Page 35 of Hello Trouble

I adjusted the reins to fall into step behind his horse while he studied the animals. Growing up, we all did our part on the ranch, so I knew what he was looking for. Either a runny nose, trouble breathing, an injury, or scours.

At the sight of the calf, he frowned and twisted in his saddle to look at me. “I’m gonna rope the calf. Can you watch the mama so she doesn’t maul me?”

“Trusting me an awful lot, considering I’m full of piss and vinegar,” I said lightly.

Dad gave me yet another exasperated look, then started unclipping his lasso from his saddle. I guided my horse up, pushing back the mama cow. “Back up, babe,” I said to her in a low, steady voice. As soon as she’d taken a few steps back, I heard the thwick of a rope, then the snap of it pulling tight. The beller of a calf.

The heifer snorted, trying to run toward the calf, but I cut her off, playing defense on horseback. My adrenaline was kicking up, and finally my mind felt clear, focused on something instead of stewing on an impossible problem.

Thank fuck.

Dad made quick work of medicating the calf, and when he was back on his horse, he called, “All good.”

I steered my horse, trotting away from the heifer. She was already running back to her calf, nosing over its body to check out the little guy.

“Everything okay?” I asked Dad.

“Had the scours and needed some electrolytes. I’ll check back in on him again this evening.”

I nodded, continuing to keep pace alongside him. He turned toward another draw, silent for a moment. But my luck didn’t last too long, because Dad said, “Don’t make me tie you up too.”

I chuckled softly, then gave in, because Dad wasn’t giving up. “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”

The old man held up his pinky. “Want to swear on it?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fucker.”

Dad chuckled. “It’s just you and me out here. What’s going on?”

I shook my head slowly, not even sure how to say it. “I’ve been thinking things lately...”

“That is new,” Dad teased. “I can see why you’d be concerned.”

“Dad!” I huffed out, holding back a laugh. “I’m being serious.”

“Go ahead.” He smiled over at me before looking ahead again. It was like he knew I needed space to talk because I was having trouble finding the right words to describe what was going on. “How did you know when it was time to settle down? Weren’t you wild back in the day?”

Dad smiled, making the lines around his eyes grow deeper, catching shadows. “You’re asking the wrong question.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I am?”

He nodded, rocking in tandem with the horse. “You should be asking ‘When did you stop fighting the fear of settling down?’”

“What do you mean?” I swore he talked in riddles sometimes.

He shifted the leather reins to his other hand and let out a breath. “When I met your mom, something in me knew she was the one. But there was another part of me that thought ‘You’re too young, it isn’t the time...’ all that bullshit. I was thinking of what I’d have to give up to be with her, not what I’d gain by having her in my life.”

My throat felt tight. Hearing him talk about Mom that way, when I hardly remembered her, was hard.

“Is there a woman?” he asked, straightforward.

“I don’t know. She’s always been around, but it’s like I’m having a harder and harder time remembering I should stay away. I’ve never felt like this about her before.”

“What changed?” Dad asked.

It was a fair question. And I had to sort it over in my mind to find the right words. We crested another draw, suddenly giving us a view of the horizon. We could see dozens of pairs from here, illuminated by the golden morning sunlight.

“It’s like coming over this hill,” I said. “The cattle were here the whole time, but I couldn’t see them until we got to the top.”

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