Peyton lifted her head to stare lasers through her sister. “Go. Away.”
Bea tsked and sat down softly on the guest chair, legs crossed daintily, foot swinging in some delicate, impractical sandal. “I’m here on official business.”
“Business?” That made Peyton do a double take. “What business?”
“Ranch business. I was thinking about making some changes to spruce things up.”
Peyton blanched. “What?”
Bea rolled her eyes. “Well, you said I had to wait before I could cash in on my portion, right?”
“Yes. I also said you could wait back in California, since there isn’t anything specific you can do here.”
“But there is. Something specific,” Bea clarified. “I got to thinking, and I’m really not the person to help in the barn.”
“Shock among shocks,” Peyton muttered.
“I’m ignoring that for now. But my main reason for staying is that I would like to help with the M-Star’s image.”
“Image.” Peyton rolled the idea around her mind a moment like a marble. “Nope. Still don’t get it.”
Bea stood and then balanced one hip on the edge of the solid desk. “You’re selling horses and experience. But you’re also selling an image. All businesses have an image. We want ours to reflect the right tone. Professional, knowledgeable, but not ostentatious. You don’t want to scare away the novices with something that will intimidate them, but you also don’t want grand champions to think we only cater to kids and weekend cowboys. An every-cowboy ranch. Beginners to winners.” She grinned at the thought. “That’s a good pitch point.”
Peyton filed the fact that Bea used the words “we” and “ours” in regard to the business for later thought and went with the more immediate questions. “Exactly what did you have in mind?”
“Oh, just little changes here and there.” She waved a hand in the air like that was helpful. “Nothing major, since I’m sure you and Trace would veto me without even giving it a chance.”
Peyton thought for a moment, then shrugged. If it gave her sister something to do, then why not? “Nothing major,” she repeated again.
“Of course. Now I’ve got something to do.” Bea looked around for a minute. “Hey! Idea time. Let’s go grab a drink.”
The thought of going into town on purpose, when she had no clue how far the gossip had already spread, made something bitter and vile rise up and choke her. She shook her head.
Bea’s face softened. “What was it Emma always used to say about people gossiping about us? When Mama would make a fool out of herself again and kids would tease us at school?”
Peyton rolled her eyes and mimicked Emma’s voice. “When people start flinging the shit, pull on some waders and trudge through.”
Bea smiled. “Hiding won’t make it any better. But showing your face, as if you have nothing to hide, that stops the talk a lot faster.”
“You have no clue what this is even about,” Peyton shot back.
“You and Red?” When Peyton’s face flushed, Bea nodded. “Trace told me, more as a warning to not tease you than anything.
“Trace knows, too?”
Bea nodded again. “So there it is. It’s out, it’s in the open. Time to deal with it.”
“I don’t want to just ‘deal with it.’ ” Peyton crossed her arms over her chest, knowing the action was childish. “I want it to go away.”
“And it will, if you just show your face, keep your head up, and act like there’s nothing to talk about. If a man slept with a woman in his employ, nobody would give a damn.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Peyton mumbled. Life was so not fair.
“So show them you can take the lumps but you’re going to keep going. Show them how tough Peyton Muldoon is. Show them the backbone M-Star was built on.”
Peyton stared, openmouthed, at her sister. Her baby sister, the one who she would have sworn had nothing but cotton stuffed between her ears, had just given an amazing, motivational speech that had Peyton wanting to hug her and cry on her shoulder in gratitude.
“Wow. Bea . . .” Peyton shook her head, amazed. “That was something else.”
Bea grinned. “I know, right? It was from a scene they cut from my second to last episode of The Tantalizing and the Tempting. I just changed a few words.”
Ah, there she was. And the world made sense once more. “I’m not going.”
“Peyton, please? I am dying for some company other than Emma and the kid. And you’re the best thing I’ve got.”