Chapter Text
Two weeks later
Beth moved like a whirlwind through the house, a duster in one hand, her phone clutched in the other as she glanced at the clock for the third time in ten minutes. The scent of vanilla and some fruity cleaner she grabbed from the shop hung in the air, windows cracked open to let the spring breeze roll in.
“Carter!” she hollered up the stairs. “If your damn socks are on the bathroom floor, I will lose it.”
Rip leaned in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, watching her pace like a lioness in a cage. He couldn’t help but smile as she hurried between surfaces of the house, her brow furrowed slightly. She looked to domesticated, so motherly and he had to shake his head in disbelief that she could ever doubt her ability to raise a girl.
“You’ve wiped that table down three times, baby.”
Beth spun toward him, eyes wild. “It was dusty,Rip.”
Rip raised a brow not about to argue but still ready with a hushed comeback . “Okay. And now it’s cleaner than a hospital operating room.” He mumbled, half praying she didn’t hear him.
Beth’s mouth opened, then closed. Her hand flailed slightly toward the hallway. “I don’t know, maybe I should go check on the bed again. What if she doesn’t like the duvet? It’s got bunnies on it. I thought it was cute, but what if she thinks it’s stupid?”
Rip pushed off the doorway and crossed to her in three long strides. “She’s five, baby. She’ll probably love the bunnies.” He assured, his tone level and breezy despite the bottomless pit of nerves whirling inside him but when Beth was like this, he had to be calm, couldn’t spook her with his own self doubt.
Beth blinked at him, her hands fidgeting at the hem of her shirt. “And the cookies, I bought them from the store. What if she hates them? I should’ve baked some. Jesus, what kind of woman brings a child into her home and doesn’t even bake fresh cookies?”
Rip chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her and forcing her to still. “You got take a breath. She won’t care that the cookie are store brought, she won’t care about the bedspread, right now all we got to focus on is settling her into another new home”
Beth let her forehead fall against his chest, breathing him in, grounding herself in the solid weight of his arms. She knew Rip was right, all that mattered was getting the little girl settled but she still couldn’t shake the gnawing in her mind.
“What if I screw it up, Rip?”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.” He tilted her chin so she had to meet his eyes. “You’d burn the world down for the people you love. That girl’s about to get the best thing that ever happened to her—even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
Beth’s lip trembled. “She deserves better than me.”
“She deserves you. And you’re gonna show her what it feels like to be safe.”
Beth closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words soak in. Then she exhaled slowly and nodded, pulling herself together in that fierce, beautiful way she did when she wasn’t falling apart.
“I still think I should’ve made the damn cookies,” she muttered.
Rip grinned, kissing her temple. “Then we’ll bake some tomorrow.”
Just then, the sound of a car pulling into the gravel drive echoed through the open window.
Beth stiffened but Rip’s hand found hers, easing the tension that had a hold on her body.
“You ready?” he asked gently.
“No,” she whispered, but her feet took her to the door anyway.
***
The gravel crunched under tires as the white SUV pulled to a stop at the edge of the driveway. Beth stood just behind Rip, her fingers clenched in the hem of his black shirt as if she could steady herself with the feel of him.
“Breathe,” Rip murmured, glancing back at her with a soft smile. “She’s just a kid, Beth. We’ve got this.”
Beth nodded, but it was all muscle memory. Her body was upright, alert. Her mind was miles away, spinning with every worst-case scenario she’d ever conjured. Sometimes she cursed the way her mind could control her, the way it manipulated her rational thoughts.
The driver’s side door opened and a woman in her forties stepped out, crisp slacks and a folder in her hand. She offered them both a polite smile as she circled the car to the backseat and a moment later, the door opened, and a tiny figure with long loose curls of blonde stepped out the car, gripping the door like it was holding her upright.
Riley.
She couldn’t have been taller than three feet, all skinny limbs and wary eyes. Her hair was pulled back in uneven braids, her backpack hanging off one shoulder, too big for her frame. She stared up at the ranch house, lips pressed in a tight line.
“Hi there,” Rip said gently, stepping forward with a slow, sure confidence Beth envied in that moment. “You must be Riley.”
Riley didn’t answer. She blinked up at him with wide eyes, unsure and silent.
Beth took a step forward beside Rip, her palms sweaty, her throat dry. “Hey, sweetie,” she tried, her voice softer than usual. “We’re really glad you’re here.”
Riley said nothing, but her hand tightened around the strap of her backpack.
