Page 34 of Lassoed Love

Confused, I press for more, “What do you mean, calling all the time? Who is it? Like telemarketing or randoms?”

“Randoms, I s’pose. Tryna stir shit,” he mutters, a hint of frustration in his voice. I pause in hammering a nail, trying to comprehend his words. “Stir shit?”

He shoots me a stern look, his eyes locking onto mine. “Ain’t nothin’ important comin’ from a damn phone. People talk, spread rumours. I ain’t got time for that nonsense.”

Recognition forms in my mind about what happened at the bar, the vile words those pieces of shit men had been talking. Fear and unhappiness wrack my body as I recall the demeaning comments that had cut through me like knives.

“Why do you let these people talk like that?” I ask, frustration bubbling within me.

“What’ya been hearing?” he asks, his voice deep, concern flickering in his gaze.

“Nothing, I’m just saying, from what you said…” I reply, my voice trailing off. I want to ask more, to understand why he would let such words slide, but he cuts me off with a stern look.

“Nevermind what I said,” he says, his tone final. The unspoken understanding lingers between us. I can’t help but wonder if heknows.Does he really know what those townies have been saying?

I think back to when I was a kid, hearing Mum and Dad discussing Nan and Pop’s battle with dementia. Nan got hit with it early on. I can still hear Mum's words echoing,“People in the early stages of dementia may understand their diagnosis and its implications. But everyone is different. Some don’t.”Nan, she always knew what was going on, but Pop, he might’ve been in denial. In the end, he was lost to the world, not really knowing what was happening. My heart breaks for my poor dad.What if he turns out the same?

I shake off these thoughts. A heavy silence now punctuated only by the sound of nails being driven into the fence. I need to find a way to bring it up without angering him. I know for a fact he’ll never just willingly go to the doctor for a visit. He’d always hated them.How the fuck am I going to do this?I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

“Dad,” I begin tentatively. “Do you, uh, still keep in contact with Mr. Mitchell?” I ask casually, my curiosity piqued.

It’s a question that’s been lingering in the back of my mind lately, ever since seeing Xavier. I vaguely remember Dad working with Mr. Mitchell when I was younger, but my memories from that time are fuzzy at best.

At the mention of his name, Dad looks up abruptly, his weathered face scrunching up in disgust. “Why are you asking about him?” he demands, his tone sharp and clipped.

I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. “Oh, well, I just happened torun into Xavier in town, and it got me thinking,” I reply cautiously. The truth is, there’s more to it than that, but I’m not about to dive into the deets with my father.

Dad’s expression darkens. “Stay away from ‘em Mitchell boys, Isla,” he warns sternly. “If they’re anythin’ like their father, I suggest you stay away. They’re nothing but trouble.”Trouble?His words catch me off guard, and I can’t help but feel a knot of unease forming in my stomach.What does he mean?I need to know more.

“But, why? Did something happen?” I press, hoping for a clearer answer. He brushes me off, his expression growing more stern, and I know it’s best not to push him further. As he turns away to tend to his work, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this story.

Clearing my throat, I watch as he resumes working on the fence. My phone then buzzes, distracting me from my thoughts, and I fish it out of the front pocket of my denim shorts. A text message from an unknown number lights up the screen.

“Hey, Isla. It’s David, you know, from high school and from the other night at the Loose Lasso? Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight?

There’s a rodeo show happening out in Hilltop Creek next weekend, at the showgrounds. I could pick you up on Sat at, say, 6:30?”

As I glance at David’s unexpected message, a small wave of anxiety kicks in. I take a few deep breaths.

Totally didn’t see this coming. I hadn’t expected him to message me so soon, secretly hoping that Claire’s attempt at setting us up had flown off the radar.Apparently not.

I mull over my response. Despite the absence of any immediate sparks, there’s a lingering curiosity and a touch of intrigue. Plus, I’ve never been to a rodeo before, so that adds an interesting twist.

Sure. Sounds good.

I shoot back, keeping it cool and casual.

15

Save A Horse - Big & Rich

“Oi,fucker, it’s official. We’re in line for the comp. Fuck yeah!” Harrison whoops, Michael joining in. I shoot them an unimpressed look. “What did you two idiots enrol me for?”

Harrison grins, waving a form in my face. “Bronc Riding. You’ll kill it, Xav!”

“Of course,” I mutter under my breath, shaking my head.

Dragged into this damn rodeo competition by my own will has me in just the most chipper mood. I roll my eyes inwardly. These two nutcases had been on my case for months about signing up. Annoying as it was, their relentless nagging finally broke me, and I caved just to shut them up.

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