flash with. 

“No low-cut shirt today, Alex?” Travis grinned as he led our new horse into the arena to show off. 

“Figure I should save it for someone who would appreciate it,” I called up to him.

“Oh, I appreciate it,” he smirked as he climbed up on the horse. 

“You appreciate yourself more,” I shot back, folding my arms as I leaned against the fence.

Travis chuckled as he adjusted his reins. “Damn right. No one loves me like me.”

Kayce shook his head beside me. “You sure about putting him on the road, Dad?”

Dad smirked, watching as Travis settled the horse with an ease that only came from years of experience. “Man knows his job.”

And he did. The second Travis gave the cue, the horse took off, moving like poetry in motion. Every step was precise, every turn sharp and controlled. He made it look effortless, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the horse was reading his mind.

“Goddamn,” Rip muttered under his breath.

“Yeah,” I agreed, watching closely. “That’s the kind of horse I need.”

Travis slowed the horse to a stop, patting its neck before glancing back at me. “You want to take him for a test ride?”

I was already stepping up onto the fence. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“Try not to fall off,” he teased, sliding out of the saddle.

I snatched the reins from him as I swung into the seat. “Try not to be jealous when I do it better.”

"I’ll try to contain myself," Travis chuckled, watching me closely as I took the reins.

I clicked my tongue, giving the horse a gentle nudge with my heels. "Alright, big boy, let’s see what you got." The horse’s muscles twitched beneath me, his energy palpable as we began to move.

The animal was pure power—every stride was like a pulse of raw strength. But he was responsive, obedient to my every shift and click. I guided him right, feeling him gather speed, then left, his body bending with precision. He practically cornered on a dime, as if he’d been trained to read every small movement I made.

I wasn't Travis. I didn’t have his natural flair or seamless grace, but there was something just as satisfying about the control I had over this beast. As we moved together, I felt a rush—an exhilarating, almost addictive feeling. The wind whipped past me, and for a brief moment, everything else faded.

It wasn’t just about riding; it was about freedom. The kind of freedom you could only find when you were in sync with something as wild and untamed as the horse beneath you.

The world slowed down, the dirt kicked up behind us in a haze, and I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time. The thought of the road ahead, the opportunities, the legacy—it all felt within reach, just like the power beneath me.

I glanced over at Travis, who had a smirk on his face, but his eyes showed a hint of approval. “Not bad, Alex. You might just make a real cowboy out of you yet.”

I guided the colt into a steady gallop, feeling his power beneath me, his movements fluid and responsive. Travis leaned on the fence, watching with a smirk as he gestured toward me.

“So I got Alex on this Metallic Cat colt,” he said, nodding in my direction.

I slowed the horse to a trot, running a soothing hand along his neck. “You let him call you that?” I muttered to the colt. “Don’t worry, big guy, we’ll figure out a better name for you.”

Travis let out a bark of laughter. “Twilight Sparkle was already trademarked,” he shot back.

I rolled my eyes but kept my focus on the horse beneath me. He was a hell of a ride—athletic, smart, and built for greatness.

Travis turned his attention to my father. “But listen, I want y’all to buy this one and put him on the road. I don’t know how big of a name you’re looking to make, but if you really want to shake things up, you oughta let me call Bobby Patton and see if he’ll sell you a share of Metallic. Now that would make a splash.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed as he considered it, but his smirk gave him away. “When you jump in a pool for me, Travis, you do a cannonball.”

Travis grinned like he’d been waiting for this moment. “I’ll do it,” he said without hesitation. “Cannonball it is.”

He wasn’t bluffing—Travis played to win. And if we were going all in, he was ready to make damn sure we didn’t just make a name for ourselves. We’d make history.

I leaned against the railing, watching as Rip made his way toward the arena, a wild-haired kid trailing beside him. It was like looking through a window into the past—like seeing Rip himself all those years ago when he first stepped onto the ranch.

After a brief, quiet conversation with my father, Rip gave the kid a nod and gestured toward the barn. No fuss, no ceremony. Just like that, we had ourselves a new stall cleaner.

The kid’s shoulders were tense, his steps hesitant, but there was something in his eyes—a mix of wariness and quiet determination. I’d seen that look before. Hell, we all had it once.

Rip didn’t slow his stride, and the boy hurried to keep up. He’d learn quick enough: you either kept pace around here, or you got left behind.

I saw everything that happened on the ranch. Even when no one else noticed, I did.

Jimmy had tried to ride again—the same day our whole world fell apart. And now, he was back, moving stiffly, a brace strapped tight to keep his body aligned. He wasn’t going to ride broncs again, not for a long time. Maybe not ever.

Dad wasn’t keeping him here. He was sending him to Texas with Travis.

Jimmy sat at the bunkhouse table, just listening as everyone chatted. His shoulders slumped under the weight of disappointment, of failure. He was leaving the only home he’d ever known, and he knew it.

I watched him, studying the quiet defeat in his face. It would be good for him, I thought. Texas would strip him down, break him apart, and build him back up the right way. It would make a man out of the boy sitting across from me.

“Shit, Jimmy, you look like you need a beer,” Jake said, popping the cap off his bottle. He squinted at him. “Can he even drink?”

“He shouldn’t drink,” Mia cut in before Jimmy could open his mouth, arms crossed tight like she was guarding him from himself.

Jake shrugged. “All right, whatever. More for us.”

“Did you see those fucking horses today?” Ryan asked, leaning back in his chair. “Goddamn, what I would give to ride one of those sons of bitches.”

“Careful, cowboy,” I smirked, tilting my beer to my lips. “That’s a lot of power to have between your legs.”

Ryan turned to me, eyes flashing with mischief. “Baby, you know exactly how much power I have between my legs.” He pulled me closer, his hand settling low on my hip.

Jake let out a loud laugh. “You’d get your ass dashboarded right into the dirt.”

“Bullshit!” Ryan shot back. “Fuck you, coming from a guy who gets bucked off a seesaw.”

Across the bunkhouse, Teeter’s head snapped up. “I heard ridin’, and I heard fuckin’,” she drawled. “What are we doin’?”

Colby didn’t miss a beat. “Playin’ cards.”

—-------------------

I brushed past Ryan as he stood at my bathroom sink, toothbrush in his mouth, and stepped into the shower. We’d found our rhythm, as much as two people like us could—our lives messy, tangled, but still moving in sync.

“Baby, I should probably sleep in the bunkhouse,” he called over the sound of running water.

I lathered up, letting the hot spray cascade over my body. “Why the hell would you want to sleep there when you can be here with me?”

Ryan spat into the sink and leaned against the vanity, arms crossed, his eyes flickering to my silhouette through the fogged-up glass. He didn’t even try to hide that he was watching me, and I smirked to myself as I ran my hands over my skin.

“It’s just—” he hesitated, shaking his head like he needed to clear his thoughts. “Your dad is across the damn hall.”

I rinsed off and stepped out, reaching for a towel. Wrapping it around me, I met his gaze in the mirror. “He knows you’re mine, cowboy. And he knows I want you here. You’re not some stranger sneaking around, taking advantage of his little girl.”

Ryan scoffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah? Then why does he look at me like I’ve corrupted you?”

I laughed softly, stepping closer, slipping my arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms. “You’re reading too much into it. He looks at Rip the same way half the time—and Rip and Beth have been off and on for twenty years.” I tilted my head, pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw. “Besides, if you’re sleeping in the bunkhouse, then I’m sleeping in the bunkhouse.”

Ryan groaned, closing his eyes for a second before resting his forehead against mine. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

“Maybe,” I grinned, “but you’d die happy.”

“Let’s get out there and do some cowboy shit,” Ryan said, flashing me that easy grin that always made trouble seem worth it.

We dressed quickly, moving in sync, and by the time we stepped outside, the cool morning air had shaken off the last traces of sleep. The ranch was already alive with the sound of hooves, the murmur of voices, and the rhythmic clatter of work being done.

The first job of the day was cleaning the arena—Travis was coming back to show off his horses. I had my own reasons for being out there, though. Yesterday, I’d been too caught up in my father’s vision, too focused on the future he wanted to build, to really take a good look at the pair Travis had set aside for me. That was changing today.

The gear I’d ordered for the trick had finally arrived, and now, with the morning light creeping over the valley, there was only one thing on my mind.

I wanted to see if I could still do it.

I stood by my horse, absently running my hand along his neck as I waited for the others to get ready. Something caught my eye, and I frowned, stepping closer. The cinch was all wrong—loose in places it shouldn’t be, twisted where it needed to be flat.

“Hey, kid,” I called over to Beth’s new stray, motioning him closer. “Tell me what’s wrong with this.”

He hesitated, eyes darting over the saddle like the answer might magically appear. “Um…”

I sighed. “When I asked you to saddle a horse for me, you didn’t mention you didn’t know how.” My tone wasn’t angry, just firm. “If I hadn’t double-checked, I could’ve been hurt. Or someone else could have. It’s okay not to know things, but you have to speak up. Me or one of the boys will show you how.”

“Gotcha,” he muttered, nodding.

“It’s not ‘gotcha,’” Rip’s voice cut through the morning air like a whipcrack. I glanced over my shoulder to see him standing behind me, arms crossed, wearing that unreadable expression that usually made grown men straighten up real quick. “It’s ‘Yes, ma’am’ or ‘Yes, sir.’ Learn some fucking manners.”

“Yes, sir,” the kid responded, his posture stiffening like Rip’s presence alone added a few pounds of weight to his spine.

I loosened the straps, smoothing them out with practiced hands, then motioned for him to watch closely. “Alright, see this? You want it flat, snug, but not cutting off his damn circulation. Always double-check it before you step up. A loose cinch can land you in the dirt real fast.”

He nodded, watching intently as I secured the saddle properly. I had to give him credit—he was paying attention.

“What’s your name?” I asked, glancing at him.

He hesitated for a beat. “Everyone’s just been calling me ‘boy.’”

I huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, they do that,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m Alex. Beth is my sister.”

“Carter,” he finally said, standing a little taller when he said it.

“Nice to meet you, Carter,” I told him, giving his shoulder a quick pat before stepping back. “Now, go finish mucking the stalls. If you get done early, you might just get to see some fucking badass horses.”

His eyes lit up a little at that, and without another word, he turned and jogged off toward the barn, leaving me to finish up with my horse.

—---

The arena was set, the dust settled, and Gator had laid out a feast fit for a king—or at least a crew of hungry cowboys.

“Y’all wanna go look at some shit?” Teeter asked, glancing between me and Laramie.

“Sure,” I nodded, stretching my arms.

“Hell, yeah,” Laramie added, already moving before the words finished leaving her mouth.

We wandered toward the line of trailers, stopping in front of the massive, high-end 18-wheeler that had hauled in Travis’ prospects. The thing gleamed in the sunlight, looking as expensive as the bloodlines it carried.

“What did this fucking thing cost?” Teeter muttered, eyeing the rig like it personally offended her.

“That is sexy,” Laramie whistled, running a hand along the side.

“That is sexy,” I agreed, nodding my head toward the horse being led down the ramp—a stallion so finely built he could’ve been sculpted out of marble.

“What do them fucking things cost?” Teeter asked, still staring.

I smirked. “More than the fucking truck.”

Teeter let out a low whistle, shaking her head.

“This is gonna be worth watching,” Laramie grinned, her eyes lighting up as the riders swung into their saddles, adjusting their reins with the kind of easy confidence that only came from years of experience.

I smiled at her excitement, feeling the same buzz in my own chest. This wasn’t just horses. This was something bigger.

Travis led out a pair of matching brown-and-white paints, their coats gleaming under the afternoon sun. They were stunning—strong, agile, and perfectly in sync, their bits clipped together so they moved almost as one. My eyes flicked to the saddles, noticing the gear I’d bought had already been fitted to them. Travis had wasted no time.

“You ready to take them for a spin?” he asked, handing me the reins with a knowing smirk.

I exhaled, steadying the nerves buzzing under my skin. “Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em what we can do.”

Travis stepped in to help me mount the horse on the right. I settled in, adjusting my weight and feeling out the gelding beneath me. I’d been practicing, but not on these two. They didn’t know my cues, and I didn’t know their rhythm yet. Still, they followed my lead as I nudged them forward into the arena, their movements smooth and effortless.

The real test was about to begin.

I stayed seated on the horse to the right as we rounded the arena, focusing on keeping them in perfect sync. Each movement was a calculated effort, guiding them with gentle shifts, making sure they stayed together. My heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and concentration. I lengthened their reins, pushing them into a steady gallop before rising up into a standing position on the horse’s back.

The crowd’s murmurs faded into the background as I circled the arena. The wind whipped around me, my body finding its balance on the shifting back of my mount. I glanced briefly at the second horse, moving in time with the first, and pushed myself further—daring to stand on both at once.

It was when I tried to balance on both of them simultaneously that the harmony between the horses began to break. They shifted apart, their steps faltering, as if sensing the imbalance in my attempt. I felt the pull of their movements diverging, and in a split second, I lost my center of gravity.

I recovered just in time, sliding back into a seated position on the right horse, heart pounding. The horses continued moving, and I could feel the tension in the air shift. My focus sharpened. I could do this. I just had to learn how to push them both in a way they could follow—together.

I ushered the horses out of the arena, the adrenaline still buzzing through my veins. They were perfect—more than I had expected, but I couldn’t let Travis see that on my face just yet. I knew with more practice, more time working with them, I could make a real show out of these two. They were talented, responsive, and they’d only get better with me at the reins.

"Alright, I’m sold," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, as if I hadn’t just been caught in a split-second slip.

Travis laughed, a full, amused chuckle. "Girl, you’re even graceful when you’re about to fall on your ass," he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

I shot him a glare, trying to hide the smile creeping onto my face. "I meant to do that."

"Sure you did," he winked, shaking his head as he held the reins out for me. "Let’s see what you can really do when you’ve got 'em locked in."

"Just add them to the bill," I told him, letting out a deep breath as I followed him into the barn. I was still riding high off the session, but there was no time to gloat. These horses needed to settle in.

He led them into the stall, their hooves clicking softly against the barn floor. "You didn’t name them something stupid, did you?" I asked, half-joking, but a little serious. I didn’t want to end up with some ridiculous name like "Metal Cat" or whatever the fuck that horse’s name was.

He shot me a grin over his shoulder. "I’ll leave the stupid names to you," he teased, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You’re lucky I like you," I muttered, shaking my head. "Otherwise, I’d be giving them names like 'Thunderclap' and 'Hot Mess.'"

He chuckled as he patted the horse’s neck. "Well, they’ve got some class, so they’ll need a name to match."

“What about Goose and Maverick?” I asked, a grin tugging at my lips. “Top Gun.”

“Could work,” he said, giving me a quick once-over. “Now get back out there, see what else your daddy’s buying.”

“Ass,” I shot back, rolling my eyes as I walked out of the barn.

The hands were clearly in awe of the horses on display. I leaned against the fence next to Ryan, watching them. “See anything you like?”

He looked down at me, his eyes glinting. “I do now.”

“Such a charmer, cowboy,” I teased, slipping my arm around his waist as his draped over my shoulders. “Someone’s gonna snatch you up.”

“I’m already snatched, baby,” he replied with a grin that made my stomach flip.

“Those are some damn good horses right there,” I heard Jake comment, his voice full of admiration.

“Just once I’d like to ride a horse like that,” Colby sighed, watching the pair of them move with fluid grace.

Ryan shot him a sly grin. “If you tried to stop a horse like that, it’d lawn-dart you straight into a cattle trough.”

“What? No way,” Colby shot back, his voice incredulous. “Have you tried trotting past a mirror lately? You look like a drunk cat trying to fuck a football.”

Ryan blinked. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

Mia didn’t even glance at Jimmy as he asked, “Can I talk to you?” The silence between them was thick—like she didn’t want him to leave, but he couldn’t seem to get out of his own head long enough to say no.

Mia turned back to us, trying to break the tension. “Hard to believe you could sell one of those and buy a truck.”

Ryan leaned back, hands in his pockets, and smirked. “You can sell one of those and buy a house.”

I watched Jimmy walk into the barn, his movements familiar now. He’d grown up a lot since that first day, the green kid who tried to ride my horse like he knew what he was doing. But even though he’d come a long way, he still wasn’t quite there yet—not quite a man, not yet sure of his worth. Texas would show him that.

He just had to figure it out for himself, like we all did.

