Betting on Texas

by Amanda Renee

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 apologizi
ng 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.”

  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 n
eed 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.”