Bet You'll Marry Me (9 page)

The curvaceous lump beside him wriggled beneath the sheets, and let out a sound that was half giggle, half scream.

Another scream resounded off the walls, one she recognized as her own.

“Jenny, what are you doing here?” Travis said, struggling to sit up.

What
was
she doing here? Travis was obviously not the man she had thought him to be.

“In case you forgot,” she said, forcing the words to her lips, “you were supposed to meet me at the church over an hour ago to get married.”

“He changed his mind.” The feminine voice belonged to Irene Johnson, who suddenly popped her curly blond head out from beneath the sheets and erupted into another giggle as she snuggled into Travis's side.

It was bad enough that he was in bed with another woman, but
Irene Johnson?

“Travis, how
could
you?” Her eyes pricked with tears as hot as burning coals. Stepping back, she turned to leave.

“Jenny,
wait.
Let me explain.”

“
Explain?
How can you possibly explain why you are in bed with that barroom tramp on our wedding day?”

“She doesn't mean anything to me,” Travis said, waving his hand. “
Trust
me.”

Irene's gloating Barbie Doll face fell, and the young woman who had been her high-school rival sprang off the bed, dragging the sheets with her and leaving Travis's naked body exposed.

“How could I ever trust you after betraying me like this?” Jenny demanded, averting her eyes.

“We can still be married,” Travis said, grabbing his pants up off the floor.

“Do you honestly believe I would be stupid enough to marry you now?”

“Your father already signed the papers giving me the southwest section of the ranch to build our home. If you don't marry me, those hundred acres are still mine.”

“Obviously you didn't read the fine print,” she said, her temper flaring at the realization Travis cared more for her land than he did for her. “If we don't get married, the contract becomes null and void.”

Not waiting another moment, she stepped over the threshold and left the room. Her legs trembled as they raced down the stairs. Tears blurred her vision and her throat felt as though it had been sliced. Her stomach began convulsing in alternating waves of sickness and panic.

She had
trusted
him, told him she
loved
him, and was willing to spend the rest of her
life
with him. Didn't it cross his mind she might come looking for him when he didn't show up at the church? Didn't he think to lock the door?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out of her mind, but the image of Travis lying beneath the twisted sheets with Irene came forth with razor-sharp clarity. His voice haunted her as well.

“
Trust me . . .”

What was she to do now? She couldn't possibly go back to the church and face all those people. She
couldn't.

As it turned out, she didn't have to. By the time she made it down the stairs, a large crowd of the men had occupied the tables in the café and ordered drinks. Every eye was upon her as she burst into the room. But her gaze wasn't on them. Not really. Her gaze was on the chalkboard, which had Travis's name written between hers and Irene's.

Later she'd learned the other men had taunted him. Said he'd lost his edge with women. Bet Travis couldn't get Irene to sleep with him that night as a “last fling.” Travis took the bet.

But she suspected as much as soon as she saw the chalkboard. And when the men staring at her realized she knew what had occurred, their faces were not filled with guilt or compassion or concern for her feelings. Unbelievably, the men at the café laughed. They
laughed
, as she stood there in the middle of the room . . . and felt like the loneliest person in the whole world.

From that day forward she let it be known she was through with all of them. Never
,
for as long as she lived, would she
ever
make the mistake of trusting a man again.

But she'd made that vow before Chandler came along and before she'd heard the harps.

Did fate have another plan in mind?

W
HEN THEY ARRIVED
back at the ranch late in the afternoon, the men from the pack trip said their good-byes and left.

“What's the matter?” Billie asked with a frown. “Didn't they have a good time?”

“They didn't get what they wanted,” Jenny informed her.

“What did they want?”

“
Me
,” she said with amusement.

Nick, wearing a big smile, playfully mussed the top of his sister's hair as he passed by.

“
Someone
got what they wanted,” Billie observed.

Heat rushed into Jenny's cheeks and she tried to change the subject. “What were you and Wayne doing by the river?”

Billie and Wayne exchanged a suspiciously guilty look and then Wayne walked away, carrying the two shovels they'd been using in his hand.

