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“And you don’t?”
“It’s not that. It’s just I’m more a realist. I know the bride walking down the aisle has a forty-percent chance of getting divorced. The golden anniversary couple has probably gone through hell and back to get to fifty years. And the ninety-year-old man would probably rather be back at his care facility watching The Price Is Right than there with his family who doesn’t even come to visit him more than once a month.”
“Obviously, you’re the type of person who looks on the bright side,” he said.
She laughed. “I guess I’m not a realist as much as a pessimist.”
“So it’s not your dream you’re working the long hours for, it’s your sister’s?”
She shrugged. “I don’t really have a dream. So why wouldn’t I help Belle achieve hers?”
“You don’t have a dream? I don’t believe that. Everyone has a dream. Even if it’s a small one.”
A look passed over her face. A look of . . . longing? But it was gone before Jesse could be sure.
“Not me,” she said. “Dreams rely on too many variables. I like goals much better. When I set goals, I know exactly what I have to do to achieve them. I make a list of smaller goals to meet the bigger one.”
“And what smaller goals have you made to win the bet with me? Besides avoidance.”
She smiled evilly. “As if I’m going to tell you. Never share your secrets with your opponent.”
He tipped his head. “Are we opponents? Because it’s starting to feel like we’re friends.”
“Do you always seduce your friends?”
“I don’t have a lot of friends—males or females. I move around too much.”
“What about Corbin? I thought he was your friend.”
He realized he’d stepped right into that one. For a moment, he thought about telling her that Corbin was his half brother. But then he thought better of it. It would only make her distrust him more. For some reason, and not just winning the bet, he wanted her trust.
“He is, but he’s about it.”
She nodded. “I don’t have a lot of friends either. But my reason has more to do with being too busy.”
He hesitated. “Then maybe we should give friendship a try.” Where had that come from? Liberty looked as surprised as he felt.
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you no longer plan to seduce me?”
“Oh, no, I plan to seduce you. A bet is a bet. But I don’t know why we can’t be friends too.” He uncrossed his arms and straightened. “Now what can I screw up next, Madam Chef?”
Surprisingly, the dinner rolls didn’t turn out half bad once they were baked. They looked like some kind of blistered skin disease, but they tasted good. The rest of the meal was amazing. Jesse ate seconds of the roasted chicken and thirds of the roasted parsnips. He’d never had roasted parsnips, but he would from now on.
When dinner was over, he volunteered to clean up. At least that was something he was proficient at. Shirlene and Billy hadn’t made their kids cook, but they were firm believers in everyone helping to clean up. Mimi and Darla started to help, but he shooed them out of the kitchen. Liberty didn’t offer. As soon as he started clearing the table, she headed out the back door. He figured she wouldn’t make it easy for him to find her before he had to leave.
“You better watch yourself, boy.”
He turned to see Hank standing there giving him the evil eye. “Excuse me, sir?”
“My wife and mama seem to think you’re a good man who will turn out to be our savior. I think you’re a slick-talkin’ con artist who has set his sights on my daughter and is willing to play both sides of the fence to get what he wants.” Hank pointed a finger at him. “But I’ll tell you this. Taking the ranch is one thing—I can’t hold you or Corbin accountable when I’m the one responsible for getting my mama to sign that contract—but my baby girl is another matter. You hurt her and I promise I’ll do more than just show you the end of my shotgun.”
Jesse cleared his throat. “Understood, sir.”
Hank gave him a brief nod before he started helping him clear the table. Jesse wasn’t about to refuse his help. Thankfully, once the table was clear and the dishes in the sink, Hank headed into the living room.
After Jesse got the dishes washed and dried, he figured he’d have to hunt for Liberty. But as soon as he stepped out the back door, he saw her swinging on the rope swing that hung from a big oak tree. It was dark, but the light on the side of the barn illuminated her. With her bare feet pumping and her braids flying, she looked like a little girl.
He moved in front of her and when she sailed toward him, he reached out and tickled the bottoms of her feet. She released a giggle before she swung out of the light and into the darkness. When she came back, she was scowling.
