Within fifteen minutes of arriving at the Donovan family ranch, I’ve learned almost more about Beau than I have the entire time we’ve been together. I know, for example, that he broke his arm when he was nine. Not by falling off a bull, but by tripping on the driveway and landing badly. I know he got into a fight when he was thirteen, because some boy tried to kiss Cassidy at school when she didn’t want to be kissed. I know that unlike his twin brother Nash, he’s basically tone-deaf and can’t sing tosave his life; when he’s home, he single-handedly tends to the rose garden that their mother adored. ‘Some people call him the bull whisperer,’ Nash confides, ‘but I think he’s more of a rose whisperer.’
I bite back a smile at that.
I also learn that he built the barbecue in the pretty stone courtyard by hand, and that his barbecues are legendary around these parts, just like he said. The family has assembled hay bales for seats, set up a table with a red and white tablecloth and a heap of salads, plates and cutlery, and strung festoon lights overhead, giving the place a charming, cosy feel as the sun dips down.
Beau is across the courtyard from me, checking the meat. Austin told me he got up at sunrise to start cooking, smoking the ribs all day before finishing them up on the grill.
‘He’s crazy about this stuff,’ Cole chimed in, sitting beside his wife, Beth, one arm casually draped around her shoulders.
My gaze travels to them often, because they just look so happy and in love. My general rule of thumb is that looks can be deceiving. After all, I thought Kirk and I were in love and look how wrong I was. But with Cole and Beth, it’s hard to imagine any cracks in their marriage. Just by looking at them, I can feel how in step they are. It would be sickening if they weren’t both so damn nice. And if Beth clearly didn’t love Beau with her whole heart.
In fact, watching this family and their dynamics, you’d be hard-pressed to pick who’s new and who’s not. They’re just such a well-oiled machine, their jokes timed perfectly, their banter so natural that it makes something inside of me stretch wide open.
I don’t often think about the fact I’m an only child, but it’s hard not to miss the idea of siblings as I sit here, surrounded by Donovans.
‘Okay.’ Beau claps his hands together. ‘Not long now. Bet y’all are glad I’m home,’ he grins.
‘Yeah, we’ve missed your cooking,’ Nash says, patting his brother on the back.
‘Only your cooking,’ Austin calls, as he comes to sit beside me, carrying two glasses of wine. He hands one over.
Up close, I can see the similarities to Beau.
‘You like chardonnay?’
I sniff the wine. ‘I like most wines.’
His smile is appreciative but also distracted. ‘This one’s from Napa, though generally I’m a fan of Australian chardonnay.’
‘You’re into wine?’
He nods.
‘Are the rest of them?’ I nod to the Donovansen masse, earning a laugh from Austin.
‘Hardly. Their favourite grape is beer.’
‘Right.’ I smile, then lean a little closer. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you that I like beer too.’
‘Liking beer is fine. Appreciating wine is something else altogether.’
I take a sip of the chardonnay. ‘It’s nice,’ I say. And because he seems to be waiting for something more I add, ‘Dry?’
His eyes spark with mine. ‘Very good. Now hold it like this a while.’ He cups the bottom of his glass in his hands. ‘Eventually it will warm up a little, release some more of those flavours.’
I imitate his grip on the glass.
‘Beau tells me you’re in the service?’
He nods, pose relaxed, but there’s something about him that triggers my finely honed reporter instincts. ‘I’m on leave right now.’
‘For how long?’
Something tightens on his face. ‘Hard to say.’
‘You’re injured?’
He nods once.
