Bet You'll Marry Me (11 page)

“I trust you,” she said, and placed the knife in the palm of his hand.

T
HE
B
ETS AND
Burgers Café was not Jenny's first choice for a place to eat lunch, but Nick, Billie, and Wayne insisted. She had to admit the chicken wings with honey-barbeque dressing were better than she remembered. Afterward, the waitress cleared their plates and Pete Johnson, the café owner himself, drew toward their table.

“How much do we owe you?” Nick asked, drawing out his wallet.

“Nothing. Your lunch is on the house,” Pete said, his little round face beaming. “I really appreciate the amount of business you two keep bringing into my restaurant.”

“It's not intentional,” Jenny told him, scanning the room, which was even more crowded than before.

Faces everywhere were turned in their direction and excited murmurs circled around them. It reminded her of the day she'd stormed in with the broom and first met Nick. She smiled at the memory now, relishing the way he'd openly challenged her and then pulled her tightly against him and kissed her. When would he kiss her again? Tonight? When they were alone?

The moment Pete left, Wayne cleared his throat and rose from the table. “Billie and I are headed toward the fairgrounds, but don't rush. We might take a detour or two along the way.”

“There's lots of street vendors,” Billie added, jumping up from her seat. “Maybe we'll buy some fireworks.”

Jenny recalled Kevin saying fireworks were banned this Fourth of July due to the dry forest conditions, but Billie was already out the door. That left her alone at the table with Nick.

“What was his name?” he asked in a low voice.

“Who?”

“The guy you were engaged to.”

“It doesn't matter,” she said, squirming in her seat. “It was a mistake.”

“I'm glad to see you're wearing
my
ring,” Nick said, leaning back in his chair.

“It was my ring to start with,” she reminded him.

“Yes, but I bought it back for you. Now it symbolizes the engagement of five generations of O'Briens.”

“We are not engaged,” she whispered, and glanced at the men next to them, who were trying to listen in.

“Then why are you wearing it on your left hand?” he challenged.

Suddenly self-conscious, she slipped her hand under the table and out of sight. “To make everyone else
think
we are.”

His lips twitched into a subtle grin as if he didn't believe her.

She looked at the delicately scrolled golden band with its intricate diamond setting and tried to suppress the impulse to think of it as a real engagement ring. She would
not
allow him to win the bet. No matter how good he kissed.

“Heard you gave her the gray mare,” Levi said, wobbling on his cane as he made his way beside them. “Is it true?”

Nick nodded. “True.”

“How could you give her the horse?” another man asked. “If she wins the race, she won't need you. You'll lose the bet and I'll lose all the money I placed on you.”

“I never asked you to bet on me,” Nick said, arching his brow.

A chorus of men's complaints erupted around them, including the words “love-struck softie” and “yellow-bellied loser.” A moment later, half the people filed out of the building.

“Well,” Nick said, glancing at her. “I guess I'm officially branded a loser.”

“You are
not
a loser for giving me the horse,” she protested. “I won't let them think that.”

“The only person whose opinions matter to me is
you
.”

Jenny's heart ripped in half. Not only had he given her the horse she wanted, but he'd sacrificed his reputation for her, and her father had always told her a good reputation was very important to a man. Something he took pride in. There was no egotistical pride on Nick's face as she looked at him now. Only a sweet tenderness that rocked her senses.

He wouldn't win the bet, but she couldn't let the other men mock him for helping
her
win. She had to do something.

Jenny chewed on her bottom lip while considering a plan of action. She'd had enough lessons by now in manipulation to see how it worked. But would it work on Nick? If the other ranchers were ever going to treat him with respect, she needed to help him get his reputation back. But how?

The idea came to her in a flash as she glanced at the silver rodeo buckle on Nick's belt.
The rodeo.
The annual Fourth of July amateur rodeo was being held at the fairgrounds that very afternoon.

Her heart leapt into her throat with excitement. She had to convince Nick to enter at least one of the events. He didn't need to win. He just needed to do fairly well for the other men to admit he was a real man after all.

