Free Betting on Hope by Debra Clopton

little upset. I’m taking Maggie to see Bertha.” He nodded at something Bo on the other end of the conversation said. “Yeah, he’s calm now, but I don’t know for how long. And put Solomon behind the doggie gate until we figure out what to do about this. We can’t have him biting people.”
    He ended the call and slid the phone back into its case and led the way to his truck. He opened the door then slipped his hand beneath her elbow to help her inside. She was glad of it. Her arm was throbbing now.
    She hadn’t wanted to come here. Had forced herself to pack her things into her car and head toward Wishing Springs and this . . .
    This was not the start of this ridiculous venture that she’d expected.
    But like everything else about this deal, it was out of her control.
    Maggie didn’t do out-of-control very well.

6
    Tru drove toward town. He hadn’t wanted Maggie here, but he certainly didn’t wish her any ill will. Finding her stuck beneath the massive bed he’d built in high school shop class had been a shocker.
    “This is all so messed up.” Maggie slouched in her passenger seat beside him, pain etched on her pretty features. “If this is a sign of what’s to come, then we’re in more trouble than I thought.”
    “I’m sorry you’re hurt and I’m getting you to the doc to take care of that, but this isn’t exactly my fault. Maybe we should leave this conversation for another time.”
    “Sure, maybe after we get back and one of your horses tosses me off in the name of fun?” she said, in a dismal tone.
    He slid an accusing glance her way. “You didn’t have to offer up that challenge like you did.”
    Her green eyes flared. “You were the one who touched me. There’s no touching during an interview. And then you had to turn those honey-colored eyes so the camera could read your concern.”
    “Isn’t that a pretty way of puttin’ it? I was concerned, if you have to know.”
    “So, the best plan of action would have been to keep that concern to yourself. Not let the public see it and put their own spin on it.”
    “Like I said, you’re the one who threw out that ridiculous bet to me.”
    “I was nervous. And you were the one holding my hand.”
    He scowled and watched the road. “This is going to be a long two months. Just so you know, I don’t want to do this, but my sponsors pay me to do the promotions they want and that includes this. They obviously want this bad, because every one of them are on board. My hands are tied.”
    “Kind of like you tied mine when you insisted we go outside the Bull Barn and see your horse? I’m in just as deep, or deeper, than you are, cowboy. Have you seen how many people have looked at that video and watched me—” she clamped her mouth tight and stared out the windshield.
    Guilt piled on Tru like a mudslide. He’d never called and checked on her after he’d learned that he was going to be forced into this situation. After realizing she’d probably set him up. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I really am. I had no idea. But you set me up.”
    Her expression could have melted the Antarctic. “Set you up?”
    “That bet was premeditated.”
    “How was I supposed to know you were going to brag about teaching anyone to ride? And do you seriously think I have any interest in getting on a cutting horse after what happened? My coordination isn’t my pride and joy. It’s embarrassing, but true.”
    She sounded completely disgusted with herself and authentic. And just like the day of the interview, he found himself wanting to make her feel better. “I thought it was those red high heels. It was a poor choice of attire.”
    “If the Bull Barn had had a paved parking lot like a normal business establishment, then my shoe choice wouldn’t have mattered,” she huffed, her cheeks burning prettily.
    “I hate to break it to you, but Wishing Springs isn’t Houston. We don’t find the need to pave every extra piece of ground there is.” He pulled into