Denim & Diamonds

  DENIM

  &

  DIAMONDS

  Lori Robinett

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  DENIM & DIAMONDS

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright ©2014 Lori Robinett

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Cover Photo © CaryPress. All right reserved - used with permission.

  Published by CaryPress: www.CaryPress.com

  DEDICATION

  For the Callaway Critiquers:

  Colleen Donnelly, Carolyn Branch, Ericca Thornhill and Jennifer Bondurant …

  for believing in me,

  and reading this novel over and over and over,

  even when you were as sick of it as I was.

  Love you gals.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book wouldn’t be possible without the National Novel Writing Month. Chris Baty, my Viking hat is off to you. It also would not have gotten polished and finished without the support of my husband, JR, my daughters, Jodi & Katelyn. And, of course, the uncompromising support of my best friend, Lynn, is greatly appreciated.

  I love you all!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Beth peered through the driving rain at the unfamiliar blacktop and eased her foot off the gas pedal. The windshield wipers swished the wetness away for a moment, but couldn’t keep up with the torrent. She flipped the switch to high and the wipers flip-flipped faster. The darkness absorbed the light from her headlights and, yet again, she cursed herself for not getting an earlier start. Procrastination wasn’t usually a vice for her, but leaving the condo that morning for the drive to her father’s ranch had been tough. She had to admit she took too long packing.

  It was all Quinn’s fault. If she hadn’t just broken off the engagement because of his screwing around, she never would’ve agreed to leave the city and move to the middle of nowhere at the drop of a hat. No one could blame her for starting a moratorium on men. They were lying, cheating – ugh! Her blood pressure rose just thinking about it.

  The crackle of the radio irritated her. She frowned and glanced down to switch it off. When she looked up, brown and white fur flashed in her headlights. She yanked the steering wheel right and slammed her foot down on the brake pedal. The BMW careened across the wet blacktop. She spun the steering wheel trying to correct the skid. The sedan slid left, then whipped right. Time slowed as the car plowed into the ditch. The seatbelt cut into her stomach and chest, squeezing the air from her lungs.

  It was all over in a split second.

  She slumped in her seat, her breath ragged and painful. Her heart beat throbbed in her forehead. Rain pelted the roof. The wipers continued to flip-flop.

  Damn it!

  She threw the shifter into Park. Like things weren’t bad enough already. She blinked, trying to regain her bearings, trying to think. Out in the middle of nowhere, in a ditch, by herself. She needed help.

  She fumbled for her purse. The contents had spilled all over the passenger floorboard. She felt for her cell phone, fingers spidering through the contents. Lip gloss, a mirror, a tampon, her emergency condom, her wallet … but no phone.

  Damn it all again!

  Why the hell hadn’t she kept that BMW-Assist thing going? She sucked in a couple of deep breaths, forced herself to run through a mental inventory of her limbs. Everything seemed to be attached and still working.

  Her car was still running. That was good.

  No airbag. That was bad.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the road. No Bambi corpse. That was good.

  She put the car in reverse then eased on the gas. The wheels spun in the mud and grass. That was bad.

  Rain continued to pound the roof of her BMW, a hollow sound. Lightning flashed, highlighting the trees waving in the wind, then thunder shook the ground. She sucked in a deep breath. Stay calm.

  She grasped the gearshift and pushed up, but her hand slipped off. Her fingers tightened around the leather wrapped knob and shoved it into park. A stormy night on an isolated country road. That stupid cell phone had to be there. It must have slid under the seat.

  Good grief. This could be a commercial for OnStar or one of those other services. She might have to spend the night in her car. And that would be really bad.

  Headlights swept over her car and she looked in the rearview mirror as a vehicle pulled to the side of the road behind her. An overhead light popped on as someone got out, then blinked out as the door slammed shut. She sucked in a deep breath and let it whoosh out in a sigh.

  Help. Thank goodness.

  Wait. This could be good or bad. Good if he was the hero-type, bad if he was the ax murderer-type. The way her luck was running, it could go either way. Her fingers froze around the door handle as she

  scanned the inside of the sedan, looking for something she could use as a weapon.

  Not a damned thing.

  He rapped on her window, the sound loud in the confines of the car. He tugged, swinging the car door open. The metal creaked in protest and there in front of her, bathed in the harsh glare of the dome light was the man on the cover of the Maya Banks novel sitting on her nightstand.

  Or a reasonable facsimile of him, anyway.

  Dark blonde hair poked out from under his cowboy hat, framing a face tanned by sun instead of beds, and crystal clear blue eyes that seemed to look into your soul. And stubble. A dusting of very sexy stubble.

  She gave herself a mental shake. Men are the enemy. Men are no good.

  “Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you okay?” The cowboy shouted over a clap of thunder.

  She nodded, taking in the angles of his face, and those eyes that she wanted to stare into. A sigh escaped her lips when she realized he was wearing a black cowboy hat and a leather duster. Perfect.

