The Bridal Path: Sara (3 page)

“You don’t scare me,” she insisted.

“I may not, but a thousand pounds or so of spitting-mad bull ought to give you pause,” he suggested. She did lose a little color at that, but her eyes flashed with grim determination.

“Will you or won’t you?” she demanded as if he hadn’t already given her a straight answer.

Jake was realizing for the first time that Sara Wilde was the kind of irritating woman who heard only what she wanted to hear and kept needling until she got an answer twisted around to her way of thinking.

“I won’t.” He hoped the flat, unequivocal statement left absolutely no room for negotiation.

He regarded her curiously. “Where did you come up with such a screwball idea?” he asked, genuinely puzzled by the out-of-the-blue proposition. Women had been making outrageous and indecent offers to him since the day he won his first rodeo title, but not one of them had ever suggested trying to outride him on the back of a mean old bull.

Of course, Sara Wilde wasn’t like most other women. He’d known that the moment he’d set eyes on her. She’d been barely seventeen back then and she’d had audacity to spare. To Jake’s private amusement, not a single one of Trent Wilde’s attempts to tame her had had any effect. Her sweet, ladylike mother had been totally flummoxed by her out-of-control daughter.

At one point, Trent had threatened to send Sara off to some fancy finishing school where she’d learn manners and social graces. Sara had responded by stealing a horse and hiding out in the wilderness for an entire weekend on her own. Trent had been so relieved when she’d sauntered back into the house unharmed that he’d dropped the notion of sending her away.

When she’d reluctantly gone off to a nice sedate college, Trent had breathed a sigh of relief. He’d evidently figured a few years in the world of academia would accomplish what he hadn’t been able to. At the very least he’d been counting on her to make a good match and become some other man’s headache. His bewildered expression when she’d returned home, unchanged and unmarried, had kept Jake entertained for days.

Jake understood that kind of grit and determination better than most. He had a willful streak of his own that was a mile wide. It had served him well so far. He won most arguments, whether he started them or not.

But then again, like Trent, he’d never butted heads with anyone quite like Sara before. Even now, she was trying to stare him down, undaunted by his flat refusals.

“I want Three-Stars,” she said bluntly. “So do you. There’s only one way I can see to settle it. If I stay on that bull longer than you, then the ranch is mine. You back off and tell Daddy you have other plans for the rest of your life. Go steal somebody else’s land out from under them.”

“Have you mentioned to your daddy how badly you want the ranch?” he asked.

“Every weekday and twice on Sundays since I hit my teens,” she responded with a shrug of resignation. “Daddy doesn’t listen to anything that doesn’t suit him. You might have noticed that about him.”

He had. Trent had a mind of his own and very little interfered with his decisions once they were made. Jake had learned to jump into his boss’s thinking process early, when he still had half a chance to sway him. Sara clearly had waited too late, though it seemed likely that Trent had reached this particular decision long before Jake’s arrival. Chances were he’d reached it the minute he’d realized he was never going to have a son to whom he could leave his beloved ranch.

Outnumbered by the unexpected number of women in his life, Trent had always viewed Jake as a surrogate son who could help to even the odds in his out-of-balance household.

“Have you told him the lengths to which you’re willing to go to keep Three-Stars?” Jake asked.

She shrugged, her expression as resigned as her tone. “It wouldn’t make any difference. I figure it’s between you and me now.”

Jake wasn’t willing to let her break her neck
and
lose the ranch. There had to be another way to get her to back off, especially since he had no intention of giving up the land he’d been intent on buying since the day he first set foot on it.

Three-Stars meant more to him than it possibly could to the daughter of Trent Wilde. She’d had a lifetime of privilege. He’d been born to a shiftless father and a drunken mother. Success on the rodeo circuit had given him money and fame, but not the one thing he truly craved…respectability.

“Let’s talk about this,” he said casually, as if he were giving the idea thoughtful consideration in the face of her determination. “Have you considered the possibility that you could lose?”

Her chin rose a defiant notch. “Not really.”

