Denim & Diamonds (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

B
eau slowed the truck when he spotted the black and white Diamond J Ranch sign swinging in the wind above the entrance to the ranch. He turned into the long, curved drive.

The whole time, he kept up a running commentary with the woman. She wasn't hurt too badly, but he still wanted to get her checked out. “With the bridge under water, we’re kinda stranded out here. But if
Charlotte thinks you need to go to the hospital, I’ll take you. Have to go about eighteen miles out of the way to go around by the blacktop.”     He glanced over and saw that her eyes were closed again, her eyelashes long and wet and dark against her fair skin. He reached across and patted her cheek. “Hey! Miss! Stay with me now!”

She twitched away from his touch and opened her eyes. She sighed and assured him, "I'm fine. It's just been a really long day and I am beat."

Rain pelted the windshield, blurring the road. The only way he was able to stay on the driveway was by watching the white fencing that flanked it. The woman stared out at the night.

He kept trying. “When I first saw you back there, you seemed fine. Just a little bump on your head. Pretty lucky for going down a steep ditch like that.”

“It does hurt a little.” She winced as she touched her forehead. "But I do not have time for this. I'm on a schedule."

In the glow of the radio, he could see her long slender fingers splayed across the seat between them. No gold band.

“Don't worry. We’re going to get you home. I’ll get Charlotte to take a look at you, then I can help you get wherever you need to go." All he could think about was getting her someplace safe, warm and dry. He didn't even know her, but something about her made him want to take care of her just like an orphaned foal.

The white fence disappeared and the headlights swept across the yard, landing on the wide front porch. He swung the truck into a

space beside the walkway. He turned to the redhead and said, "We're here."

The girl swept some loose curls behind her ear, but a ringlet dropped into her eye. He reached across and tucked her hair behind her ear, then froze, surprised at his own familiarity. Her eyes widened at his touch and he yanked his hand back. She was spookier than a new colt.

He cleared his throat and motioned towards the black Suburban parked in front of the house. “Miss Charlotte’s probably going to give me a dressing down for moving you.”

The woman shrugged and said, “It's okay. I told you I'm fine.”

The horn battled thunder when he hit it with his fist to alert Charlotte to his presence. "Let's get you inside and out of this weather.”

She nodded and grasped the handle, "I'm ready if you are."

They opened their doors and for a moment, the dome light shone on her like a spotlight. She squinted in the glare.

The massive front door swung open.
Charlotte’s short, stout figure was outlined in the doorway for a moment as she peered out. Beau jumped out of the Chevy. The woman darted towards the door, beating him to the porch.

“
Charlotte! This woman had an accident out on the blacktop!” he shouted as they dashed through the open doorway.

The housekeeper swung the door closed behind them, "Get in here. Fine day for young ducks out there!" She swept the stranger towards the bench seat. "Sit, sit. Let's take a look at you, now."

The younger woman protested, but sat. Charlotte leaned close, her hands on her knees, to examine her patient. Beau was relieved to see the cut was really just a scratch. He hurried towards the kitchen without prompting, and returned with a clean dishcloth, slightly damp with cold water in one hand and a couple of fresh towels tucked under his arm.

When he returned to the foyer,
Charlotte was standing up straight with one hand clamped over her mouth, the other perched on her hip like the handle on a teapot. She murmured, "Well, look at you."

He stopped beside her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

"Not a thing," She turned to him with wide eyes and exclaimed, "This is Elizabeth Jameson!”

Beau looked, really looked, at the woman he’d rescued. Wisps of red hair escaped from the loose ponytail at the nape of her neck and the wet tendrils stuck to her round face. Freckles dotted her nose and round cheeks. Her pink tongue poked out and licked her full lips slowly. She met his gaze and held it.

She stood and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."

He blinked, then took her hand in his. In fairness, he’d only seen her in person once, at the funeral, and she’d been dressed up then. In the photos he’d seen, she looked cold and aloof. This woman seemed, well, warm. Her radiant smile lit up the hallway, even though she was soaked to the skin. She seemed so sweet.

