Chapter 3

Chapter Three

" I was looking at those pictures over on the sideboard," Charlotte said, which didn't answer anything Beau had asked her. "Is she your sister?"

"Yes," he said, noting the cautious tone in his own voice. "One of them. Her name is Dolly."

"I used to show horses," Charlotte said, her pretty little voice making Beau want to lean closer and have her tell him more about that. But that was the flirty version of himself. This version was conducting an interview, and he wasn't going to step outside those bounds.

Part of him realized that he couldn't hire Charlotte. If he did, she'd live and work here, and that always made dating someone more complicated. Beau didn't want complicated, not in his love life. Not in anything, but especially when it came to women.

Beau had learned he was a simple cowboy, and he just wanted something simple. A beautiful wife to come home to after he'd thrown moldy hay out of a loft for too many hours. An easy conversation about their big dreams, vacations they'd never take, and horses.

"I love horses," Charlotte said next, as if reading his thoughts. "Some people are afraid of them, but that's only because they can't really speak their language. I can."

"A-ha. So that'll make you a good stable manager."

"It will," she said. "The listing said you had forty-plus horses here. When I was showing horses, I worked at a boarding barn. Hundreds of horses. I can easily care for forty."

"Plus," he said. "We share equines with Courage Reins, though they have some facilities of their own, usually for horses they're putting through training."

"I simply get along with horses," Charlotte said. "And I love talking to them. Mucking out their stalls. Feeding them and giving them treats. Watching them run along the fence when they don't get to go on trail rides."

A wide smile covered her whole face. "I wasn't the Stable Manager at the last barn where I worked, but I can do the job no problem."

"What was your last job?" Beau asked. "I glanced over your résumé this morning, but I don't recall."

"I, uh." Charlotte cleared her throat, which only drew Beau's attention to her. She put off the scent of fresh cotton, and she held her pizza in the cutest way possible. "I've been a nanny for Mason's kids." She took a huge bite of her lunch then, and Beau grinned.

Why, he wasn't sure. Only that she seemed uncomfortable talking about her previous job—which had nothing to do with horses, he noted—and thought a giant bite of pizza would save her from having to speak more about this topic. "Is that right?" he asked. "How many kids they got?"

She chewed quickly now, and Beau thought she'd certainly scrape her throat she swallowed so fast. "Four," she said. "The youngest is moving into kindergarten this year, so they don't need a nanny anymore."

"Thus, you need a job."

"It would be nice to have a place of my own too," she said. "I've been living with them for…a while."

Beau wanted to ask how long, because it seemed to be a thing for Charlotte. Instead, he nodded and asked, "Do they have horses?"

"No, sir," she said. "Two dogs, though. Same as you."

"So he moves up here to a new ranch, and you came with?"

Watching her squirm shouldn't bring him so much joy. Or make him want to flirt even more obviously with her. "So you're in touch with him," she said.

"When someone buys a ranch worth over a million dollars, word gets around," Beau said casually.

"They sold a big place outside of Austin."

"Heard that too," Beau said.

"I needed a change of scenery," she said.

"Where are your parents?"

Charlotte folded the end of her pizza and shoved the whole thing into her mouth. Beau couldn't help it then; he laughed. She simply gaped at him with wide eyes, and through his chuckles, he said, "At least I know your tell now."

"What?" she asked around the pizza. Somehow, he even found that attractive.

Beau told himself to get control of his hormones. He simply hadn't had a woman in his cabin in a long time. Especially not one as pretty as Charlotte.

He shook the thought from his head. "When you don't want to talk, you take a big bite."

She covered her mouth with her hand as she swallowed. "That is not true."

"Then where are your parents?" He threw up a prayer that they hadn't died. He'd been good enough friends with Mason that he'd like to think if one of his parents had died, Beau would've gotten a phone call.

"My folks and other brothers are in San Antonio," she said. "I didn't want to go back there."

"Why not?"

"Felt like moving backward," she said, her gaze darting all over his kitchen. Ah, another tell. Something about San Antonio plagued her, but Beau told himself he didn't have to know all the answers today.

And that was him thinking he'd get to see Charlotte again, and he didn't even know if that was true. So he backpedaled and reached to tap awake his phone. He'd compiled a list of questions for that afternoon's interviews, and he caught sight of one.

"Have you ever worked in management before?"

"Yes," she said without missing a beat.

"How so?" He looked at her. "Before the nannying?"

"No, inside the nannying. You try getting four kids out the door for school when they start at different times, everyone wants something different for breakfast, and half the children can't find their shoes." She cocked her eyebrows at him, and Beau had exactly zero experience with children, so he couldn't argue.

He'd known plenty of kids over the years, but he hadn't taken care of any of them for longer than ten minutes, so he said, "Fair enough. What other qualities do you have that would be good for a Stable Manager?"

"I'm detail-oriented," she said. "So I'll set a schedule with those equines, and they'll love me for it. I'm an early riser, so you'll never have to wonder if breakfast will be on time. I love to ride as much as I like brushing down the horses, cleaning tack, and dressing wounds, so the horses will never be bored, wounded, hurt, alone, or dirty."

"No one ever wants a dirty horse." Beau gave her a smile she did not return.

"I'm sure you're joking," she said. "Because no, once horses are done with their work, they should be treated right, and that includes proper hygiene."

"Horse hygiene," he said.

"Exactly." She picked up her second slice of pizza and took a normal-sized bite. She possessed confidence when talking about horses, that was for sure.

Beau polished off his third piece and dusted his hands. "Okay, Miss Wisenhouer," he said. "I have four more interviews this afternoon. I'll call you soon, okay?"

Her face fell, but she nodded. After she swallowed, she said, "Yes, sir." It didn't take long after that for her to help him clean up by putting her plate in the sink and heading out. Beau waved to her from the front door, everything inside him wanting to ask her to dinner.

