by Amanda Renee
“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 th
e 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.
“Hey, Bridgett.” Jesse turned sideways in the booth. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Much better now. The cast’s coming off this week. After some rehab, she’ll be able to get around on her own.”
“Must be a nuisance,” Jesse continued, ignoring Miranda’s glares. She could wait a moment longer and learn the meaning of the word patience.
“Don’t I know it. For me as much as her. I have to work all day, then go home and take her every place she needs to go.”
“Be sure to give her my best.”
Miranda cleared her throat loudly until Jesse acknowledged her.
“Bridgett, this here is Miranda. She bought the old Carter place.”
“It’s a pleasure, Miranda.” Bridgett smiled sweetly. “You need anything, you just holler, you hear?”
“Thanks.” Miranda shrugged, dismissing Bridgett’s sincerity.
Jesse shot her a warning glare. Bridgett shrugged and took a pencil from behind her ear.
“The usual for you, hon?”
“That’d be great,” Jesse said.
“What will you have, dear?”
“Do you have anything low fat?” Miranda wrinkled up her nose as she perused the menu.
“She’ll have pancakes and sausage.” Jesse scowled, daring her to challenge him.
“You got it. They’ll be out in a few.” Bridgett winked at Jesse again as she walked toward the kitchen.
“I could have ordered for myself.” Miranda grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and wiped the table. “I’m on a diet.”