The social worker smiled and gave a short nod. “Riley, this is Beth and Rip. You’ll be staying with them for a little while, okay?” She looked to the couple. “If it’s alright, I’m going to grab Bella.”
Rip blinked. “Sorry…who?”
The social worker paused, already halfway to the back of the car. “Bella,” she said, like it was obvious. “Riley’s little sister.”
Beth and Rip both looked at each other, the panic setting in like a slow flood.
Rip cleared his throat. “We were only fostering Riley. That’s what we agreed to. Just Riley.” He snapped, missing the way Riley flinched and backed up towards the car.
The social worker frowned, flipping through her folder with a slightly furrowed brow. “That’s not what the paperwork says. Both your signatures are on the approval form—for two minors. Bella was part of the package deal. They’ve never been separated.” She explained, reading the folder like it was the guide to life and would solve all world problems.
Beth’s heart stopped. “I—I didn’t…” she looked to Rip, voice trembling. “We didn’t know, Rip, we didn’t know.”
The social worker gave a polite but firm shrug. “The paperwork’s clear. Maybe the agency didn’t communicate properly, but the girls come together.”
And with that, she turned, opened the rear passenger side door, and emerged holding a small bundle of curls and sleepiness. Bella, barely eight months old, clung to the woman’s shoulder, her thumb in her mouth and one chubby hand tangled in the collar of her shirt.
Rip’s face paled.
Beth stopped breathing entirely.
“Here,” the social worker said, stepping forward and gently placing the baby into Rip’s arms.
Rip caught her like someone had just handed him a ticking time bomb. Bella blinked up at him, her eyes heavy with confusion, then whimpered softly and buried her face in his chest.
Beth stared—disassociating entirely. The porch felt too small, the air too thick. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
“I’ll grab their things,” the social worker added, already heading for the back of the car again. “If you want to take them inside, I’ll bring the rest in.”
Rip looked down at the baby in his arms, then at the older child still frozen by the car, and finally back at Beth—who was standing there like a ghost in her own body.
“Beth…” he said gently, voice low, steady. “Hey. Look at me.”
Beth didn’t respond.
“Sweetheart.” He tried again, his free hand brushing Beth’s cheek until her eyes met his and he leaned in to kiss her.
Rip nodded once, firm and calm. “We’re okay. You hear me? We’re okay. We can do this”
Beth blinked slowly, then looked at Riley—still silent, still staring. Then to Bella, now quiet against Rip’s chest, her small breaths rising and falling. Her heart squeezed painfully.
They were in it now. All in. And somehow, despite the panic clawing at her chest, Beth took a slow step forward and held out her hand to Riley.
“You wanna see your room?”
Riley hesitated for a moment, eyes scanning Beth from head to toe, debating her options, considering if she trusted these people… and then slipped her hand into Beth’s.
***
Beth’s hand was damp in Riley’s smaller one, but the little girl hadn’t let go, not once since they crossed the threshold. She walked silently beside Beth, her footsteps cautious on the hardwood floor, her eyes darting around like she was memorizing exits.
“This one’s yours,” Beth said softly, nudging open the guest room door she had spent all morning preparing. The sunlight poured in through the half-open blinds, stretching across the bed that now wore a soft, pink duvet cover with white bunnies. A matching pillow. A shelf of books Beth had picked herself from the local store, the spines bright and colorful.
Riley stood at the threshold, still clinging to Beth’s hand, silent.
Beth knelt, not releasing her grip. “I didn’t know what you liked… so I guessed. I can change anything you want, okay? Any color, any book, anything.”
Riley didn’t answer. Her fingers stayed locked around Beth’s.
Beth pointed to the shelf anyway. “There’s some about horses. I thought you might like those. I can read one later, if you want.”
Still nothing. Just wide, cautious eyes.
Beth’s throat tightened. She was suddenly aware of how big the house must feel. How many times this little girl had done this—walked into a stranger’s home, been told to feel safe, to get comfortable.
Beth’s heart ached in a way she didn’t expect.
“You wanna sit?” she asked, gesturing to the edge of the bed. She felt Riley’s fingers twitch against hers, but the girl didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Beth let out a soft breath, crouching down to Riley’s height again. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? Just… let’s be here.”
A long beat passed. Riley nodded, once, and that tiny gesture, that sliver of trust, made Beth’s eyes sting. She gave the girl’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna go downstairs for a bit, but I’m just right down there if you need me, alright?”
Riley hesitated. Her fingers tightened again. Then, slowly—reluctantly—she let go.
