Authors: Lori Robinett
“I do believe the ol' boy is telling you he likes you,” he observed. “Now you need to get the comb and work on his mane and tail.”
Beth did as she was instructed, until the horse’s black mane and tail were tangle free and glistening. She stood back and admired her handiwork.
“He really is a beautiful horse,” she said. Her head tilted to one side. Pride welled up inside of her.
“He is. Horses are beautiful animals,” Beau said. He pulled his hat down lower, but she thought she detected a flicker of interest in them. He cleared his throat and said, “You’re through with the easy part. Now, do you remember how to clean his hooves?”
“No, I’m sorry. I know I've seen it done, but I'm not sure.” Beth’s face flushed – there was little she hated more than admitting that she didn’t know something.
“Then you’d best pay attention today, Boss.” He talked as he worked, explaining what he was doing and, more importantly, why he was doing it. In short order, he’d cleaned both the front and back hooves on Dingo’s left side. He handed the hoof pick to her and said, “Your turn.”
She completed the task without incident, thankful that Dingo was so obliging and picked his feet up easily when she squeezed his lower leg. When she finished, she patted the horse on the shoulder and whispered to him.
“What was that you said?” Beau asked. He put his hand to his ear like an old person, which made her smile.
“Wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Dingo.” She turned around and planted a kiss on the horse’s nose. The horse stretched out his neck and curled his lip up, showing his teeth. A large grin spread across Beau’s face and their eyes met. She could sink into those eyes, crystal clear.
His smile froze and he looked stiff and uncomfortable. He turned and strode across the aisle to the small tack room where he
grabbed Dingo’s saddle and bridle. While she watched, he saddled the horse and slipped the bridle over his head.
“Dingo’s ready now. Take the halter off his neck, grab the reins and let’s head for the arena,” Beau said. He turned and walked off, and she was left to follow. Beau opened the gate, let her lead the horse through, then he closed the gate with a clank. She watched as he walked to the far wall and flipped a switch. Dingo’s ears swiveled forward as Frank Sinatra began crooning over the loudspeaker.
“Sinatra fan, huh?” she asked, a smile dancing on her lips.
“Not me. The horse,” Beau answered as he walked towards Dingo, who did appear to be enjoying the sounds emanating from the speakers on each corner of the small arena. He grasped the side strap on the bridle, and his hand brushed against hers. They were standing within inches of each other. They were doing a dance, but she didn’t know the steps.
“Now, mount up like I showed you last time.”
Beth took a couple of hops, then pushed up and swung her leg over in a jerky motion. Beau showed her how to hold the reins properly, his hands over hers, then grasped her left leg to position it. His fingers lingered on her leg a moment, caressing her. She held her breath until he dropped his hand.
She had been doing yoga for years, and knew her legs were firm and well-muscled, and that her jeans fit her like a glove. She watched him as he walked away, looking at the faded denim molded to his body. Doing ranch work was as good a workout as any gym.
He stood in the center of the small arena. "Squeeze your legs together and drop your hands. I want you to walk Dingo clockwise around the edge of the arena."
The horse’s hooves kicked up tiny clouds of dust with each step. Beth’s body was fluid, moving with each step of the horse. It felt good. It felt natural, her left hand resting on her thigh, her right hand holding the reins just in front of her belt buckle, her heels down.
“You’re doing fine. Now squeeze your legs together,” Oh, what a mental image that inspired! She grinned as she squeezed her knees against the saddle. Beau continued, “You’re going to take him into
a trot now. I want you to think of yourself as a sack of potatoes. Just let him get into a soft jog. You’ll feel the rhythm. Just go with it.”
Beth bounced around in the saddle. Her insides jiggled like Jell-O and her tailbone protested with every stride. Sack of potatoes, sack of potatoes. She loosened her legs a bit, and the horse settled into a smooth, slow jog. She bounced in time to his movements, and it was like dancing – he led and she followed. She caught herself singing along with Old Blue Eyes and enjoying the motion, the energy of riding.
“You’re doing great. Squeeze your legs just a little more and move him into a canter.”
“A what?”
“Like running, but slower,” Beau answered.
“I don’t want to run.” Beth said. She wiped her hand on her jeans and readjusted her grip on the reins.
“You can do it. Just one time around, then pull back slightly on the reins and he’ll slow back down. This is Dingo we’re talking about here. He’s not going to go any faster than he has to."
Beth squeezed her knees together, pretending she was holding an egg between them. The gelding's ears swiveled back and then forward again, and he began to canter.
Beau called out to her, "Hold onto the saddle horn with your left hand and raise up slightly in your seat, if it makes you feel better. Just a little, though. Your butt should barely be connecting with the seat.”
The horse's movements were smooth, much to her surprise, and the rocking motion was almost soothing. A grin split her face, and her heart filled with delight. She’d never felt like this before. The wind blew her hair back, and she could feel the horse’s muscles working under her.
She felt free. And just a little out of control, which was kind of fun.
“OK. Ease up and pull back a little.” Beau urged from the center.
She stole a glance at him and was surprised to see a big smile on his face, too. His hat was pushed back and she could see that the
smile had even reached his blue eyes. She turned her attention back to the horse, released the tension on her knees and lowered her hand a touch. He dropped into an easy jog, and his ears swiveled as he listened to her tell him how wonderful he was.
After once around the arena, Beau asked her to slow him to a walk, then he took Beth and Dingo through some exercises, teaching her how to back the horse in a straight line and even do a rollback, which was easily the most fun thing she’d ever done.
Her father would’ve been proud of her, but there was a touch of sadness, too – if only she had come out here while he was alive. If only she’d taken the time, and been a little more forgiving instead of so damned bull headed.
