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“Where are your parents?”
Charlotte folded the end of her pizza and shoved the whole thing into her mouth. Beau couldn’t help it then; he laughed. She simply gaped at him with wide eyes, and through his chuckles, he said, “At least I know your tell now.”
“What?” she asked around the pizza. Somehow, he even found that attractive.
Beau told himself to get control of his hormones. He simply hadn’t had a woman in his cabin in a long time. Especially not one as pretty as Charlotte.
He shook the thought from his head. “When you don’t want to talk, you take a big bite.”
She covered her mouth with her hand as she swallowed. “That is not true.”
“Then where are your parents?” He threw up a prayer that they hadn’t died. He’d been good enough friends with Mason that he’d like to think if one of his parents had died, Beau would’ve gotten a phone call.
“My folks and other brothers are in San Antonio,” she said. “I didn’t want to go back there.”
“Why not?”
“Felt like moving backward,” she said, her gaze darting all over his kitchen. Ah, another tell. Something about San Antonio plagued her, but Beau told himself he didn’t have to know all the answers today.
And that was him thinking he’d get to see Charlotte again, and he didn’t even know if that was true. So he backpedaled and reached to tap awake his phone. He’d compiled a list of questions for that afternoon’s interviews, and he caught sight of one.
“Have you ever worked in management before?”
“Yes,” she said without missing a beat.
“How so?” He looked at her. “Before the nannying?”
“No, inside the nannying. You try getting four kids out the door for school when they start at different times, everyone wants something different for breakfast, and half the children can’t find their shoes.” She cocked her eyebrows at him, and Beau had exactly zero experience with children, so he couldn’t argue.
He’d known plenty of kids over the years, but he hadn’t taken care of any of them for longer than ten minutes, so he said, “Fair enough. What other qualities do you have that would be good for a Stable Manager?”
“I’m detail-oriented,” she said. “So I’ll set a schedule with those equines, and they’ll love me for it. I’m an early riser, so you’ll never have to wonder if breakfast will be on time. I love to ride as much as I like brushing down the horses, cleaning tack, and dressing wounds, so the horses will never be bored, wounded, hurt, alone, or dirty.”
“No one ever wants a dirty horse.” Beau gave her a smile she did not return.
“I’m sure you’re joking,” she said. “Because no, once horses are done with their work, they should be treated right, and that includes proper hygiene.”
“Horse hygiene,” he said.
“Exactly.” She picked up her second slice of pizza and took a normal-sized bite. She possessed confidence when talking about horses, that was for sure.
Beau polished off his third piece and dusted his hands. “Okay, Miss Wisenhouer,” he said. “I have four more interviews this afternoon. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
Her face fell, but she nodded. After she swallowed, she said, “Yes, sir.” It didn’t take long after that for her to help him clean up by putting her plate in the sink and heading out. Beau waved to her from the front door, everything inside him wanting to ask her to dinner.
But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t. Maybe if he met someone better than her for the job that afternoon, when he called and broke the bad news, he could ask her out then. “And if she’s the best person for the job?” he asked himself as Charlotte disappeared between the barn and the stable. A parking lot sat on the other side of the structures, and she’d surely parked there.
Beau went back inside the house, and he quickly texted the other four applicants about a change of venue for the interviews. He could do them in the conference room at the administration building.
That way, the soft, feminine scent of Charlotte’s skin wouldn’t get erased as quickly from his cabin.
About quitting time, Beau knocked on Squire Ackerman’s door. It stood open, and the owner of the ranch glanced up from his laptop. “Yep, Beau.”
“I think I’ve found us a great Stable Manager.”
Squire leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. He yawned, and Beau reminded himself that he wasn’t that much younger than Squire. His oldest had already completed a year at Baylor University, and Beau would never quite measure up to the other cowboy.
“Come in,” he said.
