northern attitude

adelaide was too damn close to the start of it for comfort. the second the crowd realized what was happening, everything went sideways, people shoving, rushing, no sense of direction. she got pushed hard, sent back into a tent where the canvas dipped and dragged her with it, knocking her off balance.

“help!” her voice cut through the noise, sharp with urgency.

then came the scream. sebastian was nearing his truck when he heard it, turning to spot the distinct orange glow rising above the booths. he kept a fire extinguisher in his backseat, but he recognized the fire’s location all too well. the food trucks. a dry powder extinguisher wouldn’t work on grease, it would only reignite. and then the sickening realization of who was bound to be by the food trucks.

people were racing toward their cars, forcing him to push around them. if there was any chance she was still there… he heard her instead of seeing her, immediately slowing to scan the booths. “adelaide?” he called out, bracing an arm over his face to block out some of the smoke.

“theo.” he lifted his bottle in an echo of the gesture, offering a brief nod in return and acknowledgement. “you a local, or..?” his head tipped slightly, before his mouth curved upwards. “and we can probably rule out getting properly plastered,” he added half as an afterthought, “as appealing as it sounds, i’ve got work in just over twelve hours.” he chuckled, “so you’ll have to forgive me for making the most of it while i can.”

“hardly. i’ve been here nearly twenty years since i moved here, and i’m still learning things.” he pushed a hand through his hair, raising his shoulder in a shrug. “the people are good though, interesting.” upon hearing theo’s work schedule, he shook his head empathetically. “unlucky, no one wants to work the night after the rodeo.” he should know, having done exactly that in years past. even when he didn’t care for all aspects of the annual event, it was considerably less appealing sober. “what do you do for work?”

“since when have you ever listened to me in the first place?” her voice dropped, low enough not to draw attention. she popped another mini donut into her mouth, like this was just another easy, passing conversation.

“you didn’t even fight for it.” it didn’t matter that he’d done exactly what she asked, that he’d given her space. there was still a part of her that hated the quiet that followed, hated not having him there, not having the way he grounded her.

a moment passed before she looked off, letting whatever flickered in her eyes settle before finding him again. “maybe you’ll find some… pretty little thing to take home tonight.” a small pause. “seems more your speed.”

sebastian looked at her then, really looked. the rapidly disappearing donuts, the way her gaze was a moving target. it was all a diversion, a way to distract from the sincerity of her words. 

their lapse of communication had been mutual, his choice to step aside and respect her decision no less of a choice than hers. “you didn’t leave me with anything to fight for.” he knew it was a lie as the words left his mouth. 

then her expression shifted and it was as if a door closed. “careful, someone might get the idea you care.”

over time, adelaide had learned it was easier to put that weight on him than to sit with the guilt she carried. her father’s death had left more behind than grief. the last time she’d seen him, it had ended in an argument, about sebastian, about the two of them, and that was what stayed with her. she hadn’t just lost her father that day. she’d lost the one person who saw her as more than a name.

silence stretched between them, her eyes fixed on him as he grabbed his order. when he stepped close, it hit her all at once, that familiar cologne, something she hadn’t quite managed to forget. it used to linger in her pillows, her shirts. “i waited for you that night.” her voice stayed steady, even if everything else didn’t. the night she pushed him away, hoping he’d come anyway.

“you didn’t show.” a small pause. “so i guess you did do the leaving after all.”

“you can’t put that on me.” she was many things, but indecisive wasn’t one of them. she’d been very clear about what she wanted when she ended things, and for once, he’d listened. he understood it. her father had died, she needed to put her family first, and that meant cutting him out. he didn’t belong in her life; plain and simple. “not when i stayed away because you told me to.”

he took a step towards her. “you ended things, addie.” the slip steadied him, and his voice dropped on instinct. if their relationship had existed in shadow, there was no need to draw attention to it now. “don’t blame me for not being a mind reader.”

there it was, that sense of familiarity, though his name still hadn’t clicked until he offered it. “ciara.” a brief pause. “you might know me as doctor callahan.” he’d come through the er a handful of times with patients.

“enjoying yourself?”

her name explained the vague recognition, a trip to the emergency room with one of the rookies coming to mind. “you treated one of my rookies for smoke inhalation.”

enjoying was relative. “what’s not to love about bulls and lassos?” for all intents and purposes, he was having a great time. he’d seen his ex, suffered through a brisket sandwich that had lost its taste, and now was watching grown men be flung around by cattle. “my mother used to bring me to these for the barrel racing,” he redirected, looking over at her. “how about you?”

her head turned as a little girl ran past, clutching a wand of cotton candy, and for a second, it gave her something else to focus on. something to steady her. when her eyes found his again, there was something quieter there. "your standards have dropped since me.” a beat. “can’t blame you.” it wasn’t how she usually handled things, too close to honest.

adelaide had found comfort elsewhere when she needed it, arms to fill the space, nights meant to distract, but it never lasted. never stuck. “probably for the best.”

he leaned against the stand, eyes scanning the fair behind her for a moment. “right, well… i guess you could say i didn’t have the stomach for it.”

it was a mercy when the vendor called out his number. he turned to grab it, though eating was now the furthest thing from his mind. he stepped back toward her, his voice dropping. “you know, the leaving part. i usually prefer to have a say in that.” and then he was stepping out of her space, moving back into the crowd.

or maybe it hadn’t been. maybe it was just what she did, push people away the moment they started to matter. either way, it didn’t change anything now.

