Page 12 of Something Tangled Something True (Rosa Ranch #1)
SAT ON A FROG
Ever since we arrived, I haven’t had a single second alone with Lola.
She’s been pushed and pulled in every direction by the well-meaning people of this town, but I can see how much it breaks her spirit every time she explains she doesn’t have a job yet and she isn’t sure how long she’ll be in town.
It’s in the small cracks of her smile, the way her shoulders tighten.
It’s clear this isn’t easy for her, no matter how hard she tries to brush it off.
I press my hand to the small of her back, excusing us from Cindy and Sheryl, two of Lola’s past teachers. “Sorry, ladies. If you’ll excuse us, I believe I have a chili contest to judge.”
Sheryl swats at an invisible gnat in front of her face, scrunching her nose as she says, “Phewie! I’m glad my husband won’t be judgin’ this year. The day after, he always sounds like he sat on a frog!”
Laughter rips through my chest as I shake my head, steering us toward the white-topped tents a few yards away. “What a lovely picture she’s painted,” Lola teases.
“I’m glad you live alone, Ry. Hopefully, for your own sake, you took some prebiotics or something,” Mayte adds, not helping my case. I’m sure this conversation will really have me winning Lola’s heart. Not.
“Okay, you two. Quit pickin’ on me,” I say, quickly changing the subject. “Let me take Isabela. She can hang out with me so the both of you can go on a few rides and enjoy some free childcare.”
Mayte’s face lights up, hitting me with a megawatt smile as she reaches out to pinch my cheek. “ This is why you’ve always been my favorite Lockhart brother,” she says, dropping her hand to drag Lola off toward the Teacups and the Swing Ride, the only two Mayte has ever ridden.
The chili contest wraps up smoothly, with Andres Baker claiming victory for the sixth year in a row. I don’t even need to try his chili to know it’s incredible. The man’s got the touch, no question.
I weave through the crowd, Isabela strapped into her stroller, her little head slumped back, mouth slightly open.
Drool drips down the side of her cheek, but she’s out cold, lost in the quiet of a nap.
The noise and bustle of the festival fade into the background, and for a moment, I feel like I’m in a different world, tucked away from all the chaos.
Mayte spots me from ahead, her frantic waving cutting through the crowd like a flare.
“Ry!” she yells, her voice sharp and familiar. I make my way over, maneuvering the stroller carefully, just enough to avoid waking Isabela. She stays asleep, oblivious to the world.
“Hey, y’all have fun?” I ask, trying to keep things light.
“As usual.” Mayte grins, though there’s a bit of exasperation in her voice. “The problem child here has consumed half her weight in cotton candy and funnel cake, so I think it’s time you take over. You can handle her while I get back to my actual child.”
She crouches down to check on her daughter, wiping her mouth with the edge of a blanket, her expression softening in a way that makes me realize just how much she’s been juggling .
“You sure you’re okay on your own?” Lola asks her, concern pulling at the edges of her voice, her brow furrowing like she’s been carrying a weight of her own.
“Yep,” Mayte says, a hint of humor in her voice as she steers the stroller, taking control of the situation without giving anyone a chance to argue. “You two go ride that deathtrap of a Ferris wheel.”
“Well, guess I’ll have to get you another cotton candy if we’re gonna brave that thing,” I say, glancing at Lola with a teasing grin.
Her cheeks turn pink, her eyes shifting, not quite meeting mine. The uncertainty is there, faint but lingering, like we’ve been away from each other long enough that it’s hard to remember what this is or what it could be.
Lola waits in line while I grab the cotton candy.
I return with two massive blue cones and hand one to her, and she immediately tears off a chunk, shoving it into her mouth.
A piece sticks to the tip of her nose, and, without thinking, I reach out, swiping it off with the edge of my thumb.
Her eyes flick up to mine, a quick, sharp breath catching in her throat, the air between us suddenly feeling charged.
For a moment, everything else fades, and all I can focus on is the air between us.
But the attendant’s voice, sharp and insistent, breaks the spell. “Next in line!”
I step closer, pressing my hand to the small of her back, guiding her forward. “Come on, Lols. Don’t wanna miss our turn,” I tease, my voice light, a little breathless from the sudden tension.
She nods, settling into the seat, her movements quick but purposeful as she clips herself in.
The cotton candy cone is wedged between her knees, untouched for the moment.
It’s clear she’s not looking for me to buckle her in this time, not like I’ve done every other time before.
There’s a shift in her, something subtle, but it’s enough to make me hesitate for a beat.
I do my best to settle in, an electric charge pulsing between us as the bucket seats jostle us, beginning their slow ascent to the top.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask, desperate to break the tense silence.
She glances up, holding me in her searching gaze. “Yeah, Ry. I’m having fun. It’s just been a lot. I thought I’d have more time to figure things out before reuniting with the whole town.”
My brows pinch, frustration with myself settling in. How could I have been so thoughtless? “I’m sorry, Lols. I hadn’t considered you might want some more time to settle in before a big event like this.” I reach out, taking her hand and giving it a tight squeeze.
She leans into the embrace, almost melting into the small point of contact. “It’s not your fault at all. I’d have been disappointed if I missed the fair, and I’m glad I came. I’m a little overwhelmed with all the attention and questions is all.”
“They’re all well-meaning, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating, does it?
” I ask, recalling all the times I’d been asked after graduating college if there was any chance I’d still try to go pro with football or take over the ranch.
After what happened with Logan, I had even less interest in going pro than I had prior, but that was too painful to admit.
“No, it doesn’t,” she says softly, shaking her head, her voice carrying a weight of something I can’t quite place. She leans into me, her cheek resting on my shoulder as we reach the peak of the ride. Below us, the town sprawls out, small and distant.
It kills me not to pull her closer, to press a kiss to the top of her head, to wrap my arms around her and just hold her. But I don’t. I resist. The tension between us is too fragile, and I know better than to push.
“Remember the time you snuck us out to the fair when Zeke and I were grounded?” I ask, the question slipping out as we begin our descent .
Lola’s laughter comes light and genuine, and it wraps around me, filling the empty spaces I didn’t realize were there.
She leans further into me, her body warm and comforting against mine.
"God, yes. I was just thinking about that earlier today. We thought we were so slick, didn’t we?
When we got home, we thought we’d pulled it off. ”
I smile at the memory. "Your mom scared the piss out of me that night. When I tiptoed through the house and found her lying in my bed, wrapped in my comforter, acting like she’d just risen from the dead, I ran straight into Zeke in the hall, screaming.”
She laughs again, a sound that settles deep in my chest, like I’m hearing it for the first time. “Oh my god, yes! I still don’t know how they came up with that plan, each of them hiding in our beds to scare us. And here we thought we were so clever.”
"I think about that day every year," I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
"Mayte was so sure we'd get caught, that our social lives would be ruined.
And, of course, she was right. After that, none of us could leave the house for anything except school, sports, and whatever random crafting club Mayte was in at the time.
" I shake my head at the memory, that familiar warmth of nostalgia creeping in.
Lola shifts, her hand brushing mine, her fingers lingering just long enough to remind me we’re still here, together.
The breeze cools the air around us, and I realize, as the world below keeps spinning, this simple, easy moment with her is everything.