Travis spun his horse in tight circles, his movements smooth and effortless. I couldn’t help but watch, captivated by the skill.

“That’s a spinning motherfucker right there,” Jake muttered, impressed.

“Yee-fucking-haw,” Laramie added, her voice full of awe.

“That’s the difference between five thousand bucks and three hundred thousand right there,” Travis called back, clearly enjoying the show he was putting on.

“Travis, let me run and stop just once,” Ryan piped up, eyes gleaming with challenge.

“You bet,” Travis shot back, “For three hundred thousand dollars.”

“Come on, just once,” Ryan pressed.

“This is a ‘you break it, you buy it’ kind of situation here, brother,” Travis laughed. “and you can’t afford to buy it. Only race car drivers get to ride race cars.” He trotted over to Ethan and Jake, his voice lowering as he switched gears. “Is the gimp all packed up?”

“The gimp?” Mia’s eyebrow shot up.

“Jerry,” Travis clarified. “No, Jimmy.”

“Yeah, Jimmy’s gonna be ready to go,” Jake answered with a grin.

“We’ll get outta here around sundown,” Travis told them, turning his attention back to the rest of the crew.

“Y’all going with them?” Ryan asked, a trace of curiosity in his voice.

“Yes, sir. Right as soon as Ethan and I get the rest of these colts finished,” Jake replied, his voice steady with purpose.

“Where y’all heading first?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it out loud.

“Well, we gotta go to Scottsdale first,” Jake said, rolling the words off his tongue.

“Then we swing into Vegas, meet the cutters,” Ethan added with a grin, the excitement clear in his eyes.

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Ryan muttered, shaking his head.

“Then we gotta go to Fort Worth,” Jake finished, a spark of anticipation in his voice.

“Fuck, that’s the stockyards, man. My old stomping grounds,” Teeter laughed.

“Then we drop dipshit off at the Four Sixes,” Jake continued, shaking his head.

“He’s going to the Four Sixes?” Mia asked, her voice full of disbelief.

“He won’t last a week,” Ryan said, the certainty in his tone clear.

“Have some faith, cowboy,” I replied, giving him a teasing smirk. “Jimmy may surprise you.”

I watched Mia walk off from the corner of my eye, the tension between her and Jimmy still lingering like an unspoken truth. There was something more to the story, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig into it. 

“Be careful, Jimmy,” I said, watching him carry his bags toward Travis’ truck. “Travis is a dick, but he can teach you a lot about horses while you’re down there. When you’re ready, you can come back.”

He gave me a small nod, eyes downcast, as if he was still processing everything. I stepped forward, ready to hug him, but hesitated when I remembered all the hardware he was wearing. Instead, I extended my hand, offering him a firm handshake.

He looked at it for a moment before shaking it back, his grip surprisingly strong.

—--

I sat atop my horse, looking down at the cattle spread out before me. The whole damn herd had pinkeye.

I let out a slow breath, rubbing my jaw as I watched them blink against the irritation, heads shaking, some of them rubbing their faces against each other or the ground. This wasn’t just a headache—it was a full-blown problem. Left untreated, it’d spread fast, and before long, we’d have blind cattle stumbling around, getting themselves hurt or worse.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Hey Lloyd we’re gonna have to treat all of them.”

“Let’s push ‘em into the arena, we’ll run ‘em through the chute,” Lloyd called out. 

“You don’t want these sick sum’bitches in the arena,” Walker called back, “Let’s just doctor ‘em right here.” 

“Well, I fucking said so,” Lloyd shouted back. There had been tension between the two, building since Walker came back. Since Laramie decided it was Walker’s bed she wanted to cuddle up in and not Lloyd’s. 

“Hey I didn’t know you was boss when boss is gone,” Walker said. 

“Hey, I’m always the boss when the boss is gone,” Lloyd responded. 

I was growing tired of the back and forth, “Look, he’s right we should just take care of them here.”

“Push ‘em in the fucking arena,” Lloyd said sharply. “We start dragging them in the pasture they’ll scatter to hell and gone.” 

“If we take them in there, every animal we have will get it,” I told him. He wasn’t listening to me. Because to him I was just trying to take Walker’s side over his. 

I sat back in my saddle, lips pressing into a firm line as the herd was pushed into the arena despite every instinct telling me it was the wrong call. The cattle hesitated at first, sensing the unease in the air, but eventually, the combined effort of the riders and the dogs got them moving. Dust kicked up in thick clouds, settling on my skin and coating my throat as I watched them shuffle inside.

Lloyd and Walker were still eyeing each other like a couple of bulls ready to lock horns. The tension between them was damn near tangible, thick enough to choke on. It wasn’t just about the cattle or who was calling the shots—it was about pride, about a woman, and about the way things had changed since Walker came back.

I rolled my shoulders, gripping my reins a little tighter. “We better work fast before this turns into a bigger mess than it already is,” I said, hoping to steer the focus back to the problem at hand.

Ryan rode up beside me, tipping his hat back as he watched the cattle settle in. “Hope you got a ‘told-you-so’ locked and loaded,” he murmured. “Cause this ain’t gonna go smooth.”

I didn’t answer, but my gut told me he was right.

“Hey, Lloyd,” Rip called as he rode past the arena, “What in the fuck are you doing?”

“Running them through the chute,” Lloyd answered. 

“A couple of them have pinkeye I can see it from here,” Dad told him. 

“They all do, we gotta doctor the whole damn herd,” Lloyd responded, “Thought this would be faster.” 

“Faster ain’t better, every damn animal in this place will get it,” Rip said. 

I groaned in frustration, muttering, “I just fucking said that.” 

“You listen to me you move those fucking heifers out, and do your fucking job,” Rip shouted. 

“Let’s go, push ‘em back out,” Lloyd called. “That means you too Walker.”

“Hell, you're the boss. Hear that, boys? Boss is gonna let us do some real cowboy shit today,” Walker grinned swinging his lasso. 

I knelt over the cattle, injecting them with antibiotics as Colby marked the treated ones with a white X with chalk paint. 

The sun bore down on us as we worked, sweat dripping down my back as I moved from one sick animal to the next. The herd shifted uneasily, some of the cattle flinching under the needle, but most were too sluggish from the infection to put up much of a fight. The smell of dust, sweat, and livestock filled the air, mixing with the sharp scent of the antiseptic we were using to clean their eyes.

Ryan rode up alongside me, tipping his hat back as he watched. “You doing alright down there?” he asked.

I wiped my forearm across my forehead, smearing dirt and sweat. “Peachy,” I muttered, standing up to stretch my back before moving to the next cow.

Laramie and Teeter had joined in, keeping the herd contained as best they could while we worked. It was slow, exhausting work, but at least now we were handling it the right way.

Walker nudged Lloyd as he rode past, smirking. “See, wasn’t that hard to listen, was it?”

Lloyd shot him a look that could’ve set dry brush on fire. “You keep running that mouth and you’re gonna be missing a few teeth.”

“You sure about this?” I asked, watching Teeter stir a bubbling concoction in the crockpot. The thick aroma of spices filled the air, but I still had no idea what the hell it was. I wasn’t exactly an expert in the kitchen—cooking was about as foreign to me as a ballet recital—so I stuck to handing her whatever spices and chopped vegetables she asked for, hoping I wasn’t contributing to a disaster in the making.

“Used to make this shit all the time,” Teeter said, tossing in a handful of something dark and fragrant. “Y’all need to quit eatin’ that junk. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, looking skeptical. “You’re wasting your time, Teeter. No one’s gonna eat a thing you cooked.”

Colby groaned from his spot at the table. “When does Gator get back?”

“Thursday,” I answered.

“Thursday?” Colby’s head dropped back with a dramatic sigh. “I’m gonna be dead by then. I can already feel my organs shutting down.” He turned toward Walker, hopeful. “Walker, you know any hunger songs?”

Walker didn’t even glance up. “No.”

Teeter rolled her eyes and lifted a spoonful of whatever she’d been making, blowing on it before holding it out to me. “Tell ‘em.”

I hesitated for half a second before taking the bite. Warm, rich flavors hit my tongue, the perfect balance of heat and seasoning. I blinked in surprise and swallowed. “Shit, this is actually good.”

Colby squinted at me, unconvinced. “I think y’all are in cahoots.”

Teeter slid a full bowl in front of him, and he immediately pushed it back. “Oh, uh… no, I’m good.”

“Come on, baby,” Teeter said, nudging it back toward him. “I keep cooking, you keep not eating. I need you strong for later.” She winked.

Colby looked between her and the bowl like it might explode.

“Fuck it,” Ryan said, grabbing a bowl for himself. “I’m so hungry I’d eat anything right now.” He scooped up a big bite and shoveled it into his mouth, chewing slowly. Then his eyes went wide.

“Told you it was good,” I said, smirking.

Ryan pointed his spoon at Teeter, still chewing. “This is fucking great.”

Colby groaned, grabbing his bowl back. “If I die from this, it’s on all of y’all.”

We all watched as he reluctantly took a bite. A beat of silence, then he exhaled and went for another spoonful.

Teeter leaned back, smug. “Told y’all. Ain’t my first rodeo.”

The rest of the guys crowded around the crockpot, jostling for space as they filled their bowls with whatever the hell Teeter had cooked. The rich, savory smell filled the bunkhouse, but none of us were entirely sure what we were about to eat.

Ryan lifted a spoonful, eyeing it warily. “What do you call this?”

“Sum bits,” Teeter answered casually, ladling another heaping portion into her own bowl.

Jake, mid-bite, suddenly gagged and spit his food back into the bowl. “For fuck’s sake,” he sputtered, reaching for his water bottle.

Colby frowned. “What does that mean?”

Teeter grinned, completely unfazed. “Means it’s good for you, honey.”

Jake, still coughing, shot her a look. “Literally everything from the cow that nobody wants is in that.” He took a swig of water, swished it around his mouth, and spit it into the sink.

Ryan paused mid-chew, glancing at his bowl. “So, like…the whole cow?”

“You mean everything in the cow?” Colby asked, hesitantly poking at the contents of his bowl.

“Evidently,” Ryan shrugged and kept eating. Whatever it was, it hadn’t killed him yet.

Across the table, Ethan suddenly blanched. “Ew. I think I got an eyeball.”

Colby nearly dropped his spoon. “That’s disgusting.”

Ethan held it up for verification, and sure enough, a small, round piece of something that definitely shouldn’t be in food wobbled on his spoon.

“That’s just extra protein,” Teeter said, completely unfazed.

I shook my head, unwilling to let the mystery-meat revelation ruin my meal. I scooped a careful bowl, making damn sure I recognized everything in it before taking a bite.

“Tastes good to me,” Walker said with a shrug, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

Ryan nodded in agreement, swallowing another bite. “Hell, I ain’t gonna ask questions if it tastes this good.”

Colby sighed in defeat, finally bringing his spoon to his mouth. 

Walker carried a bowl over to Lloyd, I suppose it was meant as a peace offering. Lloyd’s face said he wasn’t interested. 

“What, you ain't eatin’?” Walker asked, his voice laced with amusement as he eyed Lloyd’s untouched bowl.

Lloyd’s glare was sharp enough to cut through steel.

 “You wanna fucking dance, old man?”

The tension snapped the second Walker let his spoon clatter to the floor. Before he could react, Lloyd’s boot connected with his ribs, sending him sprawling across the room.

“Hey! Fucking stop it!” I yelled, but there was no stopping it now.

Walker recovered fast, launching himself at Lloyd with fists flying. He tackled him to the floor, his knuckles slamming into Lloyd’s chest and jaw with brutal efficiency. The scrape of boots against the floor and the sharp grunt of impact filled the room as they went at it like two bulls in a pen, too far gone to hear reason.

Another punch from Lloyd sent Walker hurtling straight into me. I barely had time to react before the impact knocked me backward over a chair. My head hit the ground hard, the sharp crack of pain exploding in my skull. Walker landed right on top of me, driving the air from my lungs with a force that left me gasping.

“Fuck—” I wheezed, trying to push him off.

Ryan and Colby were already on Lloyd, wrestling him back before he could go in for another swing. He fought against their grip, his chest heaving, still itching for blood.

Walker scrambled to his feet, jaw clenched, eyes burning with fury. Jake and Ethan stepped in, blocking his path before he could throw himself back into the fight. The room was a powder keg, one wrong move away from exploding all over again.

Then the bunkhouse door slammed open.

Rip stormed inside, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. The second I saw the look on his face, I knew shit was about to go from bad to worse.

“What’s the rule about fighting, Lloyd?” His voice was deadly calm, the kind that made your stomach drop before the real storm hit.

Lloyd barely had time to straighten before Rip’s fist came flying. The brutal punch connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling over the table in a crash of dishes and curses.

“Goddamn you for making me do this,” Rip muttered, shaking out his hand as he loomed over Lloyd’s crumpled form. The room went deathly silent. No one dared to move.

“You alright, baby?” Ryan extended his hand to help me up. 

“I’ve had better, nights,” I told him, rubbing my head. 

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the bunkhouse, staring at the brand on my chest. The skin around it was red, irritated, and tender to the touch. But it was there—a permanent reminder of what I did, what we did.

“Put some of this on it, baby,” he murmured, stepping behind me. He started to hand me the burn cream but hesitated, deciding to apply it himself. His fingers were gentle, careful, as he smoothed the cool ointment over the raw skin, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“I wish you hadn’t,” he admitted, his gaze dark and wistful as it trailed over the mark. “They were perfect.”

“So was yours,” I countered, my eyes drifting to the red ‘Y’ seared into his chest. A symbol of everything we had given and everything we had lost.

Around us, the others took turns applying the cream to their own brands, each one wearing the same silent acknowledgment of what had been done. We were connected now, tied to this place in a deeper, darker way than we had been just days ago. A brotherhood forged in pain, in loyalty, in blood.

I winced slightly as my bra strap settled against the edge of the ‘Y’ before buttoning up my shirt, the sting a lingering reminder of the cost we had paid.

The door swung open, and the barrel racers stumbled in. Their gazes flickered to us, their expressions shifting. Laramie’s eyes widened in awe, fascinated by the marks on our skin. Mia, on the other hand, curled her lip, disgust flickering across her face before she turned away.

I met her stare head-on in the mirror, unflinching. Let her look. Let them all look.

“How’s your face?” I looked over at Teeter as she pulled on her ball cap.

“I think it’ll be fuckable soon enough,” she cast a smirk in Colby’s direction. I saw how the nightmare they’d experienced brought them closer. “Else I’ll just have to have him fuck me from behind.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “I knew you’d wear him down eventually.” I cast my eyes over at Ryan. “Cowboys around here are hard to crack, but when they let you in, they don’t let you go.”

—-------

It was supposed to be a lazy day at the ranch. The cattle were grazing in the field they were meant to be in. Beth and Dad had gone to Helena to meet with the Governor and Jamie to see what could be done with the Market Equities threats.

Lazy days don’t last.

They never do.

My phone rang. Rip. I could count the number of times he called me on one hand.

“You find the thing you were looking for?” I asked. I knew he was going to propose to my sister. He wanted his dead mother’s ring to do it with. It was sweet in a morbid kind of way. The kind of sentiment Beth would appreciate.

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice tight. Then after a beat, “Have you talked to your Dad or Beth?”

I frowned. “Not since they left. Why?”

“I’ve been trying to reach them, but they ain’t answering.”

“Dad hates his phone,” I tried to reassure him. “You know that.”

Rip wasn’t convinced. “Yeah, I know. But he wouldn’t send me to voicemail.”

My stomach twisted. Rip wasn’t the kind to worry without reason. He didn’t call just to chat. If he was reaching out, it meant something was off.

“Mother fucker, I gotta go, there’s a horse down in the field,” he cursed, his voice sharp. Then the line went dead.

Rip never said goodbye. But that wasn’t what made me uneasy. It was the way he’d asked about my father. Like his gut was telling him something was wrong.

And I trusted Rip’s gut.

I heard the squeal of an unfamiliar vehicle outside. My body tensed as I ducked down, sliding the rifle from under Ryan’s bunk. I loaded it, clicking the shells into place with steady hands.

Slowly, I moved toward the door, tucking the rifle into my shoulder and holding it up, ready. My pulse pounded in my ears as I caught sight of a dark van pulling up. The doors swung open, and six men wearing clown masks spilled out armed with military-grade weapons.

They weren’t friendly.

I inched my way out the bunkhouse door, every muscle coiled with tension. Then, a shot rang out from the house.