“i could agree with that.” a brief pause. “especially when it comes to the women you date.” the implication didn’t need explaining. adelaide popped one of the sugary donuts into her mouth, giving herself something else to focus on before she said something worse.

he schooled his features, indignation taking the place of sentiment. if this was how she wanted to play it, so be it. “i don’t know, i think some of them are alright.” 

to her credit, there were many, some more ‘dates’ than others. the latter pulled at his sensibilities— he was hardly the type for one night stands, but that was all they became. anything to block her out. “but you wouldn’t know ‘em.”

“you work at the firehall, right?” between the firefighters and paramedics who passed through the er, faces had a way of blending together.

the question earned a nod. "i do.” he glanced at her again, searching for recognition that didn't quite land— his memory always had a way of failing him. "what gave it away?" between the station emblem on his shirt and the soot that clung to his hair, she could take her pick.

he took a slow sip of beer, the plastic cup crinkling. “i’m sebastian.”

if anyone had tried to claim that three months would be enough to understand a place like this, then it was for sure that they’d be lying. theo knew that much now as sure as he felt it settle in as he lingered at the edge of the field, circling slowly and watching everything that was unfolding before he'd even thinking of stepping into it.

he’d only just arrived, technically. found himself held back at work longer than intended because it always ran that way, didn’t it? duty wasn't something that clocked out cleanly, and neither did he. but eventually he’d torn himself free of it, and now here he was as a drink found its way into his hand from someone that could've been vaguely familiar, friendly or not, but he couldn’t quite place. still, theo accepted it all the same before drifting further into what might generously be called a well mannered form of chaos. or not.

he'd considered briefly avoiding the rodeo altogether, but here he was instead. there was shouting, betting, cheers that echoed and broke all around. and theo didn't understand a fucking word of it, not really. and he didn't really care that it showed either when that was caught by another as he leaned his hip against the post to watch.

“spirit of the town, isn't it?” his tone dry, laced just a little however with amusement, “to witness the shit i haven’t the faintest clue how to follow along.” he tipped the bottle back then, taking a longer drink than usual and already half thinking about how he’d need something stronger once this was finished. and nicer than bloody beer. but his gaze flicked back over to the ring, not quite unimpressed, but not entirely engaged either. “mildly entertaining,” he hummed out quietly, “that’s about as generous as i can be so far.”

he’d picked up photography sometime in high school, and it had stuck, a small film camera accompanying him at all times. little things caught his eye: the angle of the light against a shop window, the way a bird lingered on a fencepost, moments worth keeping.

redford had a quiet appeal that was easy to miss if you didn't look for it. so unlike the rocky coast of maine he’d grown up with, but it charmed him all the same. 

unlike the man beside him, it seemed.

“you’ll get used to it,” he said, glancing over. then, noting the long pull from his beer, he added, “or you’ll be too plastered to care.” 

he tucked the camera back into his jacket pocket, lifting his drink in a half-gesture. “sebastian.”

adelaide had always had a soft spot for the redford annual rodeo. meant spring was finally settling in. meant powdered sugar on her fingers from too many mini donuts, rides she’d never quite outgrown, the ferris wheel, the bumper cars, and the rodeo, of course. but more than any of it, it was the singing. that part had never changed. somewhere along the way, it just became her thing, the youngest decker and her voice.

it didn’t take much guessing where she’d end up first. straight to the mini donut truck, ordering the biggest bag they’d hand over like she had something to prove. not a single ounce of regret about it, either.

she could feel someone staring, though, that familiar weight of eyes lingering a little too long. she took her time turning, looking the stranger over like she wasn’t in any rush at all.

“you’d be real dumb not to get yourself a bag, darlin’.” a sweet smile sat easy on her lips.

today, seb had come straight from the station, the last call of his shift dragging out longer than anticipated. an old barn fire on the outskirts of town. nothing burned quite as fast as straw, but it was doing a sweep for the farmer’s cats that had taken some time. figures when the number kept changing — well, there’s the mother, then she had a litter of twelve last year… another five last month… and the neighbors' cats liked to chase the mice….

by the time they finished, he only had time to throw on a firehouse shirt that was in the cab of his truck. regardless, it made little difference to help the smoke that still clung to his hair.

but he was starving and made quick work of weaving through the crowd to the food trucks. team roping could wait.   

he spotted her sooner than he’d like to admit, his jaw clenching as he forced his attention to a chalkboard menu. it was bound to happen sooner rather than later; diligent avoidance no match for the allure of the fair. the vendor had to call out to break his focus, tearing his eyes away from words he couldn’t even remember reading. he stumbled through an order —a brisket sandwich, maybe— and only just managed to take his number before he felt her eyes on him. 

“i’d argue i wasn’t all that smart to begin with.”

there was always an appeal to the redford annual rodeo. her parents took her every year growing up, but with who they were, it was never really about family time, more about appearances, about connections. still, it was here that her love for horses took root. she’d spend the entire day perched in the arena, watching event after event, with barrel racing always her favorite.

ciara arrived a few minutes later than she cared for, weaving through the crowd until she spotted an empty seat just as the bull riding was about to begin. a sense of relief settled in, easing the lingering anxiety. then it hit her, someone was sitting beside the seat. her gaze shifted, expression softening slightly as she spoke.

“this seat isn’t taken, is it?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t have to keep moving.

he was only half-paying attention when he heard the question, turning to look at her. “it is now.” 

for good measure, he pulled his jacket onto his lap and out of her way. “you haven’t missed much; there was just a false start. the rider didn’t nod.” he hoped that she wouldn’t have any follow-up questions. after nearly twenty years of living in town, he was still lucky to understand the basic rules of the sport.