Beth stood, giving the room one last glance, and then gently pulled the door nearly closed, leaving it cracked just enough.
Downstairs, Rip was in the middle of directing the social worker with the few items that had come from the car. Bella was still in his arms, surprisingly quiet, one tiny fist tangled in the collar of his shirt.
“Where do you want her stuff?” the social worker asked, setting down a small duffel bag and a reusable grocery sack filled with formula, two packs of diapers, and a bottle or two.
Beth stopped short, her stomach flipping. “That’s it?”
The social worker nodded, straightening. “They didn’t come with much. We’ve added what we could from the office.”
Beth’s mind raced. They had no crib. No bottles sterilized. No wipes, no baby shampoo, no clothes that wouldn’t hang off Riley’s little frame. Her chest constricted.
“We don’t even have a crib,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Rip caught her eyes, brow furrowed with concern.
The social worker pulled out a clipboard and scribbled a note. “ I’ll be back in two weeks for the first check-in. If anything urgent comes up, call this number.” She handed Beth a card.
And just like that, the woman was already stepping back toward the door.
“That’s it?” Rip asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice as he shifted Bella in his arms.
She nodded, opening the door. “You’ve got this. I’ll see you soon.”
Beth stood frozen in the foyer, her arms limp at her sides.
Rip looked at her over the top of Bella’s soft curls. “Well… guess we’re officially outnumbered.”
Beth didn’t laugh. Couldn’t. Her mind spun again, caught in a storm of uncertainty and terror and something else—something terrifyingly close to love.
“C’mere,” Rip said gently, stepping over the bags and bridging the gap between them.
Beth looked at Bella, now dozing lightly in Rip’s arms. She reached out and smoothed a curl from the baby’s cheek. “We’re not ready,” she whispered.
Rip leaned in and kissed her forehead, his voice steady. “No one ever is, Beth. But we’ve been through hell and worse. We can do this.”
Beth didn’t answer, but this time, she didn’t pull away.
***
Carter stomped in from the barn, kicking his boots off by the door with a grunt. He was halfway to the kitchen when he paused, frowning at the scene unfolding in front of him.
Beth was perched at the edge of the dining table, one hip awkwardly balanced as she cradled a baby against her chest, her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear.
“No, Monica, I don’t know what kind of bottle she’s used to. She’s eight months. Just—just get a few types, I don’t care if it costs me more. And diapers, size… I don’t know, the ones for a baby that barely weighs anything. She’s tiny.”
Her voice was fast, sharp with nerves, though her touch on Bella was tender, her hand stroking the baby’s back as she nestled against Beth’s collarbone.
Carter’s frown deepened as he glanced past her to the couch, where Rip sat, shoulders stiff, Riley quietly curled up beside him with her knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes were glued to the TV, but she barely blinked, lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line.
“What’s going on?” Carter asked, his voice low but unmistakably unsettled. His eyes flicked between the baby in Beth’s arms and the silent girl on the couch. “I thought you were fostering one kid.”
Rip looked up sharply and gave him a pointed look—a warning.
“Lower your voice,” he said under his breath, standing and nodding toward the hallway. “C’mere.”
Carter hesitated, but followed him out of earshot. “You wanna explain this?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward the living room with all the attitude of a growing teenager.
Rip scratched the back of his neck, sighing. “Social worker pulled a fast one. Turns out Riley has a baby sister. Bella.”
“No one told you?”
“Nope. Showed up with her like it was part of the plan. Says we signed paperwork. Maybe we did. Either way, they’re both here now.”
Carter blinked. “And we’re just… rolling with it?”
Rip’s jaw ticked. “Beth’s already barely holding it together, alright? She’s panicking about every little thing—blankets, bottles, what books are on the damn shelf. I need you to be calm. Just for a bit. Be cool around the girls, be helpful if you can. Give Beth some space to breathe.”
Carter looked away, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he muttered.
Rip didn’t get angry—just fixed Carter with a tired look. “Neither did they.”
Carter exhaled heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Rip clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
But Carter didn’t go back to the living room. Instead, he turned and made his way to his room, closing the door a little louder than necessary behind him.
Rip watched the door for a second, rubbing the tension in his temples. Then he turned back toward the living room, where Beth was still murmuring instructions to Monica, and Riley hadn’t moved an inch.
He sat beside the little girl again, a bit closer this time, and glanced toward Beth. The baby had fallen asleep against her chest.
***
Beth gently eased herself down onto the couch beside Rip, Bella still asleep in her arms, her tiny hand curled in the fabric of Beth’s shirt. Riley didn’t even look up, but her eyes tracked Beth’s every move from behind her lashes.
