Denim & Diamonds (5 page)

Beau leaned out and looked down at her shoes. It was clear from his expression that he thought heels had no place on a ranch. She glanced down at them, suddenly self-conscious.

Without preamble, she started her speech, which she had rehearsed over and over in her mind since the moment she learned of the terms of her father’s will. “My father left the ranch to me, his only surviving child. There is a provision that the ranch must be profitable for the next year, and I will do everything in my power to earn the trust he placed in me.”

She paused to look around the room, to make eye contact with each individual. “No one’s job is in danger. I will do my best to be a fair and impartial employer. In return, I trust that each of you will do your job well, just as you did while you worked for my father.”

After she finished, Beau cleared his throat.

“Miss Jameson, we’ve all worked for your father a long time. Your father treated us well, and we would do anything for him. We’re all determined to keep the Diamond J Ranch in the
family
,” he stressed the last word, then paused and looked around the room, “I think I speak for all of us.”

His suggestion brought a murmur of agreement from the ranch hands. She saw the fear and distrust in everyone’s eyes. They didn’t know her. In her head, she expected that. In her heart, it hurt.

“But it’s my understanding, from what your daddy told me,” the ranch manager continued in his slow drawl, “That you’re a city girl. So, we hope you don’t go changing things too much around here. No offense intended, but--”

“None taken,” she cut him off as she felt the rush of blood in her cheeks. He was acting like a hostile witness in a trial, and she knew just how to handle that. Take the spotlight away. “That's all for now. My door is always open. Thank you all.”

Silence hung over the room until Charlotte broke the spell by getting dinner on the table. Pots and pans clanked loudly and chairs scooted across the floor, covering the soft buzz of conversation. She

stood against the wall, feeling conspicuous and overlooked at the same time.

Charlotte set a big basket of cornbread muffins on the table and said, "Miss Jameson, why don't you take the seat at the foot of the table?"

Conversation stopped, all eyes turned towards her and she felt her cheeks to brighten.

Beau, at the head of the table, raised one eyebrow and watched her. With a smile, she declined, "That's quite all right. Isn't that usually where you sit, Charlotte?"

Charlotte
nodded. Beau kicked out the chair to his right with one booted foot and nodded towards it. Beth sat and nodded to the ranch hand already seated next to her, a tanned man with unruly brown hair and bright blue eyes, who introduced himself as Aidan. The housekeeper sat at the foot of the table, and Beth caught a knowing look exchanged between Charlotte and Beau. Their look reminded her of the cliques of middle school, and once again, she felt like the odd one out.

Food was passed, and talk turned to the events of the day. Words like “bits” and “frogs” swirled around her with little meaning, and she found herself looking forward to returning to the privacy of her bedroom. She clenched her fork in her fist and smiled, determined to make the best of the situation she’d been thrown into.

CHAPTER SIX

B
eth snuggled back down into the soothing scent of lavender, then remembered where she was. She slid off the bed, the sheepskin rug warm and comforting under her bare feet.

She swept the lace drapes to the side and saw the sky beginning to turn shades of pink, purple, and orange. She checked the closet and found a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans she thought would fit. Before long, she would need to go shopping. The clothes she had packed weren’t what she needed out on the ranch and she didn't want to depend on the clothes in the guest room. Who knows how many mistresses had used those same clothes?

On impulse, Beth pulled her Keds on and headed down the hallway without freshening up. She’d never seen a sunrise in the country before. Come to think of it, she’d never seen a sunrise at all. Not on purpose or for pleasure, anyway. And no one was up, so she could let her hair down and relax. It was so peaceful, and she couldn’t help but feel more positive about this new venture than she had the night before.

Once on the front porch, she breathed in the fresh, crisp air. She heard a meow and looked down to see a fluffy gray tabby cat sitting at the bottom of the steps staring at her. When she reached the bottom step, she knelt down but the cat hopped away.