“You know, there's a rodeo at the fairgrounds later today,” she began with a devious smile . . .

 

Chapter Eleven

N
ICK FOLLOWED
J
ENNY
out of the café and listened distractedly as she rambled on and on about the amateur rodeo at the fairgrounds that afternoon. He'd seen enough rodeos in his life to be fairly bored of the event, but if it made her happy, he'd take her.

His thoughts strayed once again to the fact Jenny had been engaged. Wayne had mentioned she'd been jilted, but he didn't know she'd been jilted by a man she planned to
marry
.

How could she have said yes to a man who would readily dump her for the likes of Irene, and not say yes to
him
?

T
WO HOURS LATER,
Jenny sat next to Nick in the bleachers of the fairgrounds arena as the calf roping got underway.

“He's really good,” she said, nodding to the wrangler on horseback.

“Not
that
good,” Nick said with a frown. “He took too long, and leans too far over in the saddle. He'll never win trying to rope a calf like that.”

“And I suppose you could do better?” she asked, hoping he'd take the bait.

“Of course,” he said with a grin. “I
did
ride professional rodeo.”

“Oh, I forgot,” she said, feigning innocence. “Then again, that was a long time ago.”

“What's
that
supposed to mean?”

“I bet you couldn't do it now.” She cast him a sideways look.

“Of course I could.”

“I'd like to see you try,” she said, mocking him with her tone.

“I don't have a horse.”

“You can ride Kastle.”

“I don't know if that horse is fit for rodeo.”

“You aren't making excuses, are you?” she teased.

“I have a horse you could borrow,” said Kevin Forester, coming up behind them. “His name's Blue Devil, and he's a blue roan quarter horse that ain't seen defeat.”

“I bought a dapple gray named Kastle this morning. The man said the mare beat Blue Devil in a race last weekend.”

“That was on a straightaway,” Kevin told them. “No horse can beat Blue Devil inside an arena. If you ride him, I'll split the prize money with you. I'd ride him myself except I took a fall from a ladder at the fire station two days ago and sprained my wrist.”

“Thanks, Kevin, but I don't think Chandler here has what it takes to make those kinds of moves anymore.”

Nick's face flashed with insulted pride as he squared his shoulders and gave her an indignant look.

“I'll ride,” he said, taking her challenge. “What's the next event?”

“Steer wrestling,” Jenny said, unable to suppress her smile. “Show me how to grab the bull by the horns.”

N
ICK SWALLOWED HARD
as he rose from the bleachers and went down to the registration booth. Did he still have the skills a rodeo demanded? What if he couldn't do it? What if he got himself gored while trying to impress her?

“Either you are as good as you say you are, or you're gonna die,” Wayne said, following behind him.

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“No problem,” Wayne replied with a sidelong grin.

Kevin and Wayne stood on the platform behind the starting gate as Nick mounted Blue Devil and patted the horse's blue-gray neck.

“One of the rodeo clowns is going to be your hazer,” Kevin informed him. “He'll force the steer to run in a straight line next to you, but you'll have to do the rest.”

Nick took another glance across the arena, where Jenny and Billie sat in the crowded stands, and then over to his left, where the steer was trying to break out of his pen. A series of snorts and grunts issued from its nose and mouth, none of them friendly. The animal scraped the door with one of its horns and Nick had the distinct impression it was trying to sharpen the weapons . . . just for him.

Taking a deep breath, he called for the steer and Kevin tripped the lever opening the spring-loaded doors. The large ugly beast burst from the chute. The rodeo clown rode swiftly behind. Nick had to wait for the distancing rope fastened around the steer to break before he could race Blue Devil to catch up with them. Instinct took over. Instinct he'd developed from years of experience from both rodeo and his grandfather's ranch.

Leaning over the side of the galloping horse, Nick grabbed hold of the steer's horns and slid out of the saddle. The black beast shook its head and Nick knew he couldn't let go. He was too close. Close enough to smell the stink in its hair. Close enough, if he wasn't careful, for the beast to stick its horn into him like a skewer.