“She’s out cold,” Beth murmured, brushing a strand of Bella’s hair off her damp forehead.
Rip nodded, watching them both for a second. “What we going to do about baby stuff, a crib?”
“Monica’s gonna bring everything over tomorrow with Kayce. Crib, baby gear, all of it.”
Rip gave a small grunt. “That’s good.”
“But tonight…” Beth looked down at Bella, worry creeping into her voice again. “She’s too little to sleep in a bed by herself. There’s nothing upstairs for her. We don’t even have a pack ’n play or a blanket that isn’t scratchy.”
Rip rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ll figure it out.”
Beth bit her lip, then looked over at Rip. “Maybe she just sleeps with us tonight.”
Rip arched a brow. “In our bed?”
Beth nodded. “Yeah. Just until we’ve got something set up. I’m not putting her down alone in that room.” She looked toward Riley not missing the way the girls fingers curled round her knees, her body twitching the slightest bit and Beth knew she was listening intently to their conversation.
Rip followed her gaze, his eyes softening. “Alright,” he said simply. “We’ll make room.”
Beth’s shoulders sagged a little in relief. “Thank you.”
Rip leaned over and kissed her temple. “You’re doing good, Beth.”
“I don’t feel like I am.”
“You don’t have to. Just keep showing up. That’s more than either of those girls ever had before today.”
***
The smell of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables filled the kitchen, warm and homey, but the tension around the table was thick enough to slice with Rip’s steak knife.
Rip set a plate down in front of Beth before lowering himself into the chair beside her, watching as she cradled Bella in one arm and gently fed her a bottle with the other. Her free hand absently rubbed soothing circles on the baby’s back, her attention focused completely on the tiny girl snuggled into her chest.
Across the table, Carter picked at his food in silence, his jaw tight, shoulders stiff with barely concealed frustration. Riley sat as still as a statue, a fork gripped tightly in her little hand as she slowly lifted small pieces of food to her mouth. She hadn’t spoken once since she arrived.
“So,” Rip started, trying for casual, “you finish stacking those fence rails out back today?”
Carter didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
Rip chewed slowly, glancing at Beth before trying again. “You remember to shut the barn”
Another shrug. “Think so.”
Beth shot Carter a warning look, her voice calm but firm. “Hey. Knock it off.”
Carter muttered under his breath and pushed his vegetables around his plate.
The quiet stretched out uncomfortably, broken only by the faint sucking sounds from Bella’s bottle and the soft clinks of silverware. Rip let the silence settle again, not wanting to push too hard.
Then suddenly, a soft, wet sob cut through the air.
All heads turned toward Riley, who was still in her chair, frozen, her wide eyes filled with panic as tears slipped down her cheeks. She wasn’t making a sound now, just trembling as she looked down at her lap.
Beth’s eyes widened and she immediately handed Bella to Rip, who clumsily caught her, surprised.
“Shh, hey,” Beth said gently, rising from her seat and circling the table to kneel beside Riley. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re not in trouble, alright? It’s just an accident.”
Riley’s lip trembled as she looked at Beth, ashamed and still silent.
“Oh baby,” Beth murmured, brushing the hair from Riley’s face. “I should’ve shown you where the bathroom was. That’s on me, not you. You were too scared to ask, weren’t you?”
Riley gave the faintest of nods, eyes downcast.
Beth stood slowly and reached for her hand. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
Riley hesitated, then slipped her small fingers into Beth’s without a word. Together, they walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Rip watched them go, Bella now fussing gently in his arms. He rocked her awkwardly and glanced toward Carter.
“She didn’t mean to,” Rip said softly.
Carter scowled, stabbing a piece of chicken. “Didn’t say she did.”
Rip didn’t reply. He just watched the stairs, waiting for Beth to come back down—because honestly, he had no idea what the hell to do with a baby in his arms and a moody teenager at his table.
***
Beth turned the faucet gently, testing the water with her fingers until it was warm but not too hot. Steam curled softly into the air as the tub began to fill, bubbles forming around the edges from the lavender soap she’d found under the sink. It wasn’t much, but it smelled like calm—and right now, that’s what Riley needed.
Riley stood quietly in the doorway, her clothes damp, her little face blotchy from crying. She hadn’t let go of Beth’s hand the entire walk upstairs.
Beth knelt in front of her, keeping her voice soft and even. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up, alright, sweetheart? Nothing to worry about. This is just a little bubble bath. You ever had one of those?”