Then again, she
had
just whacked her head in a car wreck. Put her in a power suit, tame that hair in a severe bun and she might be one tough customer.

“You knew my father.” Her head swiveled as she took in her surroundings. "And this is the Diamond J Ranch.”

Beau handed her a big, thirsty towel and their fingers touched for just a moment, until he pulled away, breaking the tenuous connection. The woman stared at him expectantly, emerald green eyes wide and unblinking.

Charlotte
elbowed him and he unfroze. She said, "Welcome home, Elizabeth."

"Please, call me Beth." She reached up and touched her forehead. "And thank you for stopping."

"Anytime." He opened his mouth, but couldn't find any other words. That rarely happened. Especially with members of the fairer sex.

"This time o' night and a storm like this, you're lucky anyone found you."
Charlotte leaned close and looked at the woman's forehead, then nodded approvingly. “It’s cleaning up just fine. I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we can sure get you to the hospital if you want.”

Beth waved her off as she towel dried her hair, “Oh, no. It’ll be fine with a bandage and some antibiotic cream.”

Charlotte nodded, “Good idea. I’ll go and get some. Back in a flash.”

Beau stood an arm's reach from the woman. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, but she didn't seem to notice. Her gaze skated around the room, then landed on him. Those wide eyes, like the first tender shoots of green grass that promised spring, were so much more attractive on her than the old man.

Then he remembered. The old man had left the ranch to his daughter. This woman was
taking over
the ranch. His heart began to pound at the mere thought of a stranger running the Diamond J.

Charlotte
appeared from the hallway and said, “Coop called ahead and told us to expect you tonight. It was getting late and with the storm and all, I figured you decided to spend the night in Wilder before coming on out to the ranch.”

Her eyes flitted between him and Charlotte. "You have me at a disadvantage. You both know me, but . . . ”

His irritation sparked at the reminder of who she was, at the fact that she didn't know him. “I’m Beau, the ranch foreman. You would know that if you’d ever bothered to visit your father.”

Her mouth opened but she clamped her lips closed before any words were spoken.
Charlotte shot him a look, but he knew she felt the same way he did. They’d both seen the mixture of pride and hurt in John’s face when he talked about his only daughter.

Still, he regretted the words as soon as they were out. “I’m sorry. I need to get out to the barn and tend to the mare.”

He stalked out of the room, irritated at himself for not controlling his temper. It’s one thing to think it, another to say it.

At the entrance to the hallway, he turned to take another look at her. Their eyes met for a moment, then he escaped around the corner, before he could do or say anything more he might regret in front of the woman who would be his boss for the next year.

CHAPTER THREE

B
eau’s words had stung, but Beth respected the fact that he’d had the courage to speak his mind. She was also surprised to feel a pang of envy at the close relationship he shared with her father. As Beau stalked out of the room, she shivered at the memory of his strong arms supporting her as they struggled up the rain slicked ditch.

Charlotte
tucked another towel around Beth’s shoulders. Hopefully the woman would just think she was chilled.

With a deep breath, she made a concerted effort to put the cowboy out of her mind. She couldn’t afford distractions right now. Her future was at stake. She needed to focus.

It didn't help that she felt like an outsider in her father’s house. He was a stranger to her, little more than a two dimensional figure created from vague memories and stories from her mother. She looked around, curious about her father’s home, then pushed herself to her feet.

Charlotte
stayed at her side as she took a step towards the cavernous living room, and waved a hand towards the large stone fireplace. She said, “Your father was an amazin' man and we're all missin' him. You’ll have to forgive Beau. This has been a difficult time for the lot of us.”

Thunder shook the house as Beth nodded. She finally recognized the older woman's accent as a faint Irish brogue. She glanced at a huge oil painting of her father kneeling on one leg with his arm around a black and white dog that dominated the wall above the mantle. A chandelier made from antlers hung from rough-hewn beams. Definitely masculine, and not a touch of feminine anywhere. She looked down at the hardwood floors and realized that rain water was puddling at her feet.

