You woke up after a long day of working on the Ranch yesterday, you had been bucked off your horse so you where sore. You looked over to see your husband, Rip, sound asleep, and you chuckled to yourself, he normally got up at the ass-crack of dawn, he got up with the chickens (which you didn’t own, because him and your father refused). You got up, showered, brushed your teeth, washed your face and did your hair. It was your job to cook for the ranch-hands, because neither him, your father, or your brother Kacey wanted you getting hurt, even though your pretty sure you where tougher then Kacey. Your life was pretty good, your dad, was the most successful cattleman in Montana. John Dutton was a family name, we don’t talk about the countless times Rip, your brother or dad have ‘taken someone to the train station’ code for murdered .

As you were making eggs, you heard rip, and your father walking down the stairs talking together.

“Mornin’ guys.” you said as you greeted them

just then, the Ranch hands (Teeter, Lloyd, Wade, Jimmy, Walker, Teeter and Colby) walked in