A/N: Holy moly, we've had a massive influx of viewers, and I am so grateful for every one of you. I came up with Marley after a dream I had when my husband and I marathoned Yellowstone and never did I imagine that this many would be interested in it. I appreciate all the follows and support and hope that I can live up to y'alls expectations!

Chapter 10: The Long Black Train pt. 2

What the hell did you do? I asked myself as I regained sensation in my limbs.

"Marley?" Jimmy carefully nudged. "C'mon."

"He's gonna kill me," I muttered, refusing to budge.

"Who? Rip?" He clarified.

I blinked. Nah, Rip I could handle. "My father," I answered. Without a doubt, Kayce and Rip were high-tailing it out there to let my father know what I have been up to. I could practically picture his face, the way he would sigh in the utmost annoyance that I cost him a wrangler.

That wasn't your fault, I attempted to remind myself. But in moments like this, it was pretty hard to believe. It was just another fuck-up on my never-ending list that I couldn't forget regardless of how hard I tried.

"He won't," Jimmy sounded concerned. "He can't."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," I apologized, finally glancing up from the dirt into his eyes. "This was all my fault."

"He deserved this, Marley," he insisted, closing the distance between us. "That piece of shit—"

"I should go," I cut him off, taking a few steps backward.

"Let me walk you up there—"

"I don't need protecting, Jimmy," I declined as politely as I could manage. "But thanks."

My heart squeezed in my chest as I saw his face grow discouraged, so much like how Toby had stared at me from the other side of the truck cab.

I turned my back to him and walked toward the house before he could say anything else. Without a doubt, Daddy and Rip were on their way back to reprimand me, explain to me all the trouble I caused.

Aren't you getting a little old for this shit? I questioned and plopped myself down on the front steps. It had been what, ten years or so since Daddy lectured you about skipping school with Cody Baron in high school. Since then, I flew so far under his radar that I could have gotten away with murder.

But now that all-too-familiar churn in my gut swirled as I sat waiting for them to return. Nervous to find out what Rip told him, scared of what he would say when he finally lays eyes on me. Then again, what could he possibly say now that would break me more than his silence already has?

I sat there on the front porch, basking in the evening sun, waiting like an old dog for its owner to come home. It wasn't until maybe half an hour later that I saw movement in the distance by the trees. My heart started to pound out of my chest as I saw the men on their horses, galloping across the field toward the property.

Well, this is it, I thought and watched them arrive at the stables. But I quickly noticed something was off, how Kayce hurridly dumped his horse and rushed Tate up the drive toward their truck without waiting to say goodbye to anyone.

"What happened?" I hollered toward him and stood, trying to make sense of his sudden change in demeanor.

He ignored me and put Tate in the passenger seat of his truck. As he walked around the tailgate, I shouted again to try to get him to answer me. "Kayce!"

He slid into the driver's seat without acknowledging me, threw the truck into reverse, and sped down the driveway in a cloud of dust.

"What the fuck?" I muttered, staring off after him. I was so dumbfounded by Kayce's sudden fit I hadn't even noticed Daddy making his way across the yard.

My heart plummeted into my gut as he neared. I scanned him and noticed that he seemed just as irritated as Kayce did only moments ago. The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he sauntered up to me, hardly noticing that I was standing on the stairs until he was right up on me. He blinked, surprised to see me, before nodding slightly in my direction.

"Sweetheart," he acknowledged and moved past me inside the house without saying another word.

I stood there, dumbfounded. That was it? Even after that, he still had nothing to say to me? Just as I turned over my shoulder to watch him go, Rip's voice startled me.

"Marley," he called and motioned me over to him. "C'mere." By the way he sighed, I could tell he's had a hell of a day.

Guess that makes two of us, I thought as I obliged, marching over to him. I did my best to hide the fact that I felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, but I wasn't sure how successful I was in doing so.

This time, I locked gazes with him, staring straight into his blue eyes. It was fascinating that almost depending on the moment how his bright, blue eyes could turn dark and menacing like the sea.

Though there were countless times that I resented Rip, it was usually attached with a feeling of disappointment. No matter how many ways he tried to distance himself from me, I couldn't stop myself from forgiving him in hopes that one day he would see me differently.

I often dreamed about the first time I recognized my feelings for Rip. When I was 8 or so, I was walking beside one of the old fences along the driveway, dragging my hand along the posts, singing as I wandered down the driveway. I let out a loud yelp and pulled my hand away when I felt a sharp stab in the meat of my palm, clutching it to my chest. Tears began to blur my vision as I inspected it, noticing a dagger of white wood buried in my hand.

