Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (6 page)

“Five, four, three-two-one. Time’s up.”

He nodded and returned to his waffles.

With her hands on her hips, her mother shook her head. “Justin, I’m disappointed. You had the perfect opportunity to give our daughter some sage advice, and you blew it.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s learned her lesson,” came his reply.

Sam couldn’t agree more. Learned her lesson and would continue to learn it. What would Colton say when he saw it? Sam didn’t want to even think about it. She piled two plates high with waffles, drizzled a heavy helping of syrup over the top of each, and handed one to Kajsa. Then she took a seat next to her father. “I’m thinking next time I should color it green. What do you think?”

“Sort of like how your hair looked that summer after you made the swim team?” he asked.

He made a good point. “You’re right. Blonde it is.”

“My favorite look on you.”

Kajsa only ate half her waffle before dragging Sam out the door, saying she couldn’t wait to see the mustang any longer. The two girls sped off in a flurry of purple, brown, and yellow, arriving at the McCoy ranch a little earlier than planned.

They found Colton in the small corral next to the barn, holding the mustang’s lead rope and letting the animal run circles around him. Colton stood in the middle, spinning slower circles in a patient, lackadaisical way, almost as though the movements of the horse had hypnotized him. He wore a blue and gray flannel shirt.

Kajsa scrambled up the fence and rested her elbows on the top rail, watching the horse with rapt attention. Sam stayed back a few feet, more leery of the wild animal after it had charged her yesterday.

“What’s her name?” Kajsa asked.

Colton glanced at Kajsa before his gaze settled on Sam. "Nice hat.”

“Thanks." She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and looked at him straight-on, trying to keep the purple hidden for as long as possible. “Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Mom had to run a few errands, and Dad took my brothers to Denver to get a load of feed.”

“All the way to Denver?” asked Sam.

“We get it cheaper from a supplier up there, so we always stock up. That way we only need to make the trip every few months.”

“So?” prodded Kajsa, more interested in the horse than the feed. “Does she have a name yet?”

Colton continued to turn with the animal, his movements slow and methodical, but his attention remained on the girls. “I don’t know yet. I was actually thinking of letting you figure it out, Kaj.”

“Really?”

“It has to be a good name—one fitting of a beautiful animal with a wild heart and an intelligent mind.”

Kajsa bit her bottom lip and cast a worried glance Sam’s way, as though the responsibility of the job was more than she wanted to take on.

“You’ll figure out the perfect name,” Sam encouraged, taking a few steps closer. “Just make sure you don’t take too long deciding. Everyone needs a name.”

“What would you name her?” Kajsa asked.

Sam leaned her shoulder against the fence, facing Kajsa, and gave it some thought. What did people name horses, anyway? Black Beauty, Mr. Ed, Maximus, Whisper, and Maverick were the only ones she could think of. Apparently, they could be named pretty much anything.

“Pineapple?” offered Sam as a suggestion.

Kajsa doubled over in laughter. “She would buck you off if you ever called her that. Pineapple doesn’t fit her at all.”

Apparently you couldn’t name a horse anything. The name had to fit. But fit what? Personality? Appearance? Nature? “I’m pretty sure she’d buck me off no matter what I called her,” said Sam.

“She’s a leader, so it has to be a leader name. Like…” Kajsa’s voice trailed off, and a thoughtful frown replaced her smile.

“Commander in Chief?” Sam joked. “George Washington? What about just Washington?” She actually liked that one, but Kajsa was shaking her head.

A loud whinny, followed by snorting, came from the corral. “What’s wrong with you now?” said Colton as the horse pranced in place as though anxious about something.

Ever so slowly, Sam stepped away from the fence and tensed, ready to grab Kajsa if the horse came charging again. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

Colton gave the horse a considering look. “Why would you say that?”

“She was doing fine until I showed up. And yesterday she charged me. Just look at her. I swear she’s glaring at me.”

Kajsa giggled. “It sort of looks like she is.”

Colton shook his head in a give-me-a-break sort of way. “She’s a wild horse that doesn’t like being confined in a corral. It has nothing to do with you.”

“She’s not charging you.”

