Meeting Her Match (12 page)

He whooped. “Not hardly! What do those guys do when they aren't playing checkers?”

“Who knows? Lease their land to some rich doctor or lawyer, I think. They're just retired and not too happy about it.”

They grinned, then chuckled, then lapsed into silence again. Sheri loved the sound of his laughter. She looked up at him and they studied each other for a long moment, the air still between them.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me? No.” She didn't want to get started on her reasons for not wanting a family. Her mother's words that “people like them weren't the marrying kind” and her family history rose to the surface and tainted the evening. She looked away from him but could feel his eyes on her.

“Tell me about you,” she said, anxious to get off the subject of herself.

“Tell you what?”

“Everything. About life as a buckaroo. I'm fascinated by the thought of it.” She studied him for a moment.

He nodded, but she knew he hadn't missed her ploy to take the focus off her. She could see it in his eyes.

“You already figured out that I'm not much of a mixer.”

She laughed out loud, and he shook his head but smiled.

“I always found comfort in being out under the stars in the quiet country. I never minded going into town, but I never had much patience for people. Groups especially.” He looked up and gave a half smile. “I tended to lose my temper and go back home mad. Most of the time before I finished all my business.”

“I have to say, I saw that coming.” Sheri pictured him that first day she met him unloading his truck. “You can be a bear sometimes.”

His smile was sheepish. “Yeah, well so can you.”

“Hey, don't go there, buckaroo.”

He laughed at that, holding her gaze with that steady intensity that did things to her insides.

“Why do they call men like you buckaroos? I thought a cowboy was a cowboy. Until I saw you.”

“Buckaroo means cowboy. It comes from the Spanish word
vaquero.
But, there are differences. Buckaroos work more in Idaho, Oregon, California, and Nevada. The Great Basin area.”

She tugged on the tip of his neckerchief. “It doesn't have anything to do with the way you dress?”

He nodded. “That, too. Buckaroos tend to dress more of the old-fashioned way. Some of it is heritage, paying homage to where we came from, and some of it is that this way of dress worked all those years ago and it works for the buckaroo today.”

“How so?” Sheri was intrigued.

“Well, if I'm out there alone a hundred miles from the next person, I've got everything I need with me in my gear. A cowboy, on the other hand, isn't that far from town or a bunk. His saddlebags don't need to be full, and his clothes don't need to offer him as much protection. If he wants to wear a polo shirt, he can. To my mind, that's not appropriate. But he doesn't need to think about that shirt protecting him from the elements, like too much sun or the chill of the night. He might not wear a neckerchief because he knows going out that day that he's only goin' to be out there for an hour or two. A buckaroo's generally going to be out there all day. Maybe all night.”

“That's why a buckaroo needs to be more of a loner type.”

He met her steady scrutiny and nodded. “That goes without saying. Ranches being the size they are and making neighbors scarce, a buckaroo knows he's choosing a solitary lifestyle. Most times he chooses that lifestyle
because
of that fact, not despite it.”

“That's why I don't get it,” she said at last. He glanced sideways at her. “Obviously, you loved it. You chose it. Why give up what you loved to move here?”

“Because I felt like the Lord called me to give it up.”

Sheri stiffened. Lacy had thought the same thing when she'd talked Sheri into moving to Mule Hollow, but Sheri hadn't ever felt called to anything.

“We're called to be ambassadors,” Pace continued. “The salt and light to a lost world. Who was I going to witness to out there by myself? Washing my jeans in the river and cooking my beans over the stove? I saw almost no one in the winter and in the summer, just a handful.”

“But you loved it.”

Pace met her gaze with eyes of certainty. “I love God more. And I felt like I needed to be obedient.”

“Are you having a hard time?”

He smiled. “Can't you tell I'm struggling? It's hard getting used to the bit in my mouth.”

She smiled up at him. “Always the horseman. You're a good guy, Pace Gentry.”

They studied each other for a long moment. Sheri felt they'd taken a major step toward understanding.

“I need to head home,” Pace said suddenly. “I have an early day tomorrow, and the rodeo's coming up on Saturday and, well, I've got things to do. I'd better go.” He practically bolted off the tailgate, heading toward her back door before she could blink.

