Miranda And The Ranch Hand (Domestic Discipline Romance)

by Coleen Singer

  Miranda knew all this, but she couldn’t help the bereft feeling she had at his leaving—like the chill in the morning out on the trail when the campfire had burned itself out overnight. Of course Dylan did manage to leave one part of her body warmed up!

  An indignant frown replaced her sad look as she remembered their parting. She loved him, but he could be so bossy. Instead of words of caring when he came up to say good-bye, he had droned on about rules. No getting out of bed without someone in the room. No going up or down stairs. No going outside, and definitely no riding, or even visiting the stables. She couldn’t help herself—she had told him what he could do with all his rules.

  Of course he was swift to react to her response. He had been sitting on her bed, and had gently, but quickly rolled her over onto her stomach and landed a half-dozen hurtful swats to her backside. It happened so fast and she was so surprised, she had hardly registered the stinging sensation before he’d rolled her back over and kissed her with such passion! The warmth from her bottom quickly spread to her whole body.

  Then he was gone with the parting words that if she didn’t take care of herself and follow doctor’s orders, she’d get a real walloping when he returned… as if her brothers would let her wait till Dylan came back if she didn’t behave!

  The problem was, she was healing, but cooped up in her room, she wasn’t getting her strength back fast enough to suit her. And now with Dylan gone, she began to think she knew how the wild mustangs must feel when they were herded into a corral for the first time. Her spirit longed for the restoring powers of a long, wide-open ride across the north pastures, or just a few hours in the stables working with the horses—seeing to their feed and health, even mucking out a few stalls—anything to get out of the house. She paced, trying to figure out how she could escape the room she now saw as a cage. Unfortunately, she was still so weak, it only took about ten minutes of pacing before she completely exhausted herself and had to go back to bed.

  Mandy was sleeping heavily when Jenna brought up her dinner tray that night, and when Marcus came in to check on her before turning in. He thought again how close they came to losing her and vowed to keep an eye on her. He had always admired her adventurous spirit and fearlessness—but too often it lead to recklessness with her own safety, especially if some other living creature was in danger or pain. When she let it slip that she had ignored Dylan’s order to stay put the night of the shootings, and that’s how she was captured by the renegade leader, he was furious. Of course his anger was nothing compared to Dylan’s. The Texas Ranger had exploded like a misfired rifle. Both of them had promised Miranda she would get the spanking of her life when she was fully recovered.

  Marcus smiled when he thought of Mandy and Dylan together. It was just possible Mandy had met her match in that one! Marcus could see how much Dylan cared for his sister when he refused to leave her side during her feverish fight for consciousness. He didn’t imagine there was much that Dylan was afraid of, but he saw the same terror in his eyes that Marcus and David had felt when they all thought she might die. He had also seen the love in Mandy’s eyes for Dylan—he just hoped she wasn’t opening herself up for heartbreak, falling for a Texas Ranger.

  He did have to chuckle though, thinking back just a few weeks to remember that this was the same sister who had burst into his office and thrown a full-blown temper tantrum, demanding that he “fire the arrogant new ranch hand immediately.” That had been Dylan’s first full day on the ranch, before they knew he was really a Ranger working undercover.

  * * *

  “Well, Miss Miranda, I have to say, you’re healing quite nicely,” the doctor said when he came to check on her. “We’re not ready to take the stitches out just yet, but there’s no sign of infection around the wound. But with a gunshot wound that goes straight through like that, you’ve still got a lot of internal healing to do. That means, young lady, you’ve got to continue to take it easy or you’ll bust your stitches and start bleeding again.”

  Miranda groaned. She’d spent another three days stuck in her room and she was beginning to understand why animals caught in the jaws of a trap chewed off their own paws to be free. “Please, Doc, I’m withering away up here! Can’t I at least get dressed and sit outside for a little while each day? I’m like a growing thing—I die without sunshine.”