“My goodness, kitty. You’ve only got three legs!” She stepped toward the dark feline, but it dodged her then sat. It watched her with unblinking yellow eyes as she approached again, then stood and stretched before walking away. The two crossed the yard and drive, playing this game of cat and mouse. The creature slipped under the white wooden fence and into the pasture.

Beth felt a strange attraction to the animal and finally opened the gate, after fiddling with it a moment to figure the latch out. A meow beckoned her forward. Beth glanced around, but she and the cat seemed to be completely alone.

The cat darted through the lush green grass toward a stand of pin oak trees, and she followed. Water flowed and bubbled just ahead. At the edge of the trees, a stream meandered. The peaceful setting looked like something out of a movie. The gray cat perched on a rock at the top of a little waterfall, grooming itself. Beth knelt down at the edge of the stream, and began talking softly to the feline. The brook babbled and the rays of the sun shone down through the trees.

A shout shattered the calm, “Damn it! Hey! I need help NOW!”

She sprang to her feet at the sound of Beau’s voice. The feline continued to clean its whiskers, oblivious to the yelling. Beth decided the cat would be fine on its own, and hurried back, retracing her steps. Her heart sank when she cleared the trees.

Beau stood in the driveway, waving his arms at two horses attempting to run down the drive toward the highway. A third horse grazed calmly on the lush green grass in the front yard.

And the gate she had gone through stood wide open.

Two men ran from the small cabin, and another hurried from the barn, halters and leads in both hands. Beth squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and cursed herself for being so stupid, then jogged towards the gate, hoping to salvage the situation by helping. Beau spotted her. The anger flashing in his eyes was hard to mistake.

“You!” he yelled as he waved her away, “Get the hell away from that gate! We’re trying to get them in, not scare them away!”

“Where do you want me?” she yelled back, fighting to keep her voice from cracking. “What can I do?”

“Over here!” The skinny guy motioned for Beth to follow her along the fence. He had two halters, one thrown over his shoulder. He tossed the other to Beth, who caught the tangle of leather, not having any idea which side was up. Beth stayed close to the man, who looked like he knew what he was doing even if though he was obviously younger than her. His intense gaze focused on the animals in front of him. He crept sideways, his back to the fence. Beth followed suit. The two horses in the driveway watched Beau, who spoke to them in a low,

soothing voice. His tone was soft, so unlike how he had spoken to her only moments before.

The skinny ranch hand held the halter loosely in his right hand, with the cotton lead rope thrown over his shoulder. His steps were sure and confident as he approached the smaller of the two escapees. The gray horse saw the human approaching, nodded its head and pawed the ground. A white crescent showed around its eyes, and muscles rippled under its shiny coat. The man talked softly to the horse, and approached the animal with confidence. When he was beside the creature, he pulled the halter over its head. Once caught, the horse stood patiently, waiting to be led.

The big brown horse watched, his ears pricked forward. He seemed calm enough, so Beth made her move.

She imitated the ranch hand, and walked toward the animal, talking to him all the while. "Hey, there, boy. You're a pretty boy, aren't you? You just stay right there and help me make this all better. Everybody's watching, so take it easy on me."

He let her get right up to him, but she hesitated, unsure how to hold the tangle of leather. She glanced at the big gray the skinny guy was holding, and thought she could manage. Straps over the forehead and the nose. It didn’t look that hard. She lifted her hands to put the halter over the horse's head, but he ducked and spun away.

Beau snatched the halter from her and threw his arm over the horse’s neck in one fluid motion, tugging the halter over the horse’s nose and buckling it in seconds. The cowboy glared at her and blew his breath out in a huff, his jaw muscles working furiously.

“You don’t ever, ever go through a gate and leave it open,” he growled in a low, dangerous voice, “Do you understand me?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t know.” Tears stung her eyes, and she bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Nothing made her angrier than tears, particularly her own.

