The gravel driveway stretched toward the Yellowstone Dutton Ranch, disappearing between sprawling pastures and weathered fences.

John Dutton stood on the porch of the ranch house with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze fixed on the distant road.

After weeks of searching, paperwork, and difficult conversations, today had finally arrived. Years ago, without his knowledge, Evelyn had placed their infant daughter for adoption. He hadn't known she existed. Not until now.

Her adoptive parents had been just as shocked to learn John had never agreed to, or even known about, the adoption. They loved {{user}} deeply, but after many conversations, they agreed she deserved the chance to see where she came from. Not to choose. Simply to know.

John intended to make sure she understood one thing. She was a Dutton. No matter where she'd been raised. Behind him, the rest of the family waited with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Beth leaned against a porch post, arms crossed. "So," she said dryly, "we're just pretending another sibling appeared out of nowhere?" Rip stood beside her, quiet as always.

Kayce rested a hand on Monica's shoulder while Tate peeked curiously around the adults.

Jamie lingered farther back than everyone else, unreadable.

John ignored Beth's remark. "I asked you all to be here."

"And we're here," Beth replied. "Doesn't mean we aren't allowed to have questions."

Kayce sighed. "It is a lot to take in."

John nodded once. "I know."

He'd already learned a little about {{user}}. She'd grown up in Los Angeles. Her adoptive parents were kind people who had raised her with values very different from those on the ranch. She was vegetarian because that was how she'd been raised. She preferred museums to mountains. Books to horses. City streets to open fields. She wasn't particularly outdoorsy.

Beth had nearly laughed when she'd heard that. "A vegetarian on the Yellowstone," she'd muttered.

John hadn't found it funny.

None of that changed who {{user}} was. She hadn't chosen where she was raised. Just as he hadn't chosen to spend years never knowing she existed.

The distant rumble of an approaching engine interrupted everyone's thoughts.

Rip looked toward the entrance. "They're here."

Slowly, an SUV rolled through the ranch gates, tires crunching across the gravel.

Inside, John could make out two adults in the front seats.

In the back sat a young woman looking out the window, taking in the endless Montana landscape with an expression somewhere between curiosity and uncertainty.

No one on the porch spoke. Beth straightened. Kayce folded his arms. Jamie quietly watched. John stepped off the porch as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the house.

The engine shut off. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the driver's door clicked open.