I only stopped when I made it to my clearing. I say my clearing like it wasn't owned by John Dutton. It was, but I called it mine. It was mine because I had never seen anyone else in it. Who's to say a pack of wolves didn't camp here when I wasn't or a mama bear and her cubs didn't sleep here at night, but I haven't ever seen any living thing in this clearing beside me, the trees, and the flowers.
I dismounted Rip's horse and tied him to a branch jutting out from a thick tree. The river was babbling off some distance away, but loud enough to sing in the back of my mind.
The clearing was encircled by tall trees, standing proud as they had for a hundred years. Flowers were sprinkled throughout the tall grass, blues, yellows, and pinks.
I sat in the grass and leaned back on my hands. I tipped my face up to the sky and let the sun wash over me. Something was different about the Montanna air. It felt fresher, crisper. Untouched by anything besides me.
A voice in the back of my mind was telling me that I should talk to Ryan. That I should apologize for leaving him five years ago-
No. No, I can't do that. I thought to myself. It will do more harm than good.
I can't apologize to him because I'll end up saying things I don't want to say.
_____
"So why do you live in a different house?" Jimmy asked me as I sat at the dining room table in the bunkhouse.
It was the early morning, and I had just woken up all the wranglers. I sat with my feet propped up on the table, sipping my coffee, and watching the wranglers get themselves ready.
"Because John Dutton told me no fifteen-year-old girl should live in a bunkhouse with a bunch of cowboys."
"You were fifteen when you got here?"
I nodded. "Shouldn't you be getting ready, Jimmy?"
"Right, yeah-" He turned, stopped, then looked back at me. "How long have you been here?"
"Twenty years, Jimmy. Now go get ready."
He nodded and walked into the bathroom.
I looked around the room, beginning to recognize the faces I hadn't yesterday.
Then Ryan walked out of the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks as if I hadn't worked here for longer than he had. As if he was surprised I was here. I stared at him as I raised my mug to my lips and took a long sip, not about to look away first.
Ryan looked away and continued getting ready.
The door swung open loudly. I looked at the entryway, and there was Lloyd. "Get out here, Cass."
I nodded and followed him out to the porch.
He leaned against the railing but pointed at one of the rocking chairs. "Sit."
I sighed and sat. "Yes?"
He shook his head as he looked at his boots. "I feel like I have some authority to say that you're being an ass."
Not even close to the worst words I've heard from Lloyd.
He looked down at me with his brows scrunched. "I think it's time you talked to him about-"
I shot to my feet. "Absolutely not. Are you kidding me, Lloyd?"
"Look, I-"
"Only you, Rip, and John know about my story, and it is going to fucking stay that way, you understand?"
Lloyd kept her stare.
"Do you understand, Lloyd?"
"Cass, of course I do, but-"
"Nope, no buts, we're not talking about this anymore," I said and slammed my coffee mug on the railing and went down to the barns.
_____
I slammed to the ground, face-first, for the third time. Or maybe the fourth.
The damned horse still wouldn't give in to me. Rip said no one had been able to break him in the last couple of weeks. But I got back on him, slowly, carefully, and gripped the reigns.
There was blood coming out of my nose, dirt covered me everywhere, and I was sure to have bruises everywhere on my body tomorrow, but I kicked the horse in the stomach anyway.
It bucked hard, and I gripped the horn and tucked my chin. It did everything in its power to get me off. It wanted me off so badly, until-
I landed hard on my side, my right shoulder taking nearly all of the impact. I groaned as I tried to get up before the horse could trample me. I spit blood onto the dirt and looked up to see all the wranglers watching me from outside the pen.
I kept at it for two hours until my body was begging me, screaming at me, to stop. The wranglers had moved on to their own work.
I noticed only a small amount of progress with the horse, but it was only just starting to get tired. And I felt like I could've slept for two days.
I led it back into the stables, threw some hay in there with him, and locked the door.
_____
The wranglers were showering and getting ready for another short night's worth of sleep. I took up my usual spot at the dining table and made sure none of the idiots were doing what idiot wranglers did.
I wouldn't say that I have a set position in the Yellowstone ranch, not like Rip as ranch foreman, but whenever I keep an eye on the wranglers they stay more subdued than normal, and John noticed.
Colby was fixing his hair in the mirror, Jimmy was lying in his bed, Ryan walked out of the bathroom, shirtless and a towel around his waist-
I looked away quickly. Not that I hadn't seen all the guys in this bunkroom more than I wished, but I looked away.
I heard Ryan slap Jimmy on the knee. "Next up."
I looked back up, Jimmy was still lying in his bed.
"That's you," Fred said. His face held a permanent scowl, and as long as I've known him, I've never liked him.
Jimmy just stared at the ceiling. "I'll wait for the water to warm."
Fred stood, his fists clenched. "You keep saying that and keep not doing it. I'm the one who's got to sleep next to you." He got up in Jimmy's face. "TAKE A FUCKING SHOWER." He yelled, and every wrangler in the room turned towards him.
"Alright, that's enough," I said and stood from the table.
Fred turned to me, his eyes narrowed.
I sighed and leaned a hip on the bedpost to Jimmy's bunk. "Fred, go worry about yourself."
He opened his mouth to say something, but Colby cut him off. "Cold showers is your future 'till they hire someone new. Might as well get used to it. We did. Better than being dirty."
Jimmy shook his head. "I'll give it an hour."
"You'll be asleep in an hour. You smell like a goat," Fred scoffed then yelled at Jimmy again. "GET. UP."
Jimmy didn't move.
I waited, waited until Fred put a hand on Jimmy.
Fred stared at him in fury, then finally- moved to yank Jimmy off the bed. "Looks like you're showering now, Jimmy."
Fred laughed as he got Jimmy off the bed, and I came up behind him and grabbed the collar of Fred's shirt, kicked him in the back of the knee, and yanked him to the ground.
He fell onto his back hard and was already moving to stand, but I slammed my boot on his throat.
Fred gagged and grabbed my ankle, but I pressed down harder, and he took his hands off me. I looked back to Jimmy, his shirt was torn open, and on his chest above his heart, was the brand. The Yellowstone Y, burned into his skin, still fresh and red, still oozing puss.
I looked back down at Fred.
"You see that fucking mark, Fred?" I asked him and pointed at Jimmy. Fred didn't move but just stared at the ceiling. I took my boot off his throat, and Fred for a moment felt relief, but I kicked him in the neck with the spur on the back of my boot. He groaned in pain and clutched his neck, blood already trickling. "I said do you see it, Fred?" He looked up at Jimmy, then looked back at me and nodded. "Good," I said and shoved him with my boot away from me so that he turned onto his side. Fred scrambled to his feet and backed away from me. "Because that means you don't fucking touch him," I spat at him and met every eye in the room. Besides Ryan.
But I could feel Ryan's stare on me, and I immediately shut down. I walked out of the bunkhouse and slammed the door behind me.
Lloyd was coming up the steps quickly. "What was all the noise about?"
I shook my head and passed him. "Give Jimmy your shower in the morning. Let Fred explain what happened."