“We were digging up some river rock to—” Billie paused. “I'm not going to lie, Jenny. We were searching for the gold.”

Jenny smiled. “Did you find any?”

Billie shook her head and gave her a rueful grin. “No.”

“If you had found gold,” Jenny asked, “what would you do with it?”

“We'd give it to you, of course. But if you were willing to share, Wayne said he'd pay a lawyer to help regain visitation rights with his two girls, and I—I owe a casino owner in New Jersey a chunk of change.”

“Are you and Wayne friends now?”

Billie shrugged. “Wayne bet I couldn't muck out all the stalls before noon and I proved him wrong and made him help dig for gold.”

“What if you lost?”

“I would have had to pay him twenty dollars. But he also said he'd buy me a steak dinner for my effort.”

“Steak dinners aren't cheap. Maybe you should have let him win.”

“Would you let
him
win?” Billie asked, and nodded in Nick's direction.

Jenny hesitated. Of course, she wouldn't let him win. Just because she'd lost her head for a few moments beside the campfire didn't mean she'd lost sight of the prize. But what if she found a big fat gold nugget to solve her financial problems? Would she let Nick win the bet if the money no longer mattered? The truth was, she no longer knew. She'd vowed not to trust any man, but could she trust herself?

Her inability to remain indifferent to Nick Chandler's charm was humiliating enough, but on Monday, the stupid local newspaper had a photo of her kissing Nick on the front page.

Drat! The rat-man had a camera. Appalled, she threw the paper to the living room floor. She hadn't noticed anyone taking her picture. She hadn't been aware of anything while Nick kissed her.

She picked up the newspaper again. The caption beneath the photo read, “Chandler's Chances Looking Good.” She scowled with disgust as she rapidly skimmed the article.

Is the bet over? Newcomer Nick Chandler took ten local men by surprise Saturday night when he announced Jenny O'Brien was his fiancée. Jenny reportedly confirmed his statement and then proceeded to smooch with Chandler for the remainder of the evening.

“I tell you, it was disgusting,” Ted Andrews stated morosely. “She could have had me.”

“She looked happy,” David Wilson commented.

Immediately after this announcement all bets at the Bets and Burgers Café rose in Chandler's favor seven to one.

The floorboards creaked behind her, making her turn with a start. Nick hovered in the doorway, an identical newspaper in his hands.

“It will take more than a kiss to get me to marry,” she said, jumping to her feet.

“How about a dozen kisses?”

Suppressing the urge to smile, she shook her head and made her way down to the stable.

Wayne, Billie, and Josh were in the tack room when she arrived, huddled together in a tight circle.

“What's going on?” she asked, unable to see over their shoulders.

The circle quickly broke apart, but not before she saw the newspaper Wayne stuffed behind his back.

She gasped. “I can't believe you're reading that trash!”

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Wayne teased.

“You know,” said Billie, “if you marry Nick, then we can be sisters.”

“I'm not marrying anybody.”

Josh pulled the newspaper away from Wayne. “It says right here you're engaged.”

“I am
not
engaged,” she shouted in a strangled voice.

Her nerves were raw. They were invading her private space. The tack room was supposed to be the one spot she could go to hide. Now there didn't seem anywhere to hide. Nowhere at all. The walls of the stable were conspiring to close in on her, and escaping into the open fields wasn't an option. Josh waited for his weekly lesson and she was obligated to meet him in the outside arena. Another place of suffocating fences and gates, and tight penned-in enclosures.

Harry sat in a chair by the arena to watch and when she drew near she saw he was reading . . .
Drat! Not another newspaper! Where did they all come from?

Josh Hanson followed her out of the stable and pulled three more papers out of his newspaper delivery bag. “The bet is great for my paper business. Karen Kimball says if I keep selling this many papers I'll be the richest kid in town.”

Harry chuckled. “I see the pack trip was a huge success.”

“No, it wasn't,” Jenny said, and counted to ten to try to control her temper. “The phone has been ringing off the hook. Every single one of the men who booked pack trips for the next three weekends has now canceled. We needed that money, Harry, and now there's even less time before the bank deadline. What am I going to do?”

