So, if he couldn’t count on Trent to intervene, Jake figured he would just have to set things right first thing this morning before the whole idiotic plan got out of hand. Nobody was going to be riding broncos. And, sure as hell, nobody was getting married. The very thought made him shudder. His one close brush with the prospect had ended in pure disaster and had nearly cost him his life as well as his career.
Then an image of Sara, silhouetted against his fire the night before, came to mind. He wondered if her skin would be as soft as it appeared, if it would heat at his touch, as his had at hers. He wondered what all that spirit and energy would be like in bed, channeled into wicked, passionate lovemaking.
He cut off that line of thinking before he made himself crazy, so crazy that he would consider going through with the bet just to find out the answers to those questions and all the others that had been plaguing him since he’d found Sara in his house the night before.
Driven by a need to get this resolved, he showered and dressed in record time and headed for the main house, praying he would catch Sara alone. She was often up before her father, as eager to get a start on the day’s work as Jake was.
Luck, for once, was on his side. She was seated at the dining room table, an omelet and toast before her, untouched by the look of them. Her appetite was one of the things Jake admired about her. She didn’t choose cautiously and pick daintily at her food like most women, who started the day with grapefruit and dry toast. Sara worked hard and ate heartily.
Today, though, it looked as if she might be off her feed. Maybe she was having the same sort of second thoughts about their bargain that he was. It would make things easier.
“Your father around?” Jake asked.
“Actually he went out early this morning,” she said, pushing her food around on her plate without tasting it. “He said he had some chores in town.”
“Your food’s getting cold,” Jake commented as he scooped up a healthy serving of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast for himself from the buffet breakfast left by the housekeeper. “Something wrong?”
Cool green eyes rose to clash with his. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“I thought maybe you’d had time to think about what we discussed last night and reached the same conclusion I have.”
“And what would that be?”
“That we were both talking a lot of foolishness. You’re not going to stay on a bronco for eight seconds and I’m not about to marry you.”
She leaned forward. “Are you saying you don’t intend to honor our deal?”
“I’m saying we shouldn’t go through with it. Let’s drop it now, before you get hurt. Last night you were angry. You acted impulsively. I’m sure you regret getting in over your head.” Even as the last words spilled from his mouth, Jake realized he’d made a terrible miscalculation. She did not appreciate his attempt at conciliation.
She stood slowly, every magnificent inch of her radiating indignation. “Don’t you dare take that condescending tone with me. I knew exactly what I was doing last night,” she declared. “The bet is on, Jake Dawson, unless you’re too cowardly to go through with it.”
The scrambled eggs on his plate were beginning to taste like rubber. Jake slammed down his fork and scowled at her. “Okay, fine. You want to break that pretty little neck of yours, let’s do it.” He rose and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To make the arrangements.”
Her eyes widened. “Right now?”
“Why wait? There’s no time better than the present,” he said. “You have a problem with that?”
She shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Well, actually, I had another date in mind.”
“When would that be?”
“A few weeks. A couple of months, maybe.”
Jake walked back to her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Getting cold feet?”
“No,” she snapped back at once, but she avoided looking directly at him. “It’s just that I’ll need a little practice.”
The admission came as no surprise to Jake, but it clearly cost her to make it.
“Gee, I thought you were ready to take me on now, get this settled once and for all.” He cupped her chin and looked directly into her eyes. “You’ve broken a horse, haven’t you, Sara?”
“Of course. You taught me how.”
“Is that what made you think you could win a bet like this?” he asked. “Because if that’s it, let me tell you, you don’t know the half of it. You’re going to spend more time on your butt in the dirt than you ever imagined possible. If you’re damned lucky, you won’t get trampled in the process.”
He forced himself to gentle his angry tone. “There’s no shame in taking a good, hard look at reality and deciding maybe this is a bad idea.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she said with an air of weary resignation. “There is no other way. You’ve made that clear.”
Jake almost felt sorry for her, but not sorry enough to tell her father that their deal for the ranch was off. Oh, he could walk away from Sara’s challenge, just flat out refuse to play the game she’d devised, but everyone deserved a fighting chance to achieve a dream, didn’t they? She needed to know she’d done everything she could if she was going to move on with her life once the ranch was his and his alone.
At least he wouldn’t hold her to marriage, when she lost. Suggesting it truly had been a bit of lunacy on his part. Agreeing to it had only shown the depths of her desperation. They were as ill-suited as any two people on the face of the earth could be. There was no point in making two people miserable until the end of time, just because he’d lost his head for a minute.
Now was not the time to get into it, though. Maybe just thinking about being saddled with him for a lifetime would keep her on that bronco long enough to make a respectable showing. After all, her pride was at stake here, too, right along with her future.
“See Zeke Laramie,” he said grudgingly. “Nobody knows more about rodeo around here than he does.”
