Little Girl Lost {Jason}

[Ehetere]

Lottie’s face showed nothing but astonishment for a few moments, her mouth making the shape of a small ‘o’.

“You wonder why you’re all blokes, huh?”

Then her brow knotted together once again in a furious glare as she marched not outside but back to the room she’d left her clothes, gathering up a few with agitated jerky movements – a behavior that was a telltale sign of Lottie being very angry indeed.

Storming through the front door this time, she stuffed them into one of the saddle bags she’d just unpacked and slung them over one arm with a swag in the other she’d been sleeping on for a few nights now. She’d show him – she was just as capable to rough it out as any of these men.

Making rapid preparations to leave, she tossed the remainder of her supplies she wouldn’t need for a couple of days, she saddled up poor Jasper, who had only just gotten out of all that tack. Eager to please as ever, he was willing and rearing to go just as soon as Lottie was. The big black gelding quickly picked up on his master’s mood, setting him on edge. He was jittery and all over the place, confused and anxious at being taken out with such haste at such short notice. He didn’t understand why he was being separated from his big bay friend either, and called out frantically.

Determination was written all over Lottie’s face, and she leaned forward in the saddle, whispering into the black’s ear to calm him. A gentle squeeze got him going, and she shut the gate behind her before cantering out of there at a quick clip past the bewildered wranglers, Jasper’s long legs eating up the trail in easy relaxed strides.

Breathing deeply, it took her a few minutes to compose herself, but eventually the angry tight feeling left her chest. She’d known coming up here wouldn’t be easy, and she liked a challenge. But it would have been nice for the people to be at least a little more civil. Or one in particular, she’d judged every single on of the men in the high country on Jason Mannering. Still, you could judge a person on the quality of their friends, and if any of those men were anything like their friend then she was in for copping quite a bit of flack this year.

Slowing Jasper down so he’d have a chance to negotiate the rougher terrain, she moved off the marked trail, pulling out her rough sketch of a map and shoving her arms into her flannel shirt again. She hadn’t wanted to be moving in the heat of the day, but certain rude wranglers had left her no choice. If they weren’t going to give her a few lessons about life in the High Country, she’d have to learn by herself. She turned Jasper to the east she headed along Dead Horse Creek, towards the Crackenback and Thredbo country. She’d show them all what she was made of.