“Stay behind me,” Ryan said, pressing himself against the wall. I nodded, my breath shallow. I was out of my element. There was no time to discuss our options, no time to second-guess. Another shot was fired.

Lloyd.

I turned my head just in time to see one of the masked men crumple to the ground near the corral, Lloyd’s rifle still aimed, smoke curling from the barrel.

The fight had begun.

Ryan held his finger over his lips and pointed at one of the masked men standing just feet away from us. I nodded, tightening my grip on the rifle. In a flash, Ryan lunged, his arm crushing the intruder’s throat as I swung the butt of my rifle into the man’s face. The sickening crunch of bone echoed in my ears.

Another shot rang out.

Ethan tumbled off his horse, clutching his side, his face twisted in pain. A fresh wave of rage surged through me. I didn’t hesitate. I raised my rifle, locked onto the shooter, and squeezed the trigger.

He didn’t have a face anymore.

Smoke clung to the air—thick, acrid, curling from the barrels of our rifles and from my grandfather’s cabin. Rip’s cabin.

Everything was a blur. Time seemed to stand still even as it rushed past me in violent flashes. My heartbeat roared in my ears, my breath shallow and quick.

The ground trembled beneath me, but whether it was from the gunfire, the pounding of hooves, or the weight of what we had just done, I couldn’t tell.

I locked my eyes on Monica’s who stood in the field across from me clutching Tate tight to her chest to shield him from the nightmare that unfolded. I stood there frozen for a moment counting the bodies that littered the ground. Five…there were six. 

“There’s one more,” I called out. 

“He’s in the house,” Monica said. I tried to focus on her words. 

“That’s all of them…” I muttered, the weight of my rifle felt heavier in my hands. 

The tension in the air was thick, the quiet after the storm settling over the field like a shroud. My heart was pounding in my ears, but I forced myself to stay still, to keep my eyes on Monica as she held Tate protectively. There was something about the way she gripped him, that motherly instinct, it made me feel both protective and helpless at the same time.

Monica’s voice trembled slightly, though she tried to keep it steady. “You need to get him out of here. The last one... I think he’s still alive.”

I looked toward the house. My fingers tightened around the rifle, a reminder of how close we had come to losing everything. “You sure? I don’t see him moving.”

“He’s in there, Alex. Please, don’t let him get away.”

The plea in her voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. I nodded, turning my gaze back to the house. One more left. I wasn’t going to let him slip away.

I took a deep breath, my hands steadying as I made my way toward the door.

I slipped quietly inside, the man who made it inside had bled out on the kitchen floor. I nudged him with my boot to make sure he was really gone. 

“That’s the last one,” Lloyd echoed behind me, Jake was beside him and they lifted his body and dragged him outside. 

“Give me the rifle, baby,” Ryan’s voice called out to me. I relaxed my grip and handed it over to him. His arms wrapped around me as I buried my face in his chest. 

Ryan’s embrace was a steadying force, grounding me as the weight of what had just happened started to settle in. My muscles ached, my chest tight with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. I let myself melt into him, the scent of him—comforting, familiar—easing the knot in my stomach.

“You did good,” Ryan murmured, his voice soft but firm, like he was trying to reassure both of us. His hand stroked my hair gently, like he could hold me together with just that touch.

I swallowed hard, trying to push back the emotions threatening to surface. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Ryan.”

His grip tightened, just enough to remind me that he was there, that I wasn’t alone in this. “I know. But we’re still here. We made it through. You kept them safe.”

The sound of the bodies being dragged outside echoed faintly through the house, but I wasn’t thinking about them anymore. I was thinking about us, about what came next. The aftermath, the quiet that followed the chaos, and the decisions we’d have to face moving forward.

“We’ll figure it out,” Ryan whispered, like he could hear the questions swirling in my mind. And for a moment, that was enough.

“Y’all stay here,” Lloyd called as he ushered Monica and Tate back inside, his tone commanding but low. “Ryan, Colby—keep watch. Just in case.”

I glanced over at him, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Is everyone OK?” It was a dumb fucking question—of course, no one was OK. Everyone was shaken, everyone was hurting, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Everyone alive?” I added quickly, regretting the first question as soon as the words left my mouth.

Lloyd’s gaze flickered to the kitchen floor, and for a second, I could see the weight of the situation in his eyes. “Yeah. Teeter took Ethan to the vet,” he said, voice quieter. “Your father was shot. He’s been airlifted to the hospital. When we’re sure this place is clear, we’ll take you to him.”

I nodded, my gaze fixated on the pool of blood slowly spreading across the kitchen floor. It felt like everything was still, like the room was frozen in time, but inside, I was anything but calm.

—-----------------------------

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks slipped into months. My father remained in a coma, unresponsive, trapped somewhere between life and death. Beth’s office building had been reduced to rubble, her world shattered with it. She’d lost another assistant in the explosion. She was healing—physically, at least—but there was a hollowness to her now, something that didn’t seem to lift.

Kayce... Kayce had taken bullets, his body a battlefield from the men who’d tried to take our father down. He’d done what needed to be done, but it had cost him more than just blood.

He wasn’t the same after that. The fire that once sparked in his eyes had dimmed, and the smiles that used to come so easily were gone, replaced by a kind of silence that spoke louder than any words could.

Me, I was holding it together. There wasn’t time to break down—not when there was a ranch to run and lives on the line. I figured it out, even without Jamie or Beth to help. I’d spent years watching my father, Beth, and Jamie do what needed to be done, and now it was my turn. The lessons sank in deeper than I realized. I couldn’t let them take it from us, not when everyone else was fighting just to stay alive.

I sat behind my father’s desk, the familiar weight of it pressing down on me in a way it never had before. It felt different now, almost like it had grown heavier with responsibility.

Then, my phone rang. Beth.

I hesitated for just a moment before grabbing it, my hands trembling slightly. I sucked in a breath, bracing myself for whatever news she was about to give me. My pulse raced as I swiped to answer.

“Daddy’s awake,” she said, her voice quieter, calmer than it had been in weeks. I could hear the relief in her words, though it was wrapped up in something deeper, something we both needed more than we’d realized. “He wants to come home. I need you to help me get a room ready for him. A nurse.”

My heart hitched, the weight that had been pressing on my chest for months easing just a little. I felt like I could finally breathe again. “When?” I asked, my voice steadier than I expected.

“Day after tomorrow,” she said.

“I’ll have it done,” I promised, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Love you, Beth.”

“I know,” she sighed, the familiar edge to her voice almost soothing in its bluntness. “Love you too, Alex.”

We weren’t the type of family that needed to say it all the time, not with the way we showed it. But after everything, after all that had happened, I couldn’t leave it unspoken. I needed her to hear it, to know I meant it with everything I had.

And just like that, the heaviness of it all didn’t seem quite so suffocating.

—---

I stood in the doorway of my father’s room, taking in the cold, sterile reality of it. Machines hummed softly, IV lines snaked from poles, and a hospital bed dominated the space where his old one used to be. He was going to hate it. Every last piece of it. But it was the price of bringing him home, the compromise the doctors had made.

And then there was the nurse. Maggie. Some overly chipper girl with a permanent, too-bright smile. He was going to hate her too.

“Alex,” Beth called from downstairs, her voice carrying through the house. “We’re home.”

I stepped into the hallway just in time to see the EMTs maneuvering my father’s stretcher through the front door. They struggled up the stairs, nearly losing their grip. My heart lurched.

“Hey! That’s precious cargo you’ve got there,” I snapped, stepping aside but keeping a sharp eye on them. “Be careful.”

My father’s gaze met mine as they carried him past, his expression unreadable beneath the exhaustion. I reached out and squeezed his hand, grounding both of us in the moment. “Welcome home, Daddy.”

The second they rolled him into his room, his face twisted in irritation. His sharp eyes scanned the equipment, the wires, the bed that wasn’t his.

“Get this shit outta here,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse but laced with that signature Dutton stubbornness. “Alex. Beth. I fucking mean it.”

Beth sighed, already exhausted before the real battle had even started. I stepped forward, arms crossed, ready for the fight I knew was coming.

“Can’t, Dad,” I said firmly. “It’s either this bed or the one back at the hospital. And I want you here, where I can keep an eye on you.”

His scowl deepened, but he didn’t argue. Not yet, anyway. He just let out a slow, aggravated breath, settling back against the pillows like a man resigned to war.

This was going to be a long recovery—for all of us.

“Get some rest, Dad,” I said, giving him one last look before stepping out the door. He muttered something under his breath, already irritated, but I let him be. If grumbling kept him alive, so be it.

Beth was waiting for me on the porch, a cigarette perched between her fingers. We stood in silence for a moment, staring out at the land we had almost died to protect. The sky was painted in hues of deep orange and violet, the kind of Montana sunset that should have felt peaceful. But all I could feel was the weight of everything that had happened.

“How long do you give him?” I asked, arms crossed as I glanced over at her. “Before he sends that chipper bitch packing?”

Beth took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cooling evening air. “Day, tops,” she said flatly, her lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

I huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

For a moment, it was just us, the silence stretching between cigarette drags and unspoken truths. We weren’t the same people we were before all this. 

“Kayce still out there?” I asked, my eyes tracking the faint rustle in the brush. He was out there—I knew it before Beth even answered. Since coming home from the hospital, he’d barely left his post. Always watching, waiting for another ambush.

They had made it to our home, crossed that sacred line, and shattered what little sense of security we had left. Robbed us of our sanctuary. And Kayce wouldn’t let that happen again.

Not after what they made Tate do.

Not after what they made all of us do.

Beth didn’t say much, just took another slow drag of her cigarette and nodded. She didn’t have to say anything. We both knew Kayce wasn’t coming inside anytime soon.

“You’re fired!” Dad’s voice thundered from the other side of the door.

I barely flinched. Just sighed and muttered, “Didn’t even last the day.”

A moment later, the door swung open, and Dad stepped onto the porch. He was shaved, dressed, looking like himself again—but there was something different. A weariness in his eyes I had never seen before. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was deeper, heavier. The kind of weight a man carries when he’s lost too much.

“You two should stay in the lodge until we have this figured out,” he said, his voice rough but steady.

Beth shook her head, her tone flat. “Rip and I moved into the foreman’s house.”

Dad nodded. “Good. That’s closer. The cabin’s too remote.”

Beth stilled. I watched her swallow hard, the moisture in her eyes barely held at bay.

“The cabin is gone, Daddy,” she said, her voice quieter than I’d heard it in a long time. “They killed that too.”

A muscle in Dad’s jaw ticked, his fingers curling into fists. “What else did they decide to kill?”

I placed a steadying hand on his arm, helping him ease into the porch chair. “It’ll still be there tomorrow,” I said gently. “You’re home. That’s all that matters for today.”

“We’ll talk defeat tomorrow,” Beth agreed, exhaling a slow breath. “I want to end this day on a victory.”

Silence settled over us, thick with everything left unsaid. Then, from the shadows, Kayce emerged, moving toward the house. He was still dressed in full camouflage, dirt smudged across his face, his expression unreadable.

But I knew that look.

He was still at war.

Even now, even here—he hadn’t come home yet. Not really.

—---

“I’m going out. Won’t be back ‘til late,” Beth announced as she stepped off the porch, the gravel crunching beneath her boots.

I frowned. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to look that snake in the eye and confirm what I already know.”

I exhaled sharply. “He wouldn’t do that to us.”

Beth stopped mid-step, her laugh cold and humorless. “You mean he wouldn’t do this to you.” She shrugged off her jacket, the dim porch light catching the scars etched into her skin—scars that were as much Jamie’s fault as anyone else's. “When are you gonna wake up to who he really is? Time and fucking time again, he has let us down.”

I didn’t argue. Because deep down, I knew she was right.

Not about Jamie being behind this—not completely. But about the person he was turning into.

He had called me. He had called Kayce. He had even called the hospital. But not once had he called Beth. He wouldn’t give her that. Wouldn’t let her hear it from him.

And when he spoke to me, he asked about the ranch more than he asked about our father.

Jamie would always be my brother. No matter what he did, no matter how far he drifted from us, that fact wouldn’t change. He had spent his whole life trying to prove he belonged—first to our father, then to the rest of us, and finally, to himself. But when he discovered he was adopted, I think he thought that truth would break the bond between us. That we’d stop seeing him as one of us.

I never had to question my place in this family. Jamie did. Maybe that’s why he always seemed like he had something to prove.

I remembered a day, long before I understood what made us different.

“Why can’t I have bright blue eyes like Jamie?” I had asked my mother when I was five, staring up at her with the hazel eyes I’d inherited from my father.

She had smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Jamie’s special, honey,” she said softly. “God gave him to me.”

I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. I just accepted it the way children do, as if it were some simple truth of the world, no different than the sky being blue or the mountains standing tall.

But now, looking back, I wondered if she had said it more for herself than for me.

My father cleared his throat behind me as he stepped back outside, pulling me from my thoughts. His boots scraped against the wooden planks as he groaned, gripping the railing before stepping off the porch.

“Where are you going, Dad?” I asked, quickly following after him. I reached out, catching his arm to steady him when he wavered slightly.

“Bunkhouse,” he answered, his tone firm but tired. “Need to talk to them.”

I frowned. “That’s a long walk. You just got out of bed two days ago.”

“Guess that’s why you’re gonna have to walk with me, sweetheart,” he grumbled.

I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. Stubborn old bastard. But I didn’t argue. Instead, I tucked my arm around his, matching his pace as we made our way across the yard. His steps were slower than they used to be, but his grip was steady, his determination unshaken.

He wasn’t ready to sit on the sidelines. And no matter how much I wanted to force him to rest, I knew better than to try.

The bunkhouse was quieter than it used to be. Everything had been quieter since the attack. The hands had fought for this land—fought for us—like it was their own. And in some ways, it was. They had shed blood for it, lost sleep over it, and carried the weight of it just like we had.

When we stepped inside, all eyes drifted toward us, the low murmur of conversation fading into silence. It wasn’t just me they were staring at—it was him. John Dutton didn’t make appearances in the bunkhouse, not unless it was for a reason. And this time, it wasn’t for discipline or orders.

I felt my grip on his arm relax as he stepped away from me. I lingered near the wall, watching as he crossed the room, his presence commanding even in his weakened state.

“No picnic working here, huh?” Dad started, his voice carrying through the room. The hands exchanged glances, a few nodding, but no one spoke.

He let out a slow breath. “I’m here to say I’m sorry. And I’m here to say thank you.”

That caught their attention. The hands straightened slightly, their gazes locked onto him.

“I’m sorry people came after you to get to me. That’s not what you signed up for. I’m sorry you went through that.” He paused, his eyes sweeping the room, landing on each of them in turn. “Now, to thank you. And I mean it from the bottom of my heart: thank you for fighting back. Thank you for protecting this place,” he glanced at me, “for protecting my family. I’ll never forget it.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Some of the men nodded, others looked away, like they weren’t sure what to do with his gratitude. But I could see it mattered.

Dad clapped his hands together. “Now, you stop worrying about fighting. Worry about cowboying. You leave the fighting to me.”

He moved toward the kitchen, his steps slower but steady. When he caught sight of the overflowing trash can, beer cans stacked haphazardly on the counter, and empty boxes littering the floor, he let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Good Lord,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Looks like you boys could use some beer, huh?”

I smirked, watching as he yanked open the fully stocked fridge. Some things never changed.

Letting out a breath, I settled into the chair next to Ryan, finally letting myself relax, even if just for a moment.

Dad pulled a beer from the fridge, popped the cap off, and took a long swallow like it was the first decent thing he'd had in weeks.

“Dad…” I started, knowing full well he wouldn’t listen to my warning.

He cut me a look before Lloyd spoke up. “You alright to drink, boss?”

Dad smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Lloyd, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only thing on this earth that can kill me is me.” He took another sip, his expression lighter than it had been in a long time. Then he turned toward the table, eyes scanning the group. “Any of you dipshits feel like losing a week’s wages to the boss?”

That got a round of laughter, the kind that came from men who thought they had a chance—until they didn’t. They liked to think they could bluff their way into a bonus, but Dad had been playing cards longer than most of them had been alive.

His gaze drifted over to Laramie as she leaned into Walker, then landed on Ryan, whose arm was already draped over my shoulders. A flicker of something crossed his face—curiosity, amusement, maybe even approval, though he wouldn’t say it outright.

“Can someone explain to me how this whole deal is working out?” he asked, nodding toward the tangled web of relationships in the room.