Her despondent mood instantly lifted. She gave him a saucy grin. “Giving helpful hints to the enemy, Jake? I’m surprised at you.”
“I was just thinking maybe he can keep you from getting yourself killed.”
What he didn’t know was who was going to protect him from getting killed when Trent Wilde found out what his daughter and Jake were up to.
* * *
Instead of going to see Zeke Laramie, which was where she intended to go when she left the house, Sara found herself heading into downtown Riverton. A half hour later she was on Dani’s doorstep.
Her older sister had a soothing way about her and, Lord knew, Sara needed comfort, maybe a little grounding in reality. Of all the muddles she had gotten herself into in her life, this one had to be the worst.
Not that she could tell Dani about it. She couldn’t tell a soul what she had in mind. If her father got wind of the bet she’d made with Jake, he’d probably lock her away in some institution until she was ancient. Unlike any attempt she might make to have her father declared incompetent, his try would be successful. She’d given him all the ammunition he would need to convince any judge in the state that she was mentally off kilter. As far as Jake’s proposal, she was still wrestling with that one. He’d probably just hoped to scare her off, which proved he didn’t know her at all.
She found her sister in the kitchen as expected, a dusting of flour on the tip of her nose, her dark hair mussed, her hands covered with bread dough as she kneaded it with a vengeance. As Sara watched from the doorway, Dani folded the soft mound in two, then punched it viciously.
“Pretending that’s anyone in particular?” Sara inquired with amusement.
Dani glanced up. “Daddy, of course.”
The tart response startled her. Sara had long admired Dani’s decision to break free from their father’s control. She rarely let him ruffle her feathers anymore. Their father must have outdone himself for Dani to be this upset.
“Oh, he stopped by a little while ago to remind me that I’m not getting any younger,” Dani said, slamming a fist into the dough. “As if I couldn’t see that for myself. Am I supposed to marry any man who happens along just because Daddy wants to check me off his list of worries?”
Sara grinned. “Is he still trying to pawn Kyle Huggins off on you?”
“I think Daddy sees it as the other way around. After all, Kyle is a catch. He owns his own ranch. He’s under eighty. He has no terrible habits to speak of, unless you count chewing tobacco. And he doesn’t smell too bad.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d been close enough to get a whiff of how he smells,” Sara teased. “Is there something you haven’t mentioned?”
Dani shot her a baleful look. “One smart-mouthed Wilde in a morning is more than enough.”
“You used to admire Kyle,” Sara pointed out.
“And I still do. He’s an admirable man, but he’s old enough to be my father. Heck, maybe even my grandfather. Can you imagine him with a whole passel of little children underfoot?”
“And that’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Having kids?”
Dani paused and a familiar dreamy expression spread across her face. Sara had seen that look a million times. Just the sight of a baby was enough to bring it on. Sara only looked like that when she thought about the ranch.
The expression faded, replaced by a deep sadness. “Sometimes my heart aches from wanting to hold my own babies in my arms,” Dani admitted in a whisper. She grinned ruefully. “That’s not very modern of me, is it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a mother,” Sara said fiercely. “Maybe you should just go out, find some sexy, suitable stranger and get pregnant.”
Dani stared at her. “What an appalling idea!”
“Only because you want the romance and all the trimmings. You wouldn’t be the first woman to do something outrageous to get what she wanted in life,” Sara said, thinking not so much of Dani now as herself.
Something in her voice must have alerted her big sister that her own mood was just as dark as Dani’s. Penetrating brown eyes studied her intently.
“What’s up with you?” Dani asked gently. “You didn’t ride all the way into town just to listen to me complain about Daddy. Is something up out at the ranch?”
Something was up all right, but she didn’t want to be the one to tell Dani about her father’s plans. Since she also couldn’t explain the restless feelings that had been stirring inside ever since she’d talked to Jake the night before, she forced a carefree smile. “Maybe I just wanted a taste of one of your pies. I bet that’s apple I smell in the oven.”
“It is and you’re not getting any. I have to take an order over to the store by noon. I’m heading over there as soon as I get this bread in the oven.”
Sara sighed wistfully. “I remember a time when you baked pies for the family. Now you expect us to go and buy them.”
“A woman has to make a living,” Dani retorted. “And you can afford my prices.”
Sara wandered around the kitchen poking into cupboards, hoping to find a stray chocolate chip cookie at least. “Don’t you keep any of the good stuff for yourself?” she asked, when the search came up empty.
“Not so much as a crumb.”
“Then I might as well go on home.”
“Sara?”
She stopped on her way to the door and faced her sister. Dani’s expression was quizzical.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You don’t seem like yourself.”
“Exactly who am I?” Sara blurted without thinking. She waved off the question before Dani could even consider a response. “Oh, don’t mind me. I guess I just got out of bed on the wrong side this morning.”
“Then you’re not in need of a deep philosophical discussion on the essence of who we are?”
