Penny for your Thoughts : A Yellowstone inspired story

S2 Two scoops of ice cream, three shots of vodka

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. Beth, with aching steps, made her way to the bathroom. The aftermath of the previous night's violence clung to her like a heavy shroud. Glancing at her bruised reflection in the mirror. The sight was jarring, a stark reminder of the violence that had invaded their lives.

With a heavy sigh, Beth took in the reality reflected in the mirror. Her own reflection stared back at her, a mosaic of pain and resilience. She reached for a towel, dampening it under the cool tap. The touch of the cold fabric against her swollen face brought a sharp intake of breath.

The sink, a witness to the night's turmoil, it is cluttered with tissues stained with blood. Beth took a moment to collect herself, steeling against the physical and emotional pain. The makeup on the counter seemed like an inadequate armor against the reality she faced.

Beth hesitated, her fingers hovering over the makeup, before setting it back down. No cosmetic camouflage could erase the truth etched on her skin. The scars, both visible and unsee,

As she entered her bedroom, her gaze fell upon the sight that brought a mixture of warmth and pain to her heart.

There, in the gentle embrace of sleep, Rip held Spencer. The lines of exhaustion etched across both their faces spoke volumes about the trials they had faced. Beth couldn't help but marvel at the tenderness Rip displayed in the quietude of sleep. Spencer, nestled against him.

Beth approached the bed, her movements careful not to disturb the peace that enveloped them. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on Rip's forehead, her lips lingering for a moment. The rugged features that usually bore the scars of a hard life softened in the quiet vulnerability of sleep.

The room held a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The bed, a sanctuary amidst the storm, cradled the two people Beth held most dear. She brushed a strand of hair away from Spencer's face, marveling at the innocence that sleep bestowed upon her.

Their daughter, still wrapped in the cocoon of sleep, stirred slightly in Rip's arms. He shifted, adjusting his hold on Spencer, and Beth took a step back, allowing them a moment of undisturbed connection. The weight of the night clung to the air, but here, in the quiet refuge of their bedroom, the outside world felt distant.

–

The dining room, adorned with rustic furniture, served as the backdrop for a family breakfast. John, Monica, Tate, and Kayce sat around the table, the aroma of food filling the air.

Beth, moving with deliberate caution, entered the room. Her appearance, a testament to the night's ordeal, couldn't escape Monica's incredulous gaze. John, ever the concerned father, addressed Beth with a mix of care, "How you feelin', honey?"

Beth, never one to shy away from her irreverent nature, retorted, "Like I just left the fucking spa, Dad." Her words carried a hint of pain, but the defiance in her tone remained unscathed.

As Beth attempted to partake in the morning meal, a visible wince accompanied each bite. The discomfort etched on her face didn't escape the notice of those around the table. Undeterred, she turned her attention to Gator, the chef, with a request, "Hey Gator..."

Gator, ever attentive to the needs of the Dutton family, responded, "Yeah?"

Beth, mustering a hint of a smile, made her plea, "Would you mind making me a smoothie, please?"

Gator, always up for a culinary challenge, inquired, "Sure. What kind of smoothie?"

Beth, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, quipped, "Two scoops of ice cream, three shots of vodka..."

Gator, familiar with Beth's unfiltered requests, confirmed with a chuckle, "Two scoops, three shots. Got it."

Beth, rising from her chair with a careful grace, added another request, "And would you mind bringing it to me on the porch?"

Gator replying, "Of course."

As Beth made her exit from the dining room, she paused by Monica's chair. With a sly grin, she couldn't resist a parting comment, "You should see the other guy." The nonchalant way she delivered the line only added to the mystique that surrounded Beth Dutton. Monica, still processing the audacity, couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman who seemed to dance on the edge of chaos with a fearless grace.

–

The soft creaking of the rocking chair on the porch created a rhythmic melody as Beth sat outside, sipping her unorthodox smoothie. The morning air carried a hint of tranquility, but the weight of recent events lingered in the lines etched on Beth's face.

Monica, seeking a moment of connection, approached Beth. With a polite request, she asked, "May I sit?" Beth, without uttering a word, nodded in agreement. Monica settled into a chair adjacent to Beth, the gap between them pregnant with unspoken curiosity.

As they sat in a companionable silence, Monica broke the quiet, "We don't know each other very well."

Beth, never one to sugarcoat, responded, "We don't know each other at all.." The tone in Beth's voice hinted at the layers of complexity that surrounded her."Don't worry, Monica. It wasn't my father, and it wasn't my boyfriend. This was business."

Monica, uncertain but undeterred, ventured into the delicate territory asked, " What kind of business does that?"

Beth, ever candid, met Monica's eyes, "The family business. With that face, I recommend you stick with teaching...Don't judge us for the way we protect the thing we're giving you."

Monica, caught between curiosity and reservation, expressed her genuine struggle, "I'm not judging. I just...I don't understand this place." Her words held a quiet plea for insight, an attempt to bridge the gap between her world and the enigma that was Beth Dutton.

Beth, though guarded, sensed the sincerity in Monica's quest for understanding. The tension in her shoulders eased as she sighed, "Monica, this place is... It's complicated. It's everything to us, and we fight to keep it. Sometimes that means doing things that others can't comprehend. You might not agree, but you're part of it now too."

Monica absorbed Beth's words, the intricacies of the ranch and its defenders starting to unfold before her. The morning sun, now higher in the sky, cast a warm glow on the porch, a silent witness to the complexities that bound the Duttons and those who entered their orbit.