I nod. “He worked for a few years after college. We had to help Landry through school, but then he started getting modeling gigs.”
“And started his own company. All three of you, entrepreneurial like your mama.” Sadness slips through her gaze before she aims a knowing look my way. “Yet so much like Ram too. He could’ve waited a year or two to get married. Horny bastard.”
I shudder, hoping that phrase doesn’t take up permanent residence in my head when I think of my dad.
She tilts her head. “You said your brothers were coming back?”
“Bowen’ll be here next week. Landry is…” I shrug.
“The most like his father,” she grumbles. “If I don’t get to see him before I die, I’m going to haunt him, and it won’t be pretty.”
“I can pass that on for you, but I can’t promise he’ll read the message.”
“Do that.” She sniffs, then she lifts her chin. “What are you going to do about this place?”
The sudden change of subject is so fast I might hire Bea to run my meetings.
“My brothers and I are discussing that,” I hedge. I intend to shamelessly do what needs to be done, yet the news of our decision to sell gets wedged in my throat. Tension courses through my bones as if I’m in the midst of a stalemate. “I lefta message with Johnson, Hassan, and Associates about the will and trust, but…we want to sell.”
Her inhale’s sharp. “Damn. That’s disappointing to hear. You kids have been gone for twenty years, but your blood, sweat, and tears runs through these taps and the dirt of Crossroads Ranch.”
My collar grows too tight under her scrutinizing gaze. Bea understands what she’s implying. I press my fingertips together until my skin turns pale.
“If that were true, only thistle would grow in the ditches.”
“Do the city folk know you’re a smart-ass?”
I smirk, but my stomach dips. No. I work, and sometimes I fuck. If I socialize, it’s somehow for my career. I’m accustomed to being surrounded by concrete after being raised among rolling hills and buttes my brothers and I would climb. Doesn’t mean I’ve found a damn thing I want to do on all that pavement.
The pretty brunette spraying down the mash tanks flashes in my head, along with the tight way she held herself while spraying it down. A guy could come right up behind her on that stool and?—
Fuck, I need to get laid.
“How’s business?” I ask to change the subject just as fast as she did and get my mind off Meredith and the way her hips wiggled while she worked.
“Good,” she croons. “Meredith knows what she’s doing, and people like her.”
“What aren’t you saying?” I know how Dad was. I’m gonna need to know the bottom line.
“I’m saying, Ransom took over the books when I reduced my hours a few years ago,” she says with a sigh. “I handle the ordering and write up distribution deals.”
“Meredith?”
She shakes her head. “She offered to do it when she moved back from Williston, but Ransom would grumble, and nothingwould change.” Lines fan out from the corners of Bea’s eyes. “I don’t know if it’s good, Calder. I really don’t. I knew your dad for a long time, and I could tell when he was stressed. Something worried him.”
“Meredith doesn’t do any of the books?” Would she know the financial state the brewery is in? Would she tell me, or is that why she wants to stay on?
“She didn’t just offer. She insisted.” Bea shakes her head like she’s stressing Dad’s answer was no, and that it was a shame.
Voices filter in from the taproom. It sounds like customers are being greeted.
Delight shines in Bea’s pale blue eyes. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, and that somewhere is here. Should we have a drink and catch up?”
I’ve flown under the radar since I arrived in town, stopping only here, at the house, and the funeral home. I went to Williston earlier, but my anonymity remained intact. My arrival is getting around, and the taproom will attract the most talkative folks in and around Scandal.
It’s not ripping the bandage off, but it feels like it. “I’m buying.”
NINE
