his folder. Everyone at the table follows suit, except for me, since I didn’t get one.
“Let’s review things. We have a few questions, if you don’t mind, Bobby?”
I lean back in my chair, hoping it appears casual. “Open book.”
And thus begins the interrogation of my life. Chief Gibson should take lessons from these people because those little folders of theirs contain my entire life story, from birth to damn near what I had for breakfast this morning—an egg sandwich at the airport—and how often I shit—regularly.
I’m not even sure how they got all this information.
“Who are your musical influences?” Glasses Guy asks, pen at the ready to jot them down on a little yellow sticky note.
“Classics and current stuff, but I try to stay true to myself for my music. Hell, even when I sing Johnny Cash, it sounds a little more me than him.”
Glasses Guy hums and writes down Johnny Cash like that’s some ground-breaking, revealing detail of my inner musician. Everyone they’ve ever seen in country music probably says Johnny, Hank, and Waylon right off the top.
“Let’s do a rundown of your current situation,” a lady in a blue blouse says. It matches her eyes perfectly.
“Like my living situation?” I shrug, not having any clue why that’d matter to them. “I live on the farm I grew up on, though we sold it to the neighbors a while back when times got tough. I’m a farmer, grow fruits and vegetables that we sell at market and that my sister uses to run her business. I can tell you about growing heirloom tomatoes, watermelons, apples, peaches, pears, green beans, carrots, potatoes . . . just about anything that grows, I’ve probably done it if it’s climate appropriate for Great Falls.”
Blue Blouse smiles pityingly and I keep rambling to see if I can find the answer she’s looking for.
“My brother, Brody, still lives in our family house too. His woman, Rix—she’s the mechanic I was talking about—comes over a lot. My brother, Brutal, married his high school sweetheart, Allyson, a while back. They have a boy, Cooper, who’s smart as a whip. My sister, Shayanne, married the guy next door and now she’s a Bennett. But we all kinda got adopted by Mama Louise.”
Blue Blouse leans forward, and the words stop pouring thoughtlessly when she taps the table with a pink fingernail. “I meant, what’s your situation? Married, dating, single?”
Oh, that I can answer easily.
“Willow. She’s mine.” I can feel the smile stretching my face. “We met recently and I was done for.” I almost say ‘she’s everything’, but a little angel on my shoulder tells me that’s probably not the proper thing to say to a room full of folks dangling your dream over your head.
Another guy pipes in, “It says here you have an arrest record?” He scowls in disdain. “Three times?” His brows climb so high that if he had a hairline, they’d be in it.
I shrug. “Misspent youth. Nothing serious, some trespassing for field parties and bar fights. Chief Gibson, Judge Myson, and I worked it out all right.”
He comes back with a harder jab, “When was the last time you punched someone?”
I grit my teeth, not liking where this is going. “A few weeks ago. Tourist got handsy with my woman when she was working at Hank’s. Broke his nose. Chief Gibson reminded him that it’s not polite, or legal, to lay hands on a woman without consent.”
See . . . I got your feminist thing right here, people. Only we call it being a fucking decent human being and not a douchebag shit stain.
Blue Blouse gasps before covering her mouth with her hand.
What the hell? That ain’t no big deal. Happens all the time at home. Well, maybe not broken noses, but a punch here and there is how we settle shit in the country.
But I can tell the tide has turned in the room. They think I’m some out of control hillbilly, and while that might be a little too close to the truth, it’s not like I’m a total asshole. I only fight when it’s the right thing to do. Or to let off steam. Or when one of the guys needs a target.
Jeremy clears his throat, and all attention shifts back to him. He’s been watching this whole show silently, leaning back in his chair and taking it all in. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ve got you a twenty-minute spot at a place we like to run new