Denim & Diamonds (18 page)

contact and unwilling to please them. Even though she was afraid the man would be on the losing end of this confrontation, she just couldn’t tear herself away from the window.

The stallion stopped again and pawed the ground as he flipped his tail. He watched, his head lowered, as the cowboy approached. The horse stopped pawing and stood still. His muscles quivered under his scarred coat. He seemed to consider the man in front of him, sizing him up.

Beau inched forward, lips still moving, eyes focused on the animal. He was within an arm’s length. He stretched his hand out towards the horse’s muzzle, palm down. The horse’s nostrils flared as he smelled the human’s hand.

Suddenly, the stallion let out an unearthly scream and reared up, then lashed out at the man with his hooves. Beau flew backward from the impact, and landed with a thud on his rear end. He hit the ground hard. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed from side to side, oblivious to the deadly hooves that hovered above him. Time seemed to stand still. Beth held her breath.

The horse dropped his front hooves to the ground, then spun and galloped away. Beau sat in the dirt and held his shoulder where the stallion’s hoof had grazed him. Cole and Joe jumped into action. They ran across the pen, screaming like banshees. The horse’s eyes opened wide and rolled, showing a white crescent, but he maintained the greatest distance possible between himself and the loud humans.

Beth reached the door just as Charlotte yanked it open and ran out. Katie met them on the side porch and the three raced around the truck. They stopped by the gate and stood shoulder to shoulder, holding their breath. Katie and Beth wrapped their hands around the top rail. Charlotte grasped their arms and squeezed.

When the guys reached Beau, they helped him to his feet and steered him towards the walk-through gate, in spite of his objections. They glanced over their shoulders ever few steps to make sure the wild stallion kept his distance. Once they were through the gate, Beau collapsed against the trailer. His breath was ragged and a dark stain spread across his cotton shirt. His legs shook like Jell-O and he slid

down to sit on the running board. Joe and Cole were on either side to support him. They shared a look, and Joe shivered. Aidan squatted in front of him to examine the injury.

“Do you realize how close that hoof came to your head, man?” Joe whispered. He looked as though his own legs might be feeling a little like Jell-O.

Charlotte released her grip on Beth and Katie and issued orders. “Joe, go get the keys to the Suburban and pull it over here. Cole, go to the office in the barn and get the first aid kit. Katie, go get me a wet washcloth. Aidan, you hold him steady.”

Charlotte
lifted the shirt away from Beau’s shoulder and exposed an angry gash about four inches long and deep. Blood seeped from the wound, but it didn't appear to be life-threatening.

Beth leaned forward and looked, but pulled back when she saw the raw, exposed flesh. Blood didn’t usually bother her. She had seen photos in case files when she worked for the D.A.’s office that would make the average person cringe, but she could blow them up into trial exhibits and exploit them to sway a jury with no problem. This was different, though.

She blinked back tears and swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't want him to see how scared she was. If anything were to happen to him –

“It’s just a scratch,” he said, but his voice was weak.

“What’s the problem?” Lana appeared out of nowhere, hovering around the edge of the group huddled around Beau. “What happened? Let me help.”

Beau frowned when he heard Lana’s voice and he whispered through clenched teeth, “Get her the hell out of here.”

The small group closed in around Beau, and ignored his aunt.

“What can I do?” Beth asked. Before
Charlotte could answer, Joe pulled up in the Suburban, wheels sliding in the loose gravel. Katie ran from the barn with a wadded up cloth and a small white plastic case marked with a big red cross on the front. Charlotte held the back door open while Joe and Aidan helped the protesting Beau into the back seat. Beth ran around to the passenger side and jumped into the back to help

ease him in. Beau scooted into the center, and
Charlotte climbed in after him. Katie jumped onto the running board and leaned in the window. Her eyes met Beth's and she pleaded, "Please, take care of him."

Beth nodded, then turned her attention back to Beau.