Riley gave a tiny shake of her head, still not speaking, her other hand fisting nervously in the hem of her shirt.
Beth smiled gently. “Okay. Let’s get you out of these wet clothes first, then we’ll get you in.”
She worked slowly, carefully, peeling the damp fabric from Riley’s small frame. The girl didn’t flinch or fight, but Beth could feel the tension in her body—the way her shoulders curled in like she was trying to disappear. Once Riley was undressed, Beth helped her step into the tub, guiding her down with steady hands.
“There you go,” Beth murmured. “That feel okay?”
Riley nodded again, eyes darting around the room like she didn’t know where to settle them.
Beth sat on the edge of the tub, rolling her sleeves up as she reached for a washcloth and dipped it into the warm water. “You’re not in trouble, sweet girl. I should’ve shown you where the bathroom was when you got here. That’s on me.”
Riley’s lips pressed together, her eyes brimming again—but this time with something different. Shame, maybe. Uncertainty.
Beth dabbed the cloth gently over her arms, the bubbles clinging to Riley’s skin. “You don’t ever have to be scared to ask for something here, alright? If you need to go, if you’re hungry, if something hurts—anything. You just tell me or Rip.”
She hesitated, her throat tightening, then added softly, “This is your home too. You’re safe here.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, Riley looked up at Beth. Really looked. And it nearly knocked the breath out of her. There was so much in those eyes—fear, confusion, maybe even a flicker of hope—but what broke Beth’s heart was how used to silence the little girl seemed.
Beth pushed a few strands of hair off Riley’s damp forehead, her voice catching a little. “We’ll figure this out together, alright?”
Riley gave another small nod.
Beth smiled and reached for a towel. “Let’s get you into some warm clothes. Then maybe we’ll find a book to read before bed?”
Still no words, but this time, Riley reached up on her own and placed her hand in Beth’s.
And Beth held on like she’d never let go.
***
The guest room was dimly lit by the small lamp on the nightstand, casting a warm, gentle glow across the room. Beth had pulled back the covers of the bed, fluffing the pillow and smoothing the folded blanket at the foot, her hands lingering as though the fabric held the key to calming her nerves. She turned to find Riley standing just inside the doorway, clean and quiet, dressed in one of Beth’s old t-shirts that nearly swallowed her small frame. The soft cotton hung to her knees, and the sleeves slipped off one shoulder.
Beth offered a small smile. “It’s a little big, huh? We’ll get you some pajamas tomorrow.”
Riley didn’t answer, her eyes flicking toward the bed where a soft duvet lay waiting—pink with pale white bunnies hopping across it in little stitched patterns. Beth had stared at it in the store for way too long, wondering if it was too childish, too pink, too something. Now she was just hoping it made the girl feel safe.
Beth crouched down again, her voice soft. “I wasn’t sure what kind of animals you liked, but I saw the bunnies and thought… maybe.”
Riley’s fingers twisted the hem of the t-shirt, but she didn’t look away.
Beth gently pulled the blanket back and patted the mattress. “You wanna get in, sweetheart?”
After a long pause, Riley stepped forward and climbed into the bed, the bunny print shifting beneath her. Beth tugged the blanket up around her, careful and slow like she was wrapping something fragile. Riley didn’t let go of her hand until Beth had to pull it free to stand up.
“You want the lamp off, or should I leave it on for a while?” Beth asked gently.
Riley glanced at the lamp, then at Beth, and finally whispered, “On.”
It was the only word she’d said all day. Beth blinked hard, nodding. “Okay. On it stays.”
She lingered a moment longer, brushing her hand over the blanket. “I’ll be right downstairs, okay? If you need anything, just come get me. Or Rip.”
Riley nodded, almost imperceptibly.
Beth gave her a soft smile. “Sleep tight.”
She pulled the door mostly shut, leaving a crack for the light to spill through, and made her way downstairs.
***
Rip was still in the living room, sitting with Bella nestled against his chest. The baby was fast asleep, her breath warm and steady, one little hand curled around Rip’s thumb. He looked up when he saw Beth and tilted his head, a question in his eyes.
“She’s down,” Beth said quietly as she sank onto the couch beside him. “Left the light on. She… spoke. Just one word. But still.”
Rip’s eyes softened. “That’s a start.”
Beth leaned into him, her head dropping to his shoulder as her fingers found Bella’s little sock-covered foot. “She’s so quiet, Rip. I think she’s afraid to ask for anything.”
