“I’m sorry,” Lettie offered. I was glad she hadn’t taken the route of telling me I should’ve done something different. Tex was my heart horse, misunderstood and unwanted before I got him. It often hit me that I felt like I failed him after I sold him because he never gave up on me. But I was so lost when I took that test. So clueless on what to do next.
I should’ve known not to make an impulsive decision when my mind was reeling. But what’s done was done. I forced myself not to dwell.
“Speaking of Beckham,” I started, giving a much-needed change to the subject, “he’s okay to be here, right? With all the alcohol?”
Lettie glanced over her shoulder at the men, a pensive look crossing over her. “Yeah. He’s good. It wasn’t, like, a long-term thing, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I shook my head. “He’s reassured me that he’s fine, but…”
“You care about him. It’s okay to be concerned,” Oakley said.
“He came home out of the blue, said he didn’t want to do rodeo anymore,” Lettie explained. “He was…depressed, I guess you could call it. He wouldn’t talk to any of us, so Reed would go over to his place every now and then. It wasn’t until Beckham socked Reed in the face that he came to his senses.”
I sucked on my bottom lip. “He did that because of me.”
Oakley held back a smile. “He must love you if he’s punching his brother over you.”
I choked, eyes watering as I sputtered out a cough.
“Oakley!” Lettie chastised, though she was trying to hold back her laugh.
I didn’t have the mental capacity to get into that right now, so instead—after clearing my throat three times—I said, “I was asking because there have been some…things happening on my Instagram that I wanted to tell him about, but the last thing I want to do is make him worry and spiral. We all know how overprotective he is.”
Lettie let out an agreeing hum around the straw of her pink drink. “All my brothers are, and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell themI’vehad weird things happening on my profile, too.”
My brows nearly became part of my hairline. “You’re getting creepy comments too?”
She nodded, dramatically accentuating the movement.
Oakley leaned in further. “Well, now I’m intrigued.” She cocked her head to the side. “And creeped out. What comments?”
“I wanted to talk to you about them tonight, actually,” Lettie said, gesturing to me. “Some random accounts have been asking where my favorite hangout spot is or the best places to eat, like they’re coming to visit Bell Buckle or something.”
That had my hair standing on end. “They said they’re visiting?”
Oakley’s sharp intake of air had every nerve in my body lifting its head.
Lettie quickly shook her head. “No, no. They never said that. But theyactlike they are. Which is weird, because I don’t put my location on my posts. I put my profile on private after the third comment. One came in on the first day, two on the second, and by that night, I was creeped out enough to shut it all down. Blocked the weirdo, too, just to be safe.”
I yanked my phone out of my purse so fast, an old receipt toppled to the floor. Worst-case scenarios flew through my head at a pace too chaotic to worry about the paper as I tapped Instagram and scrolled back on my profile. It took at least ten minutes, but I finally made it back to when I was a teenager, still living in Bell Buckle.
Old photos of food, horses, scenery—everything a teenager would deem worthy of posting—rolled by until I found one of me and Lettie smiling at the camera. It was a selfie, and we were standing in front of Tumbleweed Feed, the only feed store in Bell Buckle. If the sign hadn’t given away the town, my tagged location of Bell Buckle, Idaho, sure as hell would have.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Lettie grabbed my phone as Oakley squished into her side to get a look. I ran my hands over my face, groaning.
“All the way back to 2014?” Oakley chirped.
I tore my hands through my hair, the heat of the bar making its way down to the marrow of my bones. Yet still chills covered every inch of my skin.
This was bigger than I’d thought.
“It’s not a coincidence then,” Lettie surmised quietly.
I shook my head. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Yeah, but who would be stalking you?” Oakley asked, alarm clear in her voice. Almost like she had a past in that territory.
