Page 13 of Roping My Rival

“You haven’t come downstairs all afternoon.” Dad lifts Hops onto his lap. “Want to talk about it?”

Nibbles notices my dad and jumps from my lap to see him. I draw my knees up as I watch my rabbits love on my dad. For a stern father figure, he sure has a soft spot for all the cute animals.

“Remember that night at 4H when you brought me home the first time after I had a meltdown?”

“I’ll never forget it,” Dad says softly as he scratches Nibble’s ears. He has that same look on his face now as he did then. Confident that he can fix the issue even if it scares the crap out of him.

“Jesse went ahead with the auction.”

Dad nods because he knows this already. “It’s business, son. Jesse wants to help the cattle farmers in the area. He didn’t do this to hurt you.”

Logically, I know that. Jesse would never purposely hurt me. He’s not like that. But he also knows how much livestock auctions can upset me. I didn’t want to be a part of it.

“We’re supposed to work together, Dad. You said the three of us need to work together. Clarence can’t be bothered most of the time, and he didn’t want to be the deciding vote!” My voice rises and Hops tears across the room. Dammit. “Jesse shouldn’t have done it if we didn’t have a vote,” I say, softer this time, and tap for Hops to come back.

“Jesse is thinking without emotion, Warren. You need to do that as well. I know it upsets you, but you could’ve just told him to do it and not expect you to help. He wouldn’t have been scrambling at the last minute if you were just honest. You can’t always take things to heart.” Dad clears his throat. “It’s okay to still be sensitive about it, but we’re close to it, you know? With 4H and the rodeo…auctions aren’t going away.”

He’s speaking reasonably and trying to understand. I know this. It’s how he always is, and he’s the best. But right now, I’m angry and very unreasonable.

“Is that how you do it, then? We’re all in a box of some kind? Warren is too soft, so he needs special treatment. Jesse can give me grandkids so he can do what he wants, and Clarence is so smart he can have whatever he wants, too. I’m the only one in this family who seems to have issues.”

Dad sucks in a sharp breath.

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s fucking true, Dad. Don’t deny it. I’m a lot of work, and now my brother doesn’t even want to deal with me.” Standing, I scoop Hops up and put her in the bunny pen before returning to snatch Nibbles from my dad’s lap. “I’m going out.”

“Warren—”

“I know you love me. I know, okay? Just…” I let it trail off because what else can I say that he doesn’t already know?

“I love you.”

My lips twitch into a smile. He literally can’t help himself saying those words.

“I love you too, Dad. I’ll be home later.”

After dropping Nibbles in the bunny pen, I make sure I have my wallet, phone, and keys before bolting down the stairs. Pops looks up from the couch where he works on a crossword, but remains quiet. He always knows when to talk, and now isn’t the time. He pats the area over his heart and I return the gesture.

Once I’m in my truck, I drive the back roads into town. The longer route gives me time to get my spiralling thoughts under control. So many have reared up these past weeks.

I’m a failure.

That’s the predominant theme. Kind of hard to ignore it. I’m thirty years old and still live with my parents. Not because I can’t afford it. That’s actually the only thing going for me. I have a decent income from the rodeo school and my rodeo winnings. Yes, we’re a wealthy family, but I can get by without that.

That’s where the list of positives ends, unless you count my two awesome pet rabbits. Which I do.

A thirty-year-old man who lives with his parents, owns rabbits, and still can’t win a rodeo championship even when his biggest rival disappears. I bark a dry laugh into the truck cab. Yeah, the lineup doesn’t stretch around the block for a piece of me, that’s for sure.

The farms roll past me in the darkness, but I know every twist and hill in the road. The Simmonds dairy farm. The Angus breeder and the bizarre dude who dresses his chickens up on holidays to drive around town with. If you’ve never seen a chicken dressed as a leprechaun, you’re missing out.

When my truck stops in the parking lot of The Trough, the best bar in the area, with the chance of finding someone to take home, I shake my head. I won’t be going home with anyone, but I’ll go through the motions. Just like I always do because I’m hung up on the one man I shouldn’t want.

After sliding onto a barstool, I motion to the bartender.

“What can I get ya?”

“Rye and ginger, please.”