“Then we make sure she never has to be afraid again,” he said, voice low but certain.
Beth didn’t respond. She just sat there, pressed close to the two people who’d already changed her life in ways she hadn’t expected. And upstairs, a little girl was sleeping beneath bunny-patterned covers in one of Beth’s old shirts, in a house that, slowly, might just become home.
It hadn’t even been a full day but Beth already hoped the house would become home for the girls. Her worries were still ever present and they caused a pit of fear in her stomach that hadn’t shifted since Kayce first told them about the girls but something in the way Riley looked at Beth told her that this needed to become their home, to keep them safe.
As Beth closed her eyes against Rips shoulder, the soft hun of the tv in the background, Beth heard a creak from the stairs following by soft footsteps.
Beth lifted her head just as Riley appeared, her small frame silhouetted by the hallway light. She clutched a book to her chest, her hair tousled already eyes wide but hesitant.
“Sweetheart?” Beth sat up straighter. “You okay?”
Fear hit Beth like a brick not helped that Riley didn’t answer right away. She just stood there in her oversized t-shirt, blinking at both Beth and Rip.
Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “You said we could read a book… and we didn’t.”
Beth sighed softly, guilt blooming in her chest. It was later than she realised but she knew she had suggested a book, and she wasn’t going to start this relationship with broken promises. “Oh, darling…” She reached an arm out. “Come here.”
Riley crossed the room slowly, the book still clutched tightly in her arms. Beth shifted, making room on the couch but Riley climbed up into Beth’s lap without a word.
Rip glanced over, one hand still resting protectively on Bella, but he gave Riley a reassuring look before leaning back again.
Beth tucked a strand of Riley’s hair behind her ear and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s read it now, okay?”
Riley nodded, her small body finally starting to relax as she nestled into Beth’s chest.
Beth opened the book and began to read, her voice soft and low, steady like a lullaby. Riley’s breathing evened out as she listened, her fingers gently curling into Beth’s shirt. And for a little while, in the warm hush of the living room, everything felt still, and safe, and exactly as it should be.
***
Beth shifted carefully in the bed, fluffing the pillow behind her and adjusting the soft baby blanket draped over Bella’s small body. The little girl was nestled between them, her tiny fingers curled around the edge of Beth’s shirt, her head resting peacefully against Beth’s chest. Her breath came in gentle, shallow puffs, and she hadn’t stirred once since Rip laid her down.
Rip lay on his side, one arm tucked under his head, watching them in the dim light from the hallway. “She looks real peaceful,” he whispered.
Beth nodded slowly, her hand brushing over Bella’s back in slow, soothing strokes. “She doesn’t know yet… how much the world can hurt.” Her voice cracked at the edges, low and heavy with the weight of it all. “And thank God for that.”
Rip shifted closer, his hand finding Beth’s beneath the blanket, squeezing gently.
Beth let out a shaky breath. “I keep thinking about Riley… how scared she looked when she came out of that car. How she wouldn’t even let go of my hand when I showed her the room. She’s so little, Rip and already carrying so much.” Beth sighed thinking of the little girl now tucked up in bed down the hall.
Rip was quiet for a moment, watching the way Beth stared down at the sleeping infant between them like she was holding the entire world in her arms. “Some folks don’t deserve to be parents,” he said finally, voice low with restrained anger. “And somehow it’s always the kids that pay for it.”
Beth swallowed hard, her fingers never still on Bella’s back. “I don’t understand how anyone could hurt them. Not these girls. Not any kid.”
Rip leaned in and brushed a kiss to Beth’s forehead. “That’s why you’re gonna be so damn good at this,” he murmured. “You feel it all. You care too much. That’s what’s gonna make the difference.”
Beth didn’t answer right away. She just looked down at Bella, her heart breaking in slow, quiet pieces for a baby who’d never know her first parents, and for a little girl upstairs trying to relearn what it meant to feel safe.
“I’m scared, Rip,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Rip rested his forehead gently against hers, his hand still covering hers. “Me too. But we’ll figure it out. One day at a time.”
Beth nodded, finally letting her body relax into the mattress. Bella stirred softly between them, and both of them stilled instinctively, waiting for her to settle again. When she did, Beth let out a long, tired sigh.
“Just… promise me something,” she said.
“Anything.”
“If we screw this up… if we’re not enough—”
“We are,” Rip cut in firmly. “We will be.”
Beth closed her eyes, letting his words sink into the cracks. And for now, with Bella asleep between them and Riley just next door, they let the silence stretch.