Cole threw it in gear and stepped on the gas as soon as the doors slammed shut. Aidan and Joe shouted a promise to keep an eye on the stallion, and Charlotte promised to call them from the hospital.

Through it all, Beau continued to protest, but no one listened.

Charlotte had Beth hold Beau’s shirt out of the way and she cleaned the wound as Cole raced down the blacktop. Charlotte and Beth kept pressure on the wound with gauze pads from the first aid kit. The twenty minute drive to the hospital in Wilder seemed to take forever.

The hospital was small and many of the nurses knew Beau. Beth wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing at first, but he seemed to get treatment fast enough. The trio waited in the waiting area until a well-endowed blonde nurse wheeled Beau out in a wheelchair. He was bandaged and a little pale, but grinning like a maniac. The pain pills had kicked in. Beth sagged with relief.

Now that he was okay, she wanted to kill him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

O
nce they returned to the ranch, Charlotte and Beth convinced Beau to stay in the main house for a few days to allow his shoulder time to heal. He didn't want to, but the drugs made it difficult to argue. Everything seemed soft and fuzzy.

Joe and Cole helped him into the house, one on each side, then got him into the bed in the guest bedroom that Katie usually stayed in. Beth’s hands were strong and gentle as she helped him lay back. He settled into the bed with a groan, looked around at the pile of pillows and frowned.

“This ain’t no room for a real man,” he groused. A blush crept up his cheeks. He hated feeling weak. It was embarrassing to have her see him like this.

Beth said, "It'll work just fine. You need to take care of yourself, and I intend to make sure my foreman gets back to work."

Charlotte chimed in, "Your doctor explained how bad the long-term effects could be if you don't take care of yourself."

“Looks better than that hole you call a bedroom, man,” Joe answered with a snort. “And at least this room is blue. You could be stuck in the pink bedroom right next door.”

Beth’s head jerked up at the mention of her bedroom, and Beau’s eyes widened. They looked at each other, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was -- sleeping right next door.

She nudged him and smiled as she helped arrange the pillows to make him as comfortable as possible, careful not to touch his bandaged shoulder. He smiled back, but could feel his ears burning red with embarrassment.

Charlotte produced a small silver bell. She set it on the oak night stand. "You just ring this anytime you need anything. Anything at all."

He rolled his eyes, but she lowered her chin and looked over her glasses at him. He grinned and nodded, then held up his hands in mock surrender. "Ok, ok. Whatever you say."

Once he convinced her he didn’t need anything else, she herded everyone out of the room and left him to rest. He was already groggy from the pain meds, and felt his eyelids droop. The last thing he remembered seeing was Beth, framed in the doorway.

She blew him a kiss.

When he awoke several hours later, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and for him to realize that the blue room he was in was not a dream. He blinked and started to stretch, until the sudden pain in his shoulder froze him. He slowly lowered his arm, groaning as he did so.

“Hurts pretty bad, huh?”

Beau glanced over and saw Beth in the low-backed chair by the window, her feet tucked under her. Her curls framed her face, and she looked as though she had been resting, too.

“A little,” he said, his voice strained.

“It’s time for more drugs,” she said. She tipped two caplets out of a medicine bottle and handed them to him, then offered a glass of water. She watched as he took the pills from her and examined them. After a moment, he shrugged with his good shoulder and tossed them in his mouth. He threw back a drink of water and handed the glass back.

“Thanks,” he said. He looked his boss up and down, “Been here long?”

“Long enough to hear you snore.” She caught his gaze and stared at him. Her green eyes bored into his. “Do you realize how lucky you are? That horse could have killed you.”

“But he didn’t.” He broke the stare and looked around the room. “I never realized the old man had such a flair for decorating.”

“Very funny.” Her voice was tense, her words clipped. She unfolded her legs and rose. “I’m getting rid of that horse. You could have been killed today. It's too risky.”

