Betting on Texas
From where she stood, the ranch seemed endless. It was a magnificent piece of land—the photographs hadn’t done it justice. There was a small cottage behind the house, nestled amongst dogwoods. From beyond the white pasture fencing, fields of wildflowers faded into a copse of trees. A couple of bungalows stood alongside a dirt road that ran through the pastures, toward the hills. The ranch seemed to roll with the landscape. She understood why Jesse was so protective of someone turning it into a housing development. The Hill Country was all she dreamed of and more.
Jesse stood beside her as he took in the same view. When Miranda turned to face him she noticed his features darkened by sadness. She found herself stumbling for words to comfort him in some small way.
“It really is beautiful here,” she said.
The wall between them needed to come down so they could work together. Miranda thought their mutual admiration for the land was a good start.
“Yes, it is. As long as you don’t ruin it.”
So much for that idea.
“Once again, I’m not going to ruin it. Give me a break, will you? I came here for some peace of mind.”
“Peace of mind? What’s been stressing you out, sugar?” Jesse eyed her top to bottom. “Your shopping sprees? Bet you’re still using Daddy’s credit cards to buy everything. You wouldn’t know the meaning of an honest day’s work if it bit you on the—”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t beg, sugar. It doesn’t become you. Now come on, we have work to do.”
Miranda went with him, willingly this time, toward the stables. He removed a wheelbarrow and shovel from a storage room and pushed it toward her.
“Start with the first stall and work your way around. Shovel it completely out, down to the floor. Old bedding goes in the large green container out back for composting. We use the last stall on the left to store fresh bedding. Open five bags in the stall and spread it around till you have about a two-inch depth. I’ll check in on you later and show you how to wet the bedding to fluff it up. Good luck. You’ll need it.”
* * *
JESSE KEPT HIS LAUGHTER in check until he’d turned the last horse out in the corral. He’d never seen a woman so rip-roaring mad in all his life. After her hissy fit, she’d settled down and got to work mucking the stalls. She had to learn the ropes somehow.
He had to admit, even with all the aggravation she caused him, he sure did enjoy the sway of her hips when she walked and the way her hair fell free, to the middle of her back. She was a looker. There was no doubt about it.
Jesse knew the instant Miranda climbed from her truck, the name Double Trouble finally rung true. She was shapelier than a Coke bottle and had green eyes the color of spring leaves. A woman like her could only make a man’s life difficult. And she’d proven to be no exception so far.
Not only had he lost everything, he’d lost it to a beautiful blonde. But there was something different about her. She possessed such a deep self-confidence yet her face reflected a loneliness that reminded him of a child on the first day of a new school.
When Fran Carter’s sister put the ranch up for sale, Jesse was livid. He’d offered Caroline more than a fair price for the place. Nevertheless, she had been determined to get all she could for it.
It didn’t matter one iota that Fran and Ed Carter had spoken at great length about their intentions to sell Double Trouble to Jesse. They treated him like a son and Jesse considered himself blessed to have a second family. While the Carters enjoyed the ranch, the house had needed more and more repairs. They were tired and wanted a stress-free retirement in a smaller house near town. Then tragedy had struck.
Though Caroline had been devastated by her sister’s and brother-in-law’s deaths, when it came to the ranch all Caroline could see were dollar signs. From her Seattle home, she’d arranged the sale of the antiques and most of the furniture only two days after Fran’s funeral. Assuming the ranch would run itself she didn’t realize half of what Jesse brought in training horses was his to keep. Combined with the vet and feed bills, Double Trouble cut into her bottom line. Thanks to Jesse spreading the word around town not to buy the horses and cattle, she gave up and left them to the new owner.
After Jesse had forgone his father’s offer to work on his family’s ranch when he graduated high school, the Carters had hired him. Despite the fact he loved his family and respected his brothers’ decisions to work there, he didn’t want anything handed to him.
Bridle Dance was his great-grandfather’s legacy. And while he was proud of his family, Jesse wanted a legacy of his own. Now fifteen years later, he had to walk away from what he believed would have been his.
