Amanda was still reeling from that parting shot when the man spun on his heel and stormed into his house. The door slammed behind him loud enough to make the sparkling glass panes in the windows rattle.
"Think you understand a bit better now, princess?" Jake asked harshly. "I told you it wouldn't work out with us. Now you know why."
Amanda could feel Jake's gaze on her as she scrambled off the horse, but she was too furious to give a damn. "Why of all the—!"
"Leave Bannister alone, princess. It doesn't concern you."
"I will not leave him alone. And I resent you thinking I should. Whether you like it or not, Jake Chandler, this entire incident most certainly does concern me!" With jerky motions she unstrapped the heavy saddlebag and tossed it onto the ground. Unmindful of the dirt she was grinding into the only decent dress she now owned, Amanda knelt in front of the saddlebag and tore open the flap. With jerky movements, she upended the leather satchel and scattered the contents around her. She sneered when she found what she was looking for—and lots of it, too!
Her fingers were still trembling; she had to count the money four times before she could be sure she had the right amount. Standing on watery knees, she walked around the mare, stopping only when she was close to Jake. She could have touched him if she'd wanted to. She didn't. It was bad enough he was so near she could feel every masculine inch of him invade her.
"Here." With a toss of her head, she glanced up at him.
He met her glare with one insolently cocked brow. "What?"
"Here!" Both of her hands were curled around fistfuls of money. She lifted them, and slammed her fists simultaneously into Jake's rock-hard gut. If his whooof of surprise was anything to go by, she had done an admirable job of catching him off guard. Good. She wanted him off guard. She wanted his arrogant head reeling; the same way hers had been ever since she'd first set eyes on him. "Your money, Mr. Chandler. That is what you came here for, isn't it?"
Yes, it was. And since they both obviously knew it, Jake saw no reason to deny it. He was, however, shocked that he hadn't had to hunt Amanda down and wheedle it out of her. That, he'd been prepared for, expecting even. One of the many things he wasn't prepared for was the way Amanda let go of the money at the first touch of his fingers grazing hers.
Jake's wounded arm screamed a protest as he caught most of the bills, but not all. A few stray ones fluttered to the ground or were caught by the chilly afternoon breeze. He didn't see them. His gaze was riveted on Amanda—would the lady never cease to surprise him? He watched her stomp back to her saddlebag. Again, she knelt, and again she yanked money out of the shadowy interior. But only one handful this time.
Jake frowned. "Now what the hell are you doing?"
Was Jake laughing at her? Amanda's gaze snapped to him, but she didn't see even a hint of a grin. She'd smelled liquor on his breath, so maybe he was drunk; that would explain it. One thing was for certain, his tone had been riddled with amusement. That served only to rile her all the more. "Watch and find out!"
She slammed up the porch stairs, then hammered on the door with her free fist. It was opened too quickly for Edward Bannister to have been doing anything but standing on the other side, watching through the shield of curtains and glass.
"Now what?" he snapped, his gaze volleying between her and Jake. "I thought you'd left."
"I'm going," Amanda said tightly. "Believe me, I don't want to be here a second longer than I have to. Unfortunately, I forgot one minor detail."
"Which is?"
Amanda cast him her sweetest smile and, with more force than was necessary, punched her money-laden fist smack into the center of Edward Bannister's bony chest. The man's breath poured from his lungs; the sound was more satisfying than anything Amanda could remember having heard in ages!
Bannister staggered backward from the blow, his expression half surprise, half pain. Since he hadn't realized Amanda had anything in her hand, he made no move to grab the money. Pity. The second her fingers uncurled, crinkled bills showered the porch floor. "What the—?"
"It's money, Mr. Bannister. Your money, to be precise. I've decided I don't want it."
Bannister's gaze rounded on the bills that were scattered over his shoes, over the whitewashed planks, everywhere. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. Obviously he'd never had anyone throw money in his face before. Especially if that money was originally his. It gave Amanda a sense of supreme satisfaction to know she was the first.
"A-are you crazy?" Bannister stammered. He bent and automatically started gathering up the bills before the breeze could toss them to who knows where.
"Yes, I must be," Amanda said in a tone that would have done any tea social justice—calm, cool, collected... savage. "I'm crazy to have taken a job where my employer was a prejudiced bastard like yourself. Lord knows what I was thinking."
Jake grinned. He knew damn well what he was thinking: that his prissy little white princess had lost her cotton pickin' mind! He didn't say that, though. He couldn't. For the first time in his life, a woman had left him speechless.
He found his voice fast enough when Amanda spun on her heel and stalked toward the mare. Her face was flushed with fury, her green eyes sparkling with contempt. Her jaw was set in a hard, determined line that said... Jesus, she really was going to leave all that money behind! "Amanda..."
"Oh, shut the hell up, Jake," she snapped irritably. "I know what I'm doing."
"I doubt that, princess. I really do." Jake brought himself up short, a scowl furrowing his brow. Had Amanda just cussed? Amanda?
"Is that so? Well, this may come as a surprise to you, but I don't really give a damn what you think of me. Not anymore."
She swung up onto the mare, but didn't leave. Not yet. There was still one more tiny matter to take care of.
Her attention shifted to Jake, and she pierced him with a furious glare. "You're right. I should have listened when you said it wouldn't work out between us." Oh, but she liked the way Jake squirmed when she said that! And that red tinge to his copper cheeks was a heady sight. "But," she added tightly, leaning toward him, "not for the reasons you seem to think. You see, whether you believe it or not, Jake, it never mattered to me what color your skin is. White, red, black, green, I never gave a damn. I look at the man inside the skin. And when I look at you, I see only half a man. Sorry, but that isn't enough for me. You aren't man enough for me, Jacob Blackhawk Chandler!"