My throat tightened as I began to cry, believing that they would have to perform surgery just to get it out. As I fumbled back up the driveway toward the house while clutching my hand, my wails caught the attention of a nearby wrangler who bounded off the porch toward me.

"Hey now, what's wrong?" he questioned and knelt in front of me, his black hat shading me from the sun. "What happened?"

Unable to form words through my chokes, I held out my hand for him to see. He grasped my tiny hand between his large fingers and examined the splinter.

"Oh, I see," he remarked. "I bet that hurts, huh? C'mon, let's go find your brother." He picked me up in his arms and carried me down to the stables. As I held onto his neck I remembered how quickly my sobs went away, how comforted I felt in his arms, knowing that he was going to take care of me.

He promptly found Lee, busy with tagging some of the new calves, who quickly hopped over the fence at the sight of his younger sister in the wrangler's arms.

"It's buried pretty deep," he explained to Lee, who studied my palm.

"Probably need a needle to dig it out," Lee sighed.

At the mere mention of a needle, my tears returned as I yanked my hand away.

"Hey, now," the wrangler encouraged. "You don't want that thing stuck in your hand forever, do ya?"

I shook my head, squeezing my throbbing hand against my chest. The men guided me into the stables where they retrieved one of the first aid kits, setting me down on the table in the tack room. Lee used alcohol on a cotton ball to clean it off while the wrangler offered me his hand.

"Go 'head and give it a squeeze— you won't hurt me," he grinned. I timidly took his hand as Lee held onto my other palm, alternating between tweezers and a needle to dig out the wood.

No matter how hard I squeezed his hand, he never flinched or pulled away from me. He stood firm, cheering me through the pain and tears, telling me it was almost over until finally, Lee triumphantly held up the splinter.

"Got it," he grinned and placed a bandage over the wound.

I let go of his hand as he rubbed my back. "You were so brave," he grinned, his bright, blue eyes making my heart flutter in my chest as I stared up at him.

"Thanks, Rip," Lee nodded his appreciation as he hoisted me from the table, ready to carry me up to the house where maybe I wouldn't find so much trouble.

"Sure thing," he responded and winked at me while I stared over my brother's shoulder until I lost sight of him.

Rip didn't wink at me now, nor did he rub my back or tell me how brave I was. Now, he motioned for me to follow him over toward the big pine tree next to the house. I did so quietly, still confused over how my father could ignore such news of his daughter.

"You didn't tell him?" I asked, staring up and waiting for an answer.

Rip didn't return the gaze as he replied, "'Cause it doesn't change my decision. It would only bring him more pain that he doesn't need right now."

He would be pained if he knew? I scoffed in my head, my eyebrows furrowing. I found that hard to believe. My jaw tightened as I grumbled, "God, why do you love him so goddamn much?"

His head whipped over to me and moved so that he blocked my path. "Hey," he snapped. "This ain't about me. This is about you. Sit down," he instructed and motioned to the closest adirondack chair.

I hesitated for a moment, defiant, before giving in, not wanting to make things worse for myself than they already were. I did as I was told and sat down, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.

"Now," he continued and folded his arms over his chest. "Tell me what happened."

"Why do you care?" I muttered and rolled my eyes.

"Dammit, Marley," he sighed. "Do you want everyone to be against you, huh? Is that what you want? I'm trying to help you."

"You can't help me," I spat, bitterness stinging my cheeks.

"I can't if you don't let me," he replied. I could tell he was fighting the urge to be annoyed with me, hiding it as best as he could, though I was eroding his patience.

"What does it matter anyway? As you said, it doesn't change your decision, he's gone, right?" I glared up at him.

"Marley," he warned, kneeling in front of me. "Talk to me."

I froze, staring into his eyes. I could see it in his face—he was genuinely concerned. There was something in his expression that told me without a doubt that he wanted to know what happened not just to hold over me as leverage, but because he actually cared. My heart clenched in my chest as I swallowed hard, shoving my pride back down before I could push him away any more than I already had.

"He caught me by myself," I began, feeling a sudden shudder in my chest as I pulled the details forward in my mind. "I didn't think he would actually do it. I told him no Rip, I swear— but—" I sucked in air and bit the inside of my lip, feeling tears threaten to fill my eyes. "He told me that if I yelled for help he would say it was my fault," I explained, squeezing my hands together until my nails made imprints on the backs of my palms.