Jake smirked. “Well, that’s what you’d call a constant state of evolution.”

Dad chuckled. “Well, look at the big words from Jake,” he said, pulling up a chair.

“We playing Hold ‘Em now?” Ryan asked, sliding the deck to Lloyd.

“Depends on how much money you want to lose, cowboy,” I teased, shooting him a wink.

Colby grinned. “Just so you know, when we play cards, we talk a lot of trash. So don’t go getting your feelings hurt, alright?”

Dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If one of you boys thinks you can insult me, give it your best shot.”

Ryan chuckled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

“Alright, the game’s Hold ‘Em,” Lloyd said, dealing out the cards.

I tossed my money into the pot, watching as my father analyzed his hand. He looked more at ease than I’d seen him in months, like the weight of the world had lifted—if only for the night.

—--------------

Ryan’s hair had gotten longer over the past few months, and I still hadn’t decided if I liked it. But when he looked down at me with that same easy smile, none of that really mattered.

“So, when do you plan on talking to my father?” I asked, running my fingers through the tousled strands.

“Talk to your father about what?” he smirked as he climbed out of bed, stretching before reaching for his jeans.

I propped myself up on my elbow, watching him get dressed. “I know what you’re planning. I just don’t want you to be disappointed with the size of my dowry. Might just be a sack of potatoes and a broodmare.”

He paused, one boot in his hand, brow lifting. “Who told you? Was it Colby?”

I smirked. “I’m not divulging my sources, cowboy. I took an oath.”

“Yeah, it was Colby,” he sighed, shaking his head before crossing the room. His hands found my waist as I knelt on the bed, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“I’m just waiting until your dad’s feeling better,” he murmured.

“That might take longer than I’m willing to wait,” I whispered, tracing my fingertips along his jaw.

Ryan’s lips curved into that slow, knowing smile before he dipped his head, his mouth grazing the spot on my neck that turned my thoughts to static.

“Let me do this my way, baby,” he whispered against my skin.

I sucked in a breath, the heat stirring low in my stomach. “You drive a hard bargain.”

He gave my ass a playful swat. “Get dressed, Travis is bringing horses to show your dad.”

“You know the way to my heart,” I teased, climbing out of bed.

As I pulled my nightgown up over my head, I felt his gaze linger. The air between us thickened for a second before I smirked and turned away, grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a shirt from the closet. My fingers brushed over one of his good shirts hanging there, a quiet reminder of how much time we spent together. We split our nights between my room and the bunkhouse, but his best shirts—the ones he didn’t want to wrinkle—always ended up here.

I glanced over my shoulder to find him still watching me, that familiar heat in his eyes.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it outside in time to see those horses,” I warned.

Ryan grinned, running a hand through his hair before reaching for his hat. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He eyed me for a moment, seeing the shirt that I wore fit tight across my chest, exposing a little more cleavage than I normally did for ranch chores, but didn’t say anything out loud.

“What’s that look for?” I cocked a brow.

“You’re going to be a distraction,” he smirked slipping his arms around me.

“That’s the idea,” I tilted my hat back and stepped up on my toes to press a soft kiss to his lips, “Easier to talk Travis down if he’s looking at my boobs.” 

Ryan chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening just a little. “Can’t say I love the strategy, but I can’t argue with the logic.”

I smirked, adjusting my hat as I stepped away from him. “Travis is a businessman, but he’s still a man. A little distraction never hurt negotiations.”

Ryan smirked, shaking his head as he grabbed his belt off the chair. “You sure know how to play the game, baby.”

“That’s the plan,” I shot back, pulling on my boots. “Now come on before my dad wonders if you finally talked me into running off to Vegas.”

He grinned at that, tossing his arm around my shoulders as we headed out. “If I had, we wouldn’t be coming back.”

Travis and his team unloaded the horses, each one more impressive than the last. Their coats gleamed in the sunlight, muscles rippling as they stepped off the trailer with the confidence of champions.

“Well, your new crew is a hell of a lot prettier than your old one,” I called out, eyeing the riders. Most of them were women—tall, lean, and sharp-eyed, each one looking like they belonged in a magazine as much as they did in a saddle.

“Goddamn, I love when Travis comes to the ranch,” Jake muttered, practically drooling.

Travis caught my eye, then glanced at Jake, smirking. So much for using my assets to negotiate—I had competition.

“So, you’re from where? Texarkana?” Travis asked Teeter, squinting at her like he was trying to place an old memory.

“Yeah, Texarkana,” she answered, chewing her gum like she had all the time in the world.

“Which side of the river?”

“North.”

Travis barked out a laugh. “That ain’t Texas, that’s goddamn Arkansas. Stop tellin’ people you’re from Texas.”

Teeter just shrugged. “Whatever you say, man.”

Rip strolled up, arms crossed over his chest. “You ever sell that five-million-dollar bastard?”

Travis smirked. “I try to leave every show with an empty trailer.” He nodded toward a sleek new saddle perched on the fence. “Had Andy Masci make you something special.”

Rip cocked a brow behind his dark sunglasses. “Yeah? What for?”

“Little wedding present,” Travis grinned.

Rip huffed a laugh. “How’d you figure that out, motherfucker?”

Travis threw up his hands. “I’m a horse trainer, brother. When a woman goes off the market, I get a fucking email.”

One of his girls led a pair of horses over, their hooves thudding softly against the packed dirt. Travis gave me a once-over, then gestured to the horses.

“Alex, I do appreciate the effort, but I think these two will do what you need.”

I stepped up onto the fence, leaning forward just enough to make my point. “Suppose I can’t talk you into a two-for-one special?”

“You could try,” Travis said, looking down at me with a knowing smirk. “Can’t say how much it’ll work.”

Before I could push my luck any further, the sound of hoofbeats drew his attention past me. I turned to see Dad and Kayce riding in from the fields, their silhouettes framed by the late afternoon sun.

“I don’t think the doctor cleared you for riding,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my father.

Kayce gave me a look—one I knew all too well. He’d already had this argument and lost.

“I didn’t ask him, sweetheart,” Dad said simply as he swung down from his horse, landing with a grunt.

None of us pressed the issue. Instead, we all turned our attention to Travis, watching as he worked his horse with a level of skill that was damn near mesmerizing.

“Goddamn,” Kayce muttered, eyes locked on the stallion as it spun and surged forward with effortless power. “He just gets the livestock, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Rip responded, almost in awe. “What are y’all shopping for?” 

“I need a pair for Roman trick riding,” I answered, my excitement creeping into my voice.

“The hell is that?” Rip asked, brow furrowed.

“It’s when you stand on two horses and ride around the arena,” I explained.

Rip looked at me like I’d lost my damn mind. “That sounds… interesting.”

“It’s fucking awesome,” I corrected him.

Dad sighed, shaking his head. “Sweetheart…”

I braced myself. I knew that tone.

“I don’t need you to buy me a pony, Dad,” I said before he could go any further. “I’m not eight years old anymore.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “Just thought you were done with all that.”

I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. “I’ll still be doing it when I’m eighty.”

Dad exhaled sharply, his expression caught somewhere between pride and exasperation. “I’d just like to see you live that long.”

“I know what I’m doing, Dad,” I assured him, my voice softer now.

He nodded, but I could still see the worry lingering in his eyes.

“What exactly are you looking for?” I quirked a brow, steering the conversation away from the worry still lingering in his eyes.

“Legacy,” he answered simply. Then, after a beat, he continued, “You know the King Ranch down in Texas?”

I nodded.

“They got 825,000 acres.”

Kayce nodded too, following along.

“The land down there is so thick with oil,” Dad went on, “you could stab the damn ground with a shovel and strike it. So how’s that ranch still there? That’s the real question.”

“Yeah,” Kayce said. “You’d think some big oil company would’ve bought them out by now.”

Dad pointed a finger at him. “That’s because they got ahead of it. Started their own oil company, bred their own cattle, hell, even bred their own horses. There ain’t a single horse in that arena you can’t trace back to the King Ranch.” His gaze moved between us. “That’s what we’re gonna do. Outside of this valley, who even knows we’re here? I’m gonna make sure the whole damn world does.”

“You want to put Travis on the road?” I asked.

Dad nodded, then looked to Rip. “You know him best. What do you think?”

“That fucker doesn’t do anything but win,” Rip said, then glanced at me. “Just like you.”

Kayce wasn’t convinced. “Can we trust him?”

I smirked. “He puts the whore in horse trainer.”

Rip chuckled. “If he’s riding for the Y, he’ll be true to it. But he’ll fuck over everyone else, sir.”

Dad took a slow breath, then stepped toward Travis, who was still mounted.

“Hey, John,” Travis greeted with a knowing grin.

Dad motioned toward the horse he’d been working. “How’s he priced?”

“Through the roof.”

“Well, what if I put him on the road with you? How’s he priced then?”

“Price stays the same, but you’ll earn it back in less than a year,” Travis answered without hesitation.

“I’ll take him,” Dad said, no room for argument. “Now show me more.”

Travis’s grin widened. “How many you want?”

I shook my head slightly, already seeing the gleam in his eyes.

“When people see horses,” Dad said, “I want them thinking of the Yellowstone.”

Travis nodded knowingly. “John, you know the deal—there’s no money in the oak. All the money’s in the acorn. I’ll find you a stud. Give me three years.”

Dad shook his head. “Don’t have three years. Just get me in now. Find me acorns on the way to that winner’s circle.”

Travis studied him, then asked, “You want cutters?”

“I want all three,” Dad replied.

Travis let out a low whistle. “John, that’s gonna cost a lot of money. A few million to do it right.”

Dad didn’t hesitate. “Can you win it back?”

Travis leaned forward in the saddle. “If we’re doing this, then let me do it right. I’ll get you the best of the best in all three, and I’ll stack checks on your desk as thick as a damn phone book.”

Dad gave him a firm nod. “Do it.”

Travis didn’t waste a second. “Alright. I’ll start making calls.” With that, he turned his horse and rode off.

Kayce exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t afford to do this.”

Dad didn’t waver. “Yeah, well, we can’t afford not to, son.”

I took a breath, stepping forward. “Dad?”

He turned, already bracing for a fight. “I don’t need you to try to talk me out of it, honey.”

“I’m not gonna try to talk you out of it.” I hesitated just long enough for him to notice. “I just… I want to be a part of it. This is my legacy too. I want to invest in it.”

Dad studied me for a long moment, then finally, he nodded. “Alright then, you’re in.”

That was all I needed to hear.

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Twenty

“Why’s Jamie walking around like someone just killed his dog?” I leaned against Beth’s doorframe, watching her prepare to take on the world.

“Well, little sister,” Beth began, her voice laced with bitterness, “the brother you think is so fucking perfect just sold our father out.”

“What do you mean? Jamie wouldn’t do that,” I responded quickly, trying to defend him. I knew Jamie was angry with Dad for pushing him out of political office, but this was different.

“You’ve always had your blinders on for him,” Beth snapped, her eyes narrowing. “Jamie did what Jamie always does—he put himself before this family.”

“He’s Dad’s lawyer,” I argued, shaking my head. “Anything he could’ve said would’ve been protected by what’s it called... confidentiality.”

“Jamie was smart enough to only share what wouldn’t get him disbarred,” Beth said, “not enough to start an inferno but he sure as fuck lit the match.”

I frowned, crossing my arms. “So what happens now?”

Beth smirked at me through the mirror, swiping on her lipstick like she was preparing for battle. “Now? Now, we make sure Jamie learns that being a turncoat doesn’t come without consequences.”

I exhaled sharply, glancing toward the hallway where I’d last seen Jamie slinking around like a kicked dog. “Beth, are we sure he really—”

“Yes.” She snapped the lipstick cap back on with a decisive click. “Don’t start making excuses for him.”

I wanted to argue, wanted to believe Jamie wasn’t as selfish as Beth made him out to be. But deep down, I knew better.

“Goddamn it,” I muttered.

Beth turned to face me fully, one perfectly sculpted brow arched. “Welcome to the party, little sister. Now, you wanna help me burn his world down, or you gonna keep standing in my doorway, looking like a lost puppy?”

“I’m not, I'm just not as eager to destroy him as you are,” I responded, “What did Dad say?”

“Dad is gonna let Jamie, Jamie his way out of it, like he always does,” she stared at me.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked. 

Beth’s smirk widened, but there was no humor in it—just sharp, cold calculation. “Oh, don’t you worry, little sister. I’ll do what needs to be done.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Beth—”

“No.” She cut me off, stepping forward until we were nearly toe to toe. “Don’t start with the ‘but he’s our brother’ bullshit. I’m fresh out of sympathy for Jamie. He made his bed.”

I studied her face, searching for even the smallest crack in her armor. But Beth was a fortress—walls high, gates locked, cannons already aimed.

“What do you want from me?” I asked finally.

Beth leaned in, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “I want you to open your damn eyes. Jamie isn’t who you want him to be. He never was.”

I swallowed hard, not because I didn’t believe her—but because a part of me already knew she was right.

—--

I couldn’t face my brother yet, I didn’t want to, I knew he would try to convince me he did it because he wanted to save the ranch. But deep down, I knew Jamie did it for Jamie. 

Instead, I found myself heading toward the stables, seeking the kind of solace that only came from the steady rhythm of hooves against dirt and the quiet understanding of a horse that didn’t ask questions. Denim flicked his ears as I approached, sensing my mood before I even reached him.

“Hey, boy,” I murmured, running a hand down his strong neck. “At least I can count on you to be honest.”

He huffed softly, nudging at my pocket for treats. I gave a small chuckle, pulling out a sugar cube and letting him take it from my palm.

“You and me both, sweetheart,” a voice drawled from behind me.

I turned to find Rip leaning against the stall door, arms crossed, watching me the way he always did—like he could see straight through the walls I put up.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You came out here ‘cause you didn’t wanna hear whatever bullshit Jamie’s about to feed you?”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I just… I don’t have it in me to hear him lie to my face right now.”

Rip nodded, stepping inside the stall and resting a hand on Denim’s back. “Yeah, well, he’s got a talent for that.”

Silence settled between us for a moment, the sounds of the barn filling the space where words weren’t needed.

“What would you do?” I finally asked, glancing up at him. “If it were you?”

Rip exhaled slowly, considering. “If I were you? I’d stop wastin’ energy tryin’ to see somethin’ in Jamie that ain’t there. The man picks himself every time. Always has, always will.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at the truth of it. “And if he’s really done something that screws us all?”

Rip met my gaze, his voice low and firm. “Then you gotta decide, are you gonna be a Dutton—or are you gonna be Jamie’s sister?”

I never thought I’d have to be one or the other. But if I had to choose, one brother over the other, over my sister and our father. There wasn’t really a choice to make. 

“When did you become so fucking wise?” I asked him. Almost seeing that wild teenage boy who came to the ranch a lifetime ago staring back at me. 

“I’ve always been wise. You haven’t been paying attention,” he responded. 

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, that’s it. I just missed all your pearls of wisdom over the years.”

Rip smirked, but something was knowing in his gaze. “You always saw what you wanted to see, Alex. Even when we were kids.”

Maybe he was right. Maybe I had spent too much time trying to find something redeemable in Jamie when, deep down, I always knew he’d never put us first. That was the difference between him and the rest of us—he was born into this family, but he never really chose it.

I glanced back at Denim, running my hand down his nose, grounding myself in the familiar. “I don’t know how Dad lets it slide. How he can keep forgiving him.”

Rip’s jaw tightened. “Because deep down, your old man still wants to believe Jamie’s worth it. Just like you do.”

I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the truth settle over me. “Not anymore.”

Rip gave a small nod, as if he’d been waiting for me to say it. “Good.”

It was just one word, but it felt like a shift—like something in me had settled. I wasn’t gonna be blind to who Jamie really was anymore. And if it ever came down to it, I knew exactly where I stood.

With my family. With the ones who chose the ranch, chose us, every damn time.

I felt a bit more at ease as I stepped out of the barn, spotting the blacksmith arriving to replace our horses' shoes. I knew better than to stick around—if I did, Denim would put on a show. The process didn’t hurt him, but my spoiled, rotten horse had a knack for dramatics, and he’d milk it for all it was worth if he thought it might get me to call it off.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me as the crisp Montana air bit at my skin. Leaning against the arena fence, I watched as Lloyd, Jimmy, and Jake gathered around one of the two-year-olds—one that hadn’t quite learned to tolerate a rider yet.

This should be interesting.

