Betting on Texas

by Amanda Renee

  Jesse caught her reflection in the mirror. His mouth dropped open.

  “Lord have mercy!” Jesse said with a mouthful of toothpaste. He turned to face her. “God bless Mom and Dad.”

  “Why, Jesse, I didn’t know you cared.” Miranda smiled as she gazed at the bulge forming in his jeans.

  Jesse spit the toothpaste into the sink and leveled his gaze on the faucet. Miranda moved to his side so he couldn’t help but get a full view of her in the mirror. Frozen, he remained bent over the sink.

  “Problem, dear?”

  “Not at all,” he said as he rushed into the other room. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

  Satisfied with his reaction, Miranda picked up her towel. She wrapped it around her once again as Jesse reappeared in the doorway.

  “You think you’re so smart,” Jesse growled as he closed the space between them. “Well, let’s see how smart you really are. How about we up the ante?”

  “Up...up the ante?”

  His hands lingered over her arms seductively while his entire length pressed her further against the cold tile wall.

  “You have to host the annual Double Trouble Fourth of July picnic.” Jesse fiddled with a few strands of her hair. “And make nice with everyone in town.”

  Miranda closed her eyes at the feel of his warm breath against her neck.

  “What are the stakes?” she asked in a husky voice that even surprised her.

  “If you win, you’ll have the rare satisfaction of proving me wrong.” Jesse stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “And maybe even making a few friends in the process.”

  “And if I lose?” Miranda’s breath was ragged.

  “That’s easy,” he whispered in her ear. “If you lose, you’ll let Ramblewood down and you’ll never be accepted in this town. Even if you do win the other bet, which still stands by the way, everyone will say you were the girl who broke the Independence Day tradition.”

  “Why you...” Miranda snapped back to reality and tried to push him away. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

  Jesse braced himself on either side of her so Miranda couldn’t escape. Miranda kicked him in the shin with her bare foot causing them both to wince.

  Oh, that hurt!

  “Next time, put shoes on.” Jesse smirked. “This is Texas, sugar. We are steeped in tradition. You let them down and they will never forget it.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” Miranda attempted to hold out her hand to shake on it. “Fourth of July picnic it is.”

  Jesse’s mouth crashed down upon hers. All too quick to comply, she tasted the urgency of his kiss along with a hint of peppermint as he parted her lips with his tongue. He pulled her tighter to him. Animosity forgotten, Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the feel of his hardened form against her.

  He broke the kiss as fast as he began it.

  “I thought sealing this deal with a kiss would make it more official.” He walked to the door and turned to face her. “Oh, and don’t forget your towel, sugar.”

  Miranda looked down. Her towel had fallen to the floor sometime during their kiss. That breathtaking kiss.

  Chapter Six

  Sprawled across the bed, Jesse propped himself up on his elbows while he watched the local news. Snacks and sodas were laid out on the table. A vending machine raid must have occurred while she was in the shower.

  “Finished in the bathroom?” he asked, not looking up.

  “Yes.”

  Jesse rose from the bed and walked past Miranda, avoiding eye contact. He shut the bathroom door behind him.

  The roughness of his evening stubble lingered against her cheek. Miranda had been disappointed the kiss ended so abruptly. Sitting on the bed, she popped open a can of soda. He even thought to make it diet. Maybe he did pay attention to her grumblings about her weight after all. Either that or he thinks I’m fat.

  The coolness of the can against her lips replaced the warmth of Jesse’s kiss. The television drowned out the rain pounding down on the roof. Heavy from exhaustion, her eyes slowly closed out the day’s events.

  * * *

  SUN STREAMED THROUGH the window where the curtains didn’t quite meet all the way. She snuggled deeper into Jesse’s chest, his arm tightening around her as he kissed the top of her head.

  Miranda’s eyes flew open. She patted the area next to her and shot upright. Her hand stopped shy of his... Oh, no!

  “Get out of my bed!” She pushed him away and his body thudded against the floor. Surprised at her strength, Miranda peered over the edge of the bed.

  Whoops!

  Jesse’s head popped up and startled her.

  “What was that for?” Jesse asked as he shook off the night’s sleep.

  “What were you doing?” Miranda rose to her knees, hands on her hips. He had better come up with a good answer for this one. “You told me you would sleep in the chair.”

  Jesse hauled himself on the bed. Without a word, he glared at her.

  “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Miranda questioned.

  “As if you could,” Jesse shot back. “We both knew I couldn’t sleep in those tiny chairs. I didn’t think you would attack me for sharing a bed with you.”

  “Sharing a bed is one thing. Taking advantage of me is another.”

  “Get over yourself, will you?” Jesse rose before her, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. A pair he filled out rather well.

  “You cozied up to me. I’m a man, Miranda. Who am I to refuse your utmost desires? I’d be a fool to resist your affections.”

