71 "the flower who grew inside me"

Patsy's hand tightened in mine the moment the music swelled.Her eyes went wide, mouth falling open as she took everything in—the fiddles and guitars, the laughter, the clinking of plates, the colors, the movement."It's like a carnival," she breathed.I smiled despite the knot in my chest. "Yeah, baby. Kinda is."The sun sat warm on our shoulders, not too hot, just enough to feel safe. Comfortable. The crowd had grown massive—faces everywhere, voices overlapping, nearly a thousand people by now. Cowboys, politicians, ranch hands, families. All of them gathered for something bigger than me, yet I felt too seen all the same.

I wore a tight black dress, formal enough for the event. I hadn't tried to stand out—but it did it for me anyway. Eyes followed as we walked, and I pretended not to notice.

"Mama," Patsy said, tugging my hand. "Can we get food?"

"Of course."

I led her toward the long serving tables where Gator stood behind a spread that smelled like heaven. The second he looked up, his face softened.

"Well I'll be damned," he said with a grin. "Look who finally came home."

"Hi, Gator," I said quietly.

He loaded Patsy's plate without being asked, crouching just enough to smile at her. "You eat up, sweetheart."

"Thank you," she said politely.

I guided her to a picnic table off to the side—far enough from the speakers, far enough from the crowd. I sat beside her, smoothing her hair back, braiding and unbraiding it without realizing I was doing it. My fingers shook just enough to give me away.

That's when I felt it.

That feeling you get when someone is staring holes through you.

I looked up.

Rip stood across the party, frozen in place.

For a second, I thought I'd imagined him. Then his eyes narrowed slightly, like he wasn't sure if I was real. Like he was afraid to blink.

My stomach dropped.

He started walking toward us.

I swallowed hard, fear crawling up my spine. My lip still ached faintly—a ghost of pain—and I hated that he could see it. Hated that I felt small again.

Rip stopped in front of the table.

Up close, his eyes softened. Saddened. They flicked to my mouth.

"Did I do that?" he asked quietly.

My throat tightened. I didn't want to answer him. Didn't want to open that door.

But I did anyway.

"Yes."

His jaw clenched. "Willie, I—"

"It's okay," I murmured, though it wasn't. My head dipped, eyes fixed on the table.He took a breath, voice rough. "I'm sorry. I never— I'd never hurt you on purpose."

Before I could respond, Patsy beamed up at him.

"I'm Patsy," she announced proudly.

Rip blinked, then smiled.. then really smiled. kneeling slightly so he was closer to her level.

"Nice to meet you, Patsy."She giggled.His eyes flicked to me, stunned, realization washing over his face. Not judgment. Just awe.I stayed quiet. Too quiet.I couldn't meet his eyes. I stared at my hands, my shoulders tight, every muscle braced like I was waiting for a blow that never came.Rip kept his voice gentle after that. Careful. Like he understood how close I was to breaking.And all I could do was sit there, shaking softly inside, hoping—praying—he wouldn't ask theRip straightened slowly, like he was afraid any sudden move would send me running.

"You doin okay?" he asked, voice low. "You don't look okay."I nodded even though it wasn't true. "I'm fine."He didn't buy it. Rip never had. His eyes stayed on me, searching my face like he was trying to read something written too small.

"You shouldn't be sittin' way out here by yourself," he said. "Crowd's big. I like it quiet," I answered, barely above a whisper.Patsy swung her legs under the table, humming to herself as she ate. Oblivious. Thank God.Rip glanced at her again, then back to me. "She yours?""Yes," I said quickly. Too quickly.He paused. "How old?""Three."Another pause. Longer this time. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he didn't know how to swallow."Three and a half!" She interrupted. "She's... real smart," he said softly while chuckling at her corrections. Looks just like you too peanut."My chest tightened. "She's everything to me."

"I can see that." His voice cracked just a hair. "You been doin' this alone?"I shrugged. "Mostly."That seemed to hit him harder than anything else. He rubbed a hand over his beard, exhaled slow."Willie," he said, gentler now. "You didn't just disappear. You vanished. Nobody knew where you went for the longest time.." He stopped himself. "I thought I lost you for good."

"I needed to go," I said. "It wasn't healthy for me here."His eyes dropped again, guilt heavy in them. "Because of me."

