Chapter 4

Chapter Four

C harlotte held up four miniature ice cream sandwiches, two in each hand, and called, "Who wants ice cream?"

It was no wonder she was the favorite aunt. Her three nieces and her one nephew all started clamoring for the treat, which their mother had approved.

"I'm the oldest," Ella said. "I should get one first."

Charlotte grinned at her, and she did get the first one. Not because she was the oldest, but because she stood the tallest. Charlotte could easily hand her the treat over the heads of the other kids, and then she presented an ice cream sandwich to Kennedy, the cutest seven-year-old on the planet.

Garrett got his next, and then Charlotte sat down and pulled the youngest onto her lap before she passed over the ice cream. "There you go, Alice."

"Thank you, Char-Char."

She had to help Alice get the wrapper off, and once she'd done that, Charlotte couldn't help looking over to the clock. Eight-ten. Was Beau ever going to call? She wasn't sure if no news was good news or not. Surely he wasn't still interviewing, but she really had no idea what the hiring process was like at Three Rivers Ranch.

She'd put a show on for the kids while Mason and Felicity packed lunches for their picnic tomorrow. But really, she just wanted her phone to ring. She'd avoided Mason after returning to his ranch, which sat over an hour from Three Rivers. She didn't want to answer his questions, and she hadn't thought of a reason why Beau would've called Mason other than her health problems.

So she'd looked through the job boards, just to have a back-up plan if she didn't get the Stable Manager position. She'd helped with dinner, and she'd thanked the Good Lord above that Mason had been distracted with a portion of the shed's roof that had come off in the wind.

Now, the kids finished their ice cream, and Beau still hadn't called. Charlotte had half a mind to go into the kitchen and demand Mason give her his number. She'd call him herself if he wasn't going to tell her about the job tonight.

Just when her desperation had started to choke her, her phone rang. She nearly threw Alice off her lap in her hurry to get the device out of her pocket. "Please, Lord," she begged when she saw the number didn't belong to anyone she had saved in her phone. "Let this be Beau."

"Who's Beau?" Garrett asked.

"No one," she said, which was about as far from the truth as possible. If he was no one, why had she been thinking about him all day? And not only about the job and potentially working for him.

It seemed like all her fifteen-year-old fantasies had only been lying dormant, and the human memory was a very powerful thing. It had conjured up everything she'd once felt for him, but in a new, more mature way.

She tapped on the call. "Hello?"

"Miss Wisenhouer?"

She knew Beau's voice instantly. Relief rushed through her. "I have been waiting for you to call," she said. "You've been driving me nuts."

He chuckled in that deep, throaty, rich voice that tickled her attraction. "Sorry, Miss Wisenhouer."

"You don't need to call me that."

"Oh? So a first-name basis is okay?"

Charlotte took a moment, because it sure seemed like he was flirting with her. Flirting. "Yes," she said. "In fact, sometimes I'm called Char or even Char-Char."

He laughed, the sound delicious and robust. "I don't think I'll be using that last one."

She grinned too, and she paced down the hall toward the bedrooms. "So? What's the news?" Please let it be good , she prayed. Please, please, please.

Beau cleared his throat, which so wasn't good. Charlotte pressed her eyes closed and tried to will her pulse to stay steady. She didn't need to get all excited, or depressed, or worried, or scared before he'd even said anything.

But clearing his throat? Never a good sign.

Maybe he's getting a cold , she thought.

"Let me explain," Beau said.

"That doesn't sound good."

"Depends on your definition of that word."

"Go on then."

"I want you as the Stable Manager. You're the best candidate, and I think you'd do a real good job."

Charlotte let his words sink into her ears, and as they did, she grinned and grinned. "All right," she said. "I accept."

"You didn't let me explain."

"What's to explain?" She couldn't even imagine moving onto that ranch. Into a place of her own. Of course, she'd have to share with someone. Maybe two people. But it wouldn't be her brother and sister-in-law.

"Charlotte, we're full-up here at Three Rivers."

She took a breath, her mouth opening to say something. But what, she didn't know. A puff of air came out of her mouth, and she promptly closed it again.

"We have three cowgirls here," he said. "Their cabin is full. We just went through this whole restructuring—you know what? None of this is important. Here's the situation: You got the job, but if you take it, you'll have to live with me."

Silence flooded the line. "Live…with you." She wasn't asking. She was simply trying to make the words understandable.

"Yes." Beau cleared his throat again. "The foreman's cabin is bigger than the others. I currently live alone, and I have three bedrooms, two baths, and a loft. I talked to Squire, and we figure it's enough room for the two of us."

"The two of us."