“Well, it is a possibility,” he said, figuring if he ought to acknowledge the million-to-one outside chance that she could win, then she’d better at least consider the dead-on certainty that she would lose, not just the bet, but very likely her life. He decided to start small and work up to the big stuff such as breaking her neck.

“It would be pretty humiliating,” he pointed out.

“Maybe you’re the one who should be worrying about humiliation,” she shot right back. “Being beat by a woman would ruin what’s left of your reputation with the rodeo set. They’d probably make you give back all those fancy buckles, maybe even take you out of the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame.”

“Not likely.” He studied her intently. “So, what’s in it for me, if I win?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “If you win, and that’s a big
if,
” she said with cocky confidence, “you get to keep the ranch.”

“By tomorrow I’ll have a signed contract to buy the ranch,” Jake pointed out. “I don’t have to climb on another bull and risk breaking a few more of my bones to keep it.”

That seemed to throw her. She blinked up at him. “Isn’t owning the ranch free and clear of any claim from me enough?”

“Like I said, it’s already mine.”

“I could tie it up in court for years, claim you exerted undue influence on my father,” she argued.

“Then you’d have to prove he was incompetent to make the decision to sell. Are you prepared to go into court and declare that?”

That silenced her, at least temporarily. Trent might be an ornery old cuss, but no court in Wyoming would find him loony.

Jake doubted Sara was ready to give up, though. As he waited for the other shoe to drop, an outrageous idea popped into his head, one that ought to send her scrambling to put an end to this entire scheme. If he’d been terrified she intended to try to seduce the ranch away from him, how would she feel if he upped the ante to include her? Scared spitless, no doubt.

He regarded her thoughtfully, “Of course, if you cared to up the stakes a little…”

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “How?”

He paused as if to ponder the possibilities, then suggested, “First, I’ll give you a break. We’ll ride broncs, not bulls.”

“I don’t want any breaks,” she insisted.

“Believe me, staying on a bucking bronc for eight seconds will be challenging enough for your spirit of adventure,” he said dryly.

Her gaze was fixed on him as if she already guessed there was a catch. He didn’t disappoint her. He smiled. “And if I win, I get the ranch…and you.”

She stared at him blankly. “Me?”

“Marriage,” he explained patiently.

That ought to scare the bejesus out of her, he thought, even as his own pulse bucked unexpectedly at the prospect. He wasn’t the marrying kind, though it struck him that marriage to a woman like Sara Wilde might not be all bad. She’d certainly be full of surprises, no doubt about that.

He called a quick halt to that line of thinking and waited for her to gasp with dismay, blister him for even considering such an insulting proposal, maybe turn tail and flee.

She did none of those things. Instead, after giving the proposal several minutes of thoughtful consideration, she looked him straight in the eye and nodded. “It’s a deal,” she said quietly.

Then, before he could gather his wits, she turned and walked away, leaving him to wonder just which one of them had gumption and which one was the fool.

* * *

Jake was still cursing his impulsiveness when dawn came. Why hadn’t he seen that Sara wanted Three-Stars so badly she would have sold her soul to the devil to keep it? He should have recognized that kind of desperation. He’d felt it often enough himself. The truth was, he had seen it. He just hadn’t wanted to deal with it. He’d hoped Trent would do it for him. He should have known better. Trent had given up trying to make sense of his daughters long ago. According to local lore, he hadn’t had control of any of them since they were toddlers.

So, if he couldn’t count on Trent to intervene, Jake figured he would just have to set things right first thing this morning before the whole idiotic plan got out of hand. Nobody was going to be riding broncos. And, sure as hell, nobody was getting married. The very thought made him shudder. His one close brush with the prospect had ended in pure disaster and had nearly cost him his life as well as his career.

Then an image of Sara, silhouetted against his fire the night before, came to mind. He wondered if her skin would be as soft as it appeared, if it would heat at his touch, as his had at hers. He wondered what all that spirit and energy would be like in bed, channeled into wicked, passionate lovemaking.