After the lesson was over, she dismounted, then turned to Beau and whispered, “Thank you.”
He touched her cheek with one finger to wipe away a bit of dust. His eyes were soft and warm, drinking her in. “That smile on your face is thanks enough.”
They were inches apart. He smelled so good, clean and fresh. No cologne, just him. He stared at her as if she was the only person in the world. Everything else dissolved into the background and she felt a warmth that she hadn’t felt in a long time, an ache for what could be. He tipped her chin up and kissed her, his lips soft against hers. Her mind raced. She wanted him, but did he really want her? Or was he using her to get the ranch?
Katie hollered a greeting from the barn door. "Hello? Anybody out here?"
Beau stepped back as Beth spun away to face her horse. She'd forgotten it was Friday, and hadn't been expecting the interruption. Days on the ranch ran together, week days into weekends. Beth shivered and closed her eyes, knowing that she would not be able to think about anything but Beau for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
B
eau rubbed his tired, aching eyes and rolled his head from side to side. There was something about riding alone, just him and his horse. It was a mindless job – you ride, watch the fence for things amiss and fix what needs fixing. And after spending the morning with Beth, he needed time alone to clear his mind. It had taken him all afternoon and his muscles ached, but he felt good.
As he rounded a clump of scrubby trees, he pulled Digger to a full stop. He set his jaw and gritted his teeth at the sight of the Sheriff’s car in the driveway, parked right beside Aunt Lana’s distinctive semi. The last thing he wanted was the authorities around her. Worries jockeyed for attention as he urged his horse forward at a gallop toward the main house.
He hoped he wasn’t too late to stop whatever had been set in motion.
Katie met Beau at the hitching post. She was holding one hand up, shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun. She'd been waiting for him. Beau pulled Digger to a sliding halt a few feet in front of her, then swung out of the saddle while the horse danced sideways.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as his eyes swept over Katie, noting her narrowed eyes and thinned lips.
“Don’t know. Nobody’s telling us nothing. Sheriff pulled in here about a half hour ago. Beth met him and they went inside. Cole went in to get a glass of tea and he said the boss and the Sheriff are sitting in the library with the door shut.” The words came tumbling out like rocks down a hill.
Beau frowned and tossed the reins to the girl, “I’m going up to the house. Take care of Digger for me, will ya?”
“You got it,” Katie answered. "And Beau?"
He turned to look at her. "Keep me posted, will you?"
Beau strode up to the house, looking more confident than he felt. He was trying to think tough, get himself geared up to face the Sheriff. He certainly wasn’t
feeling
tough – he felt as through his world
was a house of cards and a giant hand was about to flick a finger and knock one of the base cards out.
Charlotte met him at the kitchen door. Her face was drawn and tight. “They’re in the library. Door’s been shut the whole time. I took a tray of tea into them and heard Van say something about the rustlers!”
A dark storm clouded his face as he stalked down the hallway. He tossed over his shoulder, “They should’ve waited for me. I’m still the damned ranch foreman around here.”
He burst into the library and found his old friend and his new boss seated in the leather wingback chairs, facing the fireplace. They both turned to face him, eyebrows raised. He paused, caught off guard by the casual atmosphere – they looked like two old friends enjoying afternoon tea.
“Can I help you?” Beth arched her left eyebrow. Van took a sip of iced tea and nodded a hello to Beau.
“I just -- I mean--" Beau took a deep breath and willed his heart to stop pounding so hard, then let out a puff of air. “What is going on?”
“Ms. Jameson here was telling me about her plans for the ranch,” the Sheriff answered. He gave a little laugh, “Just between you and me, your boss is a go-getter, as ambitious as her daddy thought she was.”
Her cheeks grew pink, and she cast her eyes downward. He nodded his agreement, but the smile pasted on his face felt stiff. "Yes, she is certainly ambitious." He pulled the hat from his head and ran his arm across his forehead before the sweat could trickle into his eyes.
Van tilted his head towards Beth and said, "Seriously, Beth, your daddy did the right thing by leaving you this place."
“Thank you, Sheriff," Beth tilted her chin up. "But it's not mine yet. My father issued a challenge and I could never walk away from a challenge.”
Van said, “Guess that’s how you got to be partner at that big law firm in
Kansas City.”
Her face lit up at the mention of
Kansas City, probably remembering the life she had left behind. The unspoken question hung in the air. If she won the challenge, would she return to Kansas City? And then what would happen to the Diamond J? What would happen to him?
"Anyway, I'm getting off track here." The smile faded from Van’s face, “We have a problem in these parts. Ranchers all around these parts have had stock stolen and two of your neighbors have had cattle come up missing. You had any problems here?”
“No, sir. But I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I hear or see anything unusual.” Beau stepped forward, his hat clutched in both hands in front of him.
Van lifted his cup to take another sip, then paused. His eyes shifted from Beth to Beau. “Odd that everyone around you is having problems. Think it could be one of your hands involved?”
Beth answered. “Oh, Sheriff, I can’t believe that anyone here would be involved.”
“Perhaps you don’t know them well enough to say one way or the other." He turned to Beau, "How about you?”
“Van, you know these people here are like family. I know them all well. Nobody who works here would be involved in cattle rustling.” Beau settled his hat back on his head and tugged the brim down.
“Keep a close eye on things. Wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize Ms. Jameson’s chances at getting her bequest, would we?” The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Anything wrong, Beau? You got sweat just a’pouring off of you.”
“Was just comin' back from riding fence when I saw your car and thought it was bad news,” he said, backing towards the door. “I’d better get back to the barn and finish my chores. Digger needs to be cooled down.”