"Not.. not you but..." I stopped myself from mentioning Beth. That's what got me hurt the first time. "I was wrong," he said firmly. "I handled things wrong. I should've protected you. I should've listened."My hands clenched in my lap. "It's too late for should'ves. Besides. You protected who you thought needed protecting the most... and that was.. you know" again. Refusing to say her name. Rip swallowed. "You got someone takin' care of you now?"The question made my stomach twist. "I take care of myself."He studied me, like he was memorizing every change time had carved into my face. "You ever need anything, anything at all.. you come to me. Doesn't matter what happened before."I finally looked up then. Our eyes met.

"I'll remember that," I admitted." okay," he said quietly. Patsy suddenly looked up at him. "You're nice," she said simply.Rip smiled again, softer than before. "You're somethin' else, kid."I watched the way he looked at her—careful, protective, already invested...and something inside me ached in a way I couldn't name. It was like he was looking at me as a child. Rip stood back up, giving me space. "I won't crowd you," he said. "But I'm glad you're here. Both of you."As he walked away, my heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.Because for the first time since coming back... I wasn't sure running had really saved me at all.

The crowd began to hush, like the whole ranch took one long breath at the same time. I felt it before I saw him—movement near the stage, microphones crackling, boots shifting on woodMy father stepped up to the podium.I listened close.Patsy leaned against me, sticky fingers clutching the hem of my dress. "Mama," she whispered, "who's that?"I swallowed hard. "That's... my daddy."John cleared his throat, eyes sweeping the crowd. His voice carried easy and steady, the same way it always had—commanding without trying."Thank you all for bein' here today," he began. "This land, these people, this way of life—none of it exists without community. Without loyalty. Without family."Family.The word hit me square in the chest.He talked about Montana, about legacy, about protecting what mattered. About making mistakes and standing back up anyway. I listened to every word like it was meant just for me, like he was somehow talking straight through the years we'd lost. And the pain he caused me. I didn't realize I was crying until Patsy reached up and wiped my cheek with her thumb. "You sad, Mama?"I shook my head, forcing a smile. "Just proud."When the applause broke out, it felt thunderous. John stepped down from the stage and began moving through the crowd, shaking hands, clapping shoulders, thanking people one by one. I told myself I had time. That he'd make his rounds first.I was wrong.He looked up—and saw me..saw us. For a split second, he stopped walking altogether. Like the world had knocked the wind out of him. Then he rushed over."Willie," he said, voice breaking as he reached me. His hands cupped my face before I could say a word. "God! look at you."I stood up, legs shaking. "Hi, Daddy." His eyes filled instantly but never puddled. He pulled me into a tight hug, holding me like he never has before.. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and dust and home."I thought I lost you," he whispered. "I've thought you left for good" "I know," I said softly. "I'm here now."He pulled back, hands still gripping my arms, then his eyes dropped. To Patsy.She stared up at him, wide-eyed but unafraid."Well," he said slowly, crouching down to her level, voice trembling. "Who could you be? sweetheart?"Patsy smiled, proud as could be. "I'm Patsy."John laughed through his choked voice. A broken, beautiful sound. "You know," he said, shaking his head, "you look just like your mama did when she was little."I sucked in a breath. The same littleGirl he had hurt time and time again. "Same hair..same smile," he continued. "Same stubborn chin." He looked back up at me, realization crashing over his face. "So this is that little thing growing inside you years ago"

"Yes," I said. "Shes my world."He reached out, hesitant, like he wasn't sure he was allowed. Patsy stepped forward on her own and took his hand. That was all it took.John closed his eyes, overcome. "I've missed so much," he murmured. "But I'm grateful. so damn grateful...you came home."He wrapped an arm around Patsy, my heart aching and full all at once. "Mama. Is this papa?" She asked. I nodded. "Yes pat. That's papa" For the first time in years, standing there under the Montana sky, it felt like maybe... just maybe... I belonged again. Maybe this is where my little girl belonged the entire time. "Well I have to get back to the event. Enjoy yourself girls. I'm expecting a papa and patsy dance sometime tonight" he sniffled, slowly hiding he was tearing up. "Yes daddy" I nodded. He gave patsy a great big smile before walking back to his swarm of people.