Using all his strength, he dug his heels into the dirt. A brown cloud of dust enveloped them. Went up his nose and into his mouth. Didn't matter. He'd spit later.

He gave the large head a quick twist, and then, keeping his hold on the far horn, he put the steer's nose in the crook of his left elbow and threw his weight backward. The steer squealed, but it also became unbalanced, enabling Nick to wrestle the formidable six-hundred-pound animal to the ground.

Thunderous applause broke out over the stadium as all four of the steer's feet shot upward.

“Unbelievable,” Kevin exclaimed, running out and gathering Blue Devil's reins. “Your time was under five seconds.”

“Not bad, Chandler,” Wayne said, slapping him on the back, “not bad at all.”

I
N THE STANDS,
Jenny and Billie spontaneously hugged each other, and then jumped up and down clapping like mad. The crowd stamped their feet, making the stands shake beneath them. Several men who had been at the Bets and Burgers Café stood nearby hooting and whistling their approval.

“He can't be all bad, if he can wrestle a steer,” one man proclaimed.

“He may have broken the record for fastest time,” said another.

“I wouldn't doubt it,” a third man replied. “He sure does have quick reflexes. Still, not sure if he should have given up that horse.”

“Giving me the horse doesn't guarantee I'm going to win the race,” Jenny told them. “It's going to be a tough competition.”

“You're right,” the last man agreed. “I have a cousin entering the Pine Tree Dash, and I'm betting he wins the race.”

Everyone in the stands agreed. Except one, but Jenny kept her opinions to herself.

N
ICK AND
W
AYNE
were following Kevin Forrester to his trailer to see his other horses when Jenny drew near with Billie on her heels.

“Geez, you must really like her,” Wayne said, shaking his head. “You wouldn't find me wrestling a steer for a woman's attention.”

“That's what separates the men from the boys,” Billie said, coming up behind them.

“I ain't no boy,” said Wayne.

“Prove it,” Billie challenged. “Team roping is next and Nick needs a partner.”

Wayne looked at the small young woman, whose favorite clothing color had recently lightened from black to blue. Then he looked at her brother.

“I do need a partner,” Nick said, his expression earnest, “a friend I can trust.”

Nick placed a special emphasis on the word “friend,” and Jenny held her breath. It was important for Wayne to accept Nick's offer of friendship if the ranch was to be a success.

Beside her, Billie squeezed her arm. Jenny took one look at the tomboy's taut face and realized Billie was eager for Wayne to accept her brother for reasons of her own.

Wayne took the pack of cigarettes he kept tucked away in the rolled-up sleeve of his T-shirt, and without a word, tapped out a cigarette and lit it with his lighter. First inhaling, and then letting out a stream of smoke, he gave Nick an appraising look.

“I'll ride with you,” he said finally, and reaching out, he clasped Nick's hand in a firm shake.

Jenny could hardly stop smiling as Nick and Wayne mounted the horses Kevin was letting them borrow. As they waited their turn, she climbed up on the fence beside Nick, leaned forward, and gave him a kiss for luck.

“If I win this event,” he told her, his eyes shining, “I want you to promise to go to the Fourth of July dance with me.”

“Nick, I don't dance.”

“You'll learn.”

“I don't even own a decent dress.”

“I'll buy you one.”

Jenny hesitated. She didn't have any intention of going to the dance. Dozens of bet-wagering men asking her to dance was not her idea of a good time. But the chances of Nick winning two events in a row were slim, even with Wayne's help. And Nick was in such a good mood she didn't want to ruin it by fighting with him.

“All right,” she promised, “but only if you win.”

“Each cowboy carries one rope and is allowed three throws,” Billie said as she climbed up on the fence beside her, “and the roping team that went out right before Nick and Wayne was assessed a five-second penalty for roping only one hind foot instead of two.”

Nick and Wayne gave each other a nod.

Jenny knew they would do well. After all, this team event originated from cowboys working on the ranch. To treat injuries, change brands, or brand new stock, the cowboys had to be quick and skilled in roping animals.