She motioned towards the polished floor, “I’m so sorry. I seem to be getting everything wet.”

“Quite all right. It’s a gully-washer out there, that’s for sure.” The older woman led her through the living room and the arched

doorway on the left, opposite the hallway where the cowboy had disappeared. “Let’s go find you some dry clothes and a warm bed. Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Charlotte. Technically, I’m the housekeeper, but I do a little bit of everything. We’re pretty informal around here. I cook, I clean. Whatever needs to be done, I do it.”

Beth glanced up at her father’s portrait, looking for something – anything – familiar.
 “You must have known my father well, then.”

Beth meant it as a statement, but
Charlotte took it as a question. “I did, and I wish to extend my deepest sympathies to you. Your father was a wonderful man, and he will be – I take that back – he
is
missed deeply. I apologize for not extendin' my sympathies to you at the funeral. You seemed overwhelmed. Didn’t think you needed to be bothered with an old woman like me.” Charlotte stopped in the third doorway on their left.

“You came to the funeral?” Beth asked, wondering what else she had missed that day. It had been such a blur. Such a shock. The whole thing had been so strange. Had that really been only a month ago?
 

“Beau and I both did. Your father was like family,”
Charlotte motioned for Beth to enter the room first. “You’ve had a long day, so I won’t keep you. You’ll find everything here that you’ll need. Help yourself to anything in the drawers and the closet. Towels are in the linen closet. Extra things like toothpaste and shampoo are under the sink.”

Beth bristled at the family comment. Her father had abandoned her, left her with a bitter woman while he moved here to this beautiful home. She swallowed her anger and looked around. The bedroom was more of a suite, with a sitting area by the bay window. It was larger than most hotel rooms she had stayed in, much larger than the bedroom in her condo in
Overland Park. Her gaze settled on the beautiful wrought iron canopy bed that dominated the room.

“Breakfast is at seven. Hope you like bacon, eggs and flapjacks,”
Charlotte said as she turned to leave.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” Beth knew she’d be missing her usual grande caramel macchiato from Starbucks in the morning. There wouldn’t be any more of those for a while.

A warm smile spread across the older woman’s broad face. “You may want to eat a big breakfast while you’re here. Beau’ll show you around the ranch tomorrow. You’ll be needin’ your strength to keep up with him!”

Charlotte
frowned as her gaze settled on the bandage on Beth’s forehead, “That is, if you feel up to it.”

“I’m sure I‘ll be fine.” Beth touched her forehead self-consciously, smoothed the edges of the bandage and wondered how bad she looked. Warmth spread up her cheeks as she thought of spending a day with the cowboy. He certainly would be a change of pace from Quinn. Her heart raced at the thought of being alone with him. “So, Beau is the ranch manager?”

“Yes. He is –
was
– pretty much your father’s right hand man. That boy can do anything from gentle a young horse to  . . . ”

The memory of Beau’s hand on hers caused her heart to do a little flip. His strong fingers had cupped her elbow reassuringly. He was chivalrous and polite, something she had been missing in her life for years. Most of them would never have stopped to help someone on a deserted road. She had a sudden mental image of Chris Pine in that movie she'd seen with Quinn.
That’s
who Beau reminded her of . . . Chris Pine. Oh, those eyes!

She sighed, then shook her head. That bump to her head must have been worse than she thought. Either that, or the whole episode with her fiance –
ex-fiance
, she reminded herself – had gotten to her more than she wanted to admit.

Charlotte
cleared her throat and her thick gray eyebrows crept up towards her halo of gray hair. Beth nodded and smiled uneasily as she realized that she hadn’t been listening to the older woman.  

Charlotte
voice softened, “Now you just holler if you need anything, I am in the room just kitty-cornered across the hallway.”