“You could ride.” Harry flipped the newspaper over and showed her a large ad.

Peering over his shoulder she read, “The annual Pine Tree Dash is to be held on Saturday, July sixth at the East Creek Fairgrounds in Pine.”

“You won the race three years ago, and the money's good.”

“But Starfire isn't performing as well as he used to. I'm afraid his age is catching up with him. I'll need to find a new horse to ride, one I can train within two weeks.”

“You can do it,” Harry said, looking healthier than he had since his collapse. “You're a great trainer. And if you win, you'll have half your bank debt covered a week before the deadline.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she said, hoisting herself up on to Starfire's back. That's exactly what she would do.

She would find a horse to win the race.

 

Chapter Nine

N
ICK LOCKED THE
door to his room. His cell phone stated he'd missed ten messages from N.L.C. Industries. As he returned the call, he brought up the company's files on his computer.

“Where have you been?” Rob Murray demanded.

“On a pack trip,” Nick replied. “What's wrong?”

“Victor Lucarelli says your two weeks are up. If you don't come back to New York to talk to him, he's flying out there to Pine.”

“I'm on my way,” Nick told him. “If anyone found out I'm the CEO of N.L.C. Industries it could ruin everything, especially my relationship with Jenny.”

“You have a relationship now? I thought you considered her a business deal.”

“She's a person,” Nick answered, “and I'm trying to find a way to pull off this deal without Jenny getting hurt.”

“I don't see how that's possible if you take her land. Speaking of getting hurt,” Rob said, dropping his voice. “Are you bringing Billie back with you?”

“No. She'll be safer here, out of Lucarelli's reach.”

“Let me know when you get to the airport and I'll send you a car,” Rob said loyally, “and maybe a bulletproof vest.”

Nick attempted a laugh, but it stuck in his throat. Nothing about his situation was funny. Lucarelli had friends in places no law-abiding citizen would dwell.

Still, he didn't think the man would hurt him as long as there was a chance to recoup the money Billie cheated him. More than flaunting his power, Victor Lucarelli wanted his hundred grand.

Nick arranged his airfare and shut off his computer. Once in New York he'd talk to Lucarelli, tell him about his plans to sell the land parcels to Davenport, and ask for more time.

But what could he tell Jenny? He tried to think of a plausible explanation for his required upcoming absence. He thought of their kiss instead.

Damn
. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave her, even for a day.

W
HEN
J
ENNY FINISHED
with Josh's riding lesson, Nick took her arm and led her down the path toward the river. She didn't question him but walked along by his side. It was clear from his expression he had something important to say.

“I have a confession to make,” said Nick, taking both of her hands in his. “I've been running a small business from my computer at night.”

“Yes, you told me, your company manufactures Fat Happy Horse Treats—pleasing to horses of all temperaments,” she said, careful to keep her tone light.

She'd expected to evoke a smile or a teasing response, but his expression remained serious. Whatever he had to tell her must be worse than she thought. She held her breath and waited for him to begin.

“I need to leave the ranch for a few days to meet with my suppliers in New York.”

He was leaving? Her mouth fell open. It was the last thing she'd expected.

“Well,” she said, and shrugged to suggest she didn't care one way or the other. “Do what you have to do.”

Nick studied her face for a moment and then placed a finger beneath her chin. “Can I have a kiss good-bye?”

She hesitated, afraid if she granted his request, she'd give away too much of herself, too much of her crazy mixed-up feelings. Stopping by the edge of the churning, cajoling river, she turned to face him and lifted her brows. “Why?”

“Because I would like my fiancée to give me one.”

This time he
did
grin, and she relaxed, and smiled back at him. “I am
not
your fiancée.”

“You told the men on the pack trip you were,” he teased.

“Only to stop them from harassing me and you know it.”

Nick took a small black-velvet jewelry case from his pocket and lifted the lid. “I bought you a ring.”

Jenny gasped, stepped back, and then forward again for a closer look. “Where did you get that?”

