He nods. “The guards had no reason to question him. Jimmy hasn’t done anything to raise that type of suspicion. He’s usually in and outta here with a trailer to take horses or cattle to the auction barn. I didn’t think he’d ever stoop low enough to steal one of ours. It’s my fault for not flagging him.”
The somber note in his tone cuts me deep. “Give yourself a break, Dad. You’re dealing with enough as it is. Jimmy is his ownperson. Not to mention a grown-ass adult. He can take care of the mess he’s made.”
“But he still dragged us into it.”
I blow out a thick exhale, tempted to suggest we fire Colton. That’s not the support Dad needs right now. “What can we do?”
“Remind the folks who took Echo that we aren’t interested in cleaning up after Jimmy and his selfish decisions.” Dad’s shoulders hunch more than usual under the weight of these recent events.
“Do you know them?”
“Unfortunately.”
A wince pinches my features. “Are they dangerous?”
Dad takes entirely too long to think about it. “From my understanding, they prefer to stay under the radar. Their organization gets by on low-level deals. Mostly,” he tacks on absently.
Too many possibilities whip through my mind. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“No, Bee. Don’t you worry.” He gives me a grin that’s meant to be reassuring. “This is for me and your brother to handle. I’ll probably get your cousins involved too. But you stay out of it, okay?”
Easy for him to say. I bounce my knee as indecision plagues me. The jostling motion tweaks my hip and a cramp spreads from the joint. I hiss while rotating my leg, attempting to stretch away the burning pain.
A comforting palm lands on my arm. “You okay, kiddo?”
“Just the usual,” is my sputtered response.
Except this feels like a charley horse on steroids. Driving under duress put more strain on my muscles.Heat stings my eyes while I try to breathe through the debilitating spasm. There might be a knife stabbing into my thigh at this point.
After a solid minute of trying not to cry, the agony recedes into a dull throb. I massage the area to keep the relief coming. Dad is silent beside me, unsure what to do. The only option is to wait until it stops. It’s normally not this bad, but these random onsets are somewhat expected.
I’m out of alignment due to the severe curvature of my spine. There’s a lot going wrong back there. My skeletal structure as a whole is impacted—such as one shoulder is slightly higher than the other and the right side of my torso dips in while the left bumps out. Sometimes I worry about my ribcage collapsing, but that’s mostly a nightmare. I have muscular imbalances too. That doesn’t mean I’m restricted to certain activities. It’s just something I’ve dealt with since getting diagnosed with scoliosis in fourth grade.
“Should’ve kept that brace on,” Dad mutters.
“Mom wouldn’t hear it.”
Natural development and growth in my early teens took priority. Once my mom realized the pressure it put on my chest and lower stomach, I was freed from that torture device. That meant I leaned heavily on other treatment options. Yoga, physical therapy, and regular massages are vital. Can’t say I’m upset about the choice. I’d make the same one for my daughter.
The parent that doesn’t have to deal with menstrual cramps and boobs grunts his contention. “But now you’re more crooked than a dirt road through the woods.”
“Jeez, thanks a lot.” I roll my eyes. “It corrected my curve two whole degrees in the years I wore it. Not worth the hassle. Hasn’t gotten much worse as I’ve gotten older either.”
“Yeah, yeah. Your mother knew best.” He chuckles, which is a joy to hear. “There’s always surgery.”
Unease worms through me like a cold dose of reality. “That seems like a last resort. Not to mention it’s a very invasive procedure. The soreness and aches are manageable for now. If itgets to a point where I can’t move or function normally, I’ll look into other treatments.”
“Just worry about you.”
“Right back at ya, Pops.”
He scoffs. “I’m healthy as a horse. Straight as an arrow too. Not sure where you got that curvy nonsense from.”
“That’s one way of describing my scoliosis.” I shift my pelvis, rolling in small circles until my hip is quiet again. “See? Good to go.”
But Dad’s shrewd gaze doesn’t appear convinced. “Maybe you should call Dr. Powell for an emergency session.”
I wave off the suggestion of extra physical therapy. “A spin on Bandit will do the trick.”
