Landmine - Post Malone

9

She must have fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion because she has now woken up in bed. Austin must have carried her to the truck, brought her to the trailer and then placed her carefully on the bed. She can also see it's now dark outside, but she is alone in the bed. Her head is clouded with questions and still hazy with the knowledge of who Luke is. She can't say for sure if Isla ever encountered Luke, but she has this feeling of dread sitting in the pit of her stomach that she just can't shake. If Isla did cross paths with Luke it would be a very bad thing. Trying to push down those dark thoughts she gets out of bed and peeps into the kitchen area. It's empty, so she looks out a window and sees Austin sitting on the grass in front of a large fire, all alone. It's just him on his own and it looks like he has a million thoughts running through his head. The sound of her opening the front door makes his head snap to her then he stands as she steps out.

"I'm..." she starts but her words trail off. She is not sure what she wants to say. Austin doesn't say anything as he watches her carefully, he is always analyzing. If they are going to speak, she knows she will have to be the one to get the ball rolling; the man tussles with words just as much as she tussles with dark thoughts around Isla. "Why didn't you tell me Luke was the sheriff?" she asks. "I didn't want to scare you more than you already were," he answers. She gets that. Luke punched the shit out of her, and if she knew he was supposed to be a cop and one of the good guys, it would have freaked her out more. "Did...did Luke set the fire?" she whispers. Austin bites his lip but does not give any indication of answering her. Getting information out of Austin is like getting blood from a stone. She believes Luke set the fire. But, why? She presumes that Luke perhaps just wants to run the new rancher out of his town. Small towns don't take kindly to outsiders especially ones that look like Austin. She suspects Austin would be considered a problem - she has watched enough small-town westerns to know how it goes.

"You said you knew the rancher here before you, yes?" she asks. He swallows thickly, but again says and does nothing but look at her. She wants to scream in frustration. Why is he making this so hard? Why won't he tell her anything? Her mind still racing she turns and heads back into the trailer, straight for her files. She pulls out the photo she had taken, then heads back outside, stopping in front of Austin again. Guilt swirls in her stomach now for taking the photo so she sheepishly holds it up for him to see. He raises a brow and is not very happy with her. "I am sorry, I took it," she whispers, she should never have taken it. "May I have it back, please," he asks, holding out his hand. It looks like he is trying to control his anger, and she knows better than to ask, but her mouth gets away from her. "Is that her? Is that the rancher?" she asks handing the photo over to him. "Aye," he whispers looking at the photograph. "What..." she starts but stops herself. She has pushed him hard for information tonight. She needs answers, but she doesn't want to push him away. He bites his lip again and looks like he is fighting with himself. "She died in a ridin' accident...she was my grandmother," he whispers. She was not expecting him to tell her that so she is caught off guard. But, this is good. He is opening up to her. However, his revaluation has thrown all her theories out the window. He did not buy this ranch; he inherited it. He is not an outsider he grew up here. So she is back at square one and even more lost than she was before this dam conversation started. Nonetheless, she has learnt now that the woman in the photo is not only the previous rancher but his grandmother too, so she gets overly excited and stupidly, her mouth starts before her brain does. "Who is that boy with you?" she asks, pointing to the boy in the photo. She watches his face go dark and a deep frown spreads across his face. Oh. OK. She had thought it might be Louis, but given the disdain on his face, she no longer thinks that. "We need not speak about him," Austin says through clenched teeth. There is so much anger there.

"Oh...I..."

"Darlin', you have had me writing a novel with the words I have offered you tonight," he hums, finishing the conversation as he tucks the photo into his pocket. She won't get any more from him on the subject. She can see that. And novel? The man has said all of ten words. Short novel, in her opinion, but to be fair, when it comes to Austin, he has shared quite a lot. "There is dinner inside," he says. "Oh...thank you...you, uh, you have eaten?" she asks when he sits back down. "No," he mumbles looking at the fire. Broody. That's what he looks like. It also looks like that weight of the world on his shoulders is a little extra heavy. Dillon feels evil for pushing him to speak. She feels horrible for voicing that he is a bad guy, that he lied to her, and that she wants to leave. She feels like she has betrayed him and so desperately wants to lighten his load.