Read Betting on Texas Online

Authors: Amanda Renee

Betting on Texas (4 page)

“And that didn’t go over well with Jesse’s dad?”

“Langtry men are all stubborn. The whole lot of them. Jesse
despises having anything handed to him.” She plunged the steel wool into the
water. “If he had joined his brothers and taken over Bridle Dance, he wouldn’t
think that was much of an accomplishment.”

“But it’s different. It’s an inheritance.”

Miranda would have given her eyeteeth to have a family. Let
alone one who wanted her to join the family business.

“I know it. But Jesse never saw things that way. And his father
never saw it Jesse’s way. Don’t get me wrong. Jesse respects his brothers for
their decisions, but it wasn’t what he wanted out of life.”

“Sounds like he has something to prove.”

Miranda understood how he felt in that regard. A year of
should haves
and
what ifs
had passed since her mother’s death, combined with a broken engagement,
and she still felt that way
.

“He does. To himself. Jesse wasn’t in the rodeo spotlight like
his three brothers always were. He’s an honest man. Just wants to make a life
for himself. One he can be proud of.”

“I guess it’s noble when you think about it.”

While it wasn’t a choice Miranda would have made, she
understood his reasons, to a certain degree. She always dreamed of what life
would be like if she had been part of a large family instead of the disaster she
came from. Jesse, on the other hand, felt the need to break free from his.

The grass is always greener.

“Jesse demands things his way. His way was buying this ranch.
Years ago, the Carters promised to sell it to him when they retired. He saved
every penny he ever made to buy this place. He was downright devastated when he
lost it.”

“I’m sorry, Mable, but I refuse to feel bad about buying this
place.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Mable stood and rubbed the small of
her back. “I’m just making you aware of why he’s acting the way he is. In the
end, he only wants a family of his own.”

So the cowboy was human.

“Why doesn’t he go back to Bridle Dance now?” Miranda wondered
aloud. “At least for a little while, to regroup. Instead of this new job in
Abilene.”

“Heaven knows his father tried to talk him into it. Jesse even
considered it, for a spell. But like I said, he’s a stubborn one. I’m surprised
he’s agreed to stay on and help you out.”

“He’s staying on for the sake of the animals,” Miranda said.
“Not me.”

“Maybe so. But he’s still here.”

“For the time being.” A deep voice echoed throughout the
kitchen.

Startled, Miranda knocked the bucket of water, sloshing half of
it onto the floor. She scrambled for a roll of paper towels while avoiding any
eye contact with him. She now had more of an appreciation for the man who stood
before her. However, she wasn’t about to let her guard down around him just
yet.

“Instead of eavesdropping,” Mable chided, “go see if you can
find a mop.”

Without a word, Jesse left the kitchen.

Annoyed at the ease with which Jesse unsettled her, Miranda
attempted to soak up the black water. This was crazy.
Why
does this man have such a hold over me?
Whenever he was around, she
was as nervous as a schoolgirl.

“Well, no sense crying over spilt milk,” Mable said, getting to
her feet. “We best head into town and pick up some food.” Mable wiped her hands
on a dish towel. “I’m famished.”

“Don’t let her drive,” Jesse interjected. He was standing there
holding a rope mop like a knight ready to joust. “She’ll take you round in a
circle and back again. You’ll end up starving to death.”

“We’ll have none of that,” Mable chastised him, pushing Miranda
out the door. “Make yourself useful, Jesse. Mop up the floor.”

The woman ignored Jesse’s grumblings while Miranda found it
impossible not to smile. Mable sure could put Jesse in his place at the drop of
a dime.

“I’ll show you where everything is in town,” Mable said as she
turned the key in the ignition of the old car. A loud backfire almost knocked
Miranda out of her seat. “Then tomorrow you can buy yourself something decent to
sleep on.”

“Thank you.”

Miranda hated to admit it, but she was grateful to Jesse for
staying around and bringing Mable to the ranch to help her. Maybe he wasn’t so
heartless after all.

“Mable, I need to talk to you about salary and what I owe you
for the supplies you bought.”

“Not now, child. There will be time enough for money talk later
on.”

“But—”

“I’m staying with my sister until I move back to the ranch,”
Mable interrupted. “Why don’t you bunk with us tonight?”

