Denim & Diamonds

by Robinett, Lori

  She closed the album with a thud and started to rise, but just didn’t have the energy. She felt wrung out and was tired of being in boss-mode all the time. She dropped back into the chair, lowering her defenses.

  She caressed the album, tracing the design on the front with her index finger. “Did you know my father kept a scrapbook about me?”

  “Yes, I did,” Beau said, taking another step into the room. He ducked his head and caught her gaze. “You found it.”

  “Sit down for a second and let me show you something,” she patted the chair cushion next to her and sniffled.

  Beau sat on the arm of the chair. Beth opened up to him, let him see the real her. “My parents separated when I was very young. All my life, I thought my father wanted nothing to do with me. My mother told me he had abandoned us, that he was busy with his mistresses and didn’t have time for me anymore.”

  Beau reached out and caressed her shoulder, “That must’ve been awful.”

  She smiled up at him, “I shouldn’t be complaining to you about this. You lost your parents so tragically.”

  He shrugged, “Yeah, but I was young. You just lost yours.”

  She released a shuddering breath. “But I screwed up. My father just died. He was right here and I had nothing to do with him.” Her life story poured out of her uncontrollably, as if she had turned on a faucet full blast and couldn’t turn it off.

  He listened as she told him how she had discovered the unopened cards and the scrapbook in the storage compartment of the window seat. As the words spilled forth, so did the tears.

  “So, my life has been a lie, and now there’s no way I can ever make it up to him. He’s gone, and I never even got a chance to get to know him,” Beth finished, sniffling and sucking in air. He slid off the arm of the big chair and put his arm around her shoulders and held her while she leaned into him and cried.

  The two sat like that until her sobs subsided into hiccups. She pulled herself up straight, dabbed her eyes with a tissue and ran a hand over her hair.

  “You must think I’m a blubbering idiot,” she said, head down.

  “No.” He pushed himself to his feet and plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand. He handed it to her and said, “You remind me a lot of your father and he was definitely not an idiot.”

  “Thanks.” He knew exactly what to say at exactly the right time. She wiped her tears away and blew her nose.

  “Anytime you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here.” He sat down on the bed, and patted the mattress beside him, “Now, you sure you’re okay?”

  She looked at him and wanted nothing more than to be held. She walked to the bed and sat beside him. He held his arms open, inviting her to lean against him. She let herself melt into his embrace. She closed her eyes, listened to the thud of his heart in his chest and breathed in the outdoorsy smell of him. She sighed and let herself relax in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, and the last thing she remembered was him telling stories about her father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The next morning Beth woke up in her father’s bed, still fully dressed, with a quilt thrown over her. She was alone, but the smell of Beau lingered on her skin. He had taken care of her when she needed to be taken care of. She smiled and threw back the covers, ready to tackle the day.

  Half an hour later, she tugged on her new cowboy boots, pulled her boot cut Wrangler jeans over the top of them and stood to admire her new look in the full-length mirror. At least she looked like someone who could ride horses. Now all she needed was a cowboy hat and she’d be set. She made a screwed up face at her reflection as she recalled her first riding experience at the ranch. Today would be better. She felt a little embarrassed about letting down her guard the night before, but was looking forward to spending time with Beau.

  Meow! The tabby wound himself around Beth’s feet, then stopped to look her squarely in the eye.

  “Tripod, cross your fingers and toes that I don’t take another saddle horn in the gut!” Beth whispered to the cat. Beth strode down the long hallway, enjoying the way her boots sounded as she walked. Charlotte was in the kitchen, kneading a loaf of sourdough bread.

  “You look like you’re ready to try riding again! I’m so glad. I know you had a rough start, but you’ll enjoy it once you get the hang of it.” Charlotte wiped her hands on her apron, leaving flour handprints on the red gingham fabric. “Beau is a good teacher. He’s very patient.”

  “I hope so,” Beth answered with a wry grin, “He may need all the patience he can get with a beginner like me.”

  Charlotte shooed her towards the door, “Run along now and ride before the sun gets up too high. And don’t take it personally if Beau refers to you as a rank greenhorn. That’s just his way.”

  She found herself outside, staring at the door that had just been closed in her face. Between Beau thinking she was a “rank greenhorn” and Charlotte shooing her out the door, she wasn’t feeling much like the boss at all today. She closed her eyes and took a deep

  breath of clean, country air. She smiled as she thought about how much better the air smelled here than in the city, and how quickly she was growing used to it.

  “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and breathe all day, Boss?” Beau called out from the doorway of the barn.

