Betting on Texas. Amanda Renee

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      A bittersweet smile formed upon her lips as the house appeared in the distance. This was it. A new home and a new life, away from everything in Washington, D.C.

      The morning sun shone bright upon the white clapboards of the century-old farmhouse. A large whitewashed front porch spanned its entire width. Walnut and oak trees shadowed neglected flowerbeds filled with weeds. Miranda envisioned a vibrant wildflower palette planted against the starkness of the house and looked forward to a little garden work.

      She pulled the truck into a shaded area close to the stables. Looking up, Miranda’s breath caught in her throat. A rough and ready cowboy leaned casually against the weathered open door of the building. A grayish-colored dog sat at his feet, wagging his tail.

      If the cowboy comes with the place, I must be in heaven.

      Miranda peered over the top of her sunglasses and watched the man walk inside the stables. Then logic overruled fantasy. Miranda realized Jonathan must have arranged for him to welcome her to Ramblewood.

      She stepped down from the truck, her body stiff from the long drive. The cowboy returned leading a deep chocolate-brown-colored horse.

      Her eyes darted to a nearby corral where two more horses grazed. Coils of rope and feed buckets hung from the white fencing. Water troughs filled to their rims reflected the morning sky. She shook her head, willing the whole scene to disappear.

      Something wasn’t right.

      Miranda grabbed the photos from the front seat. It didn’t make sense. It was the same house. Same property. Why were the horses still here?

      Maybe he’s just using the place for a few days. The horse trailer next to the barn must mean the animals were being relocated soon.

      “May I help you?” the man called out as he approached.

      His tall, muscular frame flexed with each stride. The Texas sun had tanned his face a warm golden hue. Hair the same color as the horse he led peeked out from under his Stetson. A few days’ worth of stubble enhanced his rugged good looks even further.

      “Um...” Miranda’s mouth went dry. She regained her composure enough to ask, “Is this the Double Trouble Ranch?”

      “Sure is, sugar,” he drawled. The horse behind him nudged his shoulder forward. “What can I do for you?”

      “I don’t understand.” Miranda surveyed the property. Are those cows in the distance? She looked to the cowboy for answers. “This has to be a mistake.”

      His eyes narrowed. Miranda stepped back. The handsome features she was attracted to only seconds ago faded into a menacing glare.

      “Who are you?” His jaw clenched.

      Miranda had a sudden urge to flee to the safety of her truck, but both man and horse blocked her path. A fierce pounding began deep within her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

      “You’re the new owner, aren’t you?”

      He stood too close for comfort. Miranda backed into the corral fence. There was no place to turn. With her adrenaline raging, anger suddenly overtook fear. Squaring her shoulders she stepped forward, inches from his face.

      “Yes, and you are?”

      “The former ranch manager.” He handed her the horse’s rope. “His name’s General Lee. Good luck.”

      Stunned, Miranda looked up at the animal. He snorted and licked her cheek. “Eww!” She wiped her face and quickly lengthened the amount of rope between herself and the horse.

      “Hey, wait a minute,” Miranda called out after the cowboy who was walking away. The sound of hooves on the ground behind her stopped her—she forgot all about the rope she held. The horse nudged her forward. “Cut that out!”

      The cowboy stopped in front of Miranda’s truck and looked down at the bug-splattered license plate.

      “Washington, D.C., huh? What’s a city girl like you know about owning a ranch?”

      “Nothing!” she shouted. At her outburst General Lee tossed his head pulling the rope through Miranda’s hand with a stinging burn.

      The cowboy was back at the agitated horse’s side, rubbing his palm between the horse’s eyes and down to the end of his muzzle while he whispered words Miranda couldn’t quite make out.

      “Lesson one. Don’t ever yell around a horse. Especially one you don’t know,” he warned. “Lesson two—always wear gloves when handling a rope.”

      “But—” There was no point in reminding him he was the one who’d handed it to her. She closed her eyes tight. It’s all a dream. The Marlboro Man is just a mirage.

      “I don’t understand. I bought this place but...I didn’t sign on for this.” She gestured toward the horse. “Why are you here?”

      “I wanted to meet the person who destroyed my life.” He stepped closer.

      Didn’t this man understand the meaning of personal space? He stared at her with deep brown eyes as if he expected an explanation. He may be drop-dead gorgeous, but she wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. Yes, he was an incredible specimen of a man, but she needed to focus on the task at hand.

      If only I could run my hands—

      Miranda shook her head to erase the thought, watching the cowboy turn General Lee loose within the fenced area. The cowboy returned and gave her a conceited grin, as if he’d read her mind.

      “You outbid me,” he said.

      “What are you talking about?”

      “I know your type.” He drew her hands to his chest and ran his thumbs over her skin. “Rich as molasses. Everything in life handed to you on a silver platter. You come to these small Texas towns, buy ranches like this one and then turn them into housing developments.”

      He turned her palm upward while gingerly running his fingers over the welt from the rope. A chill ran through her. A part of her wanted him far away from her yet she seemed to be glued to the spot. Maybe it had been far too long since she last felt the touch of a man. But this wasn’t just any man—this was a full-blooded cowboy who rattled her as no one ever had.

      The reality of the situation kicked in and she pushed him away. “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I bought this place to live on. Sight unseen, I might add. I don’t know where you got your information from, but it couldn’t be more wrong. I have no plans to build anything. I don’t have that kind of money.”

      “Sure you don’t.” He ground his teeth together. “I poured the past fifteen years of my life into this ranch. Built everything you see here, with the exception of the houses. Double Trouble was mine. Then you came along. Ripped it right out from under me. Too bad I won’t be around to watch when you try to deal with the cattle.”

      “Cattle?” Miranda gulped. So, those were cows in the distance.

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