“Only because I spent all of yesterday afternoon with her.” Colton tugged lightly on the lead rope, trying to encourage the horse to move forward again, but it wasn’t until Kajsa said, “You can do it, girl,” that she finally did.

Colton could say all he wanted about wild horses, but Sam knew that horse had something against her. But what? Maybe horses really could sense fear and didn’t like cowards.

“Is this part of the training process?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” answered Colton. “Right now she trusts me enough to let me inside the corral, but that’s it. I need her to stop running and come to me on her own—let me touch her.”

“She won’t let you touch her?” Kajsa asked.

“Haven’t really tried. She let me unhook her lead rope after I fed her a carrot, but that’s it. I don’t want to force a connection. When she’s ready, she’ll come.”

Sam continued to watch the horse canter, feeling a little hypnotized herself. How long had Colton been at this? How was he not dying of boredom? Sam had only been here ten minutes and already needed a change of pace.

“Kajsa, don’t you have work to do?” Colton cocked his head at her and smiled.

“Five more minutes, please?”

“Tell you what. Get all your chores done first thing every day, and I’ll let you help me train the mustang.”

Eyes wide and excited, Kajsa leapt from the fence and raced toward the barn, not giving Colton a chance to rescind his offer.

“I will be checking to make sure you do a good job,” Colton called after her.

“I will,” was the last they heard before she disappeared inside.

Colton pointed a gloved finger at Sam. “Now
that
is the proper way to motivate someone.”

“Bribery?”

“Incentives.”

“In that case, what will be my ‘incentive’ for learning how to ride?” she said.

“When you can take off on a horse without fear, feeling the wind on your face and the power beneath you, you’ll have your reward.”

Colton slowed his movements, tugging lightly on the rope to encourage the mustang to stop. He spoke in a low voice as he cautiously approached the animal. “I’m going to remove this rope from your halter, if that’s okay.” Her head bobbed up and down, but she allowed him to unclip the rope before trotting to the other side of the corral, near a gate that led to the pasture containing the other horses. She nudged the gate with her long nose and Colton laughed.

“Not yet. You have to show me you can trust me first.” He swung over the fence and was at Sam’s side a moment later, removing his work gloves.

“You ready for—” He stopped and took a closer look at Sam then lifted the end of her ponytail and fingered the curls, sending a rippling sensation down her back. Sam steeled herself for what was to come. But instead of the expected snarky remark, he dropped her hair and looked into her eyes. “I can see you’re serious about that bucket list.”

“I am,” she said, though she planned to replace
Ride a bull
with
Win a stuffed giraffe at the county fair.

“In that case, let’s get you on a horse.”

He started for the barn, and Sam had to speed-walk to keep up. “Really? That’s it? No jokes about me looking like I’m trying to pass for NYU’s mascot?”

“I’m pretty sure NYU already has a mascot.”

They entered the barn, and strong odors of leather, hay, and manure permeated everything. Kajsa was scooping up hay with a pitchfork and transferring it to the last stall on the left, while a medium-sized chestnut horse occupied the first stall on the right.

Colton grabbed a bridle hanging from a peg on the wall. “What do you think, Kaj? Will Samantha do all right with Nutmeg?”

Kajsa rested her cheek against the handle of the pitchfork and considered the question. “Yeah, I think Nutmeg’s a good choice,” she said before returning to her work.

“I agree.” Colton flashed a grin and lowered his voice so only Sam could hear. “I love that girl.”

For a brief moment, Sam wished she was a cowgirl at heart instead of just dressed like one.

“Hey, you got boots too.” Colton nodded at her new footwear.

“If I’m going to learn to ride a horse, I’m going to do it right.”

“Are you going to invest in chaps too, for when you ride that bull?”

“Chaps, gargantuan belt buckle, spurs, you name it,” said Sam. “I never do anything halfway.”

The sound of his chuckle echoed off the walls of the barn, filling the space with richness and depth. It made her wonder what a full-blown laugh would sound like. Probably really good. The kind of laugh that would make people stop, stare, and hope for more.

Sam mentally added another item to her bucket list: Make Colton really laugh.

“Have you ever ridden a bull?” she asked as he fitted the bridle on Nutmeg.

“Once.” He led the horse from the stall and handed the reins to Sam. “Hold her steady while I get her saddled.”