“Well, now you know.” Beau tossed over his shoulder as he and the other ranch hand led the horses back to the gate. He stopped and stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Maybe if you’d spent a little time

here when your daddy was alive, you’d know a thing or two about living on a ranch.”

Before Beth could respond, he stalked away. The other two men already had the horse from the yard back in the pasture and stood waiting at the gate to help get the other two horses in. She gathered every ounce of self esteem she had and forced herself to walk up the drive, eyes straight ahead. The four ranch employees watched her from the gate. The stocky ranch hand with a shock of thick dark hair spit tobacco juice on the ground just as she reached them.

She turned to face the four, her own jaw set now. "I made a mistake, but I am still your boss." She kept her gaze steady until they looked away, then she marched towards the house. One mistake would not set the tone for the coming year.

CHAPTER SEVEN

B
eth hid in her father’s library the rest of the morning, jotting notes, sketching dream plans for the ranch, and licking her wounded pride. She wasn’t used to failure, and she hated making mistakes. Particularly mistakes as ignorant as leaving the gate to the horse pasture open. Even worse, her employees had a front row seat for her screw up. Dealing with people in general was difficult, more so when they don't think you're competent.

She sighed. That was why she liked being a transactional lawyer. She sat in her neat, organized office and dealt with research and words. With the law, you could check your work and know it was right. If you make a mistake, money can fix it.

Beau had looked at her as if she were the stupidest person on the face of the earth. The contempt in his eyes cut her to the core. He carried himself in a confident manner, and for good reason. Her father had trusted him completely, and she hoped she could eventually earn Beau's trust. Earning his trust would be the next best thing to earning her father's.

The memory of him finding her after the accident kept flitting through her mind, how safe she felt with him, how comfortable she felt with him, the strength in his arms as he lifted her into the truck . . .

She jumped when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said. Before she looked up from her sketches, she smelled the beef stew and fresh sourdough bread.
Charlotte set the serving tray on the desk and motioned toward the leather guest chair.

“Mind if I sit?”
Charlotte asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Please do. And thank you. I was starting to get a little hungry.” She eyed the older woman, curious as to the intent of this visit. Perhaps the woman was sucking up to the new boss. Maybe she was scoping out the competition. Then again, maybe she wanted to chastise her for the morning screw-up.

“Go ahead and eat, child. I’ll stay and talk, if you don’t mind.” Charlotte pushed the tray across the desk with strong, tanned hands, then sat back in the chair. Beth scooped a spoonful of stew up and took a bite, not surprised to find it was delicious. Chunks of potatoes swam in the spicy stew. She closed her eyes and savored the flavors.

She couldn't even remember the last time she’d had anything close to home cooked food. Even when she’d lived with her mother, most meals had been quick and ready-to-eat or they’d gone out. Then she and Quinn had practically lived together, but they both worked long hours, so they usually had take-out.

Charlotte cleared her throat, and Beth snapped back to the present. She opened her eyes.

“You had a tough go of it this morning.”

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but Charlotte held up her hand, “Let me finish, child. Seems to me that you came in here wantin' t'make a good impression on everybody, and to make sure that everybody knows what the peckin’ order is.”

“First impressions are so very important,” Beth said as she cupped her chin in her hand and sighed.

“They are. Which is why I’m suggestin’ that you back off a little. You’re like a hen on a hot griddle, just like your father. Can't wait for nothing. Well, sometimes it’s better to hang back a little and look around before you start in.”

“You don’t think I’ve got what it takes, do you?” Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the older woman’s reaction. At first, she'd though
Charlotte was simply a housekeeper, kindly and warm, but still, just a housekeeper. And with that country way she had, she came off as a bit of a hick, but the gray-haired woman sitting in front of her was much more than that.

Charlotte
shook her head, “Didn’t say that."

Tendrils of gray hair escaped the loose bun at the crown of her head, and softened her angular face. Fine lines around her mouth and crow’s feet at her hazel eyes hinted at years of experience.
 

Beth cocked her head to the side, “You didn’t have to.”