Betting on Texas. Amanda Renee

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while she may have seen an animal or two in the photographs, no one ever told her it was a package deal.

      A rooster crowed and broke her train of thought. “Chickens, too?”

      “You’re telling me you know nothing about horses and cattle? Then why on earth did you buy a ranch?”

      “I just told you, I didn’t know it came complete with farm animals. I bought a house with land.”

      “Lady, this is a ranch! And ranches are for people with animals.”

      Miranda kicked at the dirt beneath her boots. She needed a moment to sort this out, to call Jonathan and get to the bottom of this.

      “What did you intend to do with a fifteen stall stable?”

      “There are fifteen horses?” If she didn’t faint now, she would soon.

      “Relax.” Jesse smirked. “There’s not quite that many now. So what happened? The truck wasn’t expensive enough for you? Had to jump in whole hog and buy a Texas ranch to appease your shopping urges?”

      Miranda’s first thought was to slap him across the face. Thank heavens her good graces held her in check and she kept her hands where they were.

      “Oh, get off your high horse. No pun intended there, cowboy.” Miranda recoiled. “You know nothing about me!”

      “Don’t care to, either.”

      “If you are so concerned about the welfare of these animals, then why don’t you take them with you?”

      “And keep them where? My back pocket? Not a whole lot of room there, sugar.”

      Miranda ignored his arrogance. “Mr. Jesse, certainly there must be some room for them at your ranch.”

      “You sure don’t listen very well. This was my ranch!” Lines of frustration creased his forehead. “And my name’s Jesse Langtry, not Mr. Jesse.”

      “Jesse’s your first name?” Miranda tried to hide her amusement. “Like Jesse James?”

      “You got a problem with that, city slicker?” He folded his arms across his chest.

      “City slicker!” Miranda found it harder and harder to keep calm. “Look, it’s obvious there’s been some sort of a mix-up here. Once I call my attorney, I’m sure I can straighten this all out. Maybe the previous owners would welcome their animals back. At no cost, of course.”

      Jesse whipped off his Stetson, gazed skyward and laughed as he wiped the back of his roughhewn hand across his forehead.

      “How generous of you. But it would be next to impossible.” His callousness faded as he continued. “They were killed in a car accident six months ago.”

      “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

      It seemed Jonathan had neglected to tell her a lot of things about the ranch. Not that she’d asked him many questions. One look at the photos and she’d wanted to move as soon as possible. Now Miranda was desperate to get some clarification from her friend.

      “They didn’t have any children, so the house went to Fran’s sister. Since she had no use for it, it went up for sale.” Jesse pulled his hat down low, shielding his eyes. “You and I both bid on it. I lost and you won the whole shootin’ match. I was only watching the place until the estate was settled.”

      Miranda supported herself against the truck. A house was one thing, but animals? She had plans of starting a small business in town once she moved to Ramblewood. Only her ideas were more along the lines of a clothing boutique. This wasn’t what she expected at all.

      From what she could see of his face, he was distraught over the loss of his friends and home. Miranda felt a small pang of guilt. While she wanted a place to call home and to start a family of her own, she didn’t want to destroy someone else’s life in order to get it.

      She’d soften her tone with him and try to get on friendlier terms. “So what exactly does a ranch manager do?” If she was lucky, maybe she could even convince him to stay and help her for a few days, or until she figured out what was going on here.

      “I oversaw the entire spread, as well as being the head trainer.”

      “Trainer?” Miranda repeated.

      “I train cutting horses.”

      Miranda stared blankly at Jesse.

      He rolled his eyes. “Cutting horses are used to move cattle around, among other things.”

      “I see.” A scene from an old Western flashed through Miranda’s head. “I didn’t realize people still did that.”

      “Sure they do.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I have another job waiting for me in Abilene, but I’ll stay around for a bit and feed the livestock. I don’t work for free, and I’m not staying long. Just long enough for you to decide what to do with all of this.”

      Bingo!

      “Really? You’ll stay?” Miranda saw a slight glimmer of hope. “That would be great!”

      “Don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m only here temporarily. What’s your name?”

      “Miranda. Miranda Archer,” she said, eagerly holding out her hand.

      He took her hand in his and turned her palm over once again. “It’s not too bad. The sting will go away in a few minutes.”

      The gentleness of his touch sent her mind in the opposite direction of pain. Maybe I can find out if cowboys really do roll in the hay. Heat rose in her cheeks at the thought.

      “Well, Miranda. Come on.” Jesse motioned to her. “We’ve got plenty of work to do.”

      “Work?” Miranda glanced at the pile of her belongings packed into the truck. “I just got here. I haven’t even had a chance to see inside my house.”

      She didn’t wait for a response. Miranda retrieved a few bags and headed up the porch stairs. Jesse bounded ahead of her.

      “Not now.” He took the bags from her and dropped them on the porch. “Until you hire a new foreman you need to learn how to take care of these animals. Like I said, I’m not staying long.”

      He couldn’t leave! What would she do?

      “Show me around later.” Miranda shooed him away.

      She really was desperate to see the house and wasn’t about to wait a minute longer. The house had played a major part in her move to Ramblewood. From the listing information the Realtor had emailed her, it had a great deal of charm and a homey quality. Ever since, Miranda pictured herself there, with a husband and a houseful of children. The fact it was a thousand miles away from Washington, D.C., was an added bonus.

      “Let’s get a few things straight, Miranda. I’m not your personal tour guide.” Jesse took her arm and steered her down the stairs. “You can see the house on your own time. The sooner I show you what to do around here, the sooner

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