Beau struggled to lift himself up with his good arm, “The mustang is mine, not yours. You leave him right where he is. I'll decide what to do with him.”

She moved towards the door, her green eyes flashing, “I won't have a dangerous animal on this ranch.”

His heart pounded in his chest. “You worked up because I ignored your wishes, or because I got hurt?"

"Both," she snapped. She turned her back to him and walked across the room. “Oh, by the way, Cole said your girlfriend called. She wants you to call her when you’re feeling up to it.”

She stalked out the door, slamming it behind her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

B
eth had grown to love early morning rides, and went to the barn to saddle Dingo up after she saw Beau leave with Aidan. There was something so peaceful about being out when it was cool, just her and her horse. After her blow up with Beau a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t slept well and hadn’t spent as much time in the barn as she had before the mustang arrived.

Just as she thought he would, Beau ignored the doctor’s orders and returned to light duty around the barn just a day after his injury. She warned the boys not to let Beau lift anything when they went to town to get feed, and hoped they were smart enough to listen.

She pulled the bridle over Dingo’s head and dropped the halter just as Charlotte appeared in the doorway. Beth nodded as the older woman walked towards her.

Charlotte
stopped and leaned against the wall. “You and Beau talked yet?”

“No.” The horse bumped her arm with his nose. She and Beau had avoided each other all week. Meals had been awkward. He had moved out of the house after just two nights.

“You two are a lot alike, both stubborn as a danged bull.”

Beth shrugged.
Charlotte was right. She was stubborn and so was he, but the fact was, she was the boss. The horse in the next stall nickered and Dingo sidestepped, anxious to go. She knew how he felt. She sometimes felt that same need to move, to get away. She couldn’t help the way she felt, couldn’t stand the thought of Beau getting hurt. He’d been lucky he hadn’t been hurt worse. Her chin jutted forward. “That mustang needs to go.”

The older woman smiled, her gray eyes kind. “I know you’re worried about him. But Beau’s a big boy, and he’s proud. He’s got to prove to you that buying the mustang was a smart move.”

Beth frowned and picked some hay out of Dingo’s mane. “He doesn’t have to prove anything.”

Charlotte
pushed away from the wall and leaned in close. “Yes, he does. Your daddy would’ve let him work through this in his own way, in his own time.”

Though she didn’t want to admit it, he did seem to be making progress with the mustang. Katie reported that he had the horse halter trained and was able to groom him already. No one else was able to get close to the animal. The gelding nudged her and her shoulders dropped. “Fine. He can keep the mustang. But the next time that animal sends anyone to the hospital, it's going.”

"That sounds reasonable." The older woman smiled and turned to walk out with Beth and Dingo, then held the horse while Beth mounted up. “Enjoy your ride.”

Beth clucked and urged Dingo forward, then sighed, determined to think about something other than the differences of opinion that caused her so much angst. Fresh air seemed to be just what the doctor ordered for her to clear her mind and gain some perspective.

Riding allowed her to focus on something other than the ranch foreman that tested her limits, and she thought she was doing pretty good for her first solo ride. She reached down and rubbed Dingo’s neck.

She had grown attached to the gelding – he seemed to sense what she wanted to do before she knew she wanted to do it. It was like power steering on horseback. This morning, Aidan had pointed out the easy path that followed the creek that ran through the ranch.

Cosby Creek, Aidan called it. The water gurgled along through the rocks, and the dirt path that ran beside it was wide and even. Beth enjoyed the muscular feel of the horse beneath her, and the creak of the leather. She closed her eyes and soaked in the warmth of the mid-morning sun, letting the horse pick his way along the path.

Just a few months ago, she had been a corporate dragon lady, at work early every morning and late every night. She lived in a concrete jungle, high stress and on the go constantly. Now her life consisted of horses, dogs, pedigrees and fencing. She breathed in the fresh air, sure that nothing smelled better than grass and horses. She had ridden for