“I don’t think so, but thanks all the same.” She came back and hugged her sister, oblivious to the smudges of flour and bits of dough likely to be transferred. “Got to run.”
“You heading back to the ranch?”
“Not right away,” Sara said, thinking of the visit she intended to pay to Zeke Laramie. “You might say I’ve got a date with destiny.”
Dani clearly didn’t take the remark too seriously. She grinned. “Hope he’s sexy as hell.”
Oddly, it wasn’t Zeke’s image that came to mind, but Jake’s. And, she had to admit, he was sexy as hell. Last night, when he’d suggested making marriage part of the bet, she hadn’t been nearly as appalled or outraged as she should have been. Instead, her fool heart had reacted as if the idea were something other than totally preposterous.
It was absurd, of course. The man was out to steal the only thing that mattered to her. That made him the enemy, a scoundrel, a devious snake in the grass.
She would not, under any circumstances, marry such a man, sexy or not. Which made getting over to see Zeke Laramie more critical than ever.
Chapter Three
Zeke Laramie was as bent and scarred as a centuries-old weathered tree. He walked with an uneven, painful gait that had Sara wincing as she watched him. She knew for a fact that old injuries had pretty much torn up one knee, both hips and a shoulder.
Local legends had grown up around Zeke’s once glorious rodeo career and the spectacular, bone-breaking tumbles he occasionally took. She hadn’t needed Jake to tell her that Zeke was one of the best. She’d hardly dared to think that he might be willing to teach her what he knew, but with Jake’s recommendation maybe he would.
Unfortunately when Zeke spotted her crossing the lawn toward the paddock where he was working, his leathery face creased with a suspicious frown. Zeke was also notorious for his lack of welcome.
His circle of friends was limited. Beyond Jake, Sara couldn’t think of a single person who claimed to be intimately acquainted with him. She had never met him before, nor even seen him in town. Visitors came to his small horse ranch at their own peril. They were as likely to be greeted with a shotgun as a smile, depending on his mood.
“What do you want?” he demanded ungraciously. “If you’re trying to sell me something, you can turn right on around and git.”
“I’m Sara Wilde,” she said, holding out her hand.
Zeke ignored it. “So?”
“I thought maybe Jake Dawson might have called you about me.”
At the mention of Jake’s name, his expression softened almost imperceptibly. He looked her up and down. Sara got the distinct impression that she didn’t measure up. The hard glint returned at once to his eyes.
“You know Jake?” he asked, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“He works for my father, Trent Wilde.”
Zeke nodded, no more impressed by that than he had been by the mention of Jake. Perhaps he was the only man in the entire state of Wyoming not awed by Trent Wilde. Sara decided she could forgive him a lot of rudeness just for that.
“Actually, Jake is the reason I’m here. I need a little help with something and he recommended you.”
“Ain’t taking on any new horses right now,” Zeke said. “I’ve got my hands full as it is.”
“It’s not about a horse,” she said, then amended, “exactly.”
Zeke regarded her impatiently. “Which is it?”
“I need you to teach me to stay on a bronco.”
The old man’s mouth gaped comically. Then he started to chuckle. The chuckle blossomed into a gut-deep laugh. He laughed so hard his eyes watered. He whipped off his hat and slapped his knee with it.
Sara was delighted he was having so much enjoyment at her expense. Maybe since she had brightened his day so, he would look on her request more favorably.
“I’m serious,” she insisted, when he’d calmed down.
“And I’m
the bloody Queen of England.” He shook his head. “You on a bronc. If that don’t beat all. Jake put you up to this, didn’t he? Wanted to give me the best laugh I’ve had in a month of Sundays, I’ll bet. You go on back and tell him it worked.”
He settled his hat back on his head and turned away, chuckling once more as he headed back into the paddock.
“Mr. Laramie?”
He kept right on walking. He didn’t even glance back. “Go on. You can git now,” he said. “You’ve had your fun.”
“Mr. Laramie!” Sara repeated more emphatically. “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for the lessons.”
That snagged his attention. Money usually talked, sometimes even more effectively than reason, she’d found to her disappointment.
He turned slowly and stared at her. “I’m too old to be foolin’ with this kinda nonsense. You want lessons, get Jake to teach you. I taught him everything he knows.”
Sara shook her head. “That won’t work.”
“Why the hell not? He’s right there under your nose.”
“True, but my bet’s with him.”
Zeke’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You made some kinda fool bet with Jake?”
He sounded vaguely intrigued by that, so Sara decided to take full advantage of his fascination. She winked.
“Just between you and me?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
“You see anybody else around?” he grumbled.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, confident his attention was riveted on her. “I suppose you could say I bet the farm on my beating Jake in a bronc riding contest.”
Zeke just stared. “You’re serious? You bet Three-Stars?”
“Every acre of it.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, clearly awestruck. “And Jake agreed to this?”
The Bridal Path: Sara Page 3
