“Not into perfectly maintained fencing they don’t.”
“Our fencing isn’t perfectly maintained. Remember when Rita headbutted three posts loose last month?”
“That’s different.”
“How is that different?”
“Because Rita is an animal, not a conspiracy.”
I rub my temples, a headache circling, threatening to land. “Can we not do this before I’ve had caffeine? My thinking doesn’t function properly without it, and I have a feeling this conversation requires all my available brain cells.”
“We’re doing this now because Mrs. Delaney saw you on McCoy property two nights ago.”
My stomach drops, and I barely stifle anoh shit. “What?” I ask, my voice squeaking.
“She was driving home from her sister’s house and saw you sneaking around their ranch. With a goat.” He pulls out yet another piece of paper—a hand-drawn timeline with my activities marked in red.
Right. Rita’s great escape. Of course someone saw me. This is Cedar Ridge, where privacy goes to die and gossip spreads faster than wildfire.
“Rita got loose,” I say, which is technically true. “I had to go get her.”
“From their property?”
“That’s where she went. You know how she gets when she’s determined to go somewhere. What was I supposed to do? Give up and let her become one of them?” I chuckle at my humor attempt.
Dad does not.
“And you thought the best solution was to trespass instead of calling them to handle it?”
“It was late, Dad. I wasn’t going to wake up the McCoy family because my goat is naughty and has boundary issues.”
“So instead, you decided to have boundary issues yourself.”
“Dad, I don’t know what you expected me to do. I went and got Rita. They’d do the same if one of their animals wandered onto our property. It’s that simple.”
“Is it?” Dad leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “Because Mrs. Delaney said you were there for over an hour. She timed it, Callie. She sat in her car and timed it.”
Of course she did, the weirdo. Mrs. Delaney probably has a stopwatch app on her phone specifically for timing suspicious activities.
“Mrs. Delaney needs to mind her own business and get a damn life.”
“Mrs. Delaney is looking out for this family’s reputation.”
“Mrs. Delaney is a gossip with too much time on her hands and an unhealthy interest in other people’s lives. It’s sad when you think about it. I mean, what kind of strange person sits in her car to spy on other people? That’s messed up, Dad, and now she has you all worked up.”
“Don’t change the subject.” Dad waves the newspaper clipping again. “You were on McCoy land, late at night, for over an hour. What were you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t take an hour.”
“It does when you’re chasing a goat who thinks property lines are suggestions and fences are merely decorative.”
“Callie Marie Thompson, don’t lie.”
The use of my full name means Dad’s going hardcore. I take a deep breath and try to think of a way to explain this that won’t result in him having a stroke or blowing a gasket.
“Fine. Rita got loose and went to their ranch. When I went to get her, she was dirty from rolling in their water trough. So I hosed her off before bringing her home.”