He cut off that line of thinking before he made himself crazy, so crazy that he would consider going through with the bet just to find out the answers to those questions and all the others that had been plaguing him since he’d found Sara in his house the night before.

Driven by a need to get this resolved, he showered and dressed in record time and headed for the main house, praying he would catch Sara alone. She was often up before her father, as eager to get a start on the day’s work as Jake was.

Luck, for once, was on his side. She was seated at the dining room table, an omelet and toast before her, untouched by the look of them. Her appetite was one of the things Jake admired about her. She didn’t choose cautiously and pick daintily at her food like most women, who started the day with grapefruit and dry toast. Sara worked hard and ate heartily.

Today, though, it looked as if she might be off her feed. Maybe she was having the same sort of second thoughts about their bargain that he was. It would make things easier.

“Your father around?” Jake asked.

“Actually he went out early this morning,” she said, pushing her food around on her plate without tasting it. “He said he had some chores in town.”

“Your food’s getting cold,” Jake commented as he scooped up a healthy serving of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast for himself from the buffet breakfast left by the housekeeper. “Something wrong?”

Cool green eyes rose to clash with his. “What could possibly be wrong?”

“I thought maybe you’d had time to think about what we discussed last night and reached the same conclusion I have.”

“And what would that be?”

“That we were both talking a lot of foolishness. You’re not going to stay on a bronco for eight seconds and I’m not about to marry you.”

She leaned forward. “Are you saying you don’t intend to honor our deal?”

“I’m saying we shouldn’t go through with it. Let’s drop it now, before you get hurt. Last night you were angry. You acted impulsively. I’m sure you regret getting in over your head.” Even as the last words spilled from his mouth, Jake realized he’d made a terrible miscalculation. She did not appreciate his attempt at conciliation.

She stood slowly, every magnificent inch of her radiating indignation. “Don’t you dare take that condescending tone with me. I knew exactly what I was doing last night,” she declared. “The bet is on, Jake Dawson, unless you’re too cowardly to go through with it.”

The scrambled eggs on his plate were beginning to taste like rubber. Jake slammed down his fork and scowled at her. “Okay, fine. You want to break that pretty little neck of yours, let’s do it.” He rose and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To make the arrangements.”

Her eyes widened. “Right now?”

“Why wait? There’s no time better than the present,” he said. “You have a problem with that?”

She shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Well, actually, I had another date in mind.”

“When would that be?”

“A few weeks. A couple of months, maybe.”

Jake walked back to her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Getting cold feet?”

“No,” she snapped back at once, but she avoided looking directly at him. “It’s just that I’ll need a little practice.”

The admission came as no surprise to Jake, but it clearly cost her to make it.

“Gee, I thought you were ready to take me on now, get this settled once and for all.” He cupped her chin and looked directly into her eyes. “You’ve broken a horse, haven’t you, Sara?”

“Of course. You taught me how.”

“Is that what made you think you could win a bet like this?” he asked. “Because if that’s it, let me tell you, you don’t know the half of it. You’re going to spend more time on your butt in the dirt than you ever imagined possible. If you’re damned lucky, you won’t get trampled in the process.”

He forced himself to gentle his angry tone. “There’s no shame in taking a good, hard look at reality and deciding maybe this is a bad idea.”

“I don’t have a choice,” she said with an air of weary resignation. “There is no other way. You’ve made that clear.”

Jake almost felt sorry for her, but not sorry enough to tell her father that their deal for the ranch was off. Oh, he could walk away from Sara’s challenge, just flat out refuse to play the game she’d devised, but everyone deserved a fighting chance to achieve a dream, didn’t they? She needed to know she’d done everything she could if she was going to move on with her life once the ranch was his and his alone.

At least he wouldn’t hold her to marriage, when she lost. Suggesting it truly had been a bit of lunacy on his part. Agreeing to it had only shown the depths of her desperation. They were as ill-suited as any two people on the face of the earth could be. There was no point in making two people miserable until the end of time, just because he’d lost his head for a minute.