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Tulsi smiled as she rested her cheek on the overstuffed couch cushion. “At least she didn’t say anything worse than jerk face.”
“Yeah, that would have been bad.” A guilty expression flickered across Mia’s features. “I guess some people should start watching their mouths in front of Clem a little more than they do right now.”
Tulsi chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I slip up sometimes, too.”
Mia lifted a wry brow. “I don’t think ‘flipping’ counts as a swear word.”
“It does too. And sometimes I say ‘damn it’ under my breath when I’m driving.”
“Rebel.” Mia poked her playfully in the leg. “All right Miss Potty Mouth, are you ready for pie now?”
“I am so ready for pie,” Tulsi said, sliding her legs out from under her. “Let me go grab plates.”
Mia waved her back onto the couch as she hopped to her feet. “Don’t worry about it. I know where everything is. You just relax. You’ve had a rough day. Let me wait on you.”
“You don’t have to,” Tulsi said as her cell began to buzz behind her on the couch, where she’d hurled it after her lecture from Mrs. Beatrix.
“I want to.” Mia pointed to the phone as she headed toward the kitchen. “If that’s the camp, don’t answer.”
“I have to. Clem might have changed her mind about coming home.” Tulsi snatched the phone from the cushion and glanced at the screen to see an out of state number. For a second, she considered letting the call go to voicemail, but on the off chance that it was one of her clients calling from out of town, she tapped the green button. “Hello.”
“Hey, T.T., what’s up? I got your message a few minutes ago. My cell died so I’m calling from a friend’s phone.” Reece’s usually soft, husky voice was raised to a shout and there was a ton of background noise—the rumble of a large crowd and the blare of buzzers—but no one called Tulsi T.T. except her sister.
“Hey you!” Tulsi smiled, amazed that Reece had called her back so quickly. Usually, it took at least three days for her sister to get around to returning a call. “Oh, nothing much. I was just feeling down about Daddy and some other stuff and wanted to hear your voice.”
“You needed someone to tell you that he’s an asshole, and you shouldn’t listen to a word he says?”
Tulsi’s smile widened. “Something like that.”
“He’s an asshole,” Reece said, shouting to be heard over a sudden roar of approval from the crowd at whatever stadium she was in tonight. “It doesn’t matter that he’s great with Clementine and has mellowed out since we were kids. He’s still an asshole, his thinking is back asswards, and he doesn’t have anyone’s best interests at heart except his own.”
“He’s still charging me rent to use the barn,” Tulsi said, ignoring the voice in her head that said it was disloyal to gossip about Dad when he’d done so much for her and Clem. “And he said he’s kicking all the therapy horses out if I miss even one month because of the funding cuts.”
Reece swore colorfully, calling Daddy a few curse words Tulsi had never even heard before, proving she wasn’t the Hearst sister with the potty mouth. “He’s leaving the ranch to you when he dies, anyway. And you’ve worked your ass off breaking horses for him for free and hiring staff to keep the rest of the ranch running. What the hell is wrong with him?”
Tulsi shrugged, smiling as Mia returned with two generous slices of apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream. “I don’t know. He says he’s trying to teach me responsibility.”
“You’re plenty responsible. It’s not your fault your funding was cut all of a sudden. Do you want me to call him for you? Tell him he’s being a dick?”
Tulsi sputtered at the thought. Reece and her father hadn’t seen each other in person for nearly twelve years and only talked on the phone for a few minutes at Christmas and on Father’s Day. They preferred to communicate with passive aggressive gifts and the occasional smart-ass greeting card. “Oh my God, no. That would only make it worse. He’d know I’ve been talking about him behind his back.”
“So what? I think it’s high—” Reece broke off, her voice dropping as she spoke to someone in the background. “Listen, I’m about to ride in a few minutes. Want me to call you back later?”
“No, no, that’s okay,” Tulsi said, pulse leaping the way it always did when she thought about her big sister’s career. Bull riding was a terrifying sport, and being the only female rider in the pro circuit ensured Reece attracted more than her fair share of attention. The combination of danger and scrutiny her sister endured on a weekly basis made Tulsi positively ill with nerves, but Reece loved her job and swore she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. “You go get ready. And please be careful.”
Reece laughed. “I don’t do careful. I don’t do good girl, either, so let me know if you change your mind and want me to rip Daddy a new asshole for you.”
Tulsi’s stomach roiled. “You say that stuff just to freak me out, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” Reece confessed. “I’m sending Dad a new horse on Friday, by the way. This one is a real pisser. No way you’re breaking him in a month.”
“Are you trying to get me killed?” Tulsi asked, rolling her eyes as she took the plate Mia offered. “I got thrown twice by the lastpresentyou sent.”
Reece was quiet for a moment, making Tulsi worry she’d made her sister—who could be as volatile as their father at times—angry. “No, T.T.…I guess I just keep thinking that if you stand up to enough horses, you’ll work up the guts to stand up to Dad. No one can give you permission to stop giving a shit about his bullshit except you, you know?”
Tulsi swallowed, but before she could think of what to say, she heard Reece’s name called on the loudspeaker on the other end of the line.
“I’ve gotta go, talk soon,” her sister said. A second later, the line went dead.