“When you do this at the rodeo,” Lloyd said, catching my attention. My ears perked up—that was my domain. “There ain’t no saddle, just you, your rigging, and the horse.”

And just like that, this went from interesting to potentially the worst idea Jimmy had ever had.

I’d been paying attention—Jimmy was strapped for cash. And while I had the means to help him, I knew better. It wasn’t my place to bail him out. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way.

Still, I chewed my lip, watching him, torn between letting him make his own mistakes and stepping in before this one left him broken.

Rip exhaled sharply, his expression unreadable as he watched Jimmy bask in his brief triumph.

“Eight seconds,” Jimmy repeated, practically beaming. “That’s a real score, right?”

“It’s something,” Rip replied, still unimpressed.

I bit the inside of my cheek, debating whether to be encouraging or realistic. Finally, I settled on, “Awesome. I know you got the brains for bronc riding.”

Jimmy, oblivious to the sarcasm, grinned wider.

Rip leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Why is he on that rank bastard?”

“He needs to earn some extra money,” Lloyd answered.

Rip sighed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ.”

Jimmy, still high on adrenaline, had no idea he was making a deal with the devil—because rodeo didn’t just take your money. It took your time, your pride, and sometimes, the use of your damn legs.

“Hey Jimmy,” Rip called, “you know why you never met any old rodeo cowboys?” Jimmy gave him a look, “Cause there ain’t any.”

Jimmy laughed, but Rip didn’t.

That should’ve been his first clue.

Lloyd chuckled, shaking his head. “Hell, I was young and dumb once too.”

“You’re still dumb,” I teased, nudging his arm.

He smirked. “And you’re still mouthy.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t the one lettin’ Jimmy think he’s invincible,” I shot back, watching as Jimmy straightened up, still caught in the rush of his eight-second ride.

“I won’t die, I promise,” Jimmy insisted, full of that dangerous kind of confidence only rookies had.

Rip tilted his head, eyeing him in that way that made most men second-guess their entire life’s choices. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said flatly, then turned and walked off.

Jimmy might’ve thought he was getting into the rodeo for the money, but he was about to learn the hard way—bronc riding in the rodeo always cost more than it paid.

I couldn't judge Jimmy’s newfound passion too harshly—there were dangers in every sport. My father’s biggest worry when I was learning was that I’d fall and crack my neck. That fear didn’t stop me.

I’d hit the dirt more times than I could count, bruised ribs, twisted ankles, and once, a concussion that had me seeing double for two days. But quitting was never an option.

Jimmy had that same fire in his eyes, that reckless determination that made a person get back on the horse, no matter how many times they got thrown. I understood it. Hell, I respected it.

But rodeo had a way of humbling even the toughest riders. And something told me Jimmy was about to find that out the hard way.

I didn’t say anything as Lloyd took Jimmy to the fairground to try in a bucking chute. I stayed behind, watching Rip’s expression, which told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t thrilled. He’d learned to live with my decision to rodeo—maybe, with time, he’d be okay with Jimmy’s too.

“Lloyd will take care of him,” I said, crossing my arms. “Just hope it’s enough.”

Rip exhaled through his nose, running a hand down the side of his horse. “Yeah,” he muttered.

There was a weight in his voice, something unspoken. He’d seen too many men get hurt, too many good cowboys take one bad fall that changed everything. Jimmy had heart, no doubt, but heart didn’t mean a damn thing when a bronc was twisting in midair, determined to put you in the dirt.

Still, I hoped Jimmy would prove him wrong.

I ran my hand down Rip’s horse’s face, letting him nuzzle into my jacket for the rest of my treats. 

“Don’t go spoiling my horse too, he’s gotta work,” Rip chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I ignored him. 

Jamie walked up, his face twisted. I felt the old me tug wanting to help my brother out of whatever he’d gotten us into. 

“What happened?” I asked. Jamie didn’t look at me. He stared at Rip.

“Jamie, what happened?” Rip asked. We followed Jamie to his SUV and he slowly opened the back. I blinked in horror at the dead woman who was lying in the back. 

“I don’t know what happened– it just all went wrong,” Jamie was on the verge of tears. “What do we do?”

“We talk to your father,” Rip looked at me, I’d seen more than I should have. More than what I was supposed to be responsible for. But it was too late now. I knew the weight of this place, the bodies that were buried to keep it going. But knowing and seeing are two entirely different things.

“No, Rip, no,” Jamie pleaded clinging to Rip’s jacket. 

“I don’t work for you,” Rip pushed Jamie away.

“Yeah,” Jamie held up his hand in surrender, “If you tell him, then he’s an accessory to murder.”

“What do you think you just made, her?” Rip cut his eyes to me and then back to Jamie. 

“Right now, the only accountable person is me,” Jamie said, “We need to keep it that way. Rip, please. I’ve always treated you as a friend.”

I knelt on the ground, burying my face in my hands. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have the energy to dedicate my tears to Jamie, not now. 

Rip’s jaw clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He looked at Jamie, then at me, then back at the body in the SUV.

“You don’t got friends, Jamie,” Rip said, his voice flat. “You got people who tolerate you.”

Jamie swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he dragged them through his hair. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t—”

“But it did,” I cut him off, finally looking up from where I’d buried my face in my hands. “And now it’s our problem.”

Rip let out a slow, measured breath. “I’ll handle it.”

Jamie looked like he might collapse in relief, but I wasn’t relieved. I was sick. The weight of this place had never felt heavier.

I pushed to my feet, staring at Jamie like I didn’t even know him anymore. “Tell me the truth,” I said quietly. “Did you do this?”

His head snapped up, eyes wild. “No! I swear to you, Alex, I didn’t mean to... But if we don’t do something—”

I shook my head. “You already did something, Jamie. That’s why we’re standing here.”

Rip turned to me. “Go inside.”

I hesitated, my stomach twisting, but I nodded. I didn’t need to see what came next.

As I walked back toward the house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a line had just been crossed. Not for Jamie—he was already too far gone.

For me.

So, I did what I always did when the weight of this place got too damn heavy—I saddled up.

Denim could sense my mood, shifting beneath me as I led him out of the barn. The cool Montana night wrapped around me like a vice, but I welcomed it. I needed the silence, the space, the distance from the house where my brother was pacing, probably rehearsing his next lie.

I didn’t want to be under the same roof as Jamie. If I could arrange it, I didn’t want to be in the same fucking state. But that wasn’t an option.

Not yet.

So, I rode. Through the open fields, past the tree line where the stars stretched wide and far, into the places where no one could reach me. Denim’s hooves pounded against the earth, steady and sure, drowning out the storm in my head.

I didn’t know what scared me more—what Jamie had done, or the fact that I wasn’t sure if I could keep looking at him without seeing the body in the back of his SUV.

It was late when I got back in the barn. My head a little clearer. I knew Rip took care of it, like he takes care of all the ranch’s dirty work. 

“What did you do with her?” I asked Rip when I got back to the barn.

“Don’t go poking your nose where it don’t belong,” he told me, “it didn’t happen, understand.” 

I nodded, but I didn’t feel better about it. 

“You gonna rat me out if I crash here tonight?” I nodded my head toward the bunkhouse. 

“You should know by now, Alex,” he told me, “I always keep your secrets.” 

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Rip always had a way of making things seem simple, even when they weren’t.

The weight in my chest didn’t lift, but at least out here, away from the house, away from Jamie, I could breathe.

“I appreciate it,” I said, meaning it.

Rip just gave me a look, the kind that said he understood more than I wanted him to. “Get some sleep,” he said gruffly, turning back to his horse.

I made my way to the bunkhouse, slipping inside quietly. A few of the guys were still up, playing cards, laughing like nothing was wrong in the world. Like there wasn’t a body buried somewhere on this land.

“Jimmy make it back from the rodeo?” I asked Ethan who was shuffling a deck of cards. 

“They just pulled in a bit ago,” Ethan never one for many words. Cool and quiet. I guess he’d be more concerned if Jimmy didn’t make it back from the rodeo. 

Jake rushed through the door, looking like he was about to explode. I guess that was literal.

“Ate too much chili at the rodeo,” he shoved past me and rushed into the bathroom. Sending Ryan and Colby rushing out, in their towels. 

I wrinkled my nose as the bathroom door slammed shut behind Jake.

“Christ, Jake,” Ryan groaned, shaking his head as he ran a towel through his damp hair.

Colby looked downright traumatized. “I think my shower just got cut short.”

“You think?” Ryan shot back. “I barely got the soap out of my hair before he came barreling in like the damn rodeo bull.”

Ethan chuckled, still shuffling his cards. “That’s what he gets for eating fairground chili.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “That boy never learns.”

Just then, a muffled groan came from the bathroom. 

I stayed put, sipping my beer, listening to the chaos unfold.

It was nice, for a moment, to pretend like this was the biggest problem of the night.

Jimmy and Lloyd strode in the door.

“You lived,” I gave him a smile, maybe Jimmy’s rodeo experience would lighten the dark mood I found myself in. 

Jimmy strutted in, his chest puffed out, clearly riding high on the adrenaline of the night. “Hell yeah, I lived. And then some,” he said, flashing the gold buckle like it was the most prized possession he’d ever earned. He was practically glowing with pride.

“You won that?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. My voice was a mix of amusement and genuine surprise. He hadn’t exactly been the most graceful on that bucking horse earlier, but apparently, he had it in him when it counted.

“You better believe it,” Jimmy grinned, his voice laced with confidence. 

Ryan gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as he tossed his towel onto the nearby bed and started dressing, not even looking up from the task. His approval was casual but genuine. He had a way of making things feel effortless, even when they weren't.

I forced my eyes to stay on Jimmy, and not on my cowboy just feet away from me, wearing nothing but a towel. 

“You can look if you want to, baby. Ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before,” Ryan chuckled. 

“She ain’t seen my junk,” Colby said, “otherwise she might pick a whole new cowboy to cuddle up with.” 

“I am trying to be a gentleman,” I called over to them, “your junk notwithstanding, I think I’ll take my chances and not be traumatized again tonight.” 

Ryan shot me a smirk, clearly enjoying the banter. “You sure? Cause I’m more than happy to give you a front-row seat to the show,” he teased, leaning against the wall as if it were no big deal. His confidence was almost enough to make me crack a smile.

Colby chimed in, a grin on his face. “Come on, Alex, you know you’re curious.”

“Curious, sure. Traumatized? Not so much,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “I’ve got better things to focus on—like not getting distracted by your ridiculousness.”

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re no fun, sweetheart. You can’t handle this level of cowboy charm?”

“I can handle plenty, but I’ve already been around enough to know when to look, and when to save myself the headache,” I said with a smirk, narrowing my eyes playfully at the pair.

As if on cue, Jimmy stepped up, showing off that gold buckle again, bringing the focus back to him. “I think I’m gonna need a drink to celebrate this one,” he said, oblivious to the ongoing teasing.

“Atta boy,” Ryan nodded. “You earned it.”

I just shook my head with a smile. Maybe I had a lot on my mind, but a good laugh with these guys was the kind of distraction I needed right now.

“Where’s Avery?” Jimmy asked. “I wanna show her.” 

“She left,” Ryan answered. 

“Where to?” Jimmy asked again.

“Didn’t say,” Ryan responded, “Just grabbed her shit and left.” 

“Guess being around y’all every day is enough to drive any sane woman away,” I said. I was disappointed by the news, if I were honest with myself. It was nice to have another woman around that wasn’t my sister. That kind of got it. That got me. 

“And yet you’re still here,” Colby responded. 

“Who said I was sane?” 

Jake emerged from the bathroom, “I wouldn’t go in there for 10-15 minutes if I was y’all.” 

“You’re even walking different,” Ryan remarked. 

“He lost ten pounds,” Lloyd said. 

I couldn’t help but snicker at the exchange, shaking my head as I leaned back in my seat.

 “Seems like the chili didn’t just settle in your stomach, huh, Jake?” I teased, giving him a playful side-eye.

Jake gave a half-hearted shrug, his face already flushed from the embarrassment. “Tasted good at the time…” he muttered, clearly regretting it. “Should’ve known better.”

“Well, we’re all learning something new today,” Colby said with a grin, glancing between Jake and Ryan. “Next time, maybe don’t challenge the chili at the rodeo.”

Walker strode in picking up his saddle bag and guitar case, “Adios, assholes,” he said as he headed for the door.

“Jesus boys, looks like leaving this place is getting contagious, huh?” Colby commented. 

I glanced up at Walker, I knew what I knew about the brand. “Where you headed?”

“Don’t know yet, Rip’s dropping me at the train station and I’ll figure it out from there. I’d like to say I’ll see you around, but I never want to see this place again,” he responded. 

And just like that my stomach was in knots again.  

I watched Walker leave, the sound of his boots fading as he walked out the door. There was a weird kind of finality in the air, a sense that this was it—that was the last time I’d see him, or maybe it just felt that way because I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn't sure why it hit me harder than I expected. Maybe it was the way he said it, like he'd finally given up on this place and all the ghosts that came with it.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, the weight of everything that had happened on the ranch pressing down on me. There were things I couldn’t share, burdens I couldn’t unload, and it was all getting to be too much.

I needed a distraction. My gaze automatically flicked over to Ryan as he slipped on his boxers, and I couldn’t help but smirk. "Damn, now that’s a show worth watching," I teased, trying to mask the tension inside me with humor.

Ryan glanced over at me with a knowing smile, clearly enjoying my attention. "You’re not shy about it, baby," he replied, his voice low and playful. There was always this spark between us, but today, it felt different.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” I shot back, my pulse quickening as I met his eyes. He slipped into a pair of old sweatpants, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Why don’t you come over here and take a closer look?” he smirked, his voice low, teasing.

I rolled my eyes, laughing softly as I stood up from my seat and started making my way to the corner of the bunkhouse. “Coby, your junk better be covered when I come over there,” I called over my shoulder, already anticipating his response.

He didn’t disappoint, chuckling under his breath. “I’m always fully covered, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t mind showing you a little more.”

“Two cowboy fantasy was not on my bingo card today,” I teased, my voice low as I stepped closer to Ryan, wrapping my arms around his waist. “But I like my hands full with this one.” I let my hands slide a little further down, feeling the warmth of his body under my touch.

Ryan smirked, his grip tightening around me as he leaned in closer. “You always know how to keep things interesting, don’t you?” His breath brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

I met his eyes, the playful banter between us fading into something more electric, the tension hanging thick in the air. “I aim to please,” I replied, my smile never fading.

Ryan’s lips hovered just next to my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. “You staying?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

“If you’re offering to share your bunk with me, cowboy,” I replied, my breath hitching as he pulled me tighter against him, the heat between us building.

“You’ve always got an open invitation, baby,” he murmured. I bit my lip, trying to lose myself in the feel of his lips on my skin.

I wanted to let Ryan help me forget what happened today with my brother, the body, what was likely happening to Walker now. But the thoughts wouldn’t go away. 

Ryan felt the shift and locked his eyes with mine, “You ok?”

I shook my head, I was not OK, “Would you be ok if we just slept?” 

Ryan’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His gaze softened, understanding the turmoil that was swirling in my mind. "We don’t have to do anything, Alex. Whatever you need."

“I just need you to hold me,” I said. Gently he guided me to the edge of the bunk and leaned down to help me off with my boots. I lifted my hips and slid my jeans off.

“Come here,” he said pulling me into his arms. His warmth was a comfort, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget the chaos. His steady breathing beside me was soothing, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest reminded me that, for tonight at least, I didn’t have to face it all alone.

The quiet of the bunkhouse surrounded us, the weight of the day’s events lifting just a little as I drifted into sleep, safe in the presence of the one person who seemed to understand without needing words.

Ryan’s arms tightened around me, pulling me closer as if he could shield me from everything I was trying to escape. His steady presence was a balm, calming the storm inside me. The world outside faded, leaving only the quiet comfort of the bunkhouse and the soft rhythm of his breathing.

I nestled into him, my fingers tracing the lines of his chest, grounding myself in the moment. Everything felt a little more bearable with him here, and for once, I allowed myself to relax, even if just for tonight.

“Everything will be okay,” Ryan whispered, his voice low and soothing. I didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to. His words were a promise, one I could hold onto, if only for now.

As sleep finally began to pull me under, I let go of the worries that had gripped me all day. Tomorrow would come with its challenges, but for tonight, I was safe. And that was enough.

