Read Miranda And The Ranch Hand (Domestic Discipline Romance) Online
Authors: Coleen Singer
Tags: #Domestic Discipline, #Historical, #Western, #Romance, #Forever Love, #Single Woman, #Bachelor, #Adult, #Erotic, #Spanking, #Anal Play, #Victorian, #19th Century, #BDSM, #Short Story, #Older Brothers, #Finishing School, #Veterinary School, #Austin, #Texas, #Ranchers, #Livestock, #Undercover, #Law Enforcement, #Ranch Hand, #Rustling Cattle, #Part Owner, #Headstrong
“Now, Mr. Texas Ranger, unless you want to see this pretty little thing’s brains splattered across the field like those horses, I suggest you and your boys put down your guns.” The bandit cocked the gun to prove he was serious.
Dylan’s eyes locked on Miranda’s. There was fear, confusion and anguish as she had glanced at the dead horses. He sent her a look, urging her to trust him. She nodded imperceptibly. Then Dylan fired—taking the gunman down with a shot to the head.
Dylan rushed to Miranda. Just as he got to her, she saw a flash. One of the other two renegades had gone for his gun and was aiming up at Dylan. “Dylan!” she screamed and pushed him down. Dylan rolled over and fired, at the same time one of the other Rangers did, too. They fired three times, but not before he got off one shot.
At first she didn’t feel any pain—just pressure in her back as she collapsed to the ground. Then the sharp pain and sensation of burning flesh hit. She felt someone’s arms around her and heard her name in an anguished cry before everything went black.
* * *
It was three days before her fever broke and she finally came around. The bullet had caught her in the side and gone clean through—but infection set in, as it often did with bullet wounds, and she had to fight for her life. Dylan never left her side, even when her brothers got back and urged him to rest. He tried to give her his strength. He told her how much he needed her and wanted her.
On the evening of the third day, he was staring out her bedroom window at another brilliant Texas sunset, praying. “I know I’m not much of a God-fearing man, but don’t take this woman. I think I love her.”
“I think I love you too cowboy, or should I say Ranger?”
The voice was weak, but he’d never heard sweeter words. “Miranda!”
She tried to lift her head, but was hit with a flashing pain.
“Don’t try to move, Mandy, you’ve been through a hell of a three days.”
“Dylan, there’s not an inch of my body that doesn’t hurt right now.”
“That’s nothing compared to the walloping you’re going to feel when you recover, young lady.” The words sounded stern, but Marcus had tears in his eyes as he said them, and a grin his face.
David followed him into her room and winked at her. “Oh, I don’t know, big brother. I have a feeling that enforcing the law with Mandy may be Dylan’s job now.”
They all laughed and Dylan reached over to lightly kiss her swollen lips.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she whispered.
Miranda watched out her bedroom window till all she could see was a distant cloud of dust kicked up by Dylan’s horse. Tears shimmered under her lashes and she felt a physical ache that had nothing to do with her bullet wound.
It had been a week since she came around from her infection-induced fever. Dylan had been at her side almost constantly, watching over every aspect of her recovery. He had been adamant that she not leave her bed until the doctor said it was safe, but he had kept her from going stir crazy. They had talked about everything—his life as a Ranger, her desire to be accepted as a veterinarian, and what might lie ahead in the future. She was in love with this man, and now he was gone, and she didn’t know when he’d be back.
She knew Dylan had stayed as long as he possibly could after the renegades had been caught. He and his partners had questioned the two surviving bandits, but they didn’t get anything from them about who was behind the killing raids and why. She knew that worried Dylan and her brothers. The random slaughter of cattle and horses just didn’t make sense to any of the area ranchers. And without answers, whoever was behind the vicious killings might just hire another group of renegades to continue the attacks.
But even with that possibility, Dylan was still called back to Houston. Texans with some honor had finally regained control of the state legislature and the Rangers were being restored to their pre-Civil War status as an independent law enforcement unit for the state. No longer would they be part of a fractious US army, which they had been absorbed into when Texas rejoined the Union. Even though the Union tried to make them soldiers, the Rangers still managed to keep their Texas independence.
The legislature had created two separate units. Dylan expected to be assigned to a Frontier Battalion unit, which would deal with lawlessness in and around Texas communities—helping local sheriffs or being the arm of the law when there wasn’t local law enforcement. The other unit, the Special Force, would deal with Indian raids and keeping the borders safe against the Mexicans or any other invader.
Dylan would request permanent assignment to Austin. Since it was now the established capitol, he figured there would definitely be a group of Rangers working out of the city. Any city growing as fast as Austin had more than its share of desperados.
