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 the 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
