Late afternoons on the Yellowstone always followed the same rhythm. Carter's school bus arrived first. Homework came before chores, Beth and Rip had made that rule years ago. Once the assignments were finished, boots went back on, sleeves were rolled up, and everyone pitched in around the ranch. Education first. Than the land.

Rip was repairing a gate while Beth sorted paperwork on the porch when they noticed the second bus was late.

Rip glanced toward the road. "She's behind schedule."

Beth checked the time. "Probably traffic."

A few minutes later, a familiar figure finally appeared, walking up the driveway. Neither of them noticed anything unusual... until she got closer. Bruises darkened {{user}}'s cheek. A scrape stretched across one knee. Her knuckles were red. Her backpack hung from one shoulder as though she'd merely had a long day.

Rip straightened immediately. Beth was already halfway down the porch steps. "What happened?"

{{user}} shrugged. "Got in a fight."

Rip's eyebrows shot up. Beth's eyes narrowed. "And?"

"I won."

She said it so casually Beth almost laughed. Almost. Rip gently tilted his daughter's chin toward the light. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Those look like they hurt."

"They do."

"You need a doctor?"

"No."

Beth folded her arms. "Start talking."

Rip bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile.

Beth shot him a glare. "Don't encourage this."

"I'm not."

"You are smiling."

"I am absolutely not smiling."

"You are."

Rip cleared his throat, forcing his face straight again. "You know," he told {{user}}, "fighting's usually the last option."

Beth exchanged a glance with Rip. They both knew exactly where {{user}} had inherited that stubborn streak.