It was a little unnerving standing in front of an animal with a mass at least three times her size, but Sam forced her fingers to tighten around the straps as she tried not to tense or show fear. Nutmeg shuffled his hooves, and Sam shuffled her boots.

“Is Nutmeg a he or a she?” Sam asked.

“
She’s
Maverick’s girlfriend.” Colton yanked on a strap, tightening it around the belly of the beast. “Maverick’s my horse.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about him from Kajsa.” Sam lowered her voice. “She idolizes both of you, and frankly I’m a little jealous. I feel like I’ve been replaced.”

Colton finished tying off the strap before he dropped the stirrup. “Trust me when I say that you are still number one in her eyes. I could never compete with How to Host a Murder parties, tie-dying t-shirts to look like rainbows, or making water rockets.” He gave Nutmeg a quick rub on the neck. “Yesterday, when my mom said we feel like we already know you, it’s because we kind of do. Between Kajsa and the rest of her family, I’ve lost count with how many times your name pops up in conversations. Kajsa may love horses, but she adores you.”

As Colton spoke, a warmth radiated from Sam’s chest through the rest of her body, making her feel like one of those Glo Worms she used to sleep with as a kid. Sam knew she could never compete with Colton or Maverick or horses in general, but maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe it was like one of those delicious, layered desserts. Kajsa’s family was the crust that held everything together, this ranch was the yummy pudding layer, and Sam the fluffy whipped cream on top. And that was okay. Everyone’s life was layered. It was in the combining of the individual layers that turned a tasty life into something decadent.

Sam held out the reins, hoping Colton would take them back, which he did. “You said you rode a bull once. What’s the story there?”

He cracked a smile as he led the horse from the barn. “It was an amateur rodeo, and some of my friends who’d signed up for bull riding pressured me into doing the same. My parents thought I’d lost my marbles, but what teenaged kid listens to his parents, right? I mean, that wouldn’t be cool, and a certain girl I wanted to impress was planning to be there. So I signed up, cinched my hand to the back of a bull named Dominator, and made it two seconds before I was thrown against a fence. I managed to break both arms, and for six weeks, my right arm was in a full cast, from my shoulder to my hand, and my left from my elbow to my hand. It didn’t take long for the coolness factor to wear off and for me to come to my senses. And the nurse who helped fix me up was a man.”

Sam laughed. “But you still train horses, and I’m guessing you get bucked off a lot doing that.”

“I do, and I’ve gotten a few more broken bones in the process. But it’s different when you’re doing something dangerous for a positive outcome instead of for sport. There’s nothing more rewarding than gaining a horse’s trust, figuring him out, and teaching his owner to do the same. In my world, a horse that can’t be trained is ultimately a dead horse, so I do everything in my power to keep that from happening. And when I win, which I usually do, it feels pretty great.”

As Colton led Nutmeg through a gate and into a large pasture, Sam thought about what he’d said and wondered even more about layers and people. What made Colton Colton? He was handsome and grinned more times than he didn’t, but he was also nosy and snarky, with a confidence bordering on cockiness. And yet he’d taken a little girl under his wing, adopted a wild mustang to save it from a sad fate, and offered a few riding lessons so a girl could cross something off her bucket list.

Like most people, Colton was layered. But when all those layers came together, was he more like a rainbow Jello salad that looked better than it tasted, or was he more like a luscious berry trifle with color and flavor and a taste that made Sam’s mouth water just thinking about it?

Yesterday, Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to come back to the McCoy ranch, but now she wanted to stay, learn, and uncover all the layers of all the people in the McCoy family—especially Colton.

“Hold your hand under her nose like this so she can get used to your smell,” Colton said, showing her what he meant.

Sam did as he asked, praying Nutmeg wouldn’t open that large mouth and chomp down on her fingers. But the horse only sniffed and brushed her surprisingly soft nostrils against the back of Sam’s hand.

“Now rub her gently right here and say something nice,” Colton said in Sam’s ear, guiding her hand to Nutmeg’s neck. A flurry of warmth and chills flooded up her arm and into her body, making her want to lean into Colton. Did he really expect her to say something intelligent to a horse when all she could think about was his breath on her neck or his hand touching hers?