"Chasing after You"
Chapter 3

About a week had passed since Beth and Rip's unconventional wolf-watching date, but they hadn't seen much of each other since then. Rip was busy with their newest hire, Jimmy Hurdstrom, a local boy who'd fall off a horse as soon as look at one, and Beth had been helping to counsel her father regarding the issues facing the valley and ranch.

The sun was shining brightly that day, but it did not reflect in Beth's mood. She'd been stomping around the house all morning and had already snapped at Jamie once. John hadn't made an appearance at breakfast, so she was surprised when she saw his truck in the driveway- she'd assumed he'd gone into town early, but obviously that wasn't the case. Another surprise was an unfamiliar black SUV parked beside her father's truck. Wonder who that is? She looked around but didn't see anyone aside from a couple of the wranglers who were working close by.

Jamie was watching through the kitchen window; she had an electric heater in hand and was heading toward one of the watering troughs. "The fuck?" he mumbled to himself. She came inside and grabbed two champagne bottles from the fridge."What're you doing?" he asked, but she ignored him. "Hey! What're you doing?" he called out again, following Beth outside, towards the trough. She took a drag from her cigarette and sat down bottles

"Better turn around, Jamie. I'm in no mood to explain why we don't have the same pee pee." Her words dripped acid, but Jamie didn't budge. "Suit yourself," she scolded before dropping her robe and stepping into the trough of water butt naked. "I know it's a lot for you to process, Jamie. Only yesterday you were dreamin' of a penis."

Jamie rolled his eyes at his sister. "Yeah, well, the only thing on my mind now is how am I going to clean that trough," he replied.

Beth laughed humorlessly at Jamie and took a long swig from her bottle. "Every now and then you say something that makes me think you're smart. Then I look at you and that thought fades…"

"You're a trainwreck, Beth! Do you even know what day it is?" Jamie ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Of course I do, you prick. Do you?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah, it's Thursday," he said immediately, but Beth shook her head. "Pretty sure it is, considering I'm the only sober one in this conversation and I have a calendar on my watch." He glanced at the watch, as if double checking.

"It's the day our mother died," she spat back at him. Jamie looked like a deer in the headlights. "Bet he remembers," she said, referring to their father. Her voice was full of emotion and she could feel her eyes getting hot. Jamie softened at the realization that it was, in fact, the anniversary of their mother's death. No wonder Beth had been even more foul than usual. He shook his head as if accepting defeat and turned to go back inside the lodge.

The water was just getting warm and Beth was beginning to feel the warmth of the alcohol inside her when the question of who the strange SUV belonged to was answered. The governor of Montana, Lynelle Perry, had just come out of the Dutton house and was now striding towards her. Initially she looked confused at Beth being in the trough, then she seemed like she was going to speak; Beth didn't react, she just gave her best "eat shit and die" look to the other woman. How dare she?! Beth thought. Governor Perry must've sensed trouble, because instead of approaching Beth, she stared for a moment before turning to leave.

"Take the fuckin' reins," came another voice, this one softer and less obnoxious than that of Jamie. It was Rip; he had ridden up to where Jimmy was working and passed the horse off to him. "Eyes down."

"What the fuck do you want?" Beth snapped at him.

He immediately took off his jacket and looked down at her. "You need to go in the house." He held out the jacket to wrap her up, but she ignored it.

"The last thing I need is you telling me what I need," she replied.

"Beth, it weren't a question." She could be so damn stubborn. "Hey, I'm the one thing you can't out wrestle here."

"Don't bet on it," she replied bitterly.

Rip shook his head. "Alright, come on," he encouraged, holding the coat up again.

"Nope," she looked up at him with resolve before climbing out of the trough. "Everyone suffers today. Including you." She walked away, still butt naked, champagne bottle in hand. Rip shamelessly watched her leave before turning back to Jimmy and the others.

The kitchen of the foreman's cabin was small, but it suited Rip fine. Tonight, in fact, was the first time anyone had joined him for supper in a long time. The steaks were marinating, potatoes were in the oven, and a salad had already been made. All he needed now was Beth.

After giving her some time to cool down after the trough incident that morning, Rip had gone to see if she was alright. He'd found her in the kitchen of the main house, glass of whiskey in one hand with a bag of frozen peas in the other. "Jamie hit me," she'd said in a matter of fact tone. Rip started to bow up, but she stopped him. "It was my fault- I started it."

Rip came up beside her and took the peas, "Lemme see," he murmured. There was a slight bruise forming under her left eye, but nothing serious. He placed a small kiss on her cheekbone, just under the discoloration. "Come have dinner with me tonight?" he asked.

She didn't say anything, but instead looked up at him with a small smile and nodded. He knew there was more to her actions that day than she'd let on and he hoped that she would open up to him once they were alone.

When he was sure everything else was ready, Rip went out on the porch and sat down with a beer to wait for Beth. The sun was beginning to sink and a gentle breeze was blowing. The Yellowstone was peaceful and quiet that evening- it truly was his favorite place to be.

Beth strolled up a few minutes later, punctual as ever. She wore a red floral print dress with boots and her hair was loosely pinned back. "Whatcha doin'?" she called, once in earshot.

"Oh nothin'," he replied, "just waitin' on you." Beth had come up the steps and was now at his side. He could smell a faint trace of her perfume, a scent he would recognize anywhere. "You hungry?" he asked. "Lemme check the grill."

Rip went to check the coals of the old Weber grill and Beth went inside briefly, only to return a moment later with two beers. She opened one for herself and gave the other to Rip, who had just finished his first one.

"So," she began after taking a sip, "to what do I owe this dinner invitation?"

Rip didn't look up from the grill. "I just enjoy spending time with you, Beth. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

She thought for a moment and decided that that was an acceptable answer. Sometimes she had difficulty accepting others at face value. In her experience, after all, there was no such thing as a free steak dinner, but maybe things really were different with her and Rip. "Can I do anything to help?" she asked.

"Coals almost ready. Grab the steaks from inside?" She came back a few seconds later with a platter and two steaks, a filet for her and a T-bone for him. "Still your favorite, isn't it?" he asked, inclining his head toward the smaller steak.

"You know it," she replied with a grin.

When the steaks were done- hers medium-rare and his well-done- they went back inside and sat down at the kitchen table together. While dressing his potato, Rip nonchalantly inquired about her eye. There was a reddish blue tinge beginning to shadow her cheek. Without further prompting, much to Rip's surprise, Beth actually opened up and told him what happened earlier in the day with Jamie.

It seemed like Jamie had been looking for trouble and Beth was only too happy to give it to him. After a few minutes of heated arguing about their intentions- Beth to take care of their father, Jamie to take care of himself- Jamie finally said something Beth couldn't ignore. I can hardly remember what you were like before you killed her. She got in three swings and several well-placed slaps before Jamie finally given into her demand of "be a man," when he'd finally hit her back. She'd looked up at him from the ground and chuckled, A man would have walked away.

"Huh," Rip said plainly when she was done. "Well, trust me when I say, if he ever lays a hand on you again, it'll be the last thing he ever does."

"I know, but I can look after myself," Beth replied, thinking if only Rip knew the truth about her and Jamie.

Rip sat down his knife and fork and looked at the woman sitting across the table from him. "Doesn't mean you should have to."

Beth looked up at him, but made no other acknowledgement that she'd heard his gentle words, her walls back up as quickly as they'd come down. Rip wondered if he'd ever truly win her over...