Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I need to fix that,” I said before I finished off the beer.
Dad drank the rest of Morgan’s and then handed the glass to Ryan, who promptly refilled it.
“Blayze, I need a favor,” Dad said.
“If it’s about the north pasture, I’ve already ordered the fencing to fix that broken wire.”
He smiled. “No, that’s not it, but thank you for being on top of things.”
I nodded. I lived for this ranch and doing a good job for my father and grandfather. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for either of them. For my entire family, if I was being honest.
“This is something different. A good friend of mine and your Uncle Ty’s—you remember him, Jeff Crenshaw, he used to bull ride with me—called me earlier.”
My heart felt like it stalled in my chest. “Jeff, yeah, he used to be one of the announcers on NBC, right? He and his family came to the ranch every summer for a few years.”
I could feel Morgan and Ryan’s eyes on me, but I wasn’t about to look at either one of them.
Dad nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at me with a knowing look. “His daughter, whom I’m pretty sure you remember, is in Montana to do an interview with the family. It’s kind of like one of those where are they now things.”
My heart felt like it dropped straight to my stomach.
“Is this a piece on just you, Dad, or Uncle Ty, Uncle Tanner, and Uncle Dirk as well?” Morgan asked.
“Mainly me, Ty, Tanner, and Dirk, but she will be trying to interview most of the family. Just not the younger kids very much. Jeff mentioned they’d like to do a special piece on you, Blayze.”
That made me jerk upright. My father was clearly trying to act nonchalant when he dropped that little bomb. “Me? Why me?”
Ryan chuckled. “I’m going to guess it’s because you didn’t follow in your old man’s footsteps.”
“And that makes for a good interview?” I asked with a hint of anger in my voice. There was a reason I had decided to leave bull riding and that life. And it was no one’s business why.
Dad nodded.
“What about Hunter? I’d imagine they’d want to talk to him more than Blayze,” Morgan asked. “After all, he’s one of the top-ranked team ropers in college. And what about Bradly? He’s dang near ready to join the PBR pro circuit.”
My father smiled at Morgan and I could see the pride in his eyes—not only for Hunter and Bradly, but for Morgan sticking up for them.
My younger brother Hunter was doing team roping, following in my Uncle Tanner’s footsteps. He was damn good and had already won a few events in high school and college. He really excelled at bull riding, but only did it for fun or for charity events—much to my mother’s relief. Bradly, my Uncle Dirk’s son, was on his way to becoming better than any of us. The kid was damn good on the back of a bull.
“She’s planning on interviewing Hunter and Bradly—if they’re able to make it home at all this next month,” Dad said.
“Wait, she’s going to be here in a month?” I asked, trying to keep the horror out of my voice.
Dad took another sip of his beer and nodded. “Yes. She’s currently working as a freelance writer for some big magazine. The network Jeff works for just purchased a sports magazine, and his Georgiana has been trying to make a name for herself with it. It’s hard for a woman in the sports field. Jeff called in a favor and asked me if we’d do the piece and let her interview the family. I said yes. If interviewing us can help her move her career forward, then it’s the least we can do.”
“Why? What do we owe her?” I asked, regretting the words the moment they were out of my mouth.
Giving me a hard look, my father said, “Her father is one of my oldest friends. He’s never once asked me for anything. Don’t let the past cloud your manners, son.”
Ryan cleared his throat and pushed a beer in front of me.
I exhaled a frustrated breath. “I was sixteen, Dad. I’ve let that go.”
All he did was raise a single brow before he turned to Morgan. “Georgiana writes for a couple of fashion magazines, Vogue being one of them. Jeff said she’d probably be happy to speak with you, Morgan.”
That perked my fashion major sister right up. “Of course! I’ll help out in any way I can, you know that, Daddy.”
My father leaned over and kissed Morgan on the forehead. “I knew you would, sweetheart. You’ll like Georgiana. She’s twenty-six, and from what her father has told me, she’s really into fashion. He’s surprised she’s still going down the sports-writing path, but at this point he thinks she’s simply trying to make a statement.”