Scooting off the tailgate she trailed after him. On the porch he placed a hand on the cedar post and looked down at her, suddenly seeming almost awkward. It was cute, she thought, looking up into his eyes.

“Thanks for a nice evening,” he said softly.

Sheri stepped toward him. “You're welcome. I might have to kidnap you again sometime.”

He nodded and his gaze drifted to her lips for a second. Sheri lost her breath realizing that he was going to kiss her…and knowing that she'd never wanted anyone to kiss her more. As he leaned toward her she rose on her toes, her heart pounding in her ears as she closed her eyes and waited.

“Sleep well, Sheri.” His whisper brushed across her ear and instead of his lips brushing hers, Sheri felt him step away.

Instantly, her eyelids flew open. Pace was moving quickly away, already halfway to his truck.

Before she could find her voice, she was watching his taillights disappear down her driveway.

It was about the worst ending to the best date she'd ever had.

P
ace liked Jake. He was a twenty-year-old with a passion for learning his trade. Jake was in love with Cassie, a cute girl who lived out at the shelter, No Place Like Home. Pace had been surprised to learn that Sheriff Brady and his wife Dottie had turned their home into a shelter. Pace could still remember how big that house had been. As a kid raised in bunkhouses or rover's shacks, Pace still remembered the first time he walked into Brady's home. It smelled of cookies because Brady had a mom who was always cooking and fussing over him and Clint when they were there. For two guys with no moms they'd really appreciated it. Not that they ever talked much about it. There were some things you hide deep down inside because they have the potential to hurt the most if you admit they matter.

He was glad that house had kids in it now. He was especially glad for this girl Cassie. When Pace met her, he could tell she wanted a family more than anything in
the world. He could tell by the way Jake worked so hard that he wanted eventually to give Cassie everything she deserved in life.

Standing in the round pen, Pace watched Jake leading the mustang they'd pulled to start working with this morning. The kid was a natural as Pace had been. For Pace, breaking the horses the old way had been a thrill at first. But it hadn't taken him long to know that too many wrecks with a horse weren't conducive to a healthy old age. His dad had been living proof of that. By the age of forty-five he was an old man because of so many spills off the back of a bucking horse. Even the best took spills, and every time you hit the ground you were at risk of breaking yet another bone, crushing vertebrae, messing up your spleen, or dying in a host of different ways.

Add that to the fact that a green broke horse was just plain unreliable and Pace had decided to come up with a new way. He'd been twenty-one when he'd broken his first horse without any bucking involved. Not that there hadn't been times since then that a horse got stubborn and he'd enjoyed a good ride, but for the most part, if he took his time, he and the horse usually came to a mutual understanding.

“I hear you're ridin' in the rodeo?” Jake said, leading the horse past him.

“I can't let you younger guys have all the fun.”

Jake grinned. “We were hoping you were. I mean, you know, it's one thing to break a horse for riding, but there's nothing like ridin' one out of the chute.”

“I agree with that.”

“Plus, you know it's fun showing off for my girl, too.”

Pace laughed, watching him swagger as he led the horse in a circle in the pen. “Yeah, but what if you land on your backside in the dirt?”

“That ain't gonna happen.” Jake lifted his hat in salute. “Haven't you heard? I'm the best there ever was.”

Pace chuckled. “Yeah, in your dreams, maybe.” He remembered being Jake's age and thinking he had the world by the tail. It was a funny thing how quickly life passed by.

“Do you know the Lord, Jake?” Pace was surprised by the question. As of yet he'd never ventured out of his comfort zone and asked about someone's faith. It was new, but he and Jake had been building a relationship over the last couple of weeks and it was merely a progression of that friendship for him to wonder about the younger man's future.

“Yes, sir, I do. I didn't used to, though. I mean, I didn't give my life to the Lord until I moved here. I just thought it was all about me.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Thing is—” Jake stopped in front of him “—me and Cassie, we're a lot alike. We didn't have much of a Christian upbringing so we're looking forward to raising our kids here in Mule Hollow. We figure what we don't know everyone here can fill us in on.”

Pace nodded. “This is a nice place for a family. You've got a solid plan.”

Pace pushed away from the fence to give the kid space to bond with the horse.

