‘What?’
‘Ranch Baby. Like I’m some kind of host mom or something,’ she says on a laugh. ‘I mean, I might be growing the kid inside me and be destined to push it out, but make no mistake, it’s all of our baby, not just Cole’s and mine.’
I laugh at that, reflecting on how well she’s captured Beau’s tone when he talked about Beth being pregnant.We’re having a baby.Something tightens inside of me that I blink away, my smile heavy on my face.
‘Anyway—’ Maybe she misunderstands my reaction, because her voice is suddenly businesslike. ‘I hope your article captures what a good guy he is.’
I turn back to face her, bemused. ‘Do you think I’m writing a hit piece or something?’ I use Beau’s phrasing, from a couple of weeks ago.
Beth’s eyes roam my face thoughtfully, her head tilted to the side a little. Her long blonde hair is swept over one shoulder, and she studies me before taking another sip of her coffee.
‘No,’ she says after a lengthy pause, her lips turning down in the corners. ‘But I guess the temptation is to have light and shade, to contrast his sunny nature with something else. Something maybe dark and gritty.’ She lifts her shoulders. ‘Beau deserves to come off well.’
I feel that burst of warmth again, at the people Beau has in his corner, but something else too. Something that feels like icy fingers around my heart, because in contrast I’m so alone. Last night, lying underneath the stars, clamped to Beau’s side, for a moment it was as though I had someone in my corner too, but it was an illusion. Or, at the very best, temporary. Not like this. These people are threaded together for all time.
‘This family’s pretty special,’ I say, true warmth in the words.
‘Yeah.’ Her smile is nostalgic. ‘Tell me about it. I was here about three seconds before I felt like they’d all adopted me.’
‘That seems to have worked out pretty well for everyone.’
She takes a sip of her coffee, nodding. ‘We’re a good team.’
‘Cole and you?’
‘All of us. That’s not to say it’s perfect. I mean, there are some clashes. Mack and Nash, for example,’ she says, then apparently remembers I’m a reporter, and visibly clamps her lips together.
‘Beau’s told me they argue sometimes. About her music?’
She looks relieved. ‘Oh, good. I thought I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to.’
‘Not at all. I’m really not interested in writing salacious gossip. This is a story about Beau, to appeal to fans of bull riding, or people who like sports in general. Most of it is going to be focused on him, his determination and drive, what it’s like when he gets on a bull. You know, human-interest stuff.’
Her head does that thoughtful little tilt again. ‘But you’re here, interviewing us?’
Heat moves from my head to my toes. I feel like she’s just accused me of sleeping with Beau, when her confusion is completely understandable. ‘I’m thorough,’ I say, with a small clear of my throat. ‘It helps me get a full picture of him, which means I can write a better article. I do this kind of thing with all my pieces.’
‘I’ve read a lot of what you’ve written.’
My eyes jerk to hers, surprised. ‘You have?’
‘When Beau told us you were doing this, I wanted to make sure …’ Her voice trails off into nothing.
‘That you could trust me.’
‘I know it sounds absurd—he’s a man-mountain in the prime of his life, he could practically tame a tiger with those hands of his,’ she adds, rolling her eyes, doing nothing for the heat that’s forming beneath my skin.
‘Yeah,’ I say, sounding as thirsty as I feel. I quickly chug some coffee, scalding my tongue a little in the process.
‘I wanted to make sure of the kind of article you’re writing. You have a really nice way with words, Bailey.’
I don’t know Beth well enough for her opinion to mean anything, but somehow it does. She seems intelligent and measured, and the fact she’s done a deep dive on my writing and is impressed makes me feel like I’ve just won a medal. She doesn’t know anything about my journalistic pedigree, who my dad is, the claims I’ve had to fight against all my life. Her judgement is based purely on me.
‘I look forward to reading it. Do you need anything more from me?’
I tap my pen against the notepad and shake my head. ‘I guess I’ll go in search of my next victim.’
‘Try Nash first. He’ll be heading back to the city this afternoon, so this’ll be your last chance. At least before the event. He’ll be coming to that, obviously.’
