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“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 need 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.”
“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.”
