“The lawyer said she isn’t gonna charge you until after the final hearing, post-rodeo, too, by the way,” he adds, smackingdown a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, those exact words scribbled across it. “I was on phone duty while you slept.”
“Jesus, I only slept in a few hours but it feels weird.”
Tate adjusts the hat on his head and moves toward the back door, pausing before he leaves. “Wouldn’t it be wild if I was all, ‘you were asleep for ten years’?” he says, wiggling his fingers, adding a ghostly, “Wooooo.”
I roll my eyes. “Send Sadie in for Bertha’s meds.”
Tate smirks. “Already gave ’em to her. You slept through that, too.”
I hadn’t intended on training today, and with Quinn working and Sadie next door, I decide to take Daisy out for a long ride. It’s been ages since I’ve taken a ride for leisure, just me and the Vaughn land. The sun is extra unforgiving today, but it’s beautiful out here, with the grass shining and the birds singing.
Yesterday, the motion was in my favor, because Sadie being with me is what’s best for Sadie. In a few more days, I’ll know my fate. Either keeping my girl and my ranch, or losing them. And it’s all up to me.
It’s all on my shoulders.
When the sun drops in the sky, and the vibrant yellow starts to turn into cool orange, I ride back and treat Daisy to some hay and a quick brush-down. Making my way back toward the house, I notice the glow from the porch. Quinn must still be editing.
I hang my hat outside and step into the old porch, carefully closing the screen door behind me. She twists beneath her blanket, blinking at me with tired eyes, laptop screenglowing brightly from her legs. “Oh, hi.” She looks at her computer quickly then me again. “I didn’t know it was so late. I didn’t fix anything for dinner.”
I wave her off and sink onto the couch next to her. “I wouldn’t want you to quit working. I’ll fix us something to eat.” I glance over her shoulder to her computer screen, an image of me and Sadie frozen there. I know this documentary is about me, which still feels strange, but I’ll never get used to seeing my girl on the screen.
“What’s, uh, what’s that?” I ask, trying to make out the surroundings, but the frame is kind of blurry, stopped at a moment of action, I’m sure.
She nods. “Oh, here,” she says, sliding her fingers over the mouse pad. “Let me show you.” She resumes playing the clip, and it takes me a moment to register what I’m looking at, mostly because I had no idea she had her camera yesterday.
“Is that from yesterday?” I ask, but I know the answer. Because I see the courthouse steps in the background, and I spot Love’s boots, too.
Quinn nods, beaming at the screen proudly as the clip of me falling to a crouch and gathering Sadie against my chest plays. “Yeah. Isn’t it so sweet?”
The back of my neck suddenly feels itchy, so overrun with discomfort that I find myself getting to my feet. Quinn peers up at me, eyes wide. “Why’d you get up?”
I shake my head, and motion toward the computer. “I didn’t know you filmed yesterday.”
She shrugs. “I gave my camera to Mabel and told her to capture any moments she could. This is the only one she got, but my god, Landry, it’s beautiful. You’re?—”
I really don’t give a good goddamn what compliment is about to come out of her mouth. I interrupt, surprised by the volume of my voice. “I don’t want that in there, Quinn.”
She looks between me and the screen, almost like she doesn’t understand what I’m referring to, and the tiny little stall only furthers the rage surging through my veins. “No,” I say again, “I don’t give you permission to put that in there.”
“Mabel didn’t mean any harm by it, Landry. I told her to. Don’t get angry at Mabel,” she says, tossing the blanket off her legs. I feel my heartbeat in my temples.
“It’s not Mabel that I’m angry at.”
She looks slapped when I say those words. She brings her hand to her chest, surprise ringing in her every movement. “You’re angry with me?”
“What happened yesterday was humiliating, and it had nothing to do with the film you’re making,” I tell her, trying as hard as I can to keep my voice steady.
But she argues, shaking her head, hands balling into fists at her sides. “The entire reason you’re making a comeback is for the money! And the money is all to keep Vaughn Ranch, to keep Sadie! It’s all one story, Landry, and I’m just?—”
I slice my hand through the air. “Stop! This is my life! And I don’t want all the worst parts of it sensationalized by a documentary that’s going to haunt me forever!"
Quinn blinks at me, her eyes growing glassy, chest heaving, my own heart racing. “You told me to make the best film that I possibly could. And I know it’s uncomfortable seeing these hard moments but?—”
“Do you? Do you know? Because from where I’m standing, I’m the one having all my sore and sour shit torn open and spread out for the world to see. I’m the one who is trying to save my family’s ranch, keep my daughter in the house she’s meant to grow up in, keep my animals, help you make a good film, and be a rodeo star to boot!” I shout, so frustrated it feels like my body is on fire.
A tear breaks past her lashes and slips down her cheek,and it almost breaks me, but I’m so tired, and I’m so angry. “I don’t want that clip in there, Quinn.”
She swipes beneath her eye with her sleeve pulled over her hand, the tip of her nose pink. “People need to see the stakes of your comeback,” she says quietly, still fighting. But if I can get back on the proverbial horse at my age, I still have fight in me, too.
