Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

C harlotte held up the phone so Felicity could see her reflection in the mirror. "Well?"

"That's a great color on you, Char," her sister-in-law said. "Purple suits you."

"It's the only thing I have, and it's from your wedding." The dress she'd pulled from an unpacked garment bag at the back of her closet had weathered the years really well. Probably because she hadn't worn it again since the day her brother got married.

"No wonder I love it," Felicity said, and Charlotte caught the tail end of her smile. "Seriously, Char, you look amazing. I can't believe you can still fit into that."

"I was bloated from all the meds they had me on when you and Mace got married," she said. "I think I weigh less now."

"How are you doing?" Felicity asked, and somehow, when she asked, Charlotte's hackles didn't get raised. But if she had been her momma, or Mason, or even worse, Beau, Charlotte would've come up with both fists swinging.

"Good," she said. "I mean, I've been here one day. But good. I got to meet all the horses yesterday. They all love me, of course."

"Of course," Felicity said with a giggle. "You took them strawberry candies."

Charlotte didn't deny it. "I know I can be good at this job."

"I know that too, sweetie." Felicity sighed and added, "Okay, I have to jet. The timer on the oven is going off. We wish you were here for dinner."

"I wish I was too." Charlotte sank onto her bed, which she'd slept on great last night. "But Felicity, I really like it here so far."

"I'm so glad." She gave her a warm smile, and they waved at one another until Felicity ended the video call.

Charlotte took a moment to just sit and let things sink in, and then she got to her feet so she could finish her makeup and put on her earrings. Bennett and Ellie were getting married right here at Three Rivers Ranch, and Beau said he'd knock on her door and "pick her up" for the wedding at four o'clock.

"Is this a date?" she wondered aloud as she brushed foundation the same color as her skin across her cheeks and chin. He'd asked her to the wedding. He'd held her hand. He looked at her with the male edge of desire she hadn't seen in a while but certainly recognized.

She'd just stepped into her shoes—a pair of clear heels that didn't really match the dress. She didn't have anything else, though, not for a wedding she'd been asked to attend yesterday—when a knock sounded on her door.

Charlotte hadn't lived alone for a great many years, so knocking on her door didn't startle her that much. Her pulse did speed a bit now, because never had she had the hottest cowboy in the state standing on the other side of that door. Usually it was a child who needed something, or her brother wanting to talk to her for a quick minute.

Now, she moved to the door and opened it, holding onto the side of it so she could lean her hip into it. She cocked her knee and stood on one toe as she smiled at Beau. "Hey, handsome."

"Hey," fell from his lips. He stared at her and then let his gaze slide down the dress to the clear shoes. "Aren't you a pretty bird?"

She laughed lightly and hung her head. "It is a wedding, cowboy."

"Sure is." He offered her his arm, his smile already faltering. "I can't be late. He's my best friend, and I'm the best man."

"I love the bowtie."

"Thanks," Beau said dryly.

"You didn't have to take the rest of them down, you know." Charlotte looked at the blank space on the wall in the hall where they'd been.

"I think I was ready for it," he said.

"What were they?"

"Bowties from all the weddings I've been to," he said. "From other cowboys here on the ranch. Some guys are still here; some have moved on."

Charlotte heard the nostalgia in his voice, and she realized that Beau viewed his ranch friends, his cowboys, the way she viewed Felicity, Mason, and the kids—as family. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

"In Texas, about twenty-three years," he said. "At Three Rivers, let's see…coming up on nineteen years." He walked slowly down the steps to give her time to place her foot just right in the heels. The gravel wasn't going to be fun either, and Charlotte regretted her footwear choice.

"Do you remember meeting me?" she asked, her voice hardly sounding like her own. "I came to town with Mason a few times. You…." She trailed off, because she didn't like where she'd been headed.

"I remember," he said. "Vaguely." They moved slowly down the gravel lane, and already Charlotte could hear twinkling music. The ranch held a vibrancy and life that only a wedding could bring, and she took in all the sights and sounds at the same time.

The bright blue sky, the striking green grass ahead, the classic red barn on the end. Beyond that, she could hear the music, and the sound of cars and trucks arriving, and if she listened hard, the din of voices who'd already gathered and were mingling.

"You must like it here," she said when he didn't go on about their first meeting when she was fifteen years old.

"I love it here," he said. "I mean, anywhere is better than a ranch in New Mexico, so." He chuckled. "But Three Rivers is my home now. The ranch, the town. I love it."

They arrived on the lawn, and Charlotte was glad to stand for a moment to take in the scene. Balloons and streamers waved in the wind, but she didn't see any tents, tables, or chairs. "Where are they getting married?"

Beau nodded over to the huge riding and training facility across the street—Courage Reins. "The big barn over there."

She detected something in his voice, but when she looked at him, he wore nothing but the pure shininess of a newly minted copper penny. "Will there be dancing?" she asked.

Beau looked at her then, his thoughts coming closer to the present than they'd been a moment ago. She could just see it in his eyes. "Sure will."

"Are you a good dancer, Mister Peterson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a smile. He started moving toward the edge of the lawn that met the dirt road, and she went easily with him.

"And modest about it too."

"My momma said it was okay to admit when you're good at something," he said. "Doesn't mean I'm bragging. I'm just saying I'm good at it."

"So…will you dance with me at the wedding tonight?"

"Depends," he said.

"On what?"

"If it's going to freak out your heart."

Charlotte wanted to snap back at him, but then he added, "Because my pulse is already goin' nuts with you on my arm, so maybe we should do a raincheck."

She dang near fell down, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Your…what?"