  “I’m coming,” Beth answered, a little nervous about seeing Beau after breaking down in tears in front of him. She walked down the stone path to the barn, admiring the flat paving stones that had been laid out so carefully and the rows of bright marigolds that lined the walk. The drive was empty. Even Lana’s big rig was gone.

  She looked up to see Beau leaned back, one foot cocked against the side of the barn. He chewed on a piece of straw, his dark eyes nearly hidden under the lowered brim of his straw hat. She supposed he wore his hat pulled down to hide his face. He was hiding quite a lot beneath that cool exterior.

  “OK. I’m here and ready to learn,” Beth announced as she stopped in front of Beau.

  He looked her up and down, and the corner of his mouth twitched up as he took in her unscuffed boots and stiff new Wranglers.

  “Charlotte must’ve helped you pick out them jeans,” he observed.

  “What’s wrong with these jeans?” she demanded as she looked down.

  “Not a thing, so just calm yourself down,” he said. The corner of his mouth twitched again, “I just can’t imagine you picking out Wranglers to wear. You seem more the Calvin Klein type.”

  “For the record, I haven’t worn Calvins since I was in high school,” she answered with a grin. She raised one eyebrow. “And I did not come out here to discuss my fashion preferences. I came here to learn to ride. Are you still willing to teach me, or shall I ask Joe or Cole? Or maybe Aidan?”

  “Come on.” He pushed away from the barn wall and motioned for her to follow him as he entered the barn.

  “I see Lana’s rig is gone. Did she leave?”

  “Doubt it. Probably just running around causin’ trouble in town.” He shrugged and kept walking, “Then again, with Aunt Lana, you just never know. When she decides it’s time to leave, she’ll just up and leave.”

  “I know this is none of my business, but is everything okay between you two?”

  He paused in mid-stride before he answered, “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

  She shrugged, but felt a little stung. She had opened up to him, but he clearly didn’t want to confide in her. As they started down the north aisle, the tom cat darted past them. He jumped on top of a tack trunk, then onto a stall wall and up to the hay loft. From that lofty vantage point, he trotted along above the pair of humans.

  He stopped every few feet to peer down at them, as if making sure they were still following him. Beth caught herself smiling at the cat’s antics.

  “Where’d you get that cat anyway?” Beau asked as they walked.

  “What do you mean where did I get him? He was perched on the front porch of the main house the mor
ning after I arrived here.”

  “Hmmm. That’s funny,” Beau observed. “I don’t recall seeing that cat until you got here. I thought you brought him with you.”

  The two walked the next few feet in silence, then Beau stopped at the end stall, which belonged to Dingo. Beth closed her eyes and groaned.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but Dingo is the best beginner’s horse we got. He’s a sweetheart and he’ll train you right. Trust me on this.” Beau grabbed a black nylon halter from the brass horse head hook and slid the stall door open. He slipped the halter over the horse’s head, led him out and clipped him to the tie attached to the wall. He pointed to the tack trunk against the wall.

  “Open that up and find the curry brush. You remember what that is, right?”

  Beth nodded, opened the wooden trunk and produced a round, black, rubber brush with a red hand strap across the back. She had watched closely since she’d arrived at the ranch, and now she looked forward to showing what she’d learned. She turned to Beau and held up the brush.

  “Yup,” he nodded his approval. “Do you remember what to do with it?”

  “I think I do. Like this?” She approached the horse on his left side and began moving the brush in small, round strokes over the horse’s neck. Dingo nickered and nodded his head. She jumped back, her eyes wide. Beau laughed and she puffed her breath out, embarrassed.

  “You’re doing it right. He’s tellin’ you it feels good and he wants you to put some muscle in it. Horses are big animals with thick skin. When you rub real gentle, it’s like a fly tickling him. So you’ve got to put some energy into it so it feels like a massage.” He stepped forward so that he was just inches behind her. She could feel his breath on her ear as he leaned forward, examining her work.

  “Oh, that makes sense,” she said. She rubbed the curry over the horse with a bit more pressure and he nickered and nodded his head again. This time she kept going, and moved down his neck and over his shoulder. He leaned against her, into the rubbing motion. She put her left hand against the horse’s rump as she moved to the horse’s right side. Beau nodded his approval.

  After she curried the horse, she turned to Beau and lifted her eyebrows expectantly. “Now what, cowboy?”

  He grinned at her, then talked her through the rest of the grooming and said, “You’re following the hair’s growth. That’s good. You’re a natural!”

  For the finishing touch, she moved the horse’s heavy forelock to the side so she could brush his whole face with a soft brush. When she brushed, Dingo lowered his head and gently butted against her chest. Beth laughed, and Beau cracked a smile.

  “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.”
<
br />   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?”