“How ya doin’， soldier?” Bailey asks, propping a hip against the ice well to face me. She crosses her arms and inspects me a little too closely, as if she can sense that something is isn’t right.
I stare back at her, absently wondering how many freckles dot her nose. Wondering if they only crop up in the summer or if they linger through the winter. I’ve never looked at her close enough to notice. There’s one just above her lip that I’m pretty sure is always there.
I tear my gaze away and glance at the dance floor, seeing all my family members together. It’s nice to see them happy. I put them all through so much. And yet, I take a deep swig of soda, peek back at Bailey, and say, “I’m struggling.”
She nods. “Trust your struggle, Beau.”
“What does that mean?”
“If we’re struggling, we’re still in motion, yeah? Heading somewhere better. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.”
My chest tightens. I don’t want Bailey to struggle.
I’m where I am by choice. She’s where she is by birth. It seems profoundly unfair.
But I lift my glass to her all the same. “I’ll cheers to that. To struggling together.”
She laughs lightly and lifts her drink from behind the bar, clinking her glass against mine. “Less lonely that way, for sure.”
It’s a simple exchange. Probably nothing noteworthy to the average person beyond two fucked-up people commiserating.
And yet, knowing I have something in common with Bailey makes me feel instantly lighter.
I wish it was her I’d been out there dancing with.
Some people might find the blue sky and the chirping of birds charming. The smell of fresh mountain air and all that. And maybe I’m being ungrateful—that’s a distinct possibility—but the charm is all lost on me.
“Beau?”
My older brother’s voice cuts into my thoughts as I sit up on the back of a horse, staring over the ridge at a valley of cows who all look the fucking same. They look the same, they eat the same thing every day, they follow each other around almost blindly.
Everything about their existence seems very simple. Boring even.
And yet they all seem happy.
I wish I were a cow. Wish I could find some joy in the monotony of ranch life. Instead, I’m restless and writhing. Trapped beneath the surface of the perfectly manicured fa?ade I slip on for the benefit of everyone around me.
They want me to be okay. And I’m not. Not really. I want them to think I am. But these days? These days, I suck at maintaining my cover.
“Beau!” Cade’s voice is real mad now, and I can hear the danger in it. If I were his son, Luke, I’d be trembling in my boots.
But I’m not.
So I turn my head slowly to glance at my brother. “You’re dressed like some sort of emo cowboy. Why are you wearing all black on such a hot day?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Did you not hear me talking to you?”
I heard my name, but not much else.
“Sorry, just kinda got lost in enjoying the view. Blue skies, the birds chirping.” I wave a hand over the horizon. “It’s nice.”
My brother blinks at me, clearly unsure of what to say next. His eyelashes are so dark, he almost reminds me of a cow with the slow, lazy way he blinks at me.
“Hey, why do cows have such long eyelashes?” I ask, abruptly switching the subject.
His brow furrows in my direction beneath the brim of his cap. “What?”
“Their eyelashes. They’re just so damn long. What’s the point?”
What’s the point of anything?
The words crop up in my head. But they’re immediately followed by Bailey’s wisdom from this past weekend. And that has my lips tipping up ever so slightly.
Trust your struggle.
So I do. I trust that there’s a perfectly good reason my brain needs to know about cow eyelashes.
Cade clears his throat. I’m clearly confusing the hell out of him. And he’s doing the thing my family does where they cater to me, no matter how ridiculous I act. Tiptoe around me like it helps me when they accommodate my every whim somehow.
Not like Bailey, who gives me shit at every turn.
“It’s just to protect their eyeballs. Dust, rain, insects. That kind of thing.”
“Huh.” I rest my gloved hands on the horn of my saddle and gaze down at the whole dumb herd of them. “I should have figured that one out. Seems obvious now that you say it.”
He hits me with a forced smile, and I stifle a laugh. Cade pretending to be all soft and sensitive is too fucking awkward to take. I wish he’d make a mean joke and threaten to kick my ass.