20. Bosslady

Chapter 20

Bosslady

O akleigh crossed her arms over the wooden barn stall, watching over her chickens like a proud mother hen. Even being forced to stay indoors and out of the harsh weather hadn’t dampened the spirit, nor the volume of Nugget. The rooster had become the viral success that she had hoped. For her followers’ viewing enjoyment, she was even considering installing a twenty-four hour Nugget Cam . She couldn’t wait to tell Sawyer all about it when he was well enough to hear the news, and she brightened at the thought of his predictable exasperation.

Her brow furrowed with concern. Bethany had driven him to the hospital that afternoon at the doctor’s orders, and she had yet to hear an update.

The barn door swung open, letting in a burst of cold air that made the animals shuffle in their stalls.

Oakleigh prayed that it wasn’t Harper.

Please Lord, I’ve had enough of that woman today.

No matter how much Maeve encouraged her, Oakleigh was still building up walls of protection around herself. She felt incapable of finding the balance of loving her mother while yet still protecting herself with firm boundaries.

She was relieved to see Bethany appear in the doorway. She stepped beside Oakleigh, and leaned her elbows on the barn stall.

“Are these the famous chickens I’ve been seeing all over my social media feed?” Bethany asked with a soft smile that matched her tone.

“Aw! Yay,” Oakleigh exclaimed, tapping her hand against her heart. “It’s good to hear that the fans still like my content.”

“I’m still subscribed,” Bethany admitted with a shrug. “Just one of a few million.”

“Every view matters,” Oakleigh declared. “Especially since the town council basically killed my channel.”

Oakleigh’s eyes widened as she voiced her genuine concern. “For a minute there, I thought I was going to start having to do food reviews.”

“The town will come around, Oakleigh,” Bethany reassured. “Look at all the change you’ve started here.”

Oakleigh had always liked Bethany. The young woman was among the first people in town to accept her with open arms.

“Can you and Sawyer just get back together already?” Oakleigh coaxed with a sly smile. “I miss you around here.”

A sarcastic laugh burst from Bethany’s lips .

“It’s the same answer every time you ask,” Bethany replied, interlocking her fingers as she considered.

“We all know his first love is Callaway Ranch,” she sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t compete.”

Oakleigh pulled her in for a side hug, affection that would have been foreign to her in another chapter of life. Being around a family of huggers had freed the part of her that bristled at physical touch. Another lovely quirk she had picked up from her mother.

“Speaking of the ranch,” Bethany pivoted, “I’d like to stay and help with Sawyer if that’s okay?”

Oakleigh had been so uplifted by Bethany’s natural optimism that she had nearly forgotten about Sawyer altogether.

“How is the big lug?” she asked.

“He’ll live,” Bethany replied. “But he’ll have to take it easy for a while.”

Oakleigh rolled her eyes. She had dealt with Sawyer out sick before, and the pathetic cowboy was not an easy patient. She would be more than relieved to have Bethany’s positive spark around the ranch.

“Maeve said —?” she inquired.

“She said yes,” Bethany confirmed, “but she asked me to check with you.”

“If the bosslady said yes,” Oakleigh paused, her eyebrows scrunched together as she tilted her head, “then what does it matter? ”

“She might be the boss,” Bethany remarked, giving Oakleigh’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “But everyone knows you’re becoming someone important around here, too.”

Oakleigh took a deep breath, feeling a swell of pride at Bethany’s statement.

“You know my mom is here,” Oakleigh reminded. She didn’t have to break the news — they had witnessed Harper storming past them down the hallway.

“Feel free to stay — if you can handle an onslaught of petty insults,” she shrugged. “We’re happy to have you.”

“Audrey gave me the exclusive today when she was making my coffee,” Bethany snorted. “I know I shouldn’t laugh, but you should have seen how wide her eyes got.”

“She’s seen the aftermath of hurricane Harper,” Oakleigh chuckled. “It’s no joke.”

The last thing she wanted to discuss was her mother.

Baby goats scampered around them, and Oakleigh scooped one into her arms. She handed the little furball off to Bethany.

“Oh my gosh,” Bethany exclaimed, her voice going high as the squirmy, black-spotted baby goat bleated loudly in her arms.

“They haven’t really caught on for some reason,” Oakleigh shrugged. “All the followers seem to want are the chickens.”

“If all else fails,” Bethany chuckled. “I’ve heard goat yoga is a thing.”

Oakleigh ran her fingers across her chin as she genuinely considered. “Maeve would never go for it. ”

“Never say never,” Bethany smiled. “So — how are you doing with your mom being here?”

Bethany had clearly seen right through Oakleigh’s deflection. She sometimes reminded her so much of Paisley back in the days when they would suntan on the bow of the yacht and confide about the family drama. Her little sister always had a way of speaking truth and slicing through every facade.

Stop it, Oakleigh.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied quickly, hoping her overwhelming feelings of loss hadn’t traveled into her voice.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Just do me a favor,” Oakleigh quipped with an amused grin. “Keep Sawyer distracted long enough for me to install the Nugget Cam in the barn.”

“That I can do,” Bethany replied. “— I think.”

After completing the evening chores, Oakleigh joined Maeve in the living room with a mug in hand. She settled into the soft leather sofa by the roaring, crackling fireplace and took a long sip of her coffee.

Despite all the time Oakleigh spent honing her craft, nothing compared to Maeve’s expertise.

“It’s quiet,” Oakleigh remarked, relishing the silence.

“Finally,” Maeve agreed, taking a long drink of her dark black coffee .

There hadn’t been a moment of peace since Harper had arrived, and Sawyer’s accident had left an even greater feeling of unease.