“Thank you for the offer,” Miranda said. “But I really want to
sleep in my own house. About the money—”

“First house?”

Miranda shook her head and smiled. She could take a hint. She
made a mental note to discuss Mable’s salary in the morning.

“Yes. Something I’ve wanted for a long time. Only I never could
afford it.”

“Come into some money recently?”

“Accidentally, yes.” Miranda stared out the window. Mable
didn’t press further and Miranda didn’t offer. Some things were better left
unsaid. At least for the time being.

Chapter Three

The cool morning air greeted Jesse as he stepped
outside. A few more weeks would bring the onslaught of summer. The Hill
Country’s steady breeze was a blessing throughout the warmer months, keeping the
heat at a tolerable level. Still, Jesse liked to complete any form of hard labor
before the noonday sun.

Outside the foreman’s house, a panting tongue and a wagging
tail greeted him and Jesse bent to scratch the dog behind the ears. Max had been
his ranch hand for the past five years, essential in training the cutting horses
for roundup. His four-legged pal was the only thing around here these days that
didn’t cause him any aggravation.

Speaking of aggravation.

Jesse glanced toward the main house. Mable wouldn’t arrive for
a few more hours. That meant he could spend some time with Miranda, showing her,
firsthand, how hard ranch life truly was.

Dinner the night before went well enough. Mable’s fried
chicken, mashed potatoes and buttermilk gravy were delicious enough to make his
toes curl. A home-cooked meal was one of the many things he missed after the
Carters had died. Every now and then, Mable would stop by the ranch with a plate
of food or his favorite, spicy chocolate-mince pie. She always thought about
everyone else.

Miranda didn’t seem to know what to make of the fried chicken
at first. She picked at it, and then tasted a small piece. After that, there was
no going back. She dove right in and devoured the golden breast. Even licking
her fingers clean.

Didn’t they serve real food in
D.C.?

She disappeared a few times to try to call someone from her
cell phone. When her frustration got the best of her, she joined them on the
front porch. The remainder of the evening, she devoted her full attention to
Mable. Of course, she paid no mind to him whatsoever. It was as if he weren’t
even there.

Mable recounted the ranch’s history and told stories about some
of Ramblewood’s quirkier residents. Like the time Karen Johnson woke to Charlie
Slater’s prize mule braying in her bedroom window after it escaped its corral.
Or when the old timers broke into the Ramblewood jail in the middle of the night
and locked themselves in cells, with their horses, protesting the No Horses on
Main Street law. The law was quickly reversed.

While Miranda was leery of some things, she laughed until she
cried at others. Jesse wasn’t sure if she believed half of what she heard.
Nonetheless, she seemed to enjoy herself.

Miranda did need a lesson or two about the ways of the
residents in these parts. Mable informed him she was none too friendly toward
the townsfolk at the grocery store. He could only assume the people in D.C. were
not a welcoming lot, judging by her amazement at Mable alone. This, too, could
work to his advantage.

“Might as well wake up Little Miss Ray of Sunshine.” Max barked
in agreement and ran up the porch stairs. Dawn was on the horizon and there were
chores to do.

Jesse bounded up the stairs and tried the knob. Locked. He
peered through the window and made out a motionless sleeping bag. He could have
given her one of the mattresses from the bunkhouse like Mable asked him to
before she left. But it would have made things too easy on her. Heck, he already
did her a favor by hiring Mable.

You did yourself that favor,
pal.

He knocked on the door. Nothing.

“Miranda!” he hollered. The sleeping bag stirred and then went
still again. “Miranda!”

Miranda shot upright and scanned the room. After she spotted
Jesse, he saw she was none too thrilled to have him as her first vision of the
day.

She struggled with the zipper on the sleeping bag. Unable to
open it, she hopped to her feet and slid the bag down around her ankles. When
she attempted to step out of it, she tripped and fell to the floor.

Jesse held his laughter as he watched Miranda kick the bag. She
leaped to her feet and tried to gain what composure she had left. She limped to
the door and opened it.

“What time is it?” Miranda peered out on the porch. “It’s not
even light out.”

