Chapter 9 Beau
BEAU
I watch Coco from the corner of my eye as I lead Duke from his stall. She stands stock-still, her body tense. Nothing like we were tangled in that kiss. Her shoulders are rigid, jaw tight, her fear obvious even if she doesn’t give voice to it.
Whatever happened to her must’ve been bad, but she’s too stubborn to admit defeat. That’s a point in my favor. If she trusts me, then maybe I can help her trust Duke, too. Show her that not all men, or horses, are cut from the same cloth.
“Tell me again why we can’t just buy a Christmas tree?” Her eyes dart to Duke. “There’s a vendor outside of the hardware store with plenty of tall, bushy ones.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I tighten the cinch strap. “Tradition’s ridin’ out and findin’ the perfect one.”
Her brow arches. “And you think you can find the perfect one?”
“Maybe I already have.” I grin.
Her laugh fogs the air.
I chuckle. “C’mon. Let me help you up.”
She’s wary but game as I help her into the saddle.
I’m proud of her for not giving into fear.
I swing up behind her, leather creaking beneath us as Duke shifts his weight.
She flinches and grabs the saddle horn. My arms frame hers as I take the reins, and damn if she doesn’t feel right pressed against me.
“Easy,” I murmur near her ear. “He won’t bolt.”
“I’ve heard that before.” Her voice trembles just enough to break me a little.
The evening air’s sharp enough to bite, smelling of pine and distant smoke.
The sky’s pale blue and quiet as the sun begins its slow descent.
Coco’s quiet as we ride, but soon her body relaxes, finding the rhythm of Duke’s gait.
He plods over the frosted trail, easy as and slow as if he knows she’s settling in.
“It was a few years ago,” she says at last. “A group of us thought it’d be fun to go riding. I’d never been. Didn’t know what I was doing. This guy I liked—way out of my league, never gave me the time of day—thought it would be funny to rile my horse. It bolted and I couldn’t stop it.”
She pauses, but I keep quiet, giving her time.
“He rounded a corner at full speed, and I flew off, hit the ground hard and slid several feet on rocks and gravel,” she continues. “Tore up my leg. Broke my arm. Was laid up for six months.”
Heat flares in my gut like wildfire. My hands tighten over the reins, angry at the dumbass who didn’t respect her.
“The guy never apologized. Said it was about time someone knocked me off my high horse.” Her laugh’s brittle. “And maybe he was right.”
“The hell he wasn’t,” I snap before I can stop myself.
She twists to look back at me. “I should have known better.”
“He’s the one who was out of his league. Not you. If a man’s ego can’t handle a strong woman, he’s either an idiot or a dumbass—maybe both. A decent man wouldn’t put anyone in that situation, and sure as hell not a woman.”
“Thank you.” She leans back into me, her shoulders resting against my chest. Then quietly, “He broke my heart and my faith in human decency.”
That just about guts me. I hold her closer, wishing I could take every bad thing out of this world just for her.
“What about you?” She asks after a while. “What’s your story. I hear you were some kind of big shot with a bunch of fancy rodeo buckles.”
“You did, did you?” I chuckle low against her temple, nudging Duke toward a clearing ahead. “All true about the buckles but wouldn’t go so far as a big shot.”
“Yeah? Why’d you quit?”
“Didn’t quit. Retired.” I correct her. “Just plain tired with all of it. Chasing the circuit, wearing out my body, and realizing most people didn’t give a damn about me.”
“You had groupies.” Her laugh warms my heart.
“A few.” Every damn rodeo. Every damn town. “Couldn’t get away fast enough. All I wanted was quiet. A place where nobody knew my name. Frosty Pines gave me that.”
She turns her face slightly; her cheek brushes my jaw. “And you still agreed to host the Holiday Hoedown.”
“Guess peace and quiet’s overrated. And you’re hard to say no to.” I tighten my arms around her just enough to make her laugh again—a sound I’ll take over applause any day.
“Ooh, there’s a good one.” She straightens, pointing to a tall spruce dusted with snow. “Think we can haul it back.”
“Positive.” I swing down and offer her a hand. “C’mon. I’ll cut it. You can supervise.”
She takes my hand and swings her leg over the saddle.
My palms glide up her thighs to her hips, and she steadies herself with hands on my shoulders.
She slides easily into my arms, our bodies aligning like we’re made for each other.
I knew we were the first night I saw her slinging whiskey at the bar.
She looks up at me and loops her arms around my neck; eyes bright, lips parted. I almost kiss her, but once we start, I won’t want to stop. It’s late and too damn cold to get stranded in the dark.
“Let’s get that beauty home before dark.” I say, before my common sense goes on the fritz.
“Good thinking.”
I hand her the reins. She eyes them warily. “He won’t go anywhere, but he likes company.”
She nods, fingers wrapping around the leather. I grab the hatchet from my saddlebag and make quick work of felling the tree. Duke snorts and stamps a foot as the tree hits the snow, sending a poof of powder in the air.
“Easy, boy.” Coco cautiously pats his shoulder. “Just a few more minutes.”
I grab the base of the tree and drag it toward them, a grin spreading across my face. That’s my girl—brave, finding her footing again. And damn she’s got me thinkin’ about trading in the peace and quiet I craved, for someone to share it with.