If he didn’t get the assignment he wanted, Dylan said he would just quit and work fulltime at the Double-R. Her brothers had made it clear he had a place at the ranch. But Dylan was second generation Texas Ranger—his father had been among the original Rangers in the 1830s. Miranda knew it would be really tough for him to give it up and it touched her heart that he was willing to do it for her.
Miranda knew all this, but she couldn’t help the bereft feeling she had at his leaving—like the chill in the morning out on the trail when the campfire had burned itself out overnight. Of course Dylan did manage to leave one part of her body warmed up!
An indignant frown replaced her sad look as she remembered their parting. She loved him, but he could be so bossy. Instead of words of caring when he came up to say good-bye, he had droned on about rules. No getting out of bed without someone in the room. No going up or down stairs. No going outside, and definitely no riding, or even visiting the stables. She couldn’t help herself—she had told him what he could do with all his rules.
Of course he was swift to react to her response. He had been sitting on her bed, and had gently, but quickly rolled her over onto her stomach and landed a half-dozen hurtful swats to her backside. It happened so fast and she was so surprised, she had hardly registered the stinging sensation before he’d rolled her back over and kissed her with such passion! The warmth from her bottom quickly spread to her whole body.
Then he was gone with the parting words that if she didn’t take care of herself and follow doctor’s orders, she’d get a real walloping when he returned… as if her brothers would let her wait till Dylan came back if she didn’t behave!
The problem was, she was healing, but cooped up in her room, she wasn’t getting her strength back fast enough to suit her. And now with Dylan gone, she began to think she knew how the wild mustangs must feel when they were herded into a corral for the first time. Her spirit longed for the restoring powers of a long, wide-open ride across the north pastures, or just a few hours in the stables working with the horses—seeing to their feed and health, even mucking out a few stalls—anything to get out of the house. She paced, trying to figure out how she could escape the room she now saw as a cage. Unfortunately, she was still so weak, it only took about ten minutes of pacing before she completely exhausted herself and had to go back to bed.
Mandy was sleeping heavily when Jenna brought up her dinner tray that night, and when Marcus came in to check on her before turning in. He thought again how close they came to losing her and vowed to keep an eye on her. He had always admired her adventurous spirit and fearlessness—but too often it lead to recklessness with her own safety, especially if some other living creature was in danger or pain. When she let it slip that she had ignored Dylan’s order to stay put the night of the shootings, and that’s how she was captured by the renegade leader, he was furious. Of course his anger was nothing compared to Dylan’s. The Texas Ranger had exploded like a misfired rifle. Both of them had promised Miranda she would get the spanking of her life when she was fully recovered.
Marcus smiled when he thought of Mandy and Dylan together. It was just possible Mandy had met her match in that one! Marcus could see how much Dylan cared for his sister when he refused to leave her side during her feverish fight for consciousness. He didn’t imagine there was much that Dylan was afraid of, but he saw the same terror in his eyes that Marcus and David had felt when they all thought she might die. He had also seen the love in Mandy’s eyes for Dylan—he just hoped she wasn’t opening herself up for heartbreak, falling for a Texas Ranger.
He did have to chuckle though, thinking back just a few weeks to remember that this was the same sister who had burst into his office and thrown a full-blown temper tantrum, demanding that he “fire the arrogant new ranch hand immediately.” That had been Dylan’s first full day on the ranch, before they knew he was really a Ranger working undercover.
* * *
“Well, Miss Miranda, I have to say, you’re healing quite nicely,” the doctor said when he came to check on her. “We’re not ready to take the stitches out just yet, but there’s no sign of infection around the wound. But with a gunshot wound that goes straight through like that, you’ve still got a lot of internal healing to do. That means, young lady, you’ve got to continue to take it easy or you’ll bust your stitches and start bleeding again.”
Miranda groaned. She’d spent another three days stuck in her room and she was beginning to understand why animals caught in the jaws of a trap chewed off their own paws to be free. “Please, Doc, I’m withering away up here! Can’t I at least get dressed and sit outside for a little while each day? I’m like a growing thing—I die without sunshine.”
She sounded so pitiful, the doctor relented. “All right, a few hours downstairs everyday—but you stay away from anything with four legs until your stitches come out. And you’d better have one of your brothers carry you up and down the stairs. Climbing stairs could pull your stitches out, not to mention it would be very painful for you.”
“Oh, I promise I’ll be careful! Thanks so much, Doc.” She reached up and gave him an exuberant kiss on the check. The doctor figured anything that could make his patient that happy, had to be good medicine.
For the next week or so, Miranda did exactly as the doctor ordered. She dressed and then waited for Marcus or David to carry her downstairs. She sat on the porch and watched from a distance as Howie Winger and his nephew Mickey worked with the horses. She longed to walk down to the corral and stables, but her brothers had been adamant. No further than the porch until the doctor said it was all right.