[kenziexoxoxo]

Lee Dutton x reader

Next steps

I do not own the picture

Warnings: smut

Lee and Y/n had been together for a while now and were ready to take their relationship to the next step. And tonight was the night they were in bed kissing when his hand started to palm her breast. They pulled away his forehead pressed against hers his hand still palming her breast "Hi." He mumbled. "Hi." She mumbled back blushing "I love you." He mumbled back laying her down on her back moving on top of her. She hadn't gotten dressed after her shower so she just had a towel on He slowly peeled the towel away groaning at the look of her naked body he stripped his shirt off he wore under his flannel and quickly un did his belt and shucked his jeans and boxers off. His tip smacked above his belly button. He pumped himself twice before dragging it through her folds and pushing in. She moaned at the feel he was big bigger than anyone she's ever had before. He started off slow making her eye rolls into the back of her head. He slowly picked up his pace rubbing her clit she started to shake as her eyes rolled to the back of her head her nails digging into his back as she cried out as she came. He followed behind shooting his seed deep inside her.

Thanks for reading sorry for a short and craopy tonight I'm at families and it's hard to write smut lol

[venactricisfics]

Bucking Tradition: A Yellowstone Fanfic

Chapter Nineteen

Adult content ahead

Another day broke, bringing more of the same heartache. The cattle were gone, but their loss lingered, heavy as the morning fog. The field was tainted, poisoned beyond saving. We’d have to burn it—couldn’t risk the clover taking root and turning this whole damn nightmare into a cycle.

I moved to saddle my horse, needing the familiarity of leather and reins to ground me, but Dad’s voice cut through the silence.

“No horses,” he said firmly.

I exhaled sharply, setting the saddle back down.

“I hate this fucking thing,” Colby muttered, eyeing the four-wheeler like it had personally offended him.

“They have no soul,” I agreed, climbing onto one of the cold, unfeeling machines.

Colby glanced over at me. “You sure you wanna be a part of this?”

“Where else am I gonna be?” I replied. There was nowhere else. No escaping it. This was our burden to bear. 

“I checked every manifest at every airstrip in the county,” Kayce said, jaw tight, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Nothing.”

“He got that plane from somewhere,” I countered, arms crossed. “We just have to find it.”

Dad nodded, his face lined with the weight of too many problems and not enough time to solve them. “You’ll be riding with Agent Hendon today,” he told Kayce. “He knows the job. Learn from him.”

Kayce exhaled sharply, his displeasure evident. He’d never been one to take orders well, especially from people he didn’t respect yet. “Y’all sure you don’t need help around here?”

“I got it covered,” I assured him, feeling a small sense of relief—if Kayce was out chasing leads, that meant Ryan was staying behind. It wasn’t the time to think about that, not with the stench of rotting cattle still thick in the air, but I couldn’t help it.

“Find the plane, son,” Dad instructed, his voice carrying the weight of command. “And if you find anything, don’t confront anyone. Call the sheriff for backup.”

We all knew that last part was wishful thinking. Kayce wasn’t the type to wait around when trouble presented itself. If he found the bastards responsible, backup or not, there was going to be a reckoning.

Kayce didn’t argue, but the look in his eyes told me he was already planning to do things his own way. With a nod, he turned and left, heading off to chase ghosts in the sky while we dealt with the nightmare rotting right in front of us.

“Sweetheart,” Dad called out to me, “ride out with Ryan on the Tracker. I’d rather you not go out there but I know there’s no stopping you.”

I gave him a nod. He was right; there was no stopping me. I was gonna do what I could to help this family, this ranch. Dad had to know that it meant something to me. 

“Ok, Dad,” I responded. I loaded a few more containers of gas in the back of the Tracker and sat on the passenger's side. 

“Hey,” Ryan said slipping behind the wheel.

“There’s no door on this thing so I took the liberty of climbing in myself,” I offered him a weak smile, “your gentleman card is still intact.” 

Ryan smirked as he started the Tracker, the engine rumbling beneath us. “Good to know,” he said, glancing over at me. “Wouldn’t wanna lose my credentials.”

I let out a small breath of a laugh, but it didn’t last. The weight of what we were about to do pressed down on me again, threatening to suffocate any moment of lightness. Burning the field was the only option, but it felt like we were setting fire to more than just the land. It was a loss we’d have to swallow, another scar on a ranch already full of them.

Ryan must’ve noticed the shift in my mood because his expression softened. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked. “I know you feel like you gotta, but—”

“There’s nowhere else I’d be,” I cut him off, looking out over the field. The sun was rising over the valley, golden light stretching across land that had been ours for generations. Land someone was trying to take from us, piece by piece. “This place is my home. My family. I have to do something.”

Ryan nodded, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Alright then, let’s get to work.”

The Tracker jolted forward, kicking up dust as we headed toward the field, the smell of gasoline already thick in the air.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time we finished, casting an orange glow over the field soaked in gasoline. The smell clung to everything—our clothes, our skin, the very air around us. The fire department stood by, hoses ready, river water already pumping to keep the flames contained.

Ryan’s voice was gentle but firm as he stepped closer. “Tie your hair back, baby.”

I met his eyes for a moment before nodding, pulling off my hat and setting it on the hood of the Tracker. My fingers worked quickly, twisting my hair into a knot at the base of my neck. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me, heavier than the heat that hadn’t even reached us yet.

As the first torch was lit, I pulled my bandana up over my nose, bracing myself for what came next.

I slipped my hand into Ryan’s, seeking something solid amidst the chaos. His fingers curled around mine, steady and sure. Together, we stood in silence, watching the flames consume the field, the fire crackling like a living thing as it devoured everything in its path. The heat licked at our skin, the smoke stung our eyes, but neither of us moved.

This wasn’t just grass turning to ash—it was loss, it was anger, it was a warning. And we stood there, hand in hand, as it all burned.

I didn’t care at the moment that my father was standing next to Rip, Lloyd, and the rest of the ranch hands just a few feet away. The world around me felt heavy, and the chaos of everything—the burning field, the threats on our doorstep—had all piled up, suffocating me. But in Ryan’s grasp, I found something that calmed the storm inside me. I needed this, needed him, just to feel that grounding connection.

His presence was a lifeline in the midst of the fire, and for a brief moment, nothing else mattered. Not the ranch, not the enemies, not even the past—it was just us, and I held onto that with everything I had.

—-

I sat at the table between my brothers, trying to focus on the meal in front of me, but the tension in the room was thick. The sound of Beth’s boots stomping on the hardwood floor announced her arrival before she even spoke.

“Even your walk is angry, honey,” Dad said, the comment light, but his eyes were sharp, knowing she wasn’t in a good mood.

“With good reason,” she responded, voice cold.

I shifted in my seat, looking at Kayce. “Did you get a chance to check the airfield in Deer Lodge while you were out yesterday?”

“Not yet,” Kayce said, his expression thoughtful. “But I’m starting to think that plane’s from another state.”

Jamie jumped in, “If I can get a warrant, we can check the flight logs out of the air traffic control in Bozeman. It’ll be a lot of data to sift through,” he glanced at me, “if you got time to help me, I can—”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about work at the dinner table,” Beth scoffed, cutting him off with her sharp tone.

“This is breakfast,” I muttered, my fork moving absently to my mouth. I chewed slowly, not caring to rise to the bait. The bacon was just crisp enough to ground me for a moment. “Whatever you need me to—”

“This is not a breakfast table, this is a dining room table. How do I know it’s a dining room table? Cause it’s in the fucking dining room,” Beth sneered, storming off before anyone could respond.

Dad sighed, his voice carrying the weight of years of patience. “Stop wasting your time, son,” he told Kayce, ignoring Beth’s latest outburst, his eyes narrowing. “Go to the source. I want him to know what we know.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Jamie asked, eyeing Dad skeptically.

“If I didn’t think it was a good idea, I wouldn’t have suggested it,” Dad replied firmly, his tone brokering no argument. Jamie only nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. He was still on Dad’s shit list, trying his damnedest to work his way off it. It wasn’t easy, and I could see the frustration in Jamie’s jaw as he tried to bite back his annoyance.

“Wear your badge today, Kayce,” Dad added, the authority in his voice rising. “Take Ryan with you. Keep it official.”

Kayce shot me a look as Dad turned his attention elsewhere. I gave him a slight nod, signaling that I was on board with whatever he needed. He stood up, stretching out his back, and headed for the door to start his day.

“I hate when y’all do that shit,” Dad muttered, shaking his head as he watched Kayce leave.

I smirked, rolling my eyes. “You just don’t get it, Dad.”

“No, I get it,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s just… annoying. You two think you’re so clever with that silent communication shit.”

“It works,” I shot back, grinning. “You just have to be paying attention.”

“And you,” Dad’s gaze locked onto Jamie, sharp as a whip, “you’ve lost the right to question me for a while.”

Jamie opened his mouth to argue, but Dad was already turning, striding out of the room with his usual purposeful gait. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving a heavy silence in the wake of his departure.

Jamie let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes briefly meeting mine. “This is bullshit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face.

I leaned back in my chair, not saying anything. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Jamie didn’t need my sympathy, but I knew this wasn’t easy for him. Hell, it wasn’t easy for any of us.

—--

Meeting with the new attorney general was definitely not how I wanted to spend my time, so I left that to Dad and Jamie. It wasn’t my fight to fight, and right now, I had other things on my mind.

I climbed into the cab of my truck, the seat feeling unfamiliar beneath me as I slid it forward. The worn leather groaned, settling into place as I adjusted myself. It felt strange, almost like the truck missed Ryan’s presence behind the wheel.

Pulling out of the ranch and heading toward town, I let the familiar rhythm of the drive calm my nerves. Shopping for Ryan’s new shirt was a simple distraction, and the photoshoot with Wrangler was business as usual. My sponsorship deal was one of the few things that felt grounded in a sea of chaos.

Despite everything that was happening with the ranch, the cattle, and Beth’s disastrous investment, I couldn’t help but think that every little bit of support would count. I wasn’t sure how much of my money Jamie intended to put into saving the ranch, but I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he was mulling over how or if he could funnel any of it into covering the losses.

The whole situation made me uneasy, but I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t just about the money. It was about our family, our legacy. And right now, I wasn’t sure where I fit into that picture.

The photo studio had been styled to feel like a ranch house, and it was so familiar that I almost felt at home. The rustic vibes, the soft lighting—it could have been my own living room. There was a strange sense of ease in the midst of the chaos, as I was primped and prodded for the shoot. My hair was curled just right, makeup meticulously applied. When they were done, I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

I chuckled to myself. Honestly, it felt a bit ridiculous. Why bother with all the makeup when most of the shots were going to be focused on my backside?

“Drop your shirt off your shoulder and look back at me,” the photographer instructed, his voice authoritative but calm. I felt a flicker of discomfort but did as he asked.

“Tilt your chin up, look at me like you’re looking at your cowboy.”

I immediately thought of Ryan—his rugged smile, the way his eyes softened when he was looking at me. A small smile tugged at my lips as I pictured him in my mind.

“Perfect,” the photographer said, snapping away. He was pleased with the shot. Then he asked a few other models to join me, positioning them to capture the different styles of jeans we were showcasing. He took photos of us from the waist down, the camaraderie of the group lightening the mood a little.

Even though the shoot was just part of business, I couldn’t help but think how odd it was to be standing there, pretending to be someone else for the camera while my life was burning down in other ways.

“That’s a wrap,” the photographer called, snapping his camera one last time. “I’ll send you copies of the proofs for your approval to your email this afternoon.”

“Ok, thanks,” I replied, offering him a smile. The day had gone by faster than expected, though I was glad it was over. My truck was loaded with “free” samples—Wrangler jeans for everyone on the Yellowstone, along with a blue plaid button-up shirt that I knew would look perfect on Ryan. It saved me that extra trip to town for shopping, which was one less thing to worry about in the midst of everything else going on at the ranch.

I drove past the house, stopping at the bunkhouse. I wanted to see my cowboy in person. I liked thinking of Ryan as mine, even if we hadn’t slapped a label on whatever this was.

I pushed the door open and leaned inside. Damn, it always smelled like sweat, leather, and bad decisions in here.

"Think someone can give me a hand?" I called out. "I can’t carry all this in myself."

Colby scooted back from the table, eyeing me over like he couldn’t quite place what was different. "You look... different."

"What he meant to say was nice," Avery corrected, shooting him a look.

“What’s with the makeover?” Colby asked, crossing his arms.

“Long story,” I said, smirking. “But y’all get to reap the spoils of my labor.”

Colby, Jimmy, and Jake grabbed the boxes from my truck. Inside, I motioned toward the first one on the table. "That’s a box of women’s jeans," I told Avery. "Take your pick. Hopefully, one of those other boxes has a pair that’ll fit Jimmy.”

"Hey!" Jimmy protested. "I’m a perfectly average size!"

Colby snorted. "Buddy, you’re one growth spurt away from needing the kids' section."

Avery shook her head, already digging through the pile. "Thanks," she said. "You sure about all this?"

I shrugged. “Wrangler foots the bill, so unless you have some deep moral opposition to free stuff, go wild.”

Ryan finally walked in, spotting the blue plaid shirt in my hands, then glanced at me with a lazy grin.

“Hope that’s my replacement,” he said.

I held it up to his chest, nodding in approval. “Figured I owed you after the last one met an untimely death.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping low. “Gonna make me work for it?”

I smirked. “Always.”

Colby groaned. “I swear, if you two start making eyes at each other, I’m leaving.”

“Colby,” I shot him a grin, “I finally let you in my pants, and this is how you show gratitude?”

He barked out a laugh. “Well, hell, when you put it like that—”

Jimmy choked on his beer, slamming the bottle down as he coughed. “Christ, give a guy some warning before you drop shit like that.”

Avery smirked, sorting through the jeans. “I knew you had a favorite ranch hand.”

Ryan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His amused gaze flicked between me and Colby. “Should I be jealous?”

I snatched a pair of jeans from the pile and lobbed them at Colby’s chest. “Relax, cowboy. You’re the only one who gets in them.”

Colby caught them with a smirk, holding them up like a trophy. “Damn. Now these just feel sentimental.”

Ryan shook his head with a slow chuckle. “I swear, the things I put up with.”

I shot him a wink. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“Well, I do like the way you fill out those jeans,” he smirked, his gaze dragging over me with appreciation.

I turned around slowly, giving him a full view. “That so?”

His smirk deepened. “Mm-hmm.”

I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “Not gonna lie… getting these off might take some effort.” I tugged at the waistband for emphasis. “Might need a little help—if you’re game.”

Ryan pushed off the doorframe, closing the distance between us with that lazy, confident swagger. “Darlin’, I was born for this kind of work.”

“I’m glad you’re not opposed to a little overtime,” I teased, looking up at him. His Livestock Agent jacket was still on, his badge hanging from his neck, gun resting at his hip—looking every bit the cowboy lawman.

“Everything go alright with you and Kayce today?”

Ryan let out a small chuckle, pulling me closer. “Riding along with your brother is… interesting.”

I quirked a brow, knowing he wouldn’t spill details without a little encouragement—not that I minded encouraging him.

“This,” I murmured, letting my fingers graze over his badge, “looks good on you.”

"Y’all know we’re still in the room, right?" Jimmy chuckled.

"And?" I didn’t even bother looking away from Ryan.

"See? I told you—goo-goo eyes. Every damn time," Colby snickered.

Ryan smirked, finally glancing over at them. "One day, Colby, we’ll find you a girlfriend so you can make eyes at someone too."

"You wanna get changed and relax?" I slid my arms around his waist. "Then we can talk about your day."

Ryan smirked, his hands settling on my hips. "I was thinking about taking a shower…" He gave my ass a slow, deliberate squeeze. "But something distracted me."

"I hate distracting you," I murmured, my gaze locking with his.

His lips brushed my cheek, teasingly soft. "No, you don’t." He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "But you could always join me—y'know, if you really wanna make it up to me."

"I do want to make it up to you," I murmured, letting my arms slowly slide from around his waist. "Go grab your stuff, and I'll meet you there."

I walked into the bunkhouse bathroom, eyeing my reflection in the mirror. Still me, just... a little more polished. I kicked off my boots and started unbuttoning my shirt, then my jeans. Honestly, I wasn’t joking about how much effort it took to peel these jeans off. They were tighter than I usually wore for riding, but I couldn't deny how Ryan looked at me when I wore them. Hell, who am I kidding? I loved the way Ryan looked at me, no matter what I was wearing.