She wore yellow flannel boxer shorts and a white cotton
T-shirt. Her hair was wild and skin free of any makeup. Her legs seemed endless
and her shirt accentuated the rise and fall of her breasts.

Miranda followed his gazed and folded her arms across her
chest, feigning a shiver.

Beautiful or not, if he was ever going to get her off the ranch
he needed to work her to death. Once she had a good dose of daily life on Double
Trouble, she would pack up and head home in no time.

“Rise and shine, sugar.” Jesse took off his hat as he entered
the kitchen. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

The kitchen was spotless. Miranda had completely stripped the
wax from the floor and reapplied a fresh coat. A coffeemaker and freestanding
electric mixer replaced the boxes on the counter. She must have gone back to
work when he and Mable left for the night.

“Get dressed and we’ll head out.”

Miranda faced him, bewildered. She shook her head, turned and
went into the living room. For a moment, he thought she was about to lie down
and go back to sleep. Instead, she grabbed a duffel bag from the floor, dragged
some clothes out of it and headed to the bathroom without so much as a word.

A few moments later, she emerged, freshly scrubbed and her hair
tied up in a ponytail. When she put on a pair of old sneakers, Jesse tried to
hide his amusement.

“Yes, I know. I should have listened to you and worn different
shoes yesterday. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“I didn’t say a word.” Jesse grinned.

“Your look says it all.” Miranda stood and smoothed her hands
over her jeans. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“First, we need to turn the horses out,” Jesse said as he led
her through the door. Max greeted her with a playful bark. “Then we need to do
some maintenance on one of the stalls.”

“Turn the horses out?” Miranda questioned over her shoulder,
almost missing the first porch step.

“Watch it.” Jesse caught her arm before she fell. “You
certainly aren’t the most graceful of creatures are you?”

“What do you mean ‘turn the horses out’?” she repeated,
ignoring his insult.

“I mean putting them in the pasture over there so they can
graze and exercise. Grazing prevents colic. It’s something I need to teach you
to watch for.”

“I thought only babies got colic.”

“Sugar, you have a lot to learn.” Jesse laughed.

Priceless
was the only way to
describe her puzzled expression. Jesse placed his hand on the small of her back
as he escorted her across the yard. The simple act shot heat through him like a
lightning bolt.

Sure, he had touched plenty of women in much more intimate
places. They just never affected him this way. Not only was it a feeling he
wasn’t used to, it was one he never expected. Especially with the woman who
stole his ranch.

This is going to be a long day.

Since his bossiness didn’t yield the results he’d expected
yesterday, he decided to take a gentler approach today, similar to the one he
used when training horses. He’d break her in slowly, offering a reward here and
there.

“Tell you what. Let’s get the horses situated and then head
into town for some breakfast.”

He might as well take her to Mayfield’s to buy a bed while he
was at it.
I wouldn’t mind taking one for a little test
drive, either.
Miranda didn’t take too kindly to the suggestion
yesterday. After waking her up at the crack of dawn, he didn’t think she would
take too kindly to it now. It didn’t stop him from envisioning himself waking up
beside her.

What the heck has come over me?

To clear his mind, Jesse taught Miranda how to halter a horse.
With General Lee as his guinea pig, he demonstrated the right and wrong way to
approach a horse. Once he felt she understood, he let her practice.

After she faltered a few times, he stood behind her, guiding
her arms with his. The softness of her hands combined with the vanilla scent of
her hair almost sent him into a tailspin. This was supposed to clear his
mind?

What was I thinking?

After a few attempts, Miranda got the hang of it. Still visibly
intimidated by the horse’s size, she led him from his stall. Once she led her
third horse to pasture, her shoulders were back and a hint of a smile began to
appear.

“That was so incredible!” Miranda said as she closed the corral
gate for the last horse. “They follow me wherever I lead them.”

“You wait,” Jesse warned. “It’s not all fun and games around
here. This was the easiest part of your day. Come on. Let’s get some
breakfast.”

Miranda tossed Jesse the keys to her truck.

“Oh, you must be daffy if you’re allowing me to drive your
precious chariot.”

Miranda stuck her tongue out as she got in the passenger seat.
As childish as it was, Jesse found the gesture charming. Under other
circumstances, he would have asked her out on a date. She was determined and so
far, proved herself a hard worker. All qualities he wanted in a woman. One
little flaw got in his way. She stole his ranch.