“The jeweler told me it would make a fine engagement ring. Legend says this ring once sealed the union of two lovers who knew they were destined for each other the moment they heard the harps at Harp Lake. I thought it would be perfectly fitting, since we—”

“You
knew
this was my mother's ring when you bought it,” she accused. “Billie told you, didn't she? Why, this is just another ploy to win the bet!”

“Is it working?”

She shook her head. “This ring wasn't just my parents' engagement ring, it was the engagement ring of my ancestors for four generations. Shamus O'Brien, my great-great-grandfather who found the gold, had it custom designed.”

“It's one of a kind,” Nick agreed, “like
you.
”

“I never would have sold it,” Jenny continued, “if I wasn't so desperate to fix the truck and visit Harry at the hospital. I was afraid of losing him, but to lose this ring . . .” Her voice cracked. “I don't think you understand how much this ring means to me.”

“Oh, I think I
do
,” he said, removing it from the box and slipping it on her finger.

“We are
not
engaged.” She looked from the ring on her left hand to the cunning expression on Nick's face.

“Then if you want to keep it, you'll have to pay me.”

“How?” she choked out. “You know I have no money.”

“You can start,” he said, and leaned closer to give her a direct look, “by giving me a kiss.”

Drat!
He was manipulating her again, but only if she let him. She didn't have to kiss him. She could send him off to New York without so much as a peck.

But something within his expression, something within the innermost depths of his eyes, something even in the way his body stood, made her draw toward him as if pulled by a magnet. She'd wanted to kiss him again ever since the kiss by the campfire, and if it was
her
choice to kiss him, then he wasn't really manipulating her, was he?

Nick met her halfway and she closed her eyes as his warm mouth connected with her own. It was actually terribly sweet of him to have bought the ring back for her, even if he
was
using it to bribe her.

She ran her fingers through the back of his dark silky hair, and pulled him closer. She'd never been kissed like this. With so much intensity and unbridled emotion it seemed she would transcend the universe.

She knew the kiss should end, yet couldn't push him away. Not when he'd be gone for who-knew-how-long, and she'd be left alone on her ranch like the days before he'd come. She didn't want to be alone anymore. Perhaps if they stayed like this, time would stop and they'd never reach the dawn of a lonely tomorrow.

Apparently, Nick felt the same. The fiery kiss spiraled out of control, and the flames of desire soon reached a fevered pitch so high that it threatened to combust into a whole new level of intimacy.

Nick groaned low in his throat as he suddenly tore his mouth away from hers, squeezed her tight in his arms, and buried his face in her hair.

“You
are
what I want.”

He pulled his head back and looked at her as if he expected her to repeat the same words back to him.

But she couldn't. As much as she wanted to, her fragile heart wouldn't let her.

“I really like the way you kiss me,” she admitted.

“Well,” Nick said, smiling at her, “that's a start.”

N
ICK TOOK THE
glass elevator to the top floor of the Winner's Luck Casino in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Upon entry into the private quarters, he forced himself to reach forward to shake Victor Lucarelli's hand. The casino owner ignored the gesture and motioned for him to take a seat opposite him at the square marble table in the center of the room.

A rivet of alarm fastened to Nick's optimism as he pulled his hand back to his side and sat in the stiff-backed chair. This was not going to go well.

“Two weeks are up,” Lucarelli barked. “Do you have the money your sister owes me?”

Nick's mind worked on multiple levels to seek an answer to satisfy the gruff wispy-haired businessman, but there was only one word he could reply.

“No.”

Lucarelli's dark eyes narrowed. “If you don't have the money, then you can't protect her. I
will
make Billie pay.”

“I could give you three twenty-acre land parcels in Pine worth far more than the amount Billie owes you,” Nick offered. “I could also give you the small airstrip my company purchased just south of the town.”

Lucarelli stood up and laughed. “What would I do with a bunch of useless land parcels on the other side of the country?”

“You could open a casino. The locals there love to bet.”

The forty-year-old man, dressed in his fine black business suit, paced in front of the array of mirrors lining the marble-columned wall. “When I heard you and your sister flew to the foothills of the Cascade Mountains I did some research. Pine is barely a spec on the map. You need a magnifying glass to see it. With a population of six hundred and ninety-seven, I'd be better off opening a casino for wood ticks. Why in the world would a fellow businessman like yourself spend time out there? What is it you hope to accomplish?”

