Beth cast one more reluctant glance out over the porch before she allowed her father to lead her back inside the house. It felt wrong to let her husband leave with a woman that was really no more than a stranger to them. Even though Beth was quite certain that Rachel had no romantic interest in him whatsoever, it still didn't feel right. It was her father that suggested she ought to stay behind and give Rip and his newfound sister some privacy. Beth reminded herself that they were only driving into town to pick up Rachel's daughter. They wouldn't be gone long.
"I don't see why I couldn't go," Beth huffed. "It's not like they can't get to know each other with me there." She could hear the low timbre of her father's chuckle as he poured himself a drink.
"Don't take this the wrong way sweetie," John said, his tone clearly indicating that he found Beth's intense desire to insert herself into the situation more than just a little funny. "...But you can be a little overbearing."
Beth let out a snort of indignation as she followed her father's example and poured herself another drink. She grumbled under her breath as she hurried back over to the window with her drink, watching her husband from behind the glass.
Rip followed Rachel over to her car. It was a small ford sedan with rust along the bottom edges of the doors and crusted across the bumper. When he glanced inside, he could see the floor of the car was littered with fast food wrappers, empty paper coffee cups, and a few other items that weren't so easily identifiable. His sister was messy. Rip added that to the very limited list of things he knew about the woman.
Opening the passenger door, Rip glanced inside the small car. While he was eager to get to know his sister, he was not really feeling as eager to have his knees smashed against the dash and his feet ankle deep in car trash for the forty minute drive into town. If he squeezed his body into the small car, he knew he would feel like he was wearing it rather than riding in it.
"Let's take my truck?," he suggested hopefully. Rachel was quick to agree, leaning the top half of her body inside the car and retrieving a pack of cigarettes from the glove box before slamming her car door shut. She followed him to a large extended cab truck with the Yellowstone Ranch Logo emblazoned on the side. Once Rip started the truck, Rachel leaned forward and punched the address of the motel into the truck's navigation system. Then she leaned back and rolled the window down. Holding the half crushed pack of cigarettes towards Rip, she smiled when he fished one from the pack and clamped it between his teeth. Rachel leaned back and lit a smoke for herself. She'd been trying to quit. But the stress of the day had her craving a smoke in the worst way.
The first ten minutes of what the gps said was going to he a thirty eight minute ride passed by in awkward silence. Though they were both eager to bridge the gap between them, neither of them was sure of how to do it or what to say. Finally, Rachel quietly cleared her throat.
"I'm sure what was in the news can't even begin to compare to what our father actually did," she said. "...but I just wanted to say I'm sorry you had to go through that." Rachel nervously watched the man, waiting to see what his reaction would be to what she said. And mentally berating herself for bringing up something so horrible. She couldn't have just asked him how he liked working on the ranch? Or how long he'd been married? What the hell was she thinking?
"I'm not sorry," Rip finally said. "Everything that happened in my life led me to where I am today." Rachel smiled. There was something soothing about the sound of his voice. Like it was already familiar to her even though they just met.
"I didn't peg you as an optimist," she teased. "...But that's a nice way of looking at life." She paused a moment before she spoke again. "I'm more of a worrier. Always thinking about the worst possible outcome and preparing for it."
"You'll get along well with my wife," he quipped. Rachel laughed. If she'd learned nothing else about her brother so far, he'd certainly married well. Much better than she did. John Dutton's only daughter was a far cry from Rachel's gambling addict sex addict lunatic of an ex husband. The only thing she got out of that relationship worth having was her daughter.
Their conversation began to flow more easily after Rachel broke the ice. They stuck to surface topics for the most part. Rip told her he'd only been married for a short time but that he'd been in love with his wife since they were kids. And he talked a little about his work on the ranch and his love of horses. Rachel told him about her adoptive parents and the little pop up copy paste housing development she grew up in. Before they died, her mother ran an online custom order cake decorating business. And her father was a retired psychologist. Rachel had been divorced for about five years and she ran a small bakery and catering business a few towns over from Darby. When Rip pulled the truck into a small parking space in front of the motel, Rachel found herself wishing that the ride wasn't over yet. Everything she learned about the man just made her curious to know more. Rip had already surpassed her wildest hopes about what her brother might be like.
