‘He hurt you,’ Beau says gruffly. ‘But he doesn’t deserve to keep on hurting you. And you deserve so much more than him.’
‘I know,’ I say, my smile wistful. Because of Beau, I’ve started to think that maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll accept that, and let myself go again. One day I might just let myself fall, andvanquish Kirk’s grip on me forever. If I meet someone just like Beau, anyway.
‘He’s not like he seems, you know,’ Beth says over a cup of coffee the next morning. The sunlight cuts across the wide well-worn floorboards so they bask in gold, and a sweet puppy with boot-like fur for paws makes a deep exhalation. Beth leans down and pats his stomach distractedly, like she doesn’t realise she’s doing it.
Beau is somewhere around, but I haven’t seen him yet. I got an Uber out here—I’m as surprised as anyone that this town has such a thing, but apparently a few of the newcomers decided to give it a go, and it’s stuck.
‘In what way?’ I ask, knowing that I’m straying close to unprofessional territory, because I’m probing Beth for two reasons. Oh, I need to interview his family for the article, but I’d be lying if I pretended there wasn’t also a healthy amount of personal curiosity at play.
‘All that swagger,’ she says, with an affectionate roll of her eyes. ‘He’s a lot sweeter than he seems.’
My heart contracts a little at this genuine and freely given praise. I know she’s right; I’ve scratched way beneath the surface. He still tries to keep me at bay when he can, with that quick smile and all thosedarlin’s, but I know better now. I knowhimbetter. I’ve seen inside, to his hopes, dreams, fears, failings; I see all of him. Each and every facet. Knowing that makes my heart race a little faster, my pulse fire like crazy.
‘How long have you lived out here?’ I ask, making a note on my pad just to underscore the journalistic side of what I’m doing.
‘A little over two years.’ Her smile is wistful. ‘I came out here for a temp job.’ She looks around, expression bemused. ‘And never really left again.’
‘You love it?’
‘It’s home.’ Her gaze drifts back to mine. ‘I used to think the world began in Harlem and ended at Battery Park,’ she says, with a wrinkle of her nose. ‘I was Manhattan, through and through. That’s what he calls me, you know. Manhattan.’
‘Beau?’
She nods affectionately. ‘At first, it scared the heck out of me. He was so friendly, so over-the-top nice. I’d never met anyone like him. But then I got to know him, to see that there’s more to him than just the flippant comments, the determined sunniness.’
‘He’s not sunny?’ I prod.
‘No, no, he is. He’s great. He’s pretty happy, but he also thinks a lot, cares deeply. He’d take a bullet for anyone in this family in a heartbeat. He’s one of the good ones.’
My heart lurches. I drop my head, scanning my notepad, terrified she’s going to see something in my face that shows how much her statement affects me. How much Beau affects me.
‘Tell me about his bull riding,’ I invite, trying to get the conversation properly back on track, needing my professionalism now more than ever.
‘You’ve been to a few events,’ Beth says. ‘I thought you’d know just about everything there is to know.’
‘I mean, about your thoughts on it.’
I glance up in time to see Beth’s features tighten, her hand reaching out for the coffee cup, shaking slightly. She smiles a little as she lifts it and takes a sip—a delaying technique, if ever I’ve seen one.
‘After his accident, it can’t have been easy to see him go back,’ I push, gently though, because upsetting anyone in Beau’s family is the last thing I want to do.
‘I presume you’ve seen the footage?’ she asks carefully.
I nod once, wishing I could blot the images from my mind, wishing they didn’t torment me every time he goes near a damn bull. I’m already dreading the event on the weekend. I know how much it means to him, because it’s in his home state, but the thought of watching him go out there and ride like he’s got nothing to lose sticks in my chest like a grenade waiting to go off.
‘It kills us, to think of that happening again.’ Her features are stricken, her face pale. ‘Every time he rides, we’re all holding our breath. Cole doesn’t even watch; he can’t bear to.’
‘But you do?’
Her expression shows pain. ‘I can’t bear not to,’ she admits. ‘I feel like if I watch, hold my breath, keep my fingers crossed, pray the whole time, maybe that will keep him safe.’
I don’t tell her that’s pretty much what I did last weekend. ‘You’re all really close.’
Beth brightens. ‘Yeah.’
‘It must be nice.’
Her eyes soften. ‘I never knew anything like this.’ She gestures to their home, her gaze following her hand’s trajectory. ‘I don’tcome from a big family, at all. The way they all talk over each other, laugh and joke, get in one another’s business—it’s like a story. Like, how can this be real?’ She crinkles her nose. ‘You know what they’re calling our baby?’ she asks, slipping her gaze back to mine.