“I plan to sell my land parcels to Stewart Davenport, the bank manager in Pine, who has a personal interest in developing the area. But he won't take my land unless I gain the title to an adjoining piece of property owned by a stubborn rancher woman.”

Lucarelli nodded as if he understood. “Women can be a nuisance. So you are trying to convince this woman to sell and then you will have my money?”

“Yes. That's why I need more time. There are other men who are trying to thwart my negotiations with the young woman.”

“Of what interest is her land to them?”

“They think there's a gold mine hidden on the property.”

“Gold?” Lucarelli sat back down in his chair.

“It's just a rumor,” Nick assured him.

Victor Lucarelli's entire countenance warmed and he offered Nick an outstretched hand. “I'll wait a little longer.”

“Thank you,” Nick said, and with a silent sigh of relief, he rose, anxious to head toward the door.

“One minute, Chandler,” Lucarelli called after him.

A big six-foot-six solid muscle of a man crossed his arms over his chest and blocked the exit. Lucarelli's personal bodyguard. Nick stopped, his stomach tight, and turned back around to meet Lucarelli's gaze.

“Just so we're clear—you have two more weeks. If you don't have my money by then, with interest, perhaps even some
golden
interest, I'll expect payment of a different kind.”

“What else could I give you?”

Victor Lucarelli smiled. “N.L.C. Industries.”

J
ENNY FINISHED THE
last of her chores for the day and was wandering aimlessly around the paddock, thinking of Nick. The ranch seemed empty without him. Quiet. Too quiet.

She was about to go into the house to check on Harry, when Wayne and Billie emerged from the barn with shovels and several large window screens tucked under their arms.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asked, catching up to them.

Billie and Wayne exchanged a nervous glance and Jenny clapped her hands together and laughed.

“Are you going back down to the river to pan for gold?”

Billie nodded. “Wayne says the screens will allow us to sift through the sandy river bottom.”

“Can I come?” Jenny looked at Wayne. “Unless, of course, the two of you want to be alone . . .”

Wayne gave Billie a side glance and grinned. “Why would I want to be alone with her? I'm only bringing Billie along because her eyes are closer to the ground than mine. I figure I can use her to spot the gold.”

“I'm not as short as you make me out to be.” Billie lifted her chin. “I'm five foot three—and a half.”

“Yeah, that half inch makes a big difference,” Wayne teased.

“Better than being a beanpole like you.”

Jenny took one of the screens and followed them down the path to the edge of the river. The same place Nick had brought her to propose. Of course it wasn't a real proposal. He was merely bribing her for a kiss. She smiled at the memory, and all the warm fuzzy feelings it aroused.

“I think today is going to be my lucky day,” Billie said, shoveling a mixture of sand and pebbles onto her screen.

“Because you are wearing your lucky color?” Jenny asked, splashing barefoot into the river beside her. She eyed the black cutoff shorts and unflattering black T-shirt Billie was wearing. “Don't you have any clothes that aren't black?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Black complements the way I feel.” Billie shot a quick glance at Wayne and added, “Most of the time.”

“Maybe I'll have to start wearing black if I don't get the money I need to pay my bank debt,” Jenny mused, picking up a rock and turning it over in her hands.

“You'll get the money,” Wayne said, “if you win the bet.”

“If she
doesn't
win the bet, Nick will take care of her,” Billie argued. “She can still have a ranch.”

“But maybe not
her
ranch,” Wayne countered.

“She could have a husband.”

“Or a lot of heartbreak.”

“Babies,” Billie said, splashing water at him.

“Crying and more heartbreak,” Wayne said, splashing Billie back.

“She could have a great sister.” Billie smiled. “Like me.”

“That last part is really debatable,” Wayne teased.

Jenny waved their arguments aside. “I think I found something.”

Billie and Wayne drew close, and Jenny held up a small rock the size of her thumb. The sun's rays sparkled off the gold flecks, mesmerizing each of them for several long seconds.

“This could be the answer to all our problems,” Billie whispered.