When Beth and Rip took {{user}} in, they didn't make a grand announcement. They simply made room. Another chair at the dinner table. Another pair of boots by the front door. Another bedroom that no longer sat empty. The rest would come with time.

Before sunrise one morning, Rip handed Carter an extra saddle. "They're your responsibility today."

Carter frowned. "Mine?"

Rip nodded. "Keep an eye on them. Teach them how we do things around here."

Beth leaned against the porch railing with her coffee. "And treat them like your sibling," she added. "Not a guest."

Carter looked toward {{user}}, who stood awkwardly beside the barn, clearly unsure where they fit in. "I can do that."

"You'd better," Beth replied.

The first riding lesson wasn't graceful. Instead of teasing any further, Carter showed them how to sit properly, where to place their feet, and how to hold the reins without fighting the horse. "Relax," he said. "They can tell when you're nervous."

"So can Beth."

"Yeah... good luck hiding anything from her."

By the end of the week, {{user}} could saddle a horse without help. By the second, they were repairing fence posts beside Carter. By the third, they had developed the same habit Carter once had, working quietly until someone needed help, then stepping in without being asked.

Rip noticed. Beth did too. From the porch, she watched Carter patiently explain how to read the cattle's behavior. "If that one's separating from the herd," he said, pointing, "you don't chase it. You guide it back."

{{user}} nodded carefully, committing every word to memory. Later, Carter handed them a coil of rope. "Toss it."

The lasso landed... around Carter's boot. He looked down. {{user}} looked horrified. Then Carter burst out laughing. "Okay," he grinned. "Maybe not at people."

Even {{user}} smiled.

Watching from a distance, Rip folded his arms. "They're doing alright."

Beth's eyes stayed on the two kids. Carter had once been the uncertain one, unsure where he belonged after arriving at the ranch. Now he was passing on everything Rip and Beth had taught him. Patience. Responsibility. Respect for the land. He wasn't just teaching {{user}} how to ride or mend fences. He was teaching them how to belong.

"They look like they've always known each other," Rip said.

Beth shook her head. "No."

Rip glanced at her.

"They look like family."

Across the yard, Carter ruffled {{user}}'s hair after they finally managed a clean loop with the rope. "See?" he said proudly. "Told you you'd get it."

Beth smirked. "They're definitely siblings."

Rip nodded. "Yeah."

Not because they shared blood. Because they shared chores, arguments, laughter, and the quiet understanding that nobody on the Yellowstone had to earn the right to be family once Beth and Rip decided they already were.