Georgia's Gamble [A Historical Fiction Novel; The Pratt Chronicles Book 1]

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Benjamin Tucker

I sat slouched at the table in the Lone Star Ranch jockey quarters, fingers tapping absently on the worn wood as the guys around me threw their bets into the pot. The air was thick with the familiar scents of the ranch—dust, hay, and the faint musk of horses. A couple of lanterns flickered on the walls, casting long shadows across the cramped room. The steady hum of crickets from outside filtered in, mixing with the low murmur of voices and occasional burst of laughter.

"Ben, you gonna play, or just stare at your cards like they'll magically turn into aces?" Joe quipped, leaning back in his chair with that damn smug grin he always wore. The guy couldn't help himself when he knew he was winning. "Or, lemme guess—you're thinking about *her* again."

I forced a tight smile, glancing down at the cards in my hand. A pair of nines—nothing spectacular. But even with a full house staring me in the face, I wouldn't have been able to concentrate. Not when all I could see in my mind was Georgia earlier that day, standing out by the paddock, sunlight catching in her hair, that confident way she commanded attention without even trying.

"Yeah, sure, I'm thinking about my *strategy*," I muttered, trying to push her out of my head and focus on the game. But it was pointless. My mind kept drifting back to her—how she moved around the ranch like she owned the place, because hell, she pretty much did. Georgia was more than just the boss's daughter; she was the heart of Lone Star Ranch. She had this quiet strength, this effortless way of commanding respect, and lately, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

"Right, strategy," Marcus drawled, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. He was enjoying this way too much. "Or maybe you're wondering what the boss's daughter thinks of you? It's written all over your face, man."

I shot him a glare, but it only made the guys laugh harder. I should've seen it coming—the way I acted around Georgia had become a running joke among the jockeys. I didn't talk about it, didn't admit to anything, but apparently, I didn't need to. Every time she came around, I'd stiffen up, try to act casual, and probably fail miserably. She had this way of turning me inside out without even knowing it.

"You gonna bet, or just sit there?" Joe asked, cutting through my thoughts as he tapped the table impatiently. "Come on, Ben. We've been at this for twenty minutes, and you've barely said a word."

I looked at my hand again. The numbers blurred, and I cursed under my breath. I didn't even care about the cards. All I could think about was how Georgia had smiled at me earlier, that brief moment when our eyes had met. It was like the whole world had tilted for just a second. And then, just as quickly, she was back to business, giving orders to her brothers, getting things done like she always did.

"All in," I said abruptly, shoving my chips into the center of the table. It was reckless, and I knew it. The other guys exchanged glances, half surprised, half amused.

Joe leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. "All in? Just like that? You sure you're not playing for something else, man? 'Cause I think you've got a bit more riding on this hand than just a few chips."

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the heat rising in my face. "Just play the damn cards, Joe."

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "You've got it *bad*, Ben. I mean, I get it—Georgia's a hell of a woman. But you gotta keep your head in the game, man. Especially if you're gonna try to impress her."

Impress her? I wasn't even sure what I wanted. Georgia wasn't just some girl I could flirt with—she was *Georgia*, the boss's daughter. Tough, beautiful, way out of my league. I'd seen her break in horses that could tear a man apart, watched her handle ranch hands twice her size without breaking a sweat. Hell, I'd probably look like an idiot next to her.

Joe threw his cards down first, smirking like he'd already won. Full house. Marcus wasn't far behind, showing off a straight.

"Well, boys, looks like we cleaned out old Ben here," Marcus said with a wide grin, raking in the pile of chips. "You're off your game, man."

I glanced down at my hand, realizing too late I'd gone all in with nothing. Just a pair of nines. Idiot move. My mind had been too full of Georgia to even notice.

"Yeah, you got me," I muttered, tossing my cards onto the table, defeated. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing the back of my neck as the rest of the guys laughed and traded more jabs at my expense.

"Seriously, Ben," Joe said, giving me a look that was almost sympathetic. "You ever gonna tell her? Or are you just gonna keep acting like a lovesick colt every time she's around?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. What was I supposed to say? Admit that every time I saw Georgia, I felt like the ground was shifting beneath me? That I could barely get a word out when she was near because all I could think about was what it'd be like if things were different? If I wasn't just a jockey working her father's ranch?

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, forcing a smile. "I'll get around to it. Maybe."

"Sure you will," Marcus said, giving me a knowing look. "But just so you know, you're about as subtle as a damn bull in a china shop."

I managed a weak laugh, but inside, it felt like a knot had formed in my chest. They weren't wrong. I had it bad, and no amount of pretending otherwise was going to change that.

As the guys started a new hand, their voices fading into the background, I couldn't help but glance out the window toward the house in the distance. The lights from the ranch glowed in the fading evening light, and I knew she was probably in there, sorting through ranch paperwork or discussing tomorrow's plans with her dad.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if I'd ever figure out how to get Georgia out of my head—or if I even wanted to.