  Affections?

  “You thought I was coming on to you?” How dare he be so presumptuous? She may be attracted to him, but it didn’t mean she’d sleep with him. Well, at least not so soon.

  Jesse reached for his clothes and boots and tugged them on. “Get yourself together and let’s go. I’ll meet you outside.”

  He snatched the room key from the table and left her alone. What happened? Last night they’d argued in the bathroom and then this morning she found herself wrapped up in his arms. It was a feeling she enjoyed more than she cared to admit.

  * * *

  ONCE THEY WERE BACK at the ranch, Jesse and Miranda went their separate ways. A word didn’t pass between them the entire drive home. Instead, they both silently stewed over the other. Mable greeted Miranda on the porch with a wary smile.

  “How was your trip, child?”

  “Interesting, to say the least.”

  Miranda and Mable shared a good laugh over Jesse’s jealousy of Ty and Jesse’s unfortunate, sudden removal from bed that morning.

  “You’re going to be the death of him.”

  “Me?” Miranda smirked. “What did I do?”

  “It’s written all over the boy’s face. As much as he wants this ranch, he gave up on the idea the day he found out it was sold.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Miranda asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  “He’s stayed on for you.” Mable beamed. “I do believe the boy is smitten with you.”

  “I’m flattered you would think so.” Miranda wanted this topic of conversation over with fast. “But I think you’re mistaken. There may be a sexual attraction on his part, but that’s about it. He’s staying because of our bet.”

  After a hot shower, Miranda headed into town with Mable to finally pick out a bed. Mable suggested a bite to eat at The Magpie. Famished, Mi
randa accepted with only slight hesitation. After the other day, she wasn’t sure she would be welcome there ever again.

  Plus, she wanted to nail down Mable’s salary now that she was almost finished moving back into the guest cottage. With Jesse’s bet, she needed Mable’s assistance now more than ever. What’s one more adjustment to her finances? She’d been adjusting all her life.

  A few people stared as they walked through the luncheonette door. Mable shot each one a warning glance as if to intimidate them to be on their best behavior. Miranda giggled. It was funny to think of Mable as her bodyguard.

  “Afternoon, ladies.” Bridgett sat two glasses of water on the table. “How are you doing, Miranda? Mable?”

  Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. At least the woman didn’t hold a grudge. Although, Miranda had a feeling Ramblewood would remember her little scene for a long time to come. Especially considering how fast Beau and Aaron got wind of it. Mable said small town gossip traveled fast. She wasn’t kidding.

  Lunch at The Magpie went better than expected. She met Maggie Dalton, the owner of the luncheonette, a sweet woman who doted on every customer as if they were family.

  The brave and the curious ventured over to their table. Mable introduced her as the new owner of Double Trouble as if there was anyone in town who didn’t already know that. Mable strategically stressed the fact Miranda was new in town. She even acted as if she had arrived that day. It gave Miranda a clean slate and a suggestion to her neighbors to do the same.

  Everyone in the luncheonette knew everyone else. The people at one table joined in the conversation at the next. Before long, the entire place was talking about the same thing. It was a fun, homey atmosphere Miranda thought only existed on television.

  After lunch, with Mable’s pay settled, Miranda purchased a mattress and box spring from Mayfield’s. Not wanting to wait another day for its delivery, she had the store load it in the bed of her truck.

  The two women struggled unloading the bed when they arrived home. Jesse offered his assistance, but they insisted they were capable of handling things themselves. Once inside the house, getting the darned thing up the stairs was another matter altogether.

  The narrow stairs that led off the kitchen accommodated the mattress. However, there was no way the box spring would make the sharp turn at the top.

  “How in the world did people ever get anything up to the second floor?” Miranda asked as she swiped the sweat off her forehead with her arm. “Were people really small, with tiny furniture a hundred years ago when this house was built?”

  Mable struggled with her end of the box spring. “This is insane, Miranda. We need Jesse.”

  “Maybe if we try the stairs in the living room.” She wasn’t about to ask Jesse for help. He wouldn’t be around for much longer—one month was the deal and she was determined to win. She might as well start doing things without his help now.

  “I am too old to fight with this bed any longer.” Mable brushed her hands together. “And my nephew will be here soon with what’s left of my furniture.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll go up and get the bed frame together in the meantime. Let me know when Jacob gets here and I’ll come help you.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, child,” the woman said. “You have plenty of your own work to do around here.”

  The iron bed went together with relative ease. It was a handsome antique. Beau said it had been in his attic for years. Now if she could only get the rest of the bed up the stairs, she’d be in business.

  Stretching out her back, Miranda caught a fresh breeze at the open window. She gazed out to see Jesse, who stood in the middle of the corral, a horse circling him. A length of rope tied to the horse in one hand and a whip in the other. The whip cracked through the air at the poor defenseless animal.