"And here I was, hoping stripping those off of you would be my job," Ryan said, leaning in the doorway, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

I raised an eyebrow, teasing, "I could always put them back on if you'd prefer."

Ryan didn’t hesitate, crossing the room in three quick strides. "You better fucking not," he muttered, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss.

I clung to his arms as he stripped the rest of my clothes away, his movements quick and efficient. We left a trail from the door to the shower. I'd worry about that later. Much later.

His hands smoothed over my thighs, and instinct had me wrapping my legs around his waist as we stepped into the shower. I held on to his shoulders, pressing myself against the wall as he kept me steady.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing over my jaw.

“Ryan, please,” I groaned, the heat of his body searing into mine as I felt his thickness pressing against me.

He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from my neck. “Tell me what you want, baby,” his voice was low, thick with desire as he teased the sensitive skin near my pulse.

“I want you inside me,” I moaned, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He didn’t hesitate, adjusting his grip on me as he lifted me slightly, shifting us both into the perfect angle. With a steady, purposeful thrust, he filled me completely, and I gasped, my body instinctively clinging to him.

His breath was ragged against my ear as he began to move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and steady, the heat between us building. My hands grasped at his shoulders for stability as his body rocked against mine, pushing me against the shower wall.

I arched my back, pulling him closer as each movement grew deeper. A wave of heat spread through me, tightening my grip on him. Every shift of his body seemed to intensify the sensation, and the world outside the shower faded away. All that mattered was the rhythm between us, the way our bodies connected with such raw urgency. My breath hitched, a gasp escaping as he adjusted, finding a new angle that sent me spiraling.

"Ryan," I cried out, barely able to breathe. He tightened his hold, his own rhythm steadying, and I surrendered to the feeling, lost in the moment.

Ryan let out a deep groan, his movements slowing as he reached the peak of our shared connection. We stayed locked together, breathing heavy, savoring the closeness. I clung to him, feeling the heat of our bodies pressed so tightly together. His forehead rested gently against mine, and his smile softened as he held me close.

"I just can't get enough of you," he murmured, his words a quiet, heartfelt confession that made my chest flutter.

“I’m yours,” I whispered, my legs barely holding me up, feeling the weight of the moment.

“Steady, baby,” he murmured, his hand catching my arm to steady me. “Can’t have you actually falling for me.”

“Who says I’m falling?” I shot back, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. As I turned away, I let the water hit my skin, its warmth soothing the tension from the day. But it didn’t compare to the heat of his chest against my back. Ryan’s arms slid around me, pulling me closer until I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“Careful, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “You might convince me otherwise.”

I leaned into him, letting the water cascade over us, the quiet hum of the shower filling the space around us. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my back, a rhythm that matched my own, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.

"You know," I whispered, "I’m not sure who’s falling here." 

“Baby, I already fell,” Ryan murmured, tightening his grip around me. “But let’s get you cleaned up before I start thinking about getting you dirty all over again.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his words, but my attention was immediately caught by his hand reaching for the bottle of 3-in-one body wash.

I wrinkled my nose as I glanced at the label. “We need to work on that. Products are sold in separate bottles for a reason.”

Ryan shrugged casually as he lathered up his hands, then started smoothing them over my back. “It does what I need it to.” He flashed me a mischievous grin, his fingers gently gliding across my skin, the scent of the body wash mixing with the warmth of the water.

I couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Well, I guess it is doing a good job then,” I teased, trying not to get too distracted by the way his hands moved so effortlessly over me. "But I swear, if I catch you using a 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash next time, I'm banning you from my shower."

Ryan laughed softly, his lips brushing against my neck as he leaned in. "Noted," he whispered, his hands sliding lower as he continued his work with the body wash. "But hey, multitasking—it's a skill, right?"

“You’ve got skills,” I said, relaxing into him as his hands continued their steady rhythm. “But the body wash has nothing to do with it.”

Ryan’s chuckle vibrated against my back, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “Well, I guess I’ll have to work harder to prove you wrong then.” His hands moved a little lower, his touch purposeful yet gentle. “You’ve got me all figured out.”

I grinned, looking up at him over my shoulder. “I’m not trying to figure you out,” I teased. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

—

Dressed in one of Ryan’s oversized t-shirts—at this rate, I was sure he’d run out of them soon—I stepped out of the bathroom. The moment I emerged, every set of eyes in the room snapped to me. They didn’t need to say a word; they knew exactly what had been going on in there.

Avery grinned and shook her head. “Girl, you are loud.”

I shot her a playful wink. “He just knows what he’s doing, that’s all.”

Ryan stepped out of the bathroom behind me, and I could practically hear the collective thoughts of the room—silent, but undeniable.

I tucked my feet under me as I settled beside him on the couch, my phone clutched in my hand. I bit my lip, a little hesitant, before I glanced at Ryan. “Can I show you something? Promise you won’t laugh?”

Ryan gave me a playful smirk, one that made my heart skip a beat. “I can’t promise I won’t laugh, baby. Not until I see it.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. I opened the email from the photographer and scrolled through the images, my finger hovering over a few, debating whether or not to show him. I finally held my phone out toward him, the pictures of me in various poses on the screen. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

“Baby, you look beautiful,” Ryan said, his voice low and sincere, “You always do.” He pointed at one of the photos—the sultry, off-the-shoulder shot. “Send me that one.”

I raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at my lips. “You want a picture of me on your phone?”

He shrugged, his smirk playful. “If you want to send me a pic of these,” he gave my breast a gentle squeeze over my shirt, “I wouldn’t mind either.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “You are such a man.”

Ryan leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear. “I’m just being honest.”

I gave him a sideways glance. “But I might surprise you.”

I sent him the image, then casually scrolled to another—the one of me with the other girls, just waist down, showcasing the different jeans.

Ryan barely glanced at it before smirking. “That one is you.”

I arched a brow. “Oh yeah? And how exactly do you know that?”

He shot me a look like I was crazy for even asking. “Baby, you didn’t think I couldn’t pick your ass out of a lineup?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You might have a problem.”

“Nah,” he said, pulling me closer. “Just priorities.”

“That was my day,” I dropped my phone in my lap and leaned my head against his chest, “how was yours?”

“It was– strange,” he said, “handcuffs, the trunk of a car, Kayce almost tossing a guy off his balcony.”

“That’s a lot of words you just said without telling me anything,” I responded, “we can revisit the handcuff thing if you want…”

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You get stuck on the wrong details, baby.”

I grinned up at him. “You’re the one who brought up handcuffs. What’d you expect?”

His hand slid lazily up and down my arm. “Well, now I know where your mind went. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Damn right, you’re not,” I smirked before nudging him. “But seriously, back up. Who was in the trunk of a car?”

“I was cuffed in the trunk of a car, well, the back of an SUV,” he said, “asshole didn’t ask me for the key.” 

“I’m still not following,” I listened to his rambling retelling of his side of the story. They had confronted Jenkins.

“And the balcony?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Kayce didn’t actually throw him off. Just… dangled him a little.”

I lifted my head, eyes narrowing. “Define a little.”

Ryan hesitated, then finally admitted, “Feet were off the ground. Over the railing.”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “And you didn’t stop him?”

“That’s why he didn’t get thrown off the balcony,” he answered, “And besides, you know your brother. Once he gets an idea in his head…”

I exhaled sharply. “Did you at least find anything useful today?”

Ryan gave me a look. “We found out that dangling a man off a balcony makes him real chatty. Jenkins doesn’t know shit about the cattle.”

I shook my head, laughing despite myself. “I swear, between you and my brother, I’m gonna have gray hair before I hit thirty.”

—--

Denim was just as ready as I to show off what we’d been working on. I wanted to get a little practice in before Travis and his crew arrived. Rip was raring to win a few dollars up against him. 

I stopped outside the arena, watching Jimmy, of all people, practicing his reining. I had to watch this. 

Leaning against the fence, I crossed my arms and smirked as Jimmy guided his horse through the pattern. He wasn’t bad—hell, he’d come a long way from the green kid who could barely stay in the saddle. But he still had that stiff, overly concentrated look, like he was afraid to breathe wrong and mess it all up.

I waited until he finished his rollback before calling out, “You sure you ain’t got a stick up your ass, Jimmy? ‘Cause you’re riding like you do.”

Jimmy nearly lost his seat at my voice, fumbling to keep control. “Damn it, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

I chuckled, resting a boot on the bottom rail. “Wasn’t sneakin’. Just trying to figure out what in the hell you’re tryin’ to do.”

“So, you just run down there and say, whoa, right?” he asked.

“I think there’s a little more to it than that,” Walker said sitting on a bench outside of the arena, ‘coaching’ Jimmy.

“You know how to do it?” Jimmy asked.

“Well, I ain’t gonna win no money doin’ it, but I don’t think you are either,” Walker replied. 

“I’m a little thin on options,” Jimmy said. I chewed my lip; I couldn’t solve everyone’s problems. And men even green men like Jimmy wouldn’t want me just bailing them out of whatever mess they’d found themselves in. 

“Just run down the area, point your belt buckle to the sky, keep your eyes on the top of the barn, open up your feet, and say ‘whoa.’” I told him. 

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at me. “That sounds too simple.”

I smirked. “Ain’t my fault you complicate things.”

He muttered something under his breath before turning his horse toward the far end of the arena. I could see him psyching himself up, shoulders stiff, gripping the reins like his life depended on it.

Walker chuckled, shaking his head. “This is gonna be good.”

Jimmy took off, his horse moving at a decent clip, but instead of flowing with the momentum, Jimmy looked like he was bracing for impact the entire time. When he reached the spot, he threw his weight back, yanked the reins, and hollered, “WHOA!”

His horse skidded to a rough, choppy stop—more like a stutter step than a smooth slide—and Jimmy damn near toppled forward out of the saddle.

Walker let out a low whistle. “Well, you technically stopped.”

I leaned against the fence, biting back my laugh. “You were supposed to keep your ass in the saddle, Jimmy, not launch yourself into orbit.”

Jimmy groaned, rubbing his lower back. “Pretty sure I just compacted a few vertebrae.”

“Try again,” I said, adjusting my hat. “This time, loosen up. Your horse knows what to do—you just gotta let him.”

Jimmy shot me a look but turned his horse around, determination tightening his grip.

Walker leaned back on the bench, smirking. “How many tries before he gets it?”

I considered. “Depends how many times he’s willing to eat dirt before he listens.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Walker drawled, watching as Jimmy took off again—stiffer than a damn board.

I lifted my eyes, catching the site of Ryan, Colby, and Jake riding in from the field. Likely preparing to join in on the festivities when Travis arrived. I might have let my eyes linger. But only for a minute. 

I missed Jimmy’s first successful slide. 

“There you go,” Walker cheered. 

“Woo! I think I can do this,” Jimmy called over to Ryan and Colby, “You see that?” 

“We seen you, Jimmy, looking just like Andrea Fupani,” Colby called back.

“Who?” he asked.

“He’s a champion reigner,” I told him. 

Jimmy looked smug as hell, sitting a little taller in his saddle. “Damn right I am.”

Ryan smirked, riding up alongside me. “Should we tell him it’s Andrea Fappani or let him keep feeling like a big shot?”

I chuckled. “Let him have this moment. It ain’t often Jimmy gets to feel like a champion.”

Colby, never one to miss an opportunity, called out, “Hey, Jimmy, you planning on entering the next reining competition?”

Jimmy rubbed his chin like he was seriously considering it. “Maybe. If I keep this up, I might take home a belt buckle or two.”

Jake snorted. “Hell, if you win a belt buckle, I’ll let you wear it right across my forehead.”

“That a promise?” Jimmy grinned.

“Why don’t you stick to the friendly competitions before you start rodeoing,” I told him. 

I turned back to Ryan, letting my gaze linger a little longer this time. He caught me looking and smirked. “Like what you see, baby?”

I tilted my head. “Just checking to see if you were sweating. Wouldn’t want you tuckered out before the real competition starts.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping just low enough for only me to hear. “Darlin’, I don’t wear out that easy.”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I played it cool. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

Music started playing in the arena as Travis and his cohorts gathered to show off their stuff. It was all beers, horses, and a good time. Maybe a friendly wager among them.

The first rider took off, slid to a stop.

“Hey Colby, how far was that one?” Travis called. 

“About 25!”Colby called back.

“Damn you bring the sharks when you come here, Travis,” Rip chuckled.

“What are you talking about that’s just a God-fearing family from North Texas,” Travis responded. 

“Of course they are,” I shook my head and smiled eyeing at least three fierce competitors from the circuit among the God-fearing family. 

“Alright, fuck it,” Rip said riding off to take his shot.

“You want me to hold your beer?” I asked. 

Rip shook his head and headed off to the end of the arena. His horse took off and slid to a stop. Not quite sliding as far as he hoped.

“Shit but I did it with a beer in my hand so that’s gotta count for something,” he called. 

“That’s not gonna get it done,” Travis laughed as he headed to the end of the arena, his horse sliding at least thirty feet.

“You gonna give it a shot, Alex?” he asked.

“Sure, why not,” I smirked I nudged Denim’s side as we trotted to the end of the arena. I lengthened the reigns in my hand as he took off running. I circled the arena once as I stood in the saddle as we made our way our way back down I crouched down, maintaining my balance as I slid my horse to a stop. 

“Now that’s just fucking showing off,” Travis shouted. 

“Colby, how far was that?” I asked. 

Colby gave an exaggerated whistle, squinting like he was taking real measurements. “I’d say ‘bout thirty-five feet—plus style points.”

Ryan chuckled from where he leaned against the fence. “Style points don’t count, baby.”

I flipped my hair over my shoulder and grinned. “Maybe not in competition, but they sure as hell count where it matters.”

Travis laughed, shaking his head. “Ain’t nobody here surprised you pulled a stunt like that.”

Rip groaned, taking a sip of his beer. “I don’t know why I even try with you.”

“Because you like losing to me?” I teased.

Rip huffed but didn’t argue.

Travis leaned on his saddle horn, eyeing me. “You ever get tired of running around Yellowstone, you let me know. I got a spot for you.”

I smirked, nudging Denim toward the fence where Ryan was standing. “I think I’ll stick around here for a while.”

Ryan reached out, brushing his fingers over my knee. “Good answer.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Goddamn lovebirds. Someone else get out there before I lose my appetite.”

As if on cue, Jimmy rode in on his horse, looking way too confident for someone about to get his ass handed to him.

“Jimmy, come here,” Ryan called him over, waving him down like he was about to save his life. “I’ve been watching these guys, and I don’t know if you get to choose who you run against, but whatever you do—don’t go against him.” He pointed. “Or him.” Another point. “And under no circumstances, go against him.”

Jimmy scoffed. “You saw me slide this morning—I’m feeling kinda lucky.”

Ryan sighed. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

“The kid’s fucked,” Jake chuckled.

“Like a tied goat,” Ryan added.

I shook my head, biting back a laugh, really hoping it was a Jurassic Park reference and not some actual goat-related atrocity.

“Hey, you,” Travis called out, eyes locked on Jimmy. “What’s your name?”

Jimmy sat up a little straighter, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. “Jim.”

“Alright, Jimmy,” Travis smirked, “get over here, and let me explain the rules.”

Jimmy muttered, “Wish me luck,” before heading over.

“Sweetheart,” I called after him, shaking my head, “you’re gonna need more than luck.”

Travis rattled off the rules. “It’s a pay-up system. You come in last, you pay everyone that beats you. Second-to-last, you pay everyone but the bottom, and so on. Got it?”

Jimmy nodded, but the look on his face said he very much did not get it.

“You’re the new guy with the freshest horse,” Travis grinned. “You go first.”

I groaned in second-hand embarrassment as Jimmy trotted his horse off in the wrong direction before realizing his mistake and turning around.

“Alright, Jimmy, you got this!” I cheered, more hopeful than convinced.

Jimmy nudged his horse into a gallop. He reached the end of the arena, said whoa—and his horse slid to a stop. A very, very short stop.

“What’s that, about three, four feet?” Travis called, cackling. “I don’t think you even need to measure that one, Colby.”

The entire “God-fearing family” proceeded to smoke Jimmy, including the mom, who slid her horse at least fifteen feet longer than he did.

Jimmy slumped in his saddle. “I can’t play this game—I don’t have enough horse.”

Travis barely suppressed a grin. “Wanna trade?”

Before Jimmy could process his mistake, Travis swapped horses with him.

I sighed, already bracing for round two of this disaster.

