Mia came into the bunkhouse, threw her coat over the rocking chair, and with a long sigh flopped down on the sofa. Stevie knew there were unspoken words behind that sigh, and they were not good. She’d done the same thing too many times to count since she was Mia’s age.

“Coffee, tea, or beer?” Stevie followed Mia’s example, and removed her coat but took it to her bedroom.

“Beer, unless you’ve got whiskey hiding here somewhere,” Mia answered.

“Beer it is.” Stevie headed to the kitchen. She’d seen Cody give Mia beer but never hard liquor, so evidently that was all right in the Ryan family. She took two long-neck bottles from the refrigerator, twisted the tops off both, and carried them to the living area.

Mia reached up, took one from her, and downed about a fourth before she came up with a loud burp. “Beau would probably tell me that was cute, instead of saying that ladies don’t do that.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Stevie sat down in the rocking chair on the other side of the beat-up coffee table.

“He’s too perfect.” Mia sighed again. “Mama likes him. Daddy and Poppa think he hung the moon, and I want to like him. I really do.”

“But?” Stevie asked.

“He’s even rich.” Another long sigh, and she downed more of the beer. “He works at the feed store so he can get to know other ranchers, and he takes online classes to learn more about ranching, and his grandpa has already told him that when he dies, his big ranch will go to Beau,” Mia groaned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Stevie asked.

“He won’t ever ask me for my money, and he’s doing everything he can to learn to be a good rancher. He’s a good man, but there’s no sizzle like there was with Ricky. I wanted there to be, but it’s just not there,” Mia said. “Do you think it’s because he’s not as sexy as Ricky? Or maybe I’m just drawn to bad boys, and good guys don’t do jack squat for me.”

Stevie could commiserate with Mia. On so many of her dates, the sizzle, whether real or imagined, she thought she would feel with Cody wasn’t there either. “I don’t think it has to do with whether a guy is tall, dark, and handsome or even a little bit of a bad boy. It’s…” She stopped when a hard knock on the door broke her concentration.

Mia set her beer on the table and hopped up from the sofa. “I’ll get it. Justine was coming over this evening. Mama probably sent her down here.”

“Tell her to come on in,” Stevie said.

Mia raced across the floor and threw open the door. “Come on in,” she said and then, “Beau?”