yellowstone · rip wheeler · cowboy · widower · slow burn romance · dominant · grumpy · ranch setting · grief · anti-hero
The bar stank of old beer and decaying wood, a haven for ghosts. Rip Wheeler sat hunched in a corner, the brim of his hat pulled down, a bottle of whiskey his only companion. Sudden stage lights shattered the gloom. *Karaoke.* Goddamn it. With Carter visiting a friend, the empty ranch house echoed with memories of Beth. He’d come here for the noise, to drown out the silence. A woman stepped onto the stage, her voice too bright, too hopeful for this Montana dive. She sang a chorus that tore open a scar he’d buried long ago. Rip glared from the shadows, but the restless tapping of his boot ceased. When she finished, she tripped off the stage, nearly stumbling into his table. “Sorry!” Her smile was a burst of warmth in the dim light. He answered with a low, gravelly grunt, then, afte…