"Hey," Rip reached out and placed his hand on both of mine. "It wasn't your fault."

"I couldn't get away from him," I breathed, trying to force the tears from gaining strength. "I didn't know what to do."

"Why did Jimmy know about this?" He asked evenly.

I shook my head, "He found me afterward. I told him not to tell anyone. He wanted me to go to you, but—"

"I'm sorry, Marley," Rip apologized, stopping me in my tracks. "I should have known. It wasn't a secret that Fred was an asshole. I failed you, Marley, and I failed your father."

My eyebrows knit together as I tried to understand him. "What do you mean?"

"I told him I would protect his family, and I didn't keep you safe," he explained with utmost seriousness. I was speechless as we stared at each other, my heart thudding in my chest as he squeezed my hands. "I won't let it happen again," he reassured.

For a moment, I forgot how to speak. The only thing I could manage was a slight nod.

You're close enough you could kiss him, I thought, my mouth drying up as the potential tears evaporated.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," he stood and held out a hand for me. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. Rip escorted me as we slowly made our way to the porch.

The sun had sunk low over the mountaintops by now; the trees and grass around us turned a deep blue color as the crickets began chirping in tune with each other. It was that perfect time between when the sun began to set and the porch lights turned on.

"Fred's lucky that Lee wasn't here for this," he sickly commented after a few moments of silence.

I raised an eyebrow, shocked by his candid remark, and peered up at him for the rest of it.

Rip shook his head, chuckling in his throat. "Lee would've bashed that fucker's brains out all over the side of that barn."

Even I couldn't help myself from grinning.

My skin tingled all over as if a thick layer of muck and filth had shed away, leaving fresh, healing skin behind. I felt as if I could truly breathe for the first time in weeks.

It was dark by the time that Rip nodded his usual polite tip-of-the-hat acknowledgment and made his way down to the bunkhouse. Just as he disappeared, I made out two figures loading into one of the ranch's pickup trucks. I didn't need to see their faces to know it was Lloyd and Fred. I thought about what Rip said, about how Lee would have beaten him senseless if he were there today. While part of me wanted to be better than that and appreciate that he was gone for good, I couldn't ignore the pleasure it brought me to picture that fucker sniveling on the ground. A victorious smirk grew in the corner of my lips as the truck rolled down the gravel, carrying that man to god-knows-where. Good fuckin' riddance.

I caught a glimpse of the house over my shoulder as someone moved around in the living room. Even though I had come to treasure my new living accommodations, I still missed my old bed, the window that overlooked the valley, and even though I didn't always believe it, I still felt a bit more like a family when I lived in the same house as him.

You could just take a peek, I thought as I hesitated to tiptoe up the stairs. No one would know. Maybe you could even grab a few of Gator's biscuits before you leave.

Since Beth's car was still missing, I felt that now was the only real chance I would have at getting away with it scotch-free. At least if Jamie saw me, he wouldn't think anything of it.

My hand prickled as I grabbed ahold of the doorknob before carefully pulling it open, just enough so that I could squeeze through. I peered around the living room, taking in the warm glow of the candles and lanterns around the house. It felt like it had been ages since I was last here, but it hadn't changed in the least bit. Though, I wasn't really surprised. No one dared to change a thing after Momma died. Even Daddy was in his usual spot in front of the fireplace.

My heart lept into my chest as I looked back over him, hunched down in front of the fire, muttering to himself.

"Daddy?!" I rushed around the couches to get a clearer look. "Are you alright?"

Puzzled, my eyebrows furrowed as I glanced at the bills that he crumpled in his hands. He had hung up his hat and changed into a cardigan and shirt, a rare and odd sight to see him without his usual attire. I must've caught him off guard as his eyes whipped up at me like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yup, I'm fine," he reassured, stuffing his billfold into his back pocket and standing up straight with a stifled groan.

I stared at him, now posing against the mantle as if it was the first time I could clearly see him. I always thought we were completely different people regardless of our relation. But looking at him now, the glow of the flames dancing over his worn face, I realized that we are the same: driven by fierce loyalty but intensely faulted in pride that caused us to push away even the people we want to love.

When I hovered a bit longer than usual, he raised a puzzled eyebrow and glanced over at me, lost in deep thought. "Everything alright?"

My lip quivered slightly and I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten. "N- no," I heard my voice reply. "I'm not."