Pace had a mustang waiting for him in the other
round pen. He headed out, listening to Jake talking to the mare as he went. Jake painted a pretty picture, but Pace hadn't ever given much thought to kids. He'd been a cowboy living a life that wasn't real complementary to families. In a way, it was a selfish way of life. Not all cowboys had it as hard as the buckaroo who lived like a nomad, of course. But for a guy like him the love of the lifestyle made the solitude and low wages insignificant. Most people wouldn't understand it, and a buckaroo wasn't asking them to. Most people couldn't understand it even if it was explained to them.

He'd told Sheri two nights ago, he'd changed his life for the Lord, but honestly, he still had a part of him that was holding out. He knew that with his horse skills he could build a future here in Mule Hollow that would accommodate a family. But…he had his moments, moments late at night when he was drawn outside by the call of the coyote and the whisper of the wind. On those nights he had to ask the Lord to forgive him because in his heart of hearts he knew the lonesome plains of the Great Basin were calling to him.

Truth was, if he had a family it would be hard to ever go back. He hated admitting his weakness, but despite how much he loved the Lord he knew he'd left himself a backdoor exit.

His thoughts drifted to Sheri as they'd done often over the last two days since their date, and he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't want a family. He'd had a great time with her, so much so that he kept thinking about turning the tables and kidnapping her for a date. It was a surprising twist after the way they'd started out.
Being with her had taken the edge off the restlessness he'd been feeling. Besides that, he'd given her a bad rap. He'd assumed things about her that he'd seen on the date weren't true.

That was precisely why he kept thinking about her. He couldn't help being curious about her. Pace was good at what he did because he could read a horse. Look into its eyes and watch the way it reacted to things and know what it was thinking. What it needed.

Though he'd never pretended that he could do that with people, truth was he'd never really been interested enough in people to try understanding them. But something about Sheri kept pulling him, drawing him to her. He couldn't explain it, but for the first time he was interested enough to want to know everything there was to know about a person.

He looked at his watch as he entered the round pen and noted that it was about time for her to get home from work and come jogging down the road.

He'd gotten used to seeing her jog past his place. He decided she'd shown him her version of a great date; maybe he'd return the favor.

 

Sheri stretched then headed down the road for her run. She needed it after the last couple of restless nights and the posse ambushes she'd endured for the last two days. Despite their supposed trepidation about matching Pace up with her, once she'd gone on an actual date with him they couldn't get to her fast enough to see how it went. Why, Esther Mae practically had them married with a houseful of kids.

Sheri's plan was in full swing and she should have been excited about it, but after their date things were not as clear to her as before.

She was jogging around the curve in the road and was surprised to find Pace on his horse, waiting at the gate. Her pulse kicked up as though she'd just jogged a marathon. The instant his gaze met hers, she knew he'd been waiting on her. He smiled and her insides turned to mush.

She stopped a few steps away from him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He leaned down and held out his hand. “Grab hold.”

She grinned and looked skeptical. “Why?”

“I figure fair is fair. You kidnapped me. Now it's my turn.”

She eyed the big horse. “I don't know how to ride.”

“All you have to do is sit behind me and hold on. C'mon, give me your hand.”

Sheri figured if he could save her from falling off a roof he could save her from falling five feet off a horse. She reached up and he grasped her hand and took his foot out of the stirrup.

“Put your foot in there and push up.” He smiled when she frowned at him. “Just do it, and do not tell me you can't.”

She huffed, lifted her foot and stuck it in the opening as she'd seen him do. Then she pushed as he gave a tug, and the next thing she knew she was sitting behind him on the back of the horse. “That was so easy!” she exclaimed.

He chuckled, and she wondered if he was picturing her frozen to the roof. If he was, he was gentleman
enough not to say it, but the grin that played at the corners of his mouth gave it away. Sheri flushed at the memory.

“Now hold on.”

Sheri had no problem taking orders on that issue. She wrapped her arms around him and decided that this might be the best beginning to a second date that she'd ever had. She just hoped the ending of this one was better than the last.

They rode in silence for a while, traveling the road Sheri knew by heart because she'd jogged down it so often. When they came to a gate, Pace leaned down from the saddle, and unhooked the rope and let the gate swing wide.