Just when he thought his time on Double Trouble was over, he had to contend with Miranda. The sight of her stepping out of that new truck made his blood boil. The woman didn’t know one end of a bull from the other. Now she owned his ranch. The last thing he wanted was to witness the destruction of the place he loved.
Common decency told him to show her enough to get by. Help her hire a foreman and then be on his way. Another part told him to stay in case she floundered and decided to hotfoot it back home.
If her expensive jeans and new boots were any indication, there was no way she could handle running a ranch. If his instincts were right, maybe Double Trouble would be his after all.
A girl like her wasn’t used to this type of life but she was about to learn the gritty details. And maybe, just maybe, she would realize this was not for her.
A few hours later, Jesse checked in on Miranda. He expected to see one, maybe two stalls mucked. Instead, he was amazed to see every stall clean and freshly bedded.
He gave her credit. It couldn’t have been easy for her, but she accomplished it anyway. Jesse had to admire her tenacity.
Jesse found Miranda behind the stables, rubbing her feet through the leather of her boots. His dog, Max, who was apparently not man’s best friend, was wagging his tail as he sat beside her. Traitor. He hurried inside before she saw him. He whistled a Western tune to warn her he was around the corner.
“Here you are,” Jesse said as Miranda wobbled to her feet. “I see you met Max. For the record, he doesn’t come with the ranch.”
“It’s all finished.” Wisps of hair fell from her makeshift ponytail. Dust and sweat covered her chest and arms. She looked as though she was ready to drop. On the other hand, maybe it was the guaranteed blisters on her feet that were making her face scrunch up as it did. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to see my house.”
Jesse let her get halfway to the porch before he called to her.
“You best be careful where you wander off to.” Jesse warned. “You never know who or what might be prowling around here.”
Miranda spun around, her eyes wide.
“Don’t look so surprised.” Jesse feigned concern. “This is Texas, after all. We have snakes and all sorts of wild animals around these parts. Never mind what the livestock will do if provoked.”
Miranda eyed him warily as he walked toward her.
“Remember the old saying,” he whispered in her hair as he brushed past her. “You mess with the bull, and you’re going to get horned.”
The corner of her mouth rose in a sly smile.
“Be careful, cowboy,” she said as she continued to her house. “You just may be the one to get horned.”
Jesse caught her elbow before she could go inside.
“Listen, little girl.” He encircled her waist and drew her close. “Watch it before you get yourself in a whole heap of trouble.”
Miranda didn’t break her gaze, she matched it. Tiny droplets formed above her lip. He’d gamble those lips tasted salty right about now. Before he lost complete control, Jesse stepped aside.
She attempted a smile, but fatigue won out. Jesse hadn’t considered how long she had driven to get here. From the looks of her, all night. He felt like a heel. He bossed her around for half the day and didn’t even allow her to see her house.
“Are there any more chores or may I be excused?” Miranda stood with a look of defiance he had never seen before.
Except maybe in a mirror.
“Go in and see your new house.” Jesse kicked at some hay. “Get yourself settled and grab something to eat. I’ll finish up out here.”
Miranda didn’t protest. She limped past him, toward the porch.
The urge was too great for him to resist. “I told you those new boots were going to be a killer.”
Miranda stopped. He half expected her to give him another tongue-lashing. Instead, she hesitated briefly then continued on walking.
It was time to get back to work while he still had duties here at the ranch. “She’s something else,” he said to General Lee as Jesse led him out of the corral.
The horse nodded his head as if he understood. Jesse watched Miranda hobble up the porch stairs. Each step was a well-calculated movement.
“I almost feel sorry for her.” Jesse latched the stall door once the horse was inside. “It must be rough. A new town, a new home and a jackass who pushes her around.”
General Lee’s muzzle smacked Jesse’s head into one of the stall posts.
“Watch it!” Jesse rubbed the side of his head. “What’s gotten into you today? If you’re trying to knock some sense into me, you can forget it. She’s trouble with a capital T and I don’t give a damn what happens to her.”