  She sounded so pitiful, the doctor relented. “All right, a few hours downstairs everyday—but you stay away from anything with four legs until your stitches come out. And you’d better have one of your brothers carry you up and down the stairs. Climbing stairs could pull your stitches out, not to mention it would be very painful for you.”

  “Oh, I promise I’ll be careful! Thanks so much, Doc.” She reached up and gave him an exuberant kiss on the check. The doctor figured anything that could make his patient that happy, had to be good medicine.

  For the next week or so, Miranda did exactly as the doctor ordered. She dressed and then waited for Marcus or David to carry her downstairs. She sat on the porch and watched from a distance as Howie Winger and his nephew Mickey worked with the horses. She longed to walk down to the corral and stables, but her brothers had been adamant. No further than the porch until the doctor said it was all right.

  By the second week of her release from her bedroom confinement, she was spending the whole day downstairs and even helping their housekeeper Jenna in the kitchen. She also spent a little time each day working on the animal clinic she was trying to get established in an unused barn. All her brothers would let her do was supervise the work of the ranch hands, but at least she felt like she was doing something.

  Then it happened—a morning neither of her brothers came up to get her. Jenna finally came up and told her that they and several ranch hands rode out very early to deal with a brush fire in the south pasture. Mandy knew that was where the longhorns were for the summer. If it was a bad fire, there could be injured or burned cattle.

  “Jenna, I’ve got to get out there. They’ll need me if any of the cattle are hurt. You’ve got to help me get out to the south pasture.”

  “Mandy, Marcus would skin me alive if I help you. He specifically told me to make sure you stay put.”

  “Well, you can help me or not, but I will get out there.” And with those words, she changed from her day dress to jeans and a soft cotton shirt. Jenna winced as she saw Mandy’s wound, which still looked pretty ugly.

  “Mandy, you’re going to pull out those stitches just days before the doc takes them out, and you’ll end up right back in bed. Please don’t go.” But she was pleading with Miranda’s quickly retreating back. She was out the door and headed for the stairs. As soon as she started down, she understood why the doc still wanted someone to carry her up and down stairs. Each step pulled hard at her side, causing a sharp pain. But all she could think about was the animals that could be in bad shape.

  Miranda finally made it downstairs and headed for the main barn to get the buckboard hitched. She saw Mickey in the stables and told him to hitch up the team while she got her medical bag and as much salve and bandages as she could find.

  “Miss Miranda, are you sure you should be riding out of here?”

  “Mickey, I’m going with or without help.”

  “All right, miss, I’ll take you. But somehow I don’t think your brothers will be too happy to see you… or me for that matter!”

  Mandy had to smile at that. “I could say I forced you at gunpoint if you’d like.”

  Mickey just grumbled and got the workhorses hitched up to the wagon and then helped Miranda climb in. He could see the flash of pain across her face as she stepped up, but it was quickly covered with a look of determination that told Mickey it would be useless to argue with the boss lady. He took the reins, thinking all along that his uncle would likely take his head off for bringing her out to the fire.

  They could see the smoke long before they got close to the south pasture. As expected, the ranch hands had driven the frightened cattle to the edge o
f the pasture near the river, figuring they’d be safer near the water. Miranda could easily see several of the herd had suffered burns to their legs. It also looked like there were some injured cattle, probably from a stampede in panic. She immediately went to work, directing Mickey to wet down her bandages.

  Before she could even treat many of the animals she first had to calm them down enough to avoid getting kicked or trampled herself. As she focused on the cattle, her own pain and exhaustion slipped away. Hours passed before her brothers and the other cowboys got ahead of the fire and were able to stop it with a firebreak. Then they headed back to the river to tend to the injured and burned cattle, despite their own exhaustion.

  Marcus was the first to notice Mandy. “Dammit, will that girl never listen to anything for her own good.”