"Let's talk about it after," he murmured just before he went into full public-relations mode and said hello to Ethan Greene and his wife, Brynn. They had three children with them, all pre-teens if Charlotte could predict ages. Since she'd been nannying kids that same age for a while, she felt certain she could.

The real Beau Peterson disappeared behind the foreman version of him, and Charlotte mourned his loss. Still, he was handsome and funny, charismatic and outgoing, and she enjoyed being next to him as they mingled with others from the ranch.

Everyone flicked their eyes to her for a moment, but no one made any comments about her being there with him, and she'd moved her hand out of his arm before they'd reached the grass. She thought about his racing pulse, the look he slid her every so often, and the way he'd invited her to this wedding.

If they weren't dating yet, he definitely wanted to start. And Charlotte found she wanted that too. She hadn't been out with anyone in a long time—nannying four children and living with her brother wasn't the most romantic of breeding grounds.

She barely knew which way was up right now, and she told herself she had plenty of time. So she could enjoy this wedding, start her new job, and figure out how to live with the cowboy for more than twenty-four hours before she started a romantic relationship with him.

"I have to go line up," he said, leaning his head down and creating an intimate bubble between them. "I'll be back in a bit. Save me a chair?"

"Up front?"

"The wedding party is up front, yes." He raised his head then, and Charlotte caught a flicker of unrest in those beautiful eyes. Beau walked away without saying anything else, leaving Charlotte to find her way to the rows of chairs with the altar up front.

Not that it was hard. The crowd swept her along, each cowboy and his lady wearing something fancy and fine. Their Sunday-best hats, and more black suit jackets than Charlotte had seen even at church.

She found a few rows up front that only held women, and she suspected their cowboys would make up the wedding party. She walked on her glass heels and approached, leaning down to say to one woman, "If my…the man I'm with is in the wedding party, can I sit here?"

"Sure thing," she said with a smile. She indicated the rest of her row, which was third from the front. "I need to be on the end for my husband."

"No problem," Charlotte said as she squeezed by her. "I don't know—we'll be fine wherever." She figured Beau would have to walk around and over people all day, so it didn't really matter. Everyone would be doing it once they came in.

"Who are you here with?" the woman asked. "I need three seats. My sons are in the line too."

Charlotte moved down another chair and set her phone on the one she needed for Beau. "Uh, I came with my cabinmate, Beau Peterson."

"Oh, you must be Charlotte." The woman's whole face brightened, and she leaned over the trio of empty chairs between them. "I'm Juliette Ahlstrom. Garth's wife."

Charlotte simply smiled and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Garth and I used to live in your cabin," she said. "He was the foreman here before Beau."

Dots lined up to create a picture, and Charlotte's smile widened. "Oh, of course. I literally moved in yesterday. I don't know anything about anything yet."

"You will," Juliette promised. "Soon enough." She sat up straight in her seat and slid her hand down the silver fabric of the dress she wore. "You got moved in okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And how's Beau doing?"

Charlotte opened her mouth to answer, then found she didn't have one. "I…don't know. How should he be?"

"He and Ben have been best friends for years," Juliette said as she peered behind her to see if the wedding procession was about to start. "They've lived together forever, right up until Beau moved into the foreman's cabin. I'd expect him to be moody."

"Moody?"

Juliette looked at her, and Charlotte honestly didn't know what else to say. "Yes," Juliette said. "You know how cowboys are when their worlds get shaken up. They go silent. Then they get mad over silly things." She smiled and giggled and shook her head. "My boys do the same thing, though I keep telling them there are other ways to work through your emotions."

Charlotte smiled too. She nodded too. "Oh, I get it. Sure, of course." But she hadn't seen Beau acting "moody."

Of course, she hardly knew Beau Peterson, so she certainly wasn't the best judge of his behavior. Thankfully, the wedding started, and she got to her feet to see Bennett leading the way down the aisle.

A bit odd, slightly off-script, but he wore a smile the size of the great state of Texas, and he led only cowboys. No women. No pairs. Just Bennett surrounded by cowboys.

Beau was second in line, and that told Charlotte where he ranked in his best friend's life too. Mason had talked about Beau plenty, as they'd stayed friends since their days together in college. But seeing him with Bennett was a whole new ball game. He clearly loved his friend, and when they reached the altar, Beau grabbed onto Bennett and hugged him hard.

No one tried to get him to step back. He faced Charlotte, and she watched his mouth move as he whispered something to Bennett. The other cowboy nodded and hugged Beau back just as hard.

And she knew then that while this wedding was an amazing thing, a beautiful union of two people who loved each other deeply, it also cut like a hot knife. This was something separating Beau from someone he loved, and while they both knew it would be okay, it wasn't right now.

She couldn't look away from him as Beau finally let go and shuffled out of the way so the other men could congratulate Ben. Only a minute later, the men started making their way onto the first three rows, and Beau spotted her, fixed his bowtie—the eighteenth one he'd worn for a wedding here at the ranch—and made his way toward her past Garth and his teenagers.

Charlotte didn't know what to say to make things better. Sometimes words simply didn't do a good enough job. So she linked her arm through his and stayed standing while the most gorgeous bride in the world strolled down the aisle to her forever cowboy.

As she sat and Beau slid his hand into hers, Charlotte acknowledged that part of her getting a new job and moving out on her own included finding someone to love the way Ellie obviously loved Bennett.

She forced herself not to look at Beau, but she couldn't stop her mind from spinning questions like, What if it's Beau Peterson? What if he could be your knight in shining armor? Your Prince Charming? The cowboy who sees you, accepts you, and loves you no matter how many times you faint or how stubborn you are about training horses?

What if it's him and you've already met him? What if? What if? What if?