The gelding turned in his stall and presented Jesse with a rear view.
“Thanks, pal.” He stormed off to the stable office. He knew he needed to apologize to Miranda for the way he’d treated her. More important, he needed to find a way to convince her to sell him the ranch. If he played his cards right, he could do it all with the help of one person and nobody would be the wiser.
Jesse picked up the phone and dialed.
Chapter Two
Miranda sat in the kitchen, soaking her feet in a small aluminum tub she found in the pantry. They were covered in blisters and ached more than they ever had in her life.
Note to self: wear sneakers next time. Score one for the cowboy.
She never thought she would make it through the first stall, let alone the last one. But she’d be damned if she’d let a man get the best of her. Who did he think he was, anyway?
If he tells me what to do one more time, I’ll...well, I’ll do something. That’s for sure. The phrase “where the sun don’t shine” came to mind.
She tried twice to reach Jonathan, only to get his voice mail. He talked to her on the phone most of the previous night to keep her company during her drive. She couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t answering.
Until she figured out what to do, she needed to bite her tongue when it came to Jesse. But it didn’t mean she’d allow him to boss her around and make fun of her. Yes, she needed some lessons on ranch life. Yes, he was the perfect one to show her the ropes. But mucking the stalls? That was a man’s job. She could feed the horses or put out fresh water or whatever the heck people did on a ranch full of animals.
When Jonathan first mentioned Double Trouble she knew in her heart it was where she belonged. Even before she saw the photographs. If anyone knew the kind of life she desired, it was Jonathan. Not only was he her best friend, he was the brother she never had. He was the only one she trusted with her hopes and dreams. Now here she was, unable to reach him and away from everyone she knew. She was officially a ranch owner. A ranch owner with horses and cattle.
Don’t forget the chickens.
Although it was an extraordinary and rare event, winning the lottery hadn’t quite been the highlight of Miranda’s year. After what she had been through, it came more as a relief. While it wasn’t enough money to guarantee she’d never have to work again, it was enough to buy Double Trouble and her truck outright. A sheet of paper with her finances lay before her. Every dime was carefully budgeted. And if she played her cards right, she had a year of padding built in.
Miranda shivered. She wasn’t sure if she was cold and scared or overwhelmed by the vastness of the ranch. Choosing the latter as a reasonable explanation, Miranda decided to unpack the items she’d brought with her. Then maybe the old place would feel more like home. Starting with a pair of flip-flops. She knew they were in one of these boxes.
Furniture shopping was on the top of her list for tomorrow. She didn’t have much left after she’d donated almost everything she owned to Goodwill before she left D.C.
Miranda noted every nook and cranny of the house. There were very few furnishings left behind. Much less than she had figured. A large drop leaf farm table and chairs, some bookcases and a few end tables were all that remained. Considering the sale included the contents of the ranch, she expected more furniture, and fewer animals. It was only day one and she already had to adjust her budget.
After choosing which room would be her bedroom, Miranda went downstairs by way of a narrow staircase that led to the kitchen. The old door creaked as she opened it, causing her to smile. Most people would lubricate the old iron hinges. She rather liked the homey sound.
Years of smoke darkened the bricks above the fireplace and bread oven. Another bit of charm she would preserve.
This is where I’m meant to be.
She could almost hear the love and laughter that used to fill these empty rooms. When she closed her eyes, she saw her own dreams of yesteryear play out before her. She opened them and envisioned children running in from outside, muddy feet leaving footprints behind them on the worn floor. Memories of her past faded. It was time for new ones.
By the time Miranda unloaded her truck and rental trailer, it was midafternoon. Taking a bottle of pink lemonade and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from her cooler, she surveyed the ranch through the screen door.
Miranda had to face the fact that Jonathan knew about Jesse and the livestock. Why else would he be dodging her calls? His secretary claimed he was away on business for the remainder of the week, but he’d mentioned nothing about that yesterday. How convenient. When she tried his cell phone, all she heard was Jonathan’s chipper voice mail greeting. After the last message Miranda left, she’d be amazed if he ever spoke to her again. Why didn’t he clue her in on everything before she arrived? She’d had enough surprises over the past year to last a lifetime.