As he drove into town, she pulled a notepad out of the center
console. He couldn’t believe it. Miranda was taking notes, counting streets and
houses. She was obviously determined not to get herself lost the next time she
ventured out on her own.

“Stop here!” Miranda shrieked, almost causing Jesse to drive
off the road.

Before the truck came to a complete stop, Miranda had the door
open. She jumped down and sprinted toward the furniture at a yard sale on the
side of the road.

“I love it!” Miranda cried as she ran her hand over the old
dresser. “How much?”

No please! No furniture! You’re not
staying long enough to warrant furniture. You only need a bed.

Miranda’s purchases at the yard sale included a dresser, an
iron bed frame, a sideboard, a few rocking chairs and a buffet.

“We have to return for the buffet and the chairs,” Jesse
groaned. “There’s no more room in the truck.”

Jesse inwardly fumed. There was plenty to do at the ranch and
they had already killed a good portion of the morning. The last thing he wanted
to do today was move a bunch of furniture around. He would have figured her the
type who wanted new things, not pieces in dire need of refinishing. Frustration
began to set in. He wanted her out of Ramblewood and fast. Yet here she was,
nesting like a mother bird.

“It’s all right, Jesse,” Beau Bradley said. “Aaron and I will
drop them by the ranch later on. It’s good seeing someone in the old Carter
place again.”

“No comment.” Jesse held his tongue to keep from speaking his
true feelings on the subject. “You sure you want to be saddled lugging this
stuff over?”

“No trouble at all.”

Jesse didn’t want the old man to overexert himself. Which he
had a tendency to do on most occasions.

“Thanks!” Miranda beamed.

“Anytime.” Beau tipped his hat and waved goodbye.

Back on course, Jesse steered the truck onto the main road and
headed toward town.

“Where are you going?” Miranda looked through the rear window
at her purchases. “We need to unload the truck.”

“After we eat and buy a bed.”

“But someone will steal it!” Miranda’s breath quickened.

“Steal what?” Jesse shot her a sidelong glance.

“My furniture!” She pointed out the window. “It’s sitting
there, in the open.”

“Not around here they won’t.” Jesse laughed. “Listen, if you’re
going to live here, you best get yourself accustomed to our way of life. People
here are friendly. They lend a hand to one another. No one even locks their
doors at night. There’s no need to worry about anyone stealing your furniture.
What do you want with this stuff, anyway? It all needs to be refinished.”

“I know. I can’t wait to get started.” Miranda looked gleeful
at the prospect.

“You?” Jesse asked in disbelief. “What do you know about wood
refinishing?”

“Plenty.” Miranda jutted her chin in the air. “I read all about
it in a magazine.”

He laughed. Instead of arguing with him, she turned on the
radio, drowning out any possibility of a conversation. From the corner of his
eye, he watched Miranda mouth the words to the Tim McGraw song. The girl did her
homework. He wondered if they even had country music in D.C.

Miranda hesitated when he stopped the truck in front of The
Magpie. The redbrick luncheonette didn’t look like an intimidating place to him
with its white vinyl bird cutouts that decorated the large picture window. But
something was causing her to hesitate. Then he realized she was still worried
about her furniture.

“Give it a rest, Miranda.” Jesse held the door open to the
luncheonette. “No one will steal your precious furniture.”

All eyes were on Miranda as she walked through the door. It was
very obvious everyone had heard Jesse’s comment. He was as embarrassed as she
was right about now.

He led her to a booth, exchanging a few pleasantries along the
way. The luncheonette was small. Four booths lined one wall, with a handful of
tables close by. Originally a bakery, owner Maggie Dalton chose the name The
Magpie after her husband had vetoed the name Maggie’s Buns. Over the years, The
Magpie grew into a place where some folks ate every meal. It was the spot to go
to catch up on Ramblewood’s latest gossip.

Or witness it, as the case may be
today.

“Well, hello there, Jesse.”

A stunning redhead winked as she set two cups of coffee and a
creamer on the table. Her short pink uniform and white apron accentuated her
slender figure. As many times as he’d asked Bridgett out, she’d always turned
him down flat.

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