Denim & Diamonds by Lori Robinett

neighbors.
    Within a few weeks, Beth got her car back, nearly as good as new, and settled into the guest bedroom. She rose at the crack of dawn with everyone else, ate breakfast with her employees around the big oak table – Charlotte made incredibly good strawberry pancakes – and then headed to the barn with Beau to help with the morning chores. With Katie's help, she'd learned enough to feel confident helping him.
    She told herself it was because he was the logical person to work beside, and that it had nothing to do with wanting a reason to be close to him.
    One hot, muggy morning, Beau asked if she wanted to learn how to give a horse a bath. She grabbed a five gallon bucket and flipped it over to form a makeshift seat, then settled in to watch as Beau led Digger into the wash stall. His hands were gentle and strong, and he straightened the horse’s hair under his halter so that it wouldn’t bind or pinch. He was so attentive. Her chest rose and fell with a sigh.
    She watched as he leaned over to squirt shampoo into a bucket. “You and my father were close.”
    He nodded and filled the bucket with water. The horse snorted at the foam, blowing bits towards Beth. “Your father was a good man.”
    Beau dipped a sponge in and began lathering the big horse up, his muscles rippled under his thin t-shirt. As he worked the suds into the animal's coat, he told her the ranch had been a ramshackle mess when John Jameson bought it. The former owner won the lottery, built everything up, then lost interest in the place. The timing was perfect. Beth’s father made a fortune in the stock market investing in dot com ventures, got out just before the bubble burst, and was looking for a place to retire. He rebuilt everything from the ground up to create a first-class horse breeding and training operation, specializing in cutting horses. The top rodeo cowboys in the nation came to the Diamond J Ranch when they were in need of a horse that would win.
    She soaked up the history, curious about the man she hadn’t gotten to know. “Did he ever talk about me?”

For a moment, Beth thought that he was going to ignore her question, but after a long pause, he said, “All the time. His dream was you visiting this place, maybe even staying.”
    Beth snorted, but she sobered when Beau’s head snapped toward her and his eyes narrowed. Her defenses rose. “He never asked me to visit.”
    “Yes, he did. He wasn’t much of a talker, but he wanted you to come. He always put a note in your cards, asking you to come.”
    Beth cocked her head to one side and considered that. Cards had appeared in her mailbox the past several years, about a week before her birthday. No letter or personal note, just a sentence scrawled above her father’s signature, but it wasn’t anything she would consider an invitation. “I don’t remember him asking me to come. Ever.”
    Beau worked soap into the horse’s mane. His hands were strong, but gentle, and he massaged as he worked. A shiver ran up her spine and across her scalp when she remembered his hands tangled in her hair the night they kissed on the front porch.
    "Yes, he did." He shook his head and moved to work on Digger’s tail. “I saw the cards he sent you.”
    Beth leaned forward, elbows on her knees and hands dangling. She frowned as she tried to remember. His comments were usually something like “you should see the colts – they’re looking good this year” or “you should see the barn – the new indoor arena is fantastic”. She smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead.
    Beau stopped in mid-bend, one hand poised over the hose. He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “You okay?”
    She stood and stretched, then began to pace in front of the wash stall. “Seriously? He considered ‘you should see this’ or ‘you should see that’ an invitation?”
    Water squirted from the hose and the cold overspray showered over her, causing her to flinch. She looked at Beau, saw him smiling