“How am I ever going to manage this place?”
“With a little help and a lot of kindness.”
Miranda jumped at the response. A middle-aged woman, with skin the color of cinnamon, poked her head through the door.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, dear,” the woman said as she let herself in. She carried an armful of brown paper sacks filled to the hilt with cleaning products. She placed them on the table, then beelined for the boxes Miranda had left on the counter.
“Excuse me.” Miranda tried to get the woman’s attention. “Excuse me, um, whoever you are.”
“The name’s Mable Promise,” she said as she glanced around the room. “Jesse reckoned you might need a helping hand, or two, around here. We sure do have our work cut out for us. This house sat empty for way too long. Needs a good going-over, if I do say so myself.”
“I don’t understand.” Jesse told the woman she needed help? “I—”
“There’s nothing to understand. Now come on. We have plenty to do by the looks of things.” Mable directed Miranda to a stack of unopened boxes while she worked her way through the pots and pans. “Well, don’t just stand there stewin’ in your own juices. If we’re going to make this ranch work, we best get started.”
Miranda struggled to speak, choosing to chew on her bottom lip instead. Who was this woman unpacking her utensils?
“I’ll wash everything here. Do you have fresh linens on the beds?”
“Beds? I don’t have any beds. I don’t have any furniture really. I’m planning to go shopping tomorrow. Tonight I’ll camp out on the living room floor.”
“Well, we can’t have that!” Mable dried her hands and walked over to the screen door. “Jesse! Get on in here!”
The apples of Mable’s cheeks glowed as she smiled at Miranda. She had welcoming eyes. Caring and compassionate, like the eyes a mother has for her child. Miranda could only guess what it would have felt like if her own mother had once looked at her that way.
Jesse stood in the doorway. A perfect silhouette of his body stood in contrast to the afternoon sun. Miranda’s pulse began to quicken.
“Drive Miranda into town and pick up a mattress and box spring. I don’t want her sleeping on the hard floor. Lord knows it needs a good scrubbing. If you hurry, you can get to Mayfield’s before they close.”
Mable bustled about the kitchen as she spoke, her feet moving as fast as her tongue. Jesse laughed. This was apparently normal to him. He seemed at home and relaxed as he watched the robust woman. Until the woman stopped in her tracks and glared at him.
“Uh-oh.” Jesse groaned then scrambled for the door.
“Now go on...git!”
Mable chased them outside and down the porch stairs with a dish towel. Miranda yelped as they crossed the yard to her truck. She’d forgotten she was barefoot. Her blisters sure hadn’t.
Her shoes were inside. She imagined the wrath she would incur if she went back in and asked for them. A few seconds later, the screen door swung wide and Mable tossed a pair of flip-flops down the stairs. Carefully, she slid her feet into them. As much as they hurt, she wasn’t about to let Jesse see her pain.
“You didn’t have to do this.” Miranda nodded toward the kitchen. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Forget it. It was my way of apologizing for the way I treated you earlier.”
Miranda wasn’t quite sure if she should thank him or strangle him. A stranger just chased her out of her home and took over her kitchen.
“Who is she, anyway?”
“Mable’s been a family friend for as long as I can recall.” Jesse leaned on the truck fender. “She worked for the Carters before the accident. Lived in that cottage over there. Figured she could work here again since you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
“Work for me? Look, I don’t know how much money you think I have, but—”
“As long as she can live on Double Trouble, she’ll be happy with whatever you can pay. Her husband passed on a few years ago. He ran the cattle end of the business before they downsized it. They shared their final years together here. This place has sentimental value to her.”
Miranda sensed a guilt trip coming on. “I’m sorry to hear that but—”
“Word to the wise, sugar, don’t ever let Mable hear you say you feel sorry for her. She’ll tan your hide for sure.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant. It’s Mable who won’t.”
Miranda felt all control over her ranch slip further away with each word out of her mouth.