“How you doing back there?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

She nodded against him. “Couldn't be better, cowboy.”

His smile took her breath away. They rode through the pasture, up a hill and down along a stream. Sometimes they talked, but most of the time they didn't. When he led the horse across the stream bed she felt as if she'd gone back in time. “I suddenly feel like I share something with those who passed this way back in the days of the Old West.” She knew instinctively that he felt the same way.

He guided the horse along the trail that snaked along the stream. “I like to ride back here. It's pretty untouched.”

That was all he said, but Sheri knew he meant it took him back to the Great Basin. She suddenly realized that he wasn't just taking her on a horseback ride; he was sharing something that was important to him. The gesture touched her.

When they topped a ridge the land swept away to a valley and Pace led the horse toward an old windmill that looked about as ancient as the shack he lived in. It occurred to her, since she'd watched her share of Westerns, that if she'd had on a prairie dress this would be a classic scene. She chuckled at the thought.

“What's so funny?” he asked, drawing the horse to a halt so they could look out across the vastness of the ranch.

“I keep seeing us in old movies. I feel like someone is going to shout, ‘Cut' at any moment.”

“I know what you mean. When I used to be out there on the range, it sometimes felt like I was living a different life. Sometimes I think God put me in the wrong era.”

Sheri loosened her grip on his waist, realizing suddenly that she was still holding on to him as if the horse were climbing a steep hill and she was afraid of falling off. “The first time I saw you I thought you looked like you walked straight off the set of a classic Western. You know, where the cowboy would just as soon shoot you as look at you.”

He scowled at her from over his shoulder. “That bad?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah.”

He shook his head. “Not that it's an excuse, but the last thing I was expecting while I was minding my own business was to get called on the carpet by a woman.”

“Watch it, bucko.”

He chuckled then nodded toward the windmill. “Would you like to get down and watch the sunset from up here on the bluff?”

Sheri smiled broadly at him. “That would be nice.”
She wasn't daft by a long shot and knew a good offer when she heard it.

The sun was just starting to dip as they dismounted, first her, with Pace steadying her with his hand on her forearm, and then him. In the quiet of the evening they sat on a wide plank at the base of the windmill. Surprisingly, it was weathered but sturdy. Sheri watched the ribbons of blinding oranges and yellows stretching across the sky as the sun sank deep into the horizon. It was a magnificent sight, and Sheri was just as enthralled with the feeling of Pace's arm brushing hers as with the beauty in front of her.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

She nodded when he turned serious eyes toward her.

“Why are you so dead set against getting married?”

Not what she'd expected. She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you asking?”

He chuckled. “You know what I'm asking.”

This wasn't really what she wanted to talk about right now. It was too beautiful a moment to waste talking about her past. He dipped his head and cut his eyes to her. She gave in.

“You've seen my yard, haven't you?”

“Yup. Never seen so many do-dillys and sparkly things in all my life.”

“Then there you go.”

His thick, dark brows knit together. “I don't follow.”

“It's simple. I'm project-oriented, I love projects. Did you see all my different rabbits? I've got about six of them out there. I painted them all, while I was on a rabbit kick. Then I got on a fat frog kick. Right now I'm
on the tree-decorating kick. I saw that in a magazine, thought it looked cool and so I started stringing ornaments up there.”

“Whoa, mind telling me what all this has to do with why you won't get married?”

“I do the same thing with boyfriends. Don't look at me like that. Going to the movies does not make me a floozy.”

Seeing his confusion she told him about her parents' habit of getting divorced. She wasn't sure why she started telling him everything, but she did. She spilled her whole sordid childhood out right there. It could have been a very romantic moment until she opened her mouth, but it was as though once she started talking she couldn't stop. Maybe it was because he listened well, or because she felt safe with him. Whatever the reason Sheri found herself opening up to Pace. She told him about the nine divorces and all the shuffling that she'd gone through as a kid. How she'd never known from one day to the next which parent's home she was going to be at. She'd been hauled between homes and seen more boyfriends and girlfriends come and go than she had sparkles hanging from her trees. Since her parents lived in the same vicinity, whoever had time for her at the moment was where she ended up.