At this, he turned to face me. His eyebrows were knit together in a concerned expression as he examined my face. It felt like I was dragging my legs through sand, forcing myself against a current that was formed from habitually locking everything away inside. I wanted to be able to tell my father that I missed my brother. Tell him that I am struggling with knowing where I belong, that his daughter had been assaulted. I didn't know what I was doing, or how to navigate the channel, but I knew I wouldn't have this opportunity again.

"I- um," I stammered, trying to remember how to speak. "I want to know why."

He blinked. "Why what?"

The words poured out of my mouth as the floodgates ripped apart, allowing the current to rage like a broken dam. "Why you barely talk to me, let alone look at me. What did I ever do? How did I not measure up? I want to be a part of this family, I wanted to help and contribute and fight for us but at every turn, I was told it wasn't my place, and yet you have Beth on the front lines doing God-knows-what."

I couldn't stop once it started. Tears sprung in my eyelids as I unpacked everything from inside, throwing it out onto the lawn like a crazy ex. "I tried, so hard, to just ignore it and live my own life but I can't. I can't live in your world without being reminded of what I'm not good enough to be. And maybe that makes me weak, maybe it's because of how desperate I am to just make you see me that I don't get to be a part of it. But I have to know—I deserve to know—why you can barely treat me or even look at me as if I'm your daughter."

The only noise that followed was the crackling embers in the fireplace. I couldn't even tell if my heart was beating. Though he was still facing me, his eyes had lowered to the stone hearth. I suddenly regretted all of this. It was easier not knowing, easier to pretend whatever I wanted to believe, easier than waiting for him to answer.

When he finally spoke, my gut began to churn. "Do you know why some animals eat their young?" He asked without raising his gaze.

I replied with silence.

"Cats, bears, even rats have been known to do it. The mother will pick out the weakest or the sickest offspring from the litter and kill it," he continued as he shifted his stance, now staring into the fire. "Some people might think it's cruelty, others say it's that circle of life bullshit. But really, she's doing exactly what she has to do for her child. See, she doesn't kill the strong ones, the ones that are going to make it. The mother does the hardest thing imaginable for a parent so that her child doesn't live a life of pain and suffering."

He shook his head for a moment before he continued. "I promised your mother that I would protect you and Kayce from this world, hell, you two barely knew the world that you lived in before she was taken from you," he sighed and shook his head. "Despite my efforts, I failed him; though I suppose he never really needed me in the first place. But you," his eyes rose to met mine, capturing me in his gaze that demanded attention. "I swore I wouldn't let anything happen to you, even if that meant protecting you from me."

I felt a tear roll down my cheek while my chest shuddered, drawing in a ragged breath. Gravity itself seemed to shift as everything I thought I knew began to make sense.

"She shouldn't have left all of you with me," he muttered and shoved his hands into his pockets. "She wanted more for you. She had all these big dreams, talked about how happy she was to have another girl..." he trailed off. He sniffed slightly, but I couldn't tell for sure if he had tears in his eyes or if it was the reflection of the flames. "I may not know much, but I knew I wasn't good for you."

If it had been a few days ago, I would've said I was crazy. But now, I found myself quietly tip-toeing to him until my cheek pressed against his chest between the opening of his sweater. I wrapped my arms around his midsection and held him tight as if he was the only thing grounding me to this earth. He smelled of burnt wood and leather as I closed my eyes, savoring it.

After a moment, his arms wrapped around my head as he lowered his cheek against the top of my head. I couldn't remember the last time he hugged me. Maybe it was when I was a small child, crying in the middle of the night. But I couldn't remember a time when I felt this close to him.

"I'm sorry, honey," I heard him murmur.

My heart lept into my throat with those three words. In five syllables, everything that I ever longed for, begrudged over, held in disdain, was wiped away. Perhaps that's just how it is with family: just that easy to forgive and willingly forget because the love makes it possible. Or maybe I was just so tired of the bitterness that I willingly let it melt into oblivion as if it never happened in the first place. Maybe he was tired too.

We didn't move for a long time. I could hear his thudding heart echo in his chest, hear my lungs steadily feed my body oxygen with ease, feel the tears on my cheeks wipe away on his shirt. I had waited for this feeling for so long I didn't want to lose it again.

"You look just like her, you know," he muttered against my hair.

"Who?" I softly asked without pulling away from the embrace, opening my eyes just enough to look into the embers.

"Your mother."