“Nice rig. Must have set you back a bit,” Jesse said, as he inspected the black quad cab pickup. “Not that it would matter much to you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Jesse jumped in the driver’s seat. “Toss me the keys.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I can drive myself, without any help from you.”
“You have no idea where you’re going,” Jesse said. “The center of town is nowhere near the interstate, which I assume is the way you came in. You’ll get lost on these back roads.”
“If I can manage to get here all the way from D.C., I think I can handle a little trip into town. Just point me in the right direction.”
“Suit yourself.” Jesse pointed toward the main road. “It’s that way.”
An endless dirt road lay before the ranch. The same dirt road she drove down when she arrived. And she didn’t recall seeing any signs for a town ahead along the way.
“Sure you don’t want me to tag along? I can help you try out those beds.” He winked, his intentions all too clear.
“Let me get this straight.” Miranda smiled. “You don’t even like me, yet you’re offering to sleep with me?”
“Honey, I don’t have to like you in order to bed you for the night.”
Miranda ignored his comment as she climbed in the truck. She headed down the dusty road, in the opposite direction she had come earlier. She had grown accustomed to her new truck over the past few days. Anything beat the broken-down cracker box she’d driven for the past six years.
After she passed three unmarked turnoffs, she decided to try her luck on the next one. It was next to impossible to tell which led to ranches and which ones were legitimate roads. Acres upon acres of pastures and crops lined the narrow lane, but there was no sign of a town.
A few attempts down others brought her to an intersection identical to the one she’d passed a few miles before. Now she was lost.
An hour later, she found herself in front of Double Trouble—no closer to town than she was before she left.
“Shoot!”
Miranda drove down the ranch drive, watching for signs of Jesse. The noise her tires made on top of the cattle guards made an unnoticed entrance highly unlikely. There was no way she was about to admit she’d never made it to town. He would enjoy it a little too much. She parked the truck and ran up the stairs. Mable would give her directions and she would try again tomorrow.
Miranda threw open the screen door and smacked face-first into Jesse’s chest.
“How was town, sugar?” He raised a brow as if to challenge her.
“I...uh.” Miranda tried to sidestep the cowboy, but he braced his arms on either side of the doorjamb.
“What was it you were saying?”
Jesse’s wicked grin said it all. He knew.
“So what?” Miranda pushed him aside and stormed into the kitchen. “So, I never made it into town.”
“What? I didn’t hear you.”
“I said I never made it to town!” Miranda shouted. “Are you deaf or just stupid?”
Miranda swore she felt steam rise from her skin. In a matter of hours, Jesse learned the right buttons to push. In one day, he managed to infuriate her more than most men did in a lifetime.
“My hearing’s fine, but you appear to be the stupid one,” he said as he strolled out the door. “Couldn’t even get your sorry self to town. Guess you’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight after all.”
The screen door slammed in his wake.
“Oh!” Miranda stomped her feet.
“We’ll have none of that, dear.” Mable joined Miranda as they watched Jesse’s retreat to the foreman’s house. “Pay no mind to him. His feathers are still ruffled over this place.”
“None of which was my fault,” Miranda added. “What’s his problem, anyway? He’s so angry and bitter.”
“Pride. Pure pride.” Grabbing a bottle of pink lemonade out of Miranda’s cooler, Mable opened it and took a sip. “Eww. I need to teach you how to make this stuff from scratch. It sure would taste better.”
Miranda felt her anger leaving her as she stared at the old kitchen floor. A layer of wax left a thick residue on the stained linoleum. She eyed a box of steel wool Mable had brought and got up to fill a bucket of water. On her hands and knees, Miranda began to scrub. Mable followed suit, and the two of them slowly began stripping the floor. It was cathartic in its own way.
“He’s a tough one to figure out,” Mable said.
Miranda only nodded in agreement.
“Jesse’s father never forgave him when he opted out of the family business.” Mable continued to scour as she spoke. “It’s not so much he didn’t want to be a part of the family ranch. He wanted to build one of his own.”
“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.”