Rip climbed down from the truck, unaware that his reluctance for their drive to end was mirrored by the woman climbing out of the passenger side of his truck. The more Rachel told him about herself, the more he liked her. She was straightforward and blunt in a way that reminded him a little of what Beth might be like if someone turned her volume down. When he shut his door, the first thing Rip noticed was that there was loud rock music blaring from one of the motel rooms. And it was easy to see which one. Because the cheap motel windows were vibrating in time with the loud bass of the song. He could tell Rachel also noticed the noise, because her eyes widened as she rushed towards the door of the room.
Fumbling for the little plastic key card that would get her into the room, Rachel dropped it on the ground twice. Finally she managed to swipe it through the card reader and swing the door open. They were assailed by the blasting music, which was even louder without the closed door to muffle the noise. Rip glanced inside the small hotel room with amusement. There was a girl on one of the beds. If he had to guess he'd say she was about Carter's age. Or maybe a little younger. Her blue hair was flying wildly around her head and she thrashed her body in time with the music. She hit her knees, playing air guitar as the force of her impact bounced her up and down on the cheap motel mattress. When the music suddenly cut off, the girl startled, looking at her mother in annoyance.
"MOM!," she whined. "You just ruined my video!" From how loud the girl was speaking, it was obvious that she'd been playing the music loud enough and long enough that it had temporarily impacted her ability to hear herself speak.
"I told you to stay in here and keep quiet," Rachel scolded, moving quickly to turn off her daughter's phone so that their entire argument wouldn't be recorded. "...You're going to get us kicked out of this place." The girl glanced around pointedly at the cheap dingy room. Then she raised her hands in obvious mock horror, laughing at her mother's concern. This didn't exactly look like the type of place that kicked people out for playing music. Before she got bored and turned on her music, she'd watched out the window as several prostitutes came and went from various motel rooms on the upper level of the next building section over.
The girl turned, suddenly noticing that her mother wasn't alone. A large hulking man was hovering behind her, trying unsuccessfully to hide the amused smirk on his face.
"Holy crap!," the girl exclaimed, vaulting off the bed and onto her feet. "Is that him?"
Rachel nodded, confirming that Rip was indeed the man she'd come to town looking for. Her brother. And her daughter's uncle. Rachel's daughter stepped forward, eyeing Rip critically before turning to her mother. "He's a lot fatter than I thought he'd be," she announced.
"Dakota!" Rachel chided. "Apologize! Right now!"
"Sorry," Dakota said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and insincerity as she flashed the man a flippant grin. Dakota considered adding that she wasn't as sorry as whatever chair the giant bear man sat in next was about to be. But judging by her mother's current mood, she guessed her comedic genius wasn't going to be well received at the moment. So she flopped back down on the bed instead, sighing and feigning total boredom with the situation. Rachel took a deep breath.
"Just put your shoes on," she told her daughter, silently praying that the girl would just listen to her for once and not make a fuss.
"Are we going to dinner?," Dakota asked, popping back up off the bed like a deranged jack in the box. Rachel nodded and tried not to laugh as her daughter rushed around the room, throwing a button down short on over her tank top and stuffing her feet into her well worn combat boots. If there was one thing that was sure to motivate her daughter, it was the promise of food.
"Are you coming to dinner with us?," she asked, directing her question towards the large man in the doorway. Dakota's face lit up in a wicked little grin before she added, "...I bet you're hungry!"
Rachel gave her daughter a warning look, not that it would do any good. Dakota had been cooped up in the tiny motel room all day and was obviously full of more energy and attitude than usual. And she was still angry that her mother drug her along on this wild goose chase instead of letting her stay home by herself. Something Dakota considered herself more than mature enough to do.
Since her attempts to control her daughter weren't going well, Rachel glanced nervously at Rip. She let out a small sigh of relief when she saw the smile that was playing at the corners of his mouth. He was obviously more amused than irritated by her daughter's bad manners. Which was for the best, since she was sure Dakota had a lot more inappropriate comments where the last one came from.