  Enraged, Miranda flew down the stairs and through the kitchen, startling Mable.

  “Slow down, child.”

  “Jesse’s hurting that horse!”

  Before Mable could respond, Miranda was outside. She swung the corral gate wide-open and stormed into the center.

  “Put down that whip!” Miranda ordered.

  Startled, the horse reared and tried to bolt, almost dragging Jesse behind him. He fought to regain control. Miranda watched as the animal twisted and kicked to break free.

  “Close the gate!” Jesse fought to hold on to the rope with both hands.

  “Give me the whip now!” Miranda shouted.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Get out of here!”

  “I will not let you abuse that animal.”

  Jesse lost his grip as the horse broke free and charged toward the opening.

  “Loose horse!” Jesse yelled.

  Miranda ran to the side of the corral. The horse tore past her. Jesse ran to the stables and flew out of them, bareback on General Lee.

  She watched through the clouds of dust General Lee’s hooves kicked up. The horse ran down the drive and headed toward the main road. Oh, no! It wasn’t a busy road, but just the same. She didn’t want to see anything happen to the animal.

  A large blue pickup drove into the ranch. Aaron! He cut the wheel and blocked the horse’s path. He jumped out and pulled rope from the bed of the truck. Swinging the lariat above his head, he looped the horse’s neck. Jesse rode up and snatched it from his hands. He reined the horse to a complete stop and tied the rope off to his saddle horn. On foot, Aaron caught up and soothed the horse.

  “You better turn tail and run before Jesse gets ahold of your hide.”

  Mable stood behind her, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping madly.

  “I didn’t do anything! He had a whip and—”

  “He was lunging,” Mable interrupted. “It’s a form of training.”

  “But—”

  Mable didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence. “The whip never touched that horse. It’s the sound that makes the horse move forward.”

  Miranda watched Aaron and Jesse walk the horse to the stables. She could have sworn he was whipping the horse.

  Aaron stopped before the stable entrance. Jesse headed straight for her. Thin lines formed deep across his brow, arms close to his sides, fists clenched.

  “Stay away from the horses from now on,” Jesse growled as he advanced. “You cause trouble every time you’re around.”

  Miranda quickly moved behind Mable, putting her between the two of them for protection. Mable held up her hands to calm Jesse.

  “Take it easy, Jesse,” Mable pleaded. “She didn’t know.”

  “Jesse,” Aaron called with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

  Ignoring them both, Jesse glared over the top of Mable’s head at Miranda.

  “I mean it. You stay away from them.”

  “I’m sorry,” Miranda said. “From where I stood it looked like you were hurting him.”

  “You must not think much of me, then.” Jesse clenched and unclenched his fists. “What if the horse got hit by a car? He could have been killed and so would whoever was driving.”

  Miranda paled. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. All she wanted to do was protect the horse.

  “I didn’t know” was all she mustered.

  “Go back to wherever you came from!” Jesse stomped to the stables, passing Aaron on his way out. “Useless woman.”

  What? The words registered as soon as they left his mouth. No one called her useless and got away with it. She had
enough of that with her mother. Claire always said Miranda would never amount to anything. Working in a department store was a useless job in her mother’s book.

  Miranda stormed into the stables after him. Aaron caught her arm, stopping her.

  “Let him cool off, Miranda. If you go in there now, you may not come out alive.”

  Miranda broke from his grasp.

  “Did you hear what he called me? I am not useless!”

  Aaron put an arm around Miranda’s shoulder and led her away from the stables.

  “Let’s go inside and you can tell me what happened.”

  Miranda moved away. She didn’t want to be pacified or coddled. She wanted to be mad. Mad at Jesse, mad at Jonathan for not returning her calls, and mad at herself for being so stupid and assuming Jesse was hurting the horse.

  In the kitchen, Miranda couldn’t bear to look at Mable. She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and tried to reach Jonathan again. Voice mail, as she expected. With Aaron and Mable watching her, she opted not to leave the heated message burning her lips and hung up the phone.

  “Grab an end.” Miranda picked up an end of the box spring. “We’re getting this upstairs even if it kills us.”

  Without a word, Aaron lifted the other end and after a half hour of the two of them pushing and swearing, they finally got it up the narrow staircase and onto the bed frame.

  “Who designs stairs two feet wide with a turn large enough only to accommodate an infant?” Miranda said as she slid down the wall of the bedroom and sat on the floor.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Aaron responded. “I’d say a toddler could get through there.”

  Miranda faced Aaron sitting on the box spring and started to laugh. The whole situation she had gotten herself in was so absurd. He reached out and helped her to her feet.

  “Come on. Let’s get the mattress on, so you have some place to sleep tonight.”

  Once the bed was together, Miranda removed a set of new sheets from a bag on the floor. They made the bed together, play fighting with the fitted sheet.