Page 33 of Eighteen Bowties and Counting

He watched her again, this time walking away from him and back toward the stable, a surge of protectiveness filling him from the bottom of his cowboy boots to the brim of his hat. He wanted to be the one who knew her signs, distressed or otherwise. He wondered if she’d ever admit to him that she was tired or overwhelmed or about to pass out.

She was such a strong woman, and Charlotte wouldn’t want to admit any weakness. He suddenly understood the weight of responsibility Mason had been carrying all these years, and why he’d told Beau to keep an eye on Charlotte.

She won’t admit it when she’s not feeling well, he’d said.

His job wasn’t just about running the ranch anymore; it was about caring for Charlotte, for seeing her through the storms of her health problems—because she would do the same for him. And in that quiet moment, with the dust settling and the cowboys dispersing and the sun dipping low, Beau realized that Charlotte wouldn’t only become a fixture on his ranch. She was fast becoming the anchor in his life.

Oh, and he’d have to face her when they both returned to the cabin that night. He groaned inwardly, because they had a date on the schedule too, and he didn’t want that marred by this afternoon’s situation.

So, since he’d rather face her sooner rather than later, and he could work from the cabin, he returned there and stepped into the shower. He got dressed in date clothes for that evening, and he went through the schedule in the spare bedroom.

The moment he heard Charlotte come in, he abandoned his paperwork and headed out to the kitchen. She looked even dirtier than before, and he wasn’t blind to how pale her face had become.

“Hey,” he said.

She merely looked over to him as she hung up her hat.

“You made the sign for help,” he said.

“I absolutely did not.” She stepped toward him, her fingers curling into fists once, twice, before she released them completely. “You embarrassed me out there, and you interrupted a perfectly good session.”

“I did not embarrass you,” he said. “No one thought anything of it.”

“How could they not?” She shook her head and dodged by him to wash her hands in the kitchen sink.

Beau had laid out some cards this morning, but he wasn’t sure how many more to deal tonight. “I’m never going to apologize for taking one of my guys out of a dangerous situation,” he said.

“I was not in a dangerous situation.” She pumped the soap dispenser way too many times, pink foam filling her palms twice over. “We’d worked for forty minutes to tire her out. She’d just come over to me.”

“You stumbled.”

“She pushed me!” Charlotte shook her head. “I’m not going to explain it.” She washed all the way up to her elbows while Beau tried to find a better explanation for what he’d done. One that wasn’t him over-reacting.

“Maybe we need a new hand symbol,” he said.

“There were a dozen men there,” she said. “All I needed to do was turn to Kenny and say, ‘I need some help.’ Case closed.”

Beau moved in close beside her, the scent of lemons and sunshine coming from the soap. “But, Charlotte, will you do that?”

“Of course I will,” she snapped at him, seemingly determined to be upset with him.

He slid his hand along her waist and drew her tight against his side. “Are you going to be mad that I worried about you?”

“Maybe,” she said, clearly not willing to give in yet.

“I’ve pulled plenty of people out of a training ring before,” he said. “I promise you, no one is going to think anything of it.”

She dried her hands and rehung the towel over the handle on the oven. After drawing a big breath and then pushing it all out, she looked at him. “All right.”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “You do look pale. And tired.” He didn’t want to suggest they not go out that night, so he didn’t. He wasn’t sure he’d even be able to get his voice to say something so contrary to what he truly wanted.

“Lovely,” she said dryly. “I’m going to go shower. We’re still going to dinner tonight, right?”

“I want to,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth. She didn’t wear lipstick for the horses, and he wondered if she would for him.

“Then stop crowding into me and let me go shower.” She shoved against his shoulder, and he fell back the same way Valentine had earlier that day. “Jeez, you’re as bad as her.” She gave him a quick smile that seemed to carry some flirty vibes as she brushed by him.

“We need a new hand signal,” he called after her.

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