By the second week of her release from her bedroom confinement, she was spending the whole day downstairs and even helping their housekeeper Jenna in the kitchen. She also spent a little time each day working on the animal clinic she was trying to get established in an unused barn. All her brothers would let her do was supervise the work of the ranch hands, but at least she felt like she was doing something.
Then it happened—a morning neither of her brothers came up to get her. Jenna finally came up and told her that they and several ranch hands rode out very early to deal with a brush fire in the south pasture. Mandy knew that was where the longhorns were for the summer. If it was a bad fire, there could be injured or burned cattle.
“Jenna, I’ve got to get out there. They’ll need me if any of the cattle are hurt. You’ve got to help me get out to the south pasture.”
“Mandy, Marcus would skin me alive if I help you. He specifically told me to make sure you stay put.”
“Well, you can help me or not, but I will get out there.” And with those words, she changed from her day dress to jeans and a soft cotton shirt. Jenna winced as she saw Mandy’s wound, which still looked pretty ugly.
“Mandy, you’re going to pull out those stitches just days before the doc takes them out, and you’ll end up right back in bed. Please don’t go.” But she was pleading with Miranda’s quickly retreating back. She was out the door and headed for the stairs. As soon as she started down, she understood why the doc still wanted someone to carry her up and down stairs. Each step pulled hard at her side, causing a sharp pain. But all she could think about was the animals that could be in bad shape.
Miranda finally made it downstairs and headed for the main barn to get the buckboard hitched. She saw Mickey in the stables and told him to hitch up the team while she got her medical bag and as much salve and bandages as she could find.
“Miss Miranda, are you sure you should be riding out of here?”
“Mickey, I’m going with or without help.”
“All right, miss, I’ll take you. But somehow I don’t think your brothers will be too happy to see you… or me for that matter!”
Mandy had to smile at that. “I could say I forced you at gunpoint if you’d like.”
Mickey just grumbled and got the workhorses hitched up to the wagon and then helped Miranda climb in. He could see the flash of pain across her face as she stepped up, but it was quickly covered with a look of determination that told Mickey it would be useless to argue with the boss lady. He took the reins, thinking all along that his uncle would likely take his head off for bringing her out to the fire.
They could see the smoke long before they got close to the south pasture. As expected, the ranch hands had driven the frightened cattle to the edge of the pasture near the river, figuring they’d be safer near the water. Miranda could easily see several of the herd had suffered burns to their legs. It also looked like there were some injured cattle, probably from a stampede in panic. She immediately went to work, directing Mickey to wet down her bandages.
Before she could even treat many of the animals she first had to calm them down enough to avoid getting kicked or trampled herself. As she focused on the cattle, her own pain and exhaustion slipped away. Hours passed before her brothers and the other cowboys got ahead of the fire and were able to stop it with a firebreak. Then they headed back to the river to tend to the injured and burned cattle, despite their own exhaustion.
Marcus was the first to notice Mandy. “Dammit, will that girl never listen to anything for her own good.”
As he rode toward her, he could see she was working almost in slow motion—dirt, sweat and blood covering her arms and shirt. Then she turned her back to him and he saw a growing spot of blood where her exit wound was. The next thing Miranda knew, there were strong, but gentle arms lifting her and carrying her to the buckboard.
“I swear, Miranda… one of these days...” The concern she saw in his eyes was mingled with anger, but she couldn’t give up yet.
“Please, Marcus, put me down—there’s only a few more cattle to be tended too—then I’ll go directly to bed, I promise.”
“Mandy, you’re bleeding—you’ve obviously busted your stitches. You’re not going to do any of these animals any good if you bleed to death. For crying out loud—you’re a trained doctor. You damn well should know better than to risk your own recovery coming out here.”
Miranda knew he was right, but she could no more stay away than he or David could. As he carefully laid her in the back of the wagon, he yelled for David to go fetch the doctor. Without her intense focus on treating the longhorns, her own pain started to reach into her consciousness—it was almost as bad as the first week after she was shot.
As the wagon reached the house, Marcus was surprised to see Dylan come flying out the door wearing a look a panic mixed with the same anger he felt. Dylan stopped short at the sight of Marcus covered in dirt and soot.
“What the hell happened—are you alright? Where’s Mandy? Jenna said she took off out to the south pasture, but she was a little incoherent about why.” Then Dylan noticed Miranda lying in the back of the wagon and abruptly shut-up, the color draining from his face.
Marcus jumped down and carefully lifted Miranda out of the wagon. She was pale as a harvest moon and her face told a story of intense pain. She looked up, saw Dylan, thought she was dreaming and then promptly passed out.