  Perhaps her declared moratorium on men had been a bit hasty. She smiled and brushed a stray tendril of hair out of her face.

  “Hi.” So much for a great first impression.

  “Hi, yourself. You okay?” His voice was deep and warm, a nice contrast to the cold, blowing rain. Twin frown lines creased his tanned forehead beneath the hat. She didn’t know cowboys were still around, rescuing damsels in distress. A wry laugh escaped as she thought of herself as a damsel in distress.

  If he only knew …

  “I had an accident.” That sounded so lame.

  “I see that.” He ducked his head and looked inside the car. His eyes focused somewhere over her shoulder. She glanced back and saw the golden wrapper of the condom glimmering in the glow of her dome light. When she turned to look at him, the corners of his lips twitched upward exposing dimples. He asked, “What happened?”

  His eyes roamed over her, and she shivered. Maybe he was checking her out, maybe looking for blood, but his gaze lingered over her generous curves. She breathed in the scent of him, letting him appreciate the swell of her chest.

  He smelled good, like freshly mowed grass. She shrugged, “An animal – a deer – ran out in front of me and I swerved. Now I’m stuck in a ditch.”

  “Don’t you know you should never swerve to miss an animal? It’s dangerous,” he chided her.

  “I know, I know. Instinct.” She motioned towards the mess in the floorboard. “I
can’t find my cell phone. Do you have one I can use?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I was in a hurry when I ran to town and left my phone sitting on the kitchen counter. But I can give you a lift.”

  “To town?”

  “Bridge is out. We got at least three inches today and on top of the two we got yesterday, well … ,” he motioned towards the road. “But I can take you back to the ranch. It’s warm and dry.”

  She frowned at him, distrustful. “I just came from Kansas City.”

  “You probably came down 71, right?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she nodded.

  He shrugged, “Well, you can go back up and hit 71, but you’re not going to get to a hospital until you get back up near the City. Doesn’t look like you’re hurt bad, but you don’t need to be driving after the bump you just got.”

  He did look trustworthy. Not that she was necessarily a good judge of character.

  His lips parted in a grin, showing a gleaming row of white teeth. “Ma’am, I ain’t gonna hurt you. And there’s other folks at the ranch. Not like you’ll be alone with me. It’s miserable out here and I can’t just leave you.”

  She hesitated. What choice did she have? “Okay, let’s go call for help.”

  He reached in and took her by the arm to help her out of the car. Her experience with men was limited to city types, mostly accountants and lawyers. No cowboys that she could recall.

  He held her elbows as he walked just behind her, strong arms helping steady her as they struggled up the rain-slicked grass. Twice she slipped as she made her way up the steep incline, and twice he caught her. The wind howled through the trees. Lightning flashed around them. Quick cracks of thunder told her the strikes were close, the smell of ozone confirmed it. The rain was relentless in its pursuit of them, plastering her shirt to her skin, giving her goosebumps.

  He jerked the passenger door of his truck open and she started to tug herself up, but he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her into the seat. As she looked down at him, she saw her BMW in the ditch. She put out her hand just as he started to shut the door. She gasped, “Wait! My purse. I need my wallet and stuff.”

  “Oh, right,” he looked down towards her car, then back at her with a hint of a grin. “Will you be okay for a minute while I go get it?”

  She nodded, wondering what else he might find when gathering up her stuff. The condom for sure. Anything else embarrassing? He shut the door and slipped back down the bank. The water pouring down the glass distorted everything, lightning created a strobe effect and it all seemed like a dream.

  A frown creased her forehead. Now was not the time to be thinking about a man. She had a job to do and she needed to focus. Her chest rose and fell as she sighed rested her head against the rough tweed cloth of the seat. She needed to remember to tell him to call the people at the Diamond J – they were expecting her.

  She was already late. So much for making a good impression. She snorted. Not the way she wanted to start things off as the new owner.

  Manager, she reminded herself with a frown, not owner. Not yet.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Beau slowed the truck when he spotted the black and white Diamond J Ranch sign swinging in the wind above the entrance to the ranch. He turned into the long, curved drive.

  The whole time, he kept up a running commentary with the woman. She wasn’t hurt too badly, but he still wanted to get her checked out. “With the bridge under water, we’re kinda stranded out here. But if Charlotte thinks you need to go to the hospital, I’ll take you. Have to go about eighteen miles out of the way to go around by the blacktop.” He glanced over and saw that her eyes were closed again, her eyelashes long and wet and dark against her fair skin. He reached across and patted her cheek. “Hey! Miss! Stay with me now!”

  She twitched away from his touch and opened her eyes. She sighed and assured him, “I’m fine. It’s just been a really long day and I am beat.”

  Rain pelted the windshield, blurring the road. The only way he was able to stay on the driveway was by watching the white fencing that flanked it. The woman stared out at the night.

  He kept trying. “When I first saw you back there, you seemed fine. Just a little bump on your head. Pretty lucky for going down a steep ditch like that.”