As soon as the steer's nose cleared the chute, Nick, who was the designated “header,” left the box first, dropped a looped rope over the steer's horns, and turned the steer away from Wayne, who was the designated “heeler.” Wayne then threw a rope to catch the back legs and time was called when both ropes were pulled tight and he and Nick turned their horses to face each other to “shape the steer.”

“How many seconds was that?” Jenny asked excitedly.

“I don't know, but it had to be less than seven,” Billie said, clapping.

The announcer came over the loudspeaker proclaiming a time of six seconds and the crowds went wild.

“I think they won,” Billie shouted.

T
HE FAMILIAR RUSH
of adrenaline pumped through Nick's veins as the boisterous roar from the crowd deafened his ears. In the past, he'd always ridden in the rodeos for the money, but now that he was riding for pleasure, with Jenny, his sister, and friends by his side, he found he actually enjoyed it.

After he dismounted, Jenny ran up and threw her arms around him. He picked her up and swung her around, giving her a kiss. He was thrilled to be able to do that. She was opening up to him, and kissing him and holding his hand as if she were truly his. She'd even stopped calling him Chandler and had begun using his first name, something he didn't even think she was aware of.

“I'm glad you hooked the horns and not me,” Wayne said with an easy grin. “I wonder what Frank would say about your ‘ability' if he saw what you did today.”

“Frank was in the stands,” Kevin said, taking the horses reins. “He bet against the two of you and lost a lot of money.”

“He was always all talk and no action,” Wayne admitted. “Chandler's a better ranch manager than him any day.”

“You can really ride,” Kevin said.

“Thanks,” Nick said in appreciation.

As they began to walk away, he glanced at Jenny, at her satisfied expression, and stopped in his tracks.

This
was why she had goaded him into entering the rodeo. He didn't care what others thought about him, but apparently,
she did
. He remembered the concern in her eyes at the café when he'd been branded a loser, and the resolve on her face when they'd entered the rodeo arena.

Why, she'd even used some of his own tactics to get him his reputation back. Perhaps she was learning how to play the game after all.

Suddenly Jenny's smile fled, and her whole demeanor changed as she became fixated on something behind him.

“What's the matter?” Nick asked, spinning around.

“He's here.”

“Who?”

Nick followed her haunted gaze to the brown-haired man in the red rodeo jacket and knew the answer before the name left her lips.

“Travis Koenig.”

“Is
that
the man you were engaged to?” Nick demanded.

Jenny nodded. “Do you know him?”

“Yes,” he said, cursing silently. “I know him.”

Travis Koenig was notorious for picking up women in every state along the circuit. The rodeo star had even tried to hook
him
up with a date once or twice.

“Let's leave,” she pleaded, tugging on his hand, “before he walks over to us.”

Nick followed her through the crowd, his mind tormented with unanswered questions.

Why was it that after all these years, Jenny couldn't face her ex? And that Irene could still get her so angry? Was she still in love with Travis?

Just when he thought he couldn't be in more trouble, Alan Simms, the pesky little man from the pack trip who worked for the
Cascade Herald
, jumped out in front of him and snapped his picture with a camera.

“Congratulations on winning the rodeo, Nicholas Lawrence Chandler.”

Nick bristled. The reporter used his middle name. He hadn't told anyone in Pine his middle name for fear they'd put his initials together and learn his identity. Had the reporter investigated his background?

“Tomorrow morning your picture will be on the front page of every newspaper across the country,” Alan Simms continued.

His gut clenched. “Why? Is the steer I wrestled famous?”

“No, but
you
are, and everything a high-profile CEO like you does is newsworthy.”

The man knew who he was
. Nick cast Jenny a startled glance, reached for the reporter's camera, and missed.

The tiny man shot him a devious grin, and scurried backward through the crowd.

No!
His mind screamed in anguish. He couldn't let the man get away. Simms would reveal his true identity and all he had worked for would be lost. Jenny would be lost. He pushed through the crowd after him, caught a quick glimpse of his face, and was almost upon him when the smug reporter suddenly tripped over Billie's outstretched leg.