  As he rode toward her, he could see she was working almost in slow motion—dirt, sweat and blood covering her arms and shirt. Then she turned her back to him and he saw a growing spot of blood where her exit wound was. The next thing Miranda knew, there were strong, but gentle arms lifting her and carrying her to the buckboard.

  “I swear, Miranda… one of these days...” The concern she saw in his eyes was mingled with anger, but she couldn’t give up yet.

  “Please, Marcus, put me down—there’s only a few more cattle to be tended too—then I’ll go directly to bed, I promise.”

  “Mandy, you’re bleeding—you’ve obviously busted your stitches. You’re not going to do any of these animals any good if you bleed to death. For crying out loud—you’re a trained doctor. You damn well should know better than to risk your own recovery coming out here.”

  Miranda knew he was right, but she could no more stay away than he or David could. As he carefully laid her in the back of the wagon, he yelled for David to go fetch the doctor. Without her intense focus on treating the longhorns, her own pain started to reach into her consciousness—it was almost as bad as the first week after she was shot.

  As the wagon reached the house, Marcus was surprised to see Dylan come flying out the door wearing a look a panic mixed with the same anger he felt. Dylan stopped short at the sight of Marcus covered in dirt and soot.

  “What the hell happened—are you alright? Where’s Mandy? Jenna said she took off out to the south pasture, but she was a little incoherent about why.” Then Dylan noticed Miranda lying in the back of the wagon and abruptly shut-up, the color draining from his face.

  Marcus jumped down and carefully lifted Miranda out of the wagon. She was pale as a harvest moon and her face told a story of intense pain. She looked up, saw Dylan, thought she was dreaming and then promptly passed out.

  When Miranda came around about an hour later she had new stitches and three very agitated men pacing her room. As the events of the morning came flooding back, she was tempted to shut her eyes again and avoid her brothers and Dylan for a little while longer—then it hit her—Dylan was back?

  “I’m sorry—I just wanted to help” was about all she could manage to get out. Her throat was so dry and raw with irritation from the smoke. She felt the biting pain in her side where she had torn open her bullet wound, and it seemed like every other muscle in her body hurt from the exertion of treating the animals. After virtually no exercise for three weeks, she’d gone well beyond overdoing it.

  Dylan was at her bedside in two swift strides. He took her hand and the anger that had been building up a head of steam since the doctor told them Miranda would be all right, simply melted away. Miranda saw only love and concern in his eyes, and he saw great relief in hers as she drank in the sight of him with the thirst of a critter left for days without water.

  “Dylan…”

  “Mandy, don’t try to talk—here drink this.” The cool water immediately soothed her raw throat, but it was the touch of the man she loved that eased her pain from her mind.

  “This is one hell of a homecoming—here I’m expecting to see you up and around, and you’re in worse shape than when I left! Geez, Mandy will you ever listen when someone tells you NO for your own good! You just don’t get it—it’s not just you that’s hurt when you put yourself at risk.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, but before Miranda could respond, Marcus chimed in. “Dylan, that’s a message we’ve been trying to get through that thick head of hers for years! Mandy, what Dylan’s trying to say is we can’t imagine life here without your laughter and spirit. We’re not just being mean or trying to fence in your adventurous nature—we just want you to use a little common sense, and take your own safety into consideration.”

  Always the one to lighten the mood, David said with mock sternness, “Which means sis, you’re going to be tied to the bed with armed guards outside the door and window!”

  “Yeah, armed with a paddle and instructions to use it on your bare backside if you step one foot out of this room until the doc says you’re completely healed!” Marcus added.

  They all laughed, as Dylan jumped in saying, “And I’m taking the first shift—in fact I’m taking all the shifts.” Then he turned serious again, “And don’t think for one minute young lady, your condition or the fact that I’ve missed the hell out of you the last three weeks, gets you out of a very long, hard spanking for what you pulled today.”

  “Not to mention the blistered butt we still owe her Dylan, for not staying out of harm’s way during the bandits’ raid, and getting herself shot in the first place!”