Rachel waited until they were in the car and on their way back to the ranch before she broke the devastating news to her daughter that they were going back to Rip's house for dinner and not to McDonalds as she had promised the girl earlier that day. Dakota did a little whining and complaining. But her curiosity seemed to be winning out over her desire for junk food. She spent the rest of the ride sitting between them in the front seat, poking at her phone while she peppered Rip with questions about his status as a 'real' cowboy and what it was like to live on a ranch.
Now that her daughter was in the car, Rip noticed that Rachel did not smoke another cigarette on the way back. His sister didn't smoke around her daughter. And from what he'd seen so far, she appeared to be a good mother. He added the information to his list.
Rip had never spent any time in the company of a teenage girl before. Not since he was a teenager himself. And he was amused by the way Dakota was able to keep up a steady chirping stream of conversation with little input from him other than an occasional yes or no. Since Dakota was sitting so close to him, Rip took the opportunity to quietly observe the girl. She looked like her mother, but with darker coloring and the high cheekbones that marked her as likely being of native american descent. He wondered if Rachel's ex-husband was from the reservation. And also what her upper middle class culdesac dwelling parents had thought about her marriage.
Rip winced, feeling the urge to cover his ears as they pulled up in front of the main house. Dakota spotted a few baby cows in the pen that was visible near the closest barn. And apparently seeing a few calves caused the girl to screech at top volume as she whipped her phone out to capture pictures of the animals. Rip couldn't remember the last time he'd been around anyone that was excited to see a few cows. And he laughed as the girl nearly bowled her mother over in her rush to exit the vehicle and get a better look.
"There's a baby horse in the barn," Rip told the girl. "I could take you out to see it after dinner…"
Dakota's face lit up. She jumped up and down a few times, squealing in excitement. Since she'd been back talking her mother like she was a full grown woman, Rip found it quite comical that Dakota was so quickly reduced to more childlike behavior by a few baby animals.
Rachel heard the sound of loud footsteps on the front porch of the house. Two boys that looked to be somewhere around her daughter's age were already thundering down the steps and across the yard. She smiled, guessing by now that news of her sudden appearance must have made the rounds. The boys were obviously waiting by the window for Rip to return with her and Dakota, eager to get their first look at them. The taller of the two boys made it across the yard first, leaving the slightly younger one trailing after him. He stumbled to a stop, breathing hard as he stuck his hand out towards Dakota.
"I'm Carter," he huffed. Gesturing towards the boy that had finally caught up with him, he added, "...that's Tate."
"I'm Dakota," Dakota said, shaking Carter's hand. She looked both the boys over, her eyes lingering slightly longer on the taller of the two.
"Are these your boys?," Rachel asked, favoring the two young men with a friendly smile. Rip shook his head, pointing to the slightly older of the two.
"Only that one," he said. "Tate is Beth's brother's kid." Dakota wrinkled her nose up as she added that information up in her mind. If this man was her uncle. Then that meant the cute boy she was just ogling was her cousin. Gross!
"You're my cousin?," Dakota asked, her disappointment clearly showing on her face and in her voice as she looked at Carter.
"No," Carter quickly declared. "He's not my real dad!"
There was no response Rip could make to that other than to shake his head. Carter had been practically killing himself in his desperation to be part of their family. How quickly that changed the moment he saw a pretty girl actually hurt his feelings just a little. Rachel was biting her lip to keep from laughing at the look on Rip's face.
"I heard you got a baby horse," Dakota mentioned. Tate was quick to interject, eagerly offering to show her the animal. And without waiting for permission, the three of them took off across the lawn, heading in the direction of the barn. Rip cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered.
"CARTER!"
The boy reluctantly stopped and turned towards them as the other two kids continued to run towards the barn
"Ten minutes and I want all of you inside for dinner," Rip hollered. Carter was quick to nod his head. Then he turned and shot off like a rocket, using his longer legs to help him catch up with Tate and Dakota.
"Your stepson?," Rachel asked, still trying to hold back her laughter. Rip watched the kids until they disappeared around the side of the barn.
"Naw," he said. "He's not Beth's either. We just sort of informally adopted him." Rachel smiled, feeling her heart warm a little more towards the man next to her. From the little she knew about him, it seemed like Beth's father had done the same for Rip after his parents unfortunate demise. It was nice that he was now repaying fate and doing the same for someone else. She threaded her arm though his as they headed for the house.
