Page 9 of Lassoed Love

Despite the weight of the situation, I can’t help but notice Isla’s presence. I find myself staring at her, taking her in, observing her now, twelve years later. There is no ounce of that timid girl; she’s still shy, but not so sheltered, perhaps. She's wearing green scrubs, with a stethoscope around her neck. Her hair, still long, brown, and curly, has been half clipped up, a few tendrils framing her face. Her face, fuck. She’s still as beautiful as I’d remembered her.

She moves to listen to Duchess’s heartbeat, pressing her stethoscope just behind her elbow. In doing so, she inadvertently makes a sudden movement which causes Duchess to rear back, hitting the side of the trailer. She drops her stethoscope, and I move quickly, shuffling closer to her side, a look of concern adorning my face.

“Fuck. Woah, easy girl,” I attempt to soothe the horse, rubbing the top of her back. Isla just stands there, seemingly unharmed.

“You alright?” I ask, brows furrowed.

She nods. “Peachy,” she quips, shooting me a side-eyed glance.Smartass.

I successfully calm Duchess down while continuing to rub her neck. Isla relays her findings, explaining, “Her heartbeat is a little quick, and her pupils are dilated.

“Colic,” she says, her tone clinical despite the underlying tension. “It’s likely caused by a sudden increase in fresh spring grass in her diet, altering the pH in her hind-gut. She’ll need an injectable pain relief to prevent her stomach from rolling further.”

My jaw tightens. A look of recognition forms in my eyes as I absorb the information. I remember my father letting her out the other day; she probably ate too much of the long grass.

“So, what now, Doc?” I ask, my voice gruff.

She turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “Take her home, keep her comfortable, and make sure she stays away from the pasture for a few days to let the injection settle. If symptoms persist, you’ll need to bring her in for an emergency stomach tubing.”

Before I get a chance to respond, my phone rings from my back pocket. I glance at the screen, and it’s Harrison’s name flashing. I roll my eyes and silence the phone, choosing to ignore the call. After a few minutes, it vibrates again, persistent as ever. I let out a reluctant sigh, realising I can’t avoid the fucker. Apologising to Isla, I pick up the phone and answer it.

“Xav, mate, where the hell are you right now?” Harrison’s voice comes through, annoyed.

“Just dealing with something. What’s up?” I reply, trying to keep it brief.

“Bruh, I need your help at the garage. We’ve got a truck stuck, and we could use your muscle to get it out.”

I shoot a glance at Isla, whose attention is on the horse. “Can’t you ask Michael?” I ask.

“He’s here. The wanker is no help at all!” He groans. I can just make out Michael yell out,‘Fuck off cunt. I’m the one doing all the work here’,and I can’t help but smirk. These two knuckleheads are like chalk and cheese. They’re brothers, but they couldn’t be any more opposite. I catch Isla watching me then, an expression on her face I can’t quite make out as she looks me up and down. Is she checking me out? I meet her eyes and smirk, and she looks away quickly, returning her attention back to Duchess, who has seemed to calm down now.

“Look, I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Got something I need to handle first.”

Harrison grumbles a response, and I end the call, sliding the phone back into my pocket. Turning back to Isla, I maintain my smirk, wanting to stir the pot a little. “Get a good look?” I say with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, what?” Isla retorts, her frown evident, avoiding my question as she turns to pat Duchess again. She shifts gears with a feisty tone, attempting to change the subject. “I hope you’re more focused on your horse than trying to impress me with yourcharmingpersonality.”

Well, well, the feisty Isla is back. I can't help but feel a tug of amusement at her resilience. I decide to play along and rile her up abit more. Leaning casually against the trailer, I raise an eyebrow and add, “Do you gawk at all your clients that way?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly unamused by my teasing. “Gawk? Fuck off, I did no such thing. Now, if you’re done distracting me, I’d appreciate it.”

“Mhm, sure thing, Doc. Still the firecracker, I see.”

She rolls her eyes. “And you’re still the same pompous ass—anyway,” she changes the subject real quick, “So you know what you need to do?” she questions.

I cross my arms, my gruff demeanour returning. “Yep. I’ve got a sick horse and a list of instructions. Looks like I’ve got my hands full.” My gaze sweeps over Isla momentarily. “Anything else, Doc?”

Isla meets my gaze with a level stare, shifting on the spot uneasily.

“Isla is fine. Thanks,” she says, referring to the little nickname. I think I like it, enjoying the way it riles her up. “Just follow the instructions, Mitchell. Your horse will be fine as long as you do," she assures as she shuffles past Duchess and me in the trailer, gracefully walking down the ramp.

“Xavier is fine,” I quip, mimicking her previous retort, while ignoring her snarky response. Without looking up at her face, I just know she has that defiant look on that annoyingly beautiful face of hers. Damn it, Xavier, focus. I need to stop getting lost in her features and settle this horse business. Time to get this over with and get out of here.

“Right, well, I’ll need to explain costs, so would you—” she begins, but I cut her off with a dismissivetone.

“No need to explain anything. Whatever it costs, I don’t care. I’ll pay it,” I state, determined to settle the matter.

“Sure. Follow me, then.”

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