But he didn't, and he wouldn't. Maybe if he met someone better than her for the job that afternoon, when he called and broke the bad news, he could ask her out then. "And if she's the best person for the job?" he asked himself as Charlotte disappeared between the barn and the stable. A parking lot sat on the other side of the structures, and she'd surely parked there.

Beau went back inside the house, and he quickly texted the other four applicants about a change of venue for the interviews. He could do them in the conference room at the administration building.

That way, the soft, feminine scent of Charlotte's skin wouldn't get erased as quickly from his cabin.

About quitting time, Beau knocked on Squire Ackerman's door. It stood open, and the owner of the ranch glanced up from his laptop. "Yep, Beau."

"I think I've found us a great Stable Manager."

Squire leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He yawned, and Beau reminded himself that he wasn't that much younger than Squire. His oldest had already completed a year at Baylor University, and Beau would never quite measure up to the other cowboy.

"Come in," he said.

Beau stayed leaning against the doorjamb, a folder in his hand. "They'll be great," he said.

"A great new Stable Manager," Squire said. "Why do you look like you've swallowed bees then?"

Beau cracked a smile then. He pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to Squire's desk. He heaved a sigh as he sat down. "She's perfect for it. Her brother swears by her ability with horses, though she hasn't done much with them in recent years."

He tossed the folder containing Charlotte's résumé onto the desk. "But I figure that's not a bad thing. She won't have any preconceived ways of doing things. She'll manage it the way you and Pete want."

"The way you want," Squire corrected.

"Sure," Beau said easily. "Have you been hearin' the pronoun I'm using?" He flipped open the folder. "It's a woman."

Squire glanced at the pages inside, but he didn't' read them. "Okay," he said.

"Our female cabin is full." Beau raised his right eyebrow at Squire. "Three of ‘em in there, and there's no way we can cram in a fourth."

Squire sighed, though his expression danced with a hint of light. "And the rest of the cabins are full too." He looked up to the ceiling, as if the answers would be there—or God would send him a solution from heaven.

Beau swallowed, his nerves firing at him. "All but mine, boss."

Squire's eyes yanked back to his. "You're the foreman."

"The position comes with boarding," he said. "I've got three bedrooms, boss. I can share. I've?—"

"You're the foreman," Squire said again.

"But I'm not married. I have no family." Beau hunched down in his chair. "It's ridiculous I have that big cabin anyway."

"So we'll move two men in with you, so this…." He peered at the paper in the folder. "Charlotte can have her own place?"

"About," Beau said.

"Who would you move?"

Beau let his chest puff up as he breathed in. "Thus why I knocked on your door."

"We just rearranged everyone," Squire said. "To find the pairings that get along. So we'll move a whole pairing, but…."

Beau let his boss work through the other men who worked the ranch. Three Rivers had eleven cowboy cabins, including his, in a row leading from the homestead to the administration building, and they were full.

All full up.

Eighteen men and three women, plus Beau, worked the ranch. Plus Squire and his family. Peter Marshall and his wife owned Courage Reins, and he employed a bunch of people who didn't live out here on the ranch.

Brynn and Ethan Greene owned Bowman's Breeds, a horse training facility down on the same side as the homestead. They maintained a residence in town as well, and sometimes the cowboys who worked at Three Rivers had to head over to her place to tend to her horses.

Beau had always been happy to do it, because that was what cowboys did. They helped each other when necessary.

"There is not a pairing we can move as-is that you won't want to kill within a week." Squire leaned forward, his smile slow and his expression challenging. "Is that about where you landed?"

"Yep," Beau said.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I would like you to tell me what to do."

Squire gave him a long look and picked up the folder. "She's it, huh?"

"Better than the other four who applied."

He read through the paper and said nothing. Finally, he closed it, his movements slow. "You've got three bedrooms and two baths, right?"

"Right."

"And a loft."

"Yes, sir."

Squire tossed the folder down on the desk. "Seems like enough room for you and Miss Wisen—whatever."

Beau smiled at him and said, "Wisenhouer."

"Make the call. See what she says. No matter what, someone's gonna have to move in with you, and I don't see the sense in making two men move—one of whom you only deal with when absolutely necessary—when she can just take one of the bedrooms."

Beau picked up the folder. "Okay, boss." He got to his feet and turned toward the door.

"Is that what you were thinking?" Squire asked.

"Yes," Beau said. "But it sounded crazy in my thoughts, so I wasn't sure." He turned back at the doorway. "Thanks, Squire."

"Do you think she'll agree to it?"

"I have no idea," Beau said. "I don't know her."

"Mm, you will soon enough."

Beau tipped his hat at Squire, who grinned him right out of the office. He could make the phone call from the admin building, but instead, Beau made the quick trip home. He wasn't sure how to say what needed to be said, so he fed his dogs and took another frozen meal out and got it cooking in the oven.

He showered. He wandered over to the grandfather clock and the pictures on the sideboard. "Dolly and her horses," he murmured to himself.

Time passed, and he ate dinner without making the phone call. His bedtime approached, and he'd told everyone he'd let them know that evening. This job definitely had things about it he didn't like, but for the most part, Beau loved being the foreman.

He made four quick phone calls to deliver bad news to the applicants who hadn't gotten the job. The grandfather clock chimed eight times, and Beau exhaled heavily.

"Just do it," he said, and he grabbed Charlotte's folder so he could get her phone number. One more phone call, and he could rest easy.

He tapped in the numbers, his fingers moving slower and slower. "It's a phone call," he coached himself as he stared at the green button. "It's only a phone call."

Beau touched his screen to make the call, every cell in his body vibrating as if they were each experiencing an individual earthquake.