  “It does hurt a little.” She winced as she touched her forehead. “But I do not have time for this. I’m on a schedule.”

  In the glow of the radio, he could see her long slender fingers splayed across the seat between them. No gold band.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to get you home. I’ll get Charlotte to take a look at you, then I can help you get wherever you need to go.” All he could think about was getting her someplace safe, warm and dry. He didn’t even know her, but something about her made him want to take care of her just like an orphaned foal.

  The white fence disappeared and the headlights swept across the yard, landing on the wide front porch. He swung the truck into a

  space beside the walkway. He turned to the redhead and said, “We’re here.”

  The girl swept some loose curls behind her ear, but a ringlet dropped into her eye. He reached across and tucked her hair behind her ear, then froze, surprised at his own familiarity. Her eyes widened at his touch and he yanked his hand back. She was spookier than a new colt.

  He cleared his throat and motioned towards the black Suburban parked in front of the house. “Miss Charlotte’s probably going to give me a dressing down for moving you.”

  The woman shrugged and said, “It’s okay. I told you I’m fine.”

  The horn battled thunder when he hit it with his fist to alert Charlotte to his presence. “Let’s get you inside and out of this weather.”

  She nodded and grasped the handle, “I’m ready if you are.”

  They opened their doors and for a moment, the dome light shone on her like a spotlight. She squinted in the glare.

  The massive front door swung open. Charlotte’s short, stout figure was outlined in the doorway for a moment as she peered out. Beau jumped out of the Chevy. The woman darted towards the door, beating him to the porch.

  “Charlotte! This woman had an accident out on the blacktop!” he shouted as they dashed through the open doorway.

  The housekeeper swung the door closed behind them, “Get in here. Fine day for young ducks out there!” She swept the stranger towards the bench seat. “Sit, sit. Let’s take a look at you, now.”

  The younger woman protested, but sat. Charlotte leaned close, her hands on her knees, to examine her patient. Beau was relieved to see the cut was really just a scratch. He hurried towards the kitchen without prompting, and returned with a clean dishcloth, slightly damp with cold water in one hand and a couple of fresh towels tucked under his arm.

  When he returned to the foyer, Charlotte was standing up straight with one hand clamped over her mouth, the other perched on her hip like the handle on a teapot. She murmured, “Well, look at you.”

  He stopped beside her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Not a thing,” She turned to him with wide eyes and exclaimed, “This is Elizabeth Jameson!”

  Beau looked, really looked, at the woman he’d rescued. Wisps of red hair escaped from the loose ponytail at the nape of her neck and the wet tendrils stuck to her round face. Freckles dotted her nose and round cheeks. Her pink tongue poked out and licked her full lips slowly. She met his gaze and held it.

  She stood and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He blinked, then took her hand in his. In fairness, he’d only seen her in person once, at the funeral, and she’d been dressed up then. In the photos he’d seen, she looked cold and aloof. This woman seemed, well, warm. Her radiant smile lit up the hallway, even though she was soaked to the skin. She seemed so sweet.

  Then again, she had just whacked her head in a car wreck. Put her in a power suit, tame that hair in a severe bun and she might be one tough customer.

  “You knew my father.” Her
head swiveled as she took in her surroundings. “And this is the Diamond J Ranch.”

  Beau handed her a big, thirsty towel and their fingers touched for just a moment, until he pulled away, breaking the tenuous connection. The woman stared at him expectantly, emerald green eyes wide and unblinking.

  Charlotte elbowed him and he unfroze. She said, “Welcome home, Elizabeth.”

  “Please, call me Beth.” She reached up and touched her forehead. “And thank you for stopping.”

  “Anytime.” He opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any other words. That rarely happened. Especially with members of the fairer sex.

  “This time o’ night and a storm like this, you’re lucky anyone found you.” Charlotte leaned close and looked at the woman’s forehead, then nodded approvingly. “It’s cleaning up just fine. I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but we can sure get you to the hospital if you want.”

  Beth waved her off as she towel dried her hair, “Oh, no. It’ll be fine with a bandage and some antibiotic cream.”

  Charlotte nodded, “Good idea. I’ll go and get some. Back in a flash.”

  Beau stood an arm’s reach from the woman. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her gaze skated around the room, then landed on him. Those wide eyes, like the first tender shoots of green grass that promised spring, were so much more attractive on her than the old man.

  Then he remembered. The old man had left the ranch to his daughter. This woman was taking over the ranch. His heart began to pound at the mere thought of a stranger running the Diamond J.

  Charlotte appeared from the hallway and said, “Coop called ahead and told us to expect you tonight. It was getting late and with the storm and all, I figured you decided to spend the night in Wilder before coming on out to the ranch.”

  Her eyes flitted between him and Charlotte. “You have me at a disadvantage. You both know me, but … ”

  His irritation sparked at the reminder of who she was, at the fact that she didn’t know him. “I’m Beau, the ranch foreman. You would know that if you’d ever bothered to visit your father.”