“Bethany said Sawyer’s going to be just fine,” Oakleigh chimed in, merely making small talk.

“Oh, he’ll be okay,” Maeve replied. “He’s made of tougher stuff.”

“And —” Oakleigh didn’t have to finish her question. They knew each other well enough that her concerned expression conveyed it all.

“I’ll be fine,” Maeve answered, but she seemed distant like she had the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.

“Did you see that reel today from Melody Fields?” Oakleigh asked, pivoting to a more comfortable topic.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Maeve shook her head, taking the phone from Oakleigh’s extended hand. She pulled her reading glasses over her eyes, and tapped the screen.

The video had been recorded days earlier.

Tucker was standing in the frigid mountain weather. He was shivering in the light of his truck’s headlights. Snow was catching on the top of his cowboy hat, and piling up around the brim.

“Is it recording?” Tucker asked, swiping his glove over his frozen mustache. “Alright —Tucker here. ”

“I wanted to let our fans know that we’re still stuck in the pass,” he informed. “Big thanks to Callaway Ranch for stopping and giving us a hand.”

He swept his arm behind him to reveal Dallas working under the hood of the truck.

Oakleigh saw Maeve’s eyes brighten, just as she had hoped.

Dallas had obviously taken charge of the potentially dire situation. His hands were black with grease and he was pointing to different parts of the engine, giving orders to Colton and Wade.

Tucker stepped back into the center of the frame.

“We picked up some real fine bulls at the auction —”

“Oh, he sure did,” Maeve chuckled. “ Real top notch.”

“No amount of kindness is going to save Callaway Ranch at our next competition,” Tucker grinned, stifling an involuntary shiver as he pointed into the camera. “I’m coming for you, Maeve.”

“Tucker,” Maeve said, shaking her head.

“He’s smarter than he looks,” Oakleigh observed, retrieving her phone from Maeve’s hands. “He had 147 followers this morning,” she laughed. “He mentioned you and Callaway Ranch, and now he’s trending.”

Maeve took a sip of her coffee.

“I’ll never understand it.”

Oakleigh couldn’t help but be amused by Maeve’s intentional lack of concern regarding her status as an adored and admired internet celebrity .

The silence fell between them once again.

Maeve looked into the fireplace. She obviously had something on her mind as she ran her thumb over the mug’s smooth ceramic handle.

“Oakleigh, I’d like to ask you about something,” Maeve asked, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Sure, yeah,” Oakleigh replied. “Anything.”

“There’s certain topics we rarely discuss,” Maeve hinted. “And I have my reasons for that.”

She cleared her throat, looking away into the crackling fireplace as she collected her thoughts. “I’d never want you to feel like I’ve put you in the middle.”

“It’s fine,” Oakleigh responded quickly, hoping to ease Maeve’s concerns. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“I appreciate that,” Maeve acknowledged, propping her elbow on the arm of the sofa. “I guess I’d like to know about your grandparents — your mom’s parents,” she stumbled. “My parents, I guess.”

Maeve was the strongest woman that Oakleigh had ever known, yet there was a notable tinge of apprehension in her voice.

Oakleigh took a long sip of coffee.

She considered how she would move heaven and earth to help Maeve find an ounce of closure, but even she had been raised with her mother’s seemingly well-rehearsed script on the details of Harris and Vera Underwood.

“You have no idea how much I want to be able to help, Maeve,” Oakleigh insisted. “But I was really young when my parents took over the church.”

Her grandparents retired and moved to Florida, and they never really heard from them again. Other than the occasional birthday card stuffed with cash and a brief scribble from their grandmother, there was no real relationship to grasp onto.

“I always got a vibe with them,” Oakleigh said, offering what little she had, even if it was simply crumbs of intuition. “It was like no matter what my mom did to please them — it was never enough.”

Maeve continued to gaze quietly into the fireplace. She pulled the mug to her lips, and took another long drink of her coffee.

“If it was so bad, she could have left too, right?” Oakleigh dared to ask, feeling emboldened by Maeve’s rare moment of vulnerability on the family’s dirty laundry.

Maeve hesitated as though contemplating how to properly address the nuanced issue. She set her mug on the coffee table and crossed her arms.

“Oakleigh,” she ventured. “Don’t you always talk about how your parents treated you like a piece of property?”

“The Davenport brand, “ Oakleigh remarked, her lip curling into a smirk as she swirled the coffee around in her mug.

“That dynamic didn’t start with the Davenports,” Maeve carefully articulated, only saying just enough to get her point across and no more .

“I’ve always prayed she’d have the courage to step away,” she admitted, taking in a long breath. “But I also understand why she never did.”

Knowing it wasn’t fair to send Maeve further down the dark tunnel of triggering memories, Oakleigh opted to pivot into a topic that felt a little brighter.

“So when’s Dallas back?”

Maeve’s somber expression was instantly replaced with a smile. “Hopefully tomorrow night if the weather holds.”

“Should I expect him to join us for morning coffee?” Oakleigh inquired, angling for a glimpse of what their new normal was about to look like.

“No,” Maeve replied, retrieving her mug once again and pulling it to her lips. “That’s our time.”

Her statement brought a lump of emotion to Oakleigh’s throat. After the harsh words with her mother, who had the incredible knack of making her feel insignificant, it was reassuring to be a priority to Maeve.

“Thanks, Maeve,” Oakleigh replied. “You must really miss him, though.”

Maeve’s gaze drifted back to the fireplace, giving a somber smile that traveled to the fine creases in the corners of her eyes.

“You have no idea.”