Travis rode to the end of the arena on Jimmy’s horse, casually removing the bridle and reins before taking off like he had all the confidence in the world—which, to be fair, he did. With nothing but a shift of his weight and the sound of his voice, Jimmy’s own horse betrayed him, sliding a solid fifteen feet like it had been holding out on him this whole time.

Jimmy groaned, rubbing his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Meanwhile, Travis’ beast of a horse stood stock-still, unimpressed by Jimmy’s attempts to coax it forward.

“Come on,” Jimmy muttered, tugging at the reins. “Work with me here, big guy.”

Lloyd, watching from the sidelines, finally had enough. He hopped over the gate and strode toward Jimmy like a man with a purpose.

“Get off the damn horse, Jimmy,” Lloyd said, exasperated. “Before you hurt yourself, the horse, or both.”

Reluctantly, Jimmy swung down, muttering under his breath.

Travis, still grinning like a cat with a fresh bowl of cream, rode back over and slid off Jimmy’s horse. “Don’t worry,” he said, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder. “I’m not gonna take your money.”

Jimmy perked up. “Really?”

Travis shrugged. “Nah. Ripping you off wouldn’t even be fun.”

The entire bunkhouse roared with laughter. Jimmy just sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

“Next time, I’m picking my own competition.”

“Next time,” Ryan smirked, “pick a new hobby.”

[happys-crazy-queen22]

What Love Is

Gif credit @bodybebangin.

Hope you all enjoy.

Walker watched as you came out on your horse Thumper. Your hair swaying in the wind. Your breasts bouncing as the horse trotted along the patch. Walker knew it was wrong to look or even think about you but you were so damn beautiful that you took over his mind with everything you do.

"Boy, you better put your fucking eyes back in that damn head of yours". Lloyd warned bringing Walker back to his reality, fixing the fence.

"I'm not looking". Walker lied with a smirk to his lips. Lloyd knew better.

"If I was you, I'd stay far away from miss Y/N Dutton. Mr. Dutton will skin you dick first for looking at his youngest daughter". Lloyd scoffed at how cocky Walker was.

"I've learned my lesson with the farmers daughter. Ain't going to happen again". Walker simply said.

"Fuck, what am I doing"? Walker panted as he kissed your lips. His tattooed hands kneaded your ass as he held you up against the wood wall.

You let out a giggle when Walkers beard tickled your neck as he moved along your jawline. "What does it look like"?

"Getting myself killed for messing around with you". Walker grunted when you snaked your hand down his tight jeans. Your soft cool hand, wrapped around his hot hard cock. "Oh fuck". Walkers head fell into the bridge of your breast. 

"Why dont we go to my place and continue this? We can fuck as loud as we want". You purr into his ear while you leave light kisses to his neck.

Walker shakes his head no but his body is telling him different. "I shouldnt be doing this. I've learnt my lesson". Walker let's go of you and steps back buckling his belt.

"Do you not want to be with me"?

"I do. I really do but I cant do this again". Walker picks his hat up from the ground.

"What again"? You question with confusion.

"You know how I went to prison"?

"Yeah".

" At my old job I fell for the farmers daughter and when we got caught I was told to do a job or be fired. I couldn't lose my job so I did as I was told and got seven years for it".

"My father wouldnt do that to you. He'll understand. Since we're in love". You tried to reach for his hand but he stepped farther back.

"I can't take that chance. I love you but I love my freedom more. I'm sorry". Walker hesitantly backed away. He wanted to stay and fuck you but he knew this was the right decision.

You gulped down your tears and headed to the main house. Your father and Rip were sitting on the porch. "Good night, darlin". Your father got up from his chair and kissed your temple.

"Can I ask you something, daddy"?

"Anything"? He put his pipe in his mouth.

"When did you know you loved momma"?

"The first time she rode a horse. God, she was beautiful. She was like on top of the world and I was there to serve her every need. I knew that she was mine".

"Even when Papa told you to get lost and never see her again"?

"That just made me more in love with her. Dont let anyone get in the way of true love, even if it's your daddy". John chuckled but he was serious. He wanted his kids to be happy and find someone to love and grow old with.

"Thanks, daddy". You kissed his cheek and jumped off the porch, heading to the ranchhands bunkhouse.

"Where are you going"? John called after his daughter.

"I'm gonna get my man". You turned your head and said with a laugh.

"Should I stop this, sir"? Rip asked coming over to John's side.

"No, if this is what she wants. Then let her go. She's got a good head on her shoulders. She's like her momma". John smiled and went to puffing on his pipe.

Turning the door handle you bargained into the bunkhouse. All the guys screamed when they saw it was you. They were changing.

"What the hell are you doing in here? I'm not decent". Ryan gasped covering his naked chest.

"Shut up, Ryan. Walker"? Your gaze turned to Walker who was laying in his bunk.

"You came for Walker"? Ryan gasped again more dramatically. Colby smacked him to shut him up.

"What are you doing in here"? Walker quickly got out of bed and backed you to the door. You held onto his arms.

"I need to tell you something".

"It can wait. You need to leave now".

"No. Walker I love you". You blurted out, making everyone in the room jaws drop. 

"No you don't. I'm not good for you, Y/N". Walker sighed.

"I love you so much that I'm willing to risk everything and run away with you. I'm willing to leave everything behind and go with you because I can't stand  being without you".

"I love you too but I can't ask you to do that".

"No one asked. I'm doing it because you mean the world to me. I want to have a family with you. Get married, live on a little piece of land, raise a dozen kids and grow old together. I want that so bad". You said teary eyed. Walker smiled widely.

"With me"?

"With you. Only you. I don't care if my father disapproves. I just know that I cant stay away from you. I know you want me too but have you seen yourself"? You laughed, making Walker snicker.

"I love you too, Y/N". Walker pulled you by the waist and wrapped his arms around you. He took your chin in his hand and kissed your lips soft and gentle.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. "Just dont go doing any jobs Rip has for you to do unless you get it okayed by me first". You giggle into his lips.

"Okay". Walker cracked up.

"What's going on here"? Both Walker and you gulped, when hearing your fathers voice behind you.

"Walker's the one you want to be with"?

Letting go of Walker, you turned to face your father.

"Yes. I love him and I want to be with him. You have a problem with that"?

"No".

Walker felt like he could throw up after hearing that. He was so relieved. You jumped and wrapped your arms around your fathers neck. "Thank you, daddy".

"Thank you, sir". Walker held out his hand for John to shake.

"You hurt her in any way. You wont have to worry about going back to prison. Rip has a nice hole dug for you, just waiting if you screw up"? John warned but with a chuckle.

"I promise I wont. She means everything to me". Walker smiled at you.

John nodded and exited the bunkhouse. Letting out and excited squeal, you through your hand over Walkers neck. "Wanna continue what we started"?

"Yes, ma'am. Goodnight y'all". Walker scooped you up bridal style and headed out the door to a new and exciting future. Hoping he never screws up.

[happys-crazy-queen22]

A Fling With A Surprise

Gif credit @stilinski-ortiz-dolan

Gif credit @bodybebangin.

Requested by @stellarosedutton. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for the request.

My first Walker and Colby imagine. I hope it's okay.

"Go get grandpa". Your daughter, Amethyst Rose squealed running on her wobbly feet. She had just started walking and she is now on the go all the time.

"Paaaa". She stumbled and fell but got right back up.

"She's like her momma, doesnt cry when she falls". John chuckled as he picked her up. 

"Yeah, I was taught to be strong". You smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Your husband is down at the barn". John said looking away. He wasnt to fond of Walker. No one really was. But you saw something in him that no one else saw.

"I was just heading that way. Amethyst has a doctors appointment". You say before walking to the barn. Your father took Amethyst into the main house to spoil her even more than she is.

"Hey beautiful". Walker spoke before you even got into the barn.

"How do you always do that"? You giggle wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

"I know your foot work".

"You ready? We gotta be there in thirty minutes".

"Yeah, let me go change my shirt and I'll meet you at the car". He kissed your temple and started to the cowboys bunk.

Going back up to the main house, you saw Colby talking with your father and Rip. Then you heard screaming and giggling coming down the steps of the house. Tate was chasing Amethyst and ran right past Colby.

You might think nothing of it but Amethyst is Colbys. You had a fling with him one night and never spoke about it since but then you got pregnant and just never told anyone that she was his. Then you met Walker when you were six months pregnant, got married four months later and he's been Amethyst dad. Oh I didnt mention that Colby never knew I was pregnant, I hid it from my family until I met Walker.

"Amethyst". You called after her and ran scooping her up. "Thanks for watching her dad.  I'll see you later". You didn't look at Colby as you walked away but his eyes were on Amethyst.

"Y/N, hold up". Colby called after you and now the cat was out of the bag.

"Yeah"? You gulped as he came closer. Amethyst laid her head on your shoulder sleepily.

"I know this might be off but um is she mine"? Colby scratched his chin, just gazing at Amethyst.

"Yeah".

"Why didnt you tell me"? Colby asked. He was wasnt upset or angry.

"You didnt speak to me after we hooked up. So I figured you were just ignoring me and staying away".

"It was awkward. Rip found me coming in late and I told him. He knows about us".

"I know. No one else knows. Not even Walker. I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want any riff between the two of you".

"So I'm supposed to let Walker raise my daughter"? Colby scoffed.

"She's my daughter". Walker scared you both. You seriously needed to work on your tracking.

"No, she's mine. I didnt get the chance to be there for her cause I didnt know". Colby protested.

"I'm on the birth certificate. She calls me daddy. I'm not confusing her. So stay away". Walker warned Colby but Colby being Colby and not backing down. Colby threw the first punch and smashed his fist into Walkers jaw.

Walker stumbled but striked back hitting Colby in the nose. You covered your daughters eyes.

John and Rip tried pulling the cowboys apart but they weren't letting each other go.

"Walker stop". You yelled. This was not how it was supposed to go when it happened or if at all.

A gun shot rang through the air. Rip stood there with his gun pointed to the sky. Colby and Walker panting. Their shirts ripped, faces mangled.

"Colby, get out of here now".

"But-". Colby tried to protest but Rip wasnt having it".

"Now".

"Get him out of here, Y/N". Your father told you and you grabbed Walkers hand pushing him into the car. The doctors appointment would have to wait.

Arriving at your house, you laid Amethyst down and patched up Walker.

"Why didnt you tell me"?

"It wasn't your business. Plus I didnt want to make it worse for you than it already is".

"It is my business. I'm your husband. I'm her father". Walker hissed when you put peroxide on his wound.

"I know. But now I'm thinking I should've told him. Gave him a chance to be a father figure in her life".

"I'm her damn father. No man is going to replace me". Walker hit the table. You jumped, you never seen him this mad. Walker got up and stormed out, slamming the door. Waking Amethyst.

You had to go see Colby. It wasnt right not having him know and now you felt guilty. Heading back to the ranch, giving Walker time to cool down. You went and saw Colby.

"Hey". You stepped threw the door. Rip, Ryan and Colby were talking.

"We're just leaving". Rip spoked, nodding to Ryan.

They came to you and Rip picked up Amethyst. "I'll take this". Rip said with a chuckle. Ryan giggled. They both adored her.

"You okay"? You bit the inside of your cheek.

"You should have told me. I would have been there". Colby sighed.

"I didnt know that. I was young. We both were. But that's no excuse. I should've told you". You walked over to the table and sat down beside him.

"I'm not trying to replace Walker as her father. I just want to be part of her life. She looks like me".

"She does. Has a smaller head then you though". You tease. Colby gasped and nudged your arm.

"I want to be there for her. Like I could babysit when you and Walker need a break. I just want her to know me. I dont have to be her dad. I can be an uncle".

"Yeah. She'd like that". You say with a smile.

"Can I be honest"? Colby looked into your eyes.

"Of course".

"When I saw her coming out of the house. I thought I was in a dream. It wasn't real. Like this little girl looked just like me. I was scared when you said she was mine. I wasnt ready to be a dad. I guess you saved yourself a hassle. Walker stepped up and I'm grateful for that cause he's probably doing a better job than I would have. I'm just not ready to take on that responsibility. I'm a horrible person". Colbys head hung low.

"Colby, you're not a bad person. I'm glad you told me this.  I'm relieved to say the least. She'll be honored to have you as an uncle. We'll just keep this between us six. No one else has to know". Your squeezed his arm.

"Thanks. I'm sorry".

"Nothing to be sorry over. We just deal with the hand we're dealt with. I'm a mom to an amazing little girl. You're going to be an awesome uncle".

"What about Walker? He'll kill me".

"Dont worry about him. I'll take care of that". You say with a smile. "But I need you to put those uncle skills to the test". You said with a smirk.

"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into"? Colby chuckled, shaking his head.

Deciding to leave Amethyst with Colby and the others for a few hours, you headed home. Hopefully by now Walker has cooled off.

Walking into the house, it was quiet. But you heard some rustling in the bedroom.

"Babe"? You called out, coming into the bedroom. Walker was laying on the bed shirtless and his pants unbuckled as if he was going to bed.

"Where's Amethyst"? Walker asked, taking the rolled up toilet paper from his nose.

"She's with her uncles".

"And her new daddy". Walker scoffed. "You here to get your things and move in with him"?

"No, you dipshit. I'm here to tell you that you're the only daddy she will ever know. Colby doesnt want that role. He's uncle Colby. He's thankful that you stepped up and took care of her. Of us". You replied, getting on the bed and sitting up beside him.

"He wouldnt just do that. He's crazy if he did".

"Baby, he got scared when he found out that she was his. He was just putting on a show. He doesnt want to ruin her life. You're daddy and he's uncle Colby. We're fine. Theres only six of us that know and we're all keeping quiet. Amethyst has a great thing going, none of us want to ruin it". You kiss his check quickly.

"Sorry, I got angry. I just didn't want him to step in and take away our bond. I didn't want to lose my family ".

"You're forgiven and you're never going to lose us". You moan, running your hand down Walkers chest, slipping your hand down his pants. "He's promised to babysit when we need a break". You whisper into Walkers ear as you nip at his ear lobe.

"I'm liking uncle Colby". Walked flipped you over on your back, his hands went to your clothed breast, squeezing them and then raking his fingers down your torso.

"Come here". You grabbed Walker by the back of his neck and pulled him to your lips. Walker shimmied out of his jeans and pulled your dress up around your hips.

"I love you so much". He grunted into the kiss as he pushed your panties to the side and thrusted in you.

"Fuck. I love you". You gasp, as he lifts your leg over his shoulder and thrusts in deep. He kissed up and down your leg. Your fingers pinch your hard nipple through your bra.

"Mmm. We should give Amethyst a sibling". Walker said way out of the blue.

"You serious"? You panted, licking your lips.

"Why not"?

"No reason". Your head fell back as the tip of Walkers cock, brushed against your gspot.

"I'm taking that as a yes". He growled, speeding up his pace. He wrapped his arm your neck and kissed you deeply with passion and lust. This little break, you could get use to it.

While Walker and you were deciding on a sibling or not. Amethyst was having the time of her life. Colby was playing tea party with her and making mud pies. He was making mud pies. She was throwing them at her other uncles as they watch.

"She's going to need a bath. A hosing off before she goes home". Lloyd chuckled.

"I'm not sure I'm fit for that. I agreed on watching her. Not putting her in water and trying not to let her drown". Colby said a little scared. The others laughed.

"Just take the water hose and rinse her off. Itll be alright". Ryan suggested.

Colby of course listens to them and starts to wash Amethyst off, well he lays the water hose down and she happily picks it up and starts spraying everyone. Theres laughter and screaming as they got sprayed.

"What's going on here"? Walker came up to the water hose party.

"He did it". Ryan, Lloyd and Jimmy all pointed to Colby who was soaked from head to toe.

"Great job". Walker shaked his head. Colby frowns. "Baby, put down the hose, please". Walker walked slowly up to Amethyst and snatched the hose away.

"I'm sorry. I'm not fit for this". Colby sighed.

"No. You're not. But she's having fun and she's alive. That's all that matters. Y/N and I have a date night every Friday night. You're going to watch Amethyst for us. Just try and not burn down our house". Walker laughed, sticking out his hand.

Colby smiled and shook it. "No promises.  Thanks Walker".

"Sure. Oh and clean this mess up. See y'all tomorrow". Walker picked up his muddy little girl and headed home. This was the life for everyone. Didnt matter how it got this way. It just is and theres no use in fixing something that isn't broke.