  “Man oh man Mandy, when the doc says you can get up and around again, you better be sure you can stay up for a while, because it doesn’t sound like you’re going to want to sit much!” David teased.

  Now Miranda was starting to get irritated at the teasing and threatening promises of spankings. “You know guys,” she said sarcastically, “I’m really sick and tired of being treated like a naughty little girl every time I try to do what I’m trained to do. I can’t stand by when a creature is hurt or sick—I’ve got to do something. You’re no better than the other ranchers around here—nobody thinks a woman is good for anything other than cooking, cleaning and having kids!” She tried to sit up to reinforce her point, but was immediately set back by the searing pain in her side.

  Dylan reached out to support her shoulders and ease her back down on the bed. “Mandy, this is not about your ability to work miracles with hurt critters. You know damn well your brothers and I—hell everyone on this ranch—respects your vet skills. But you don’t stop to think about consequences, especially to yourself. You just plunge in headfirst without ever checking how deep the water is. If I went into every Ranger investigation with the same recklessness, I’d have been killed a hundred times by now.”

  “And brat, I hate to say it, but ever since you were a kid, there has only been one way to get your attention. No amount of lecturing, scolding or threatening has ever gotten through that thick hide of yours. Only the direct approach across my knee seems to make an impression!”

  Even Mandy couldn’t argue with that—she knew it was true. “Actually, it’s that huge, hard left hand of yours that makes the impression—usually several of them! All right, I get the message—I swear, I’ll be more careful and think before I act. But really, Marcus, don’t you think getting shot and being cooped up here is punishment enough?” she asked hopefully.

  “No!” Marcus, David and Dylan all said at the same time.

  Mandy sighed heavily. “Just my luck, to be loved by three overbearing, dominant cowboys who live by the law of the hand—against my poor bottom!”

  It was another two weeks before the doctor pronounced Miranda’s wounds healed enough that there was no more danger of reopening, bleeding or infection. Her pain was pretty much gone, and she was getting her strength back, even though true to her brother’s word, she wasn’t allowed out of her bedroom for the entire two weeks. And this time she didn’t have Dylan to constantly keep her company.

  Dylan spent just about every day in Austin helping to set-up the new headquarters for the Rangers Frontier Battalion branch. All th
e calls for assistance from local sheriffs would now come through the Austin office. And while border security was not the duty of their office, all the Rangers talked about the tug of war between those who wanted Texas to break away again as an independent republic and those who supported the reinstatement in the United States after secession to the Confederacy during the war. Dylan knew most of the ranchers like the Rollins favored reinstatement. But there were strong political forces in Austin pushing for independence.

  One of the things the independence proponents preached all the time was security—and that put the Rangers right in the middle of the debate because they were the only real statewide law enforcement in Texas. Dylan wondered, not for the first time, if the independence supporters could have been behind the animal slaughter at the ranches outside Austin. It would make a strong point in the legislature if the Rangers couldn’t even keep the ranches right around the capitol city safe.

  There hadn’t been any more attacks since Dylan and his partners stopped the renegades at the Double-R, but Dylan just had a feeling things weren’t over yet. Unfortunately his instincts were usually right. Dylan headed back to the Double-R that night thinking about the upcoming fall cattle drive to market. Many of the ranches went together on that drive—leaving some wide-open targets. Finally Dylan decided to put his grim thoughts aside and concentrate on Miranda—she was freed from her bedroom confinement tonight and he knew she’d be ready to celebrate.

  The day Miranda was released from what she referred to as her ruffles and roses jail cell, she couldn’t wait to get back outside and spent the whole day walking around the house and sitting on the porch. She helped Jenna with dinner and was delighted to join her brothers and Dylan at the dinner table.

  But after dinner Marcus ended the celebratory mood when he addressed Miranda in his quiet but uncompromising voice. “Mandy, I want you to go to your room, get ready for bed and wait for me. We have some unfinished business.”