"You can think on it," he said. "Talk to your brother. Your mama. Whatever. Whoever. I can show you the cabin and you can pick either of the two empty bedrooms. We'd each have our own bathroom, but yours isn't in your room. We'll obviously have to share the kitchen and living room, but we could set you up in the loft with a TV room or whatever. I'm—well, I'm going to stop talking now and let you have a chance."

"I—well, to be honest, I don't know what to say."

"Think about it," he said. "Come back out tomorrow if you want to see the cabin. I'm around, and I can run over to the cabin anytime."

Charlotte turned around and looked back down the hall toward the living room. "I—what about lunch again? What if I brought it for the two of us?"

Beau let several seconds go by. "Like a date?"

"A date?"

"Forget it," Beau said quickly. "Yes, absolutely. Bring lunch, and I'll show you the cabin."

"All right," ghosted out of Charlotte's mouth.

"You've got my number?" he asked. "Call me when you get here."

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeated, his voice brusque and business-like now. "Great. Good-bye." He hung up, and Charlotte stood there, staring at the wall.

"Live with him," she repeated. "Like a date?" She flew into gear then, her breath hitching as she ran down the hall and into the kitchen. "Felicity."

Her sister-in-law had finished packing their picnic lunch for tomorrow's outing, and Charlotte had no idea where she'd gone. The summer evening sunshine still leant plenty of light to the day, and she hurried out onto the deck.

Felicity sat there with a glass of sweet tea, both dogs, and Mason. She looked up and immediately set her tea down. "My goodness, Charlotte. What's wrong?"

Charlotte froze, not wanting to talk about this in front of Mason. But he'd seen her too, and he actually got to his feet. "You're going to pass out," he said. "Come sit down."

"I'm fine," she said, though she did feel a bit lightheaded.

Her brother moved her to his chair and loomed over her. "What's going on? Did you get the job?"

She nodded, a certain numbness spreading through her. "I got it."

"That's great news, honey," Felicity said, and she patted Charlotte's arm. She'd been nothing but kind to Charlotte all these years, and Charlotte loved her nieces and nephew. They all had a hint of red in their hair which came from Felicity, as well as their super Southern streak, as she hailed from Alabama.

"Don't get all worked up about it," she said. "This is good news."

"Yes." Charlotte looked at her, suddenly seeing everything. "I won't be living with you guys anymore."

"Is that what you're worried about?" Mason sat down on the end of the lounge chair. "Char, you wanted this."

"I know," she said. "I'm just saying—that's not what I'm saying. I'm not upset about it." She gave her light-haired brother a glare. He shot it right back at her. "I'm saying, I got the job, and I'm taking it."

She didn't need to discuss living with Beau Peterson with anyone, least of all her older brother who'd once told her to stop making moon eyes at the cowboy. He's nothing but a flirt, Char. Stay away from him.

As a fifteen-year-old, she'd listened to her brother. Not that she and Beau had ever had much opportunity to be around one another.

They did now—and Mason had absolutely no say in it.

"It comes with a cabin," she said. "I'm—" She couldn't speak through her sudden smile. She started to laugh, a hint of mania accompanying the rush of emotions streaming through her. "You guys know I love you, right?"

Tears filled her eyes, and she simply couldn't feel this much and not have a release. "I'm going to miss you and the kids terribly, but I'm—I'm ready for this." She reached out and grabbed onto Mason's hand. "I can do this."

"I never said you couldn't."

"You act like it." She released his hand and brushed at her tears.

Felicity wiped at her own face. "You're going to be brilliant, baby." She smiled and smiled. "Tell her, Mace."

"You're going to be brilliant, Char," he said dutifully. He did smile at her, and the overprotective brother melted away for just a moment. "Just make sure you don't overdo it."

And there he was again. Bossy. Overbearing. Always right.

"I'm going out there again tomorrow," she said, the tears finally subsiding. "I'll get everything worked out, when I'll move and all that."

"And did you talk about a signal or safe word for when you're not feeling well?" Mason asked.

"Not yet," she hedged, and that wasn't a lie. She'd stabilized quickly after sitting down, after the rush of everything. "Oh, I'm so excited. I'm going to go tell the kids, and then I'm gonna call Momma."

She got back to her feet and headed inside the house. What were the chances that Mason, Felicity, or her mother would ever come to the foreman's cabin on Three Rivers Ranch? A place forty-five minutes from anything?

"Slim to none," she muttered to herself, the three words making her giddier than ever. She could pack everything she owned into her SUV, no problem. She didn't need Mason's help with furniture or heavy items. She'd been living with them for ages, and it was assumed the cabin would come furnished.

No problem. Nothing to explain. She wasn't lying if no one asked. So no one needed to know she was living with her boss.

No one needed to know that at all.