Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (11 page)

When Sam had first been offered the job, New York had been a bright, gleaming enticement. But now, only two weeks into her summer vacation, it had lost some of its glitter and shine. How would it look in two more weeks? Sam didn’t want to go there or even think about going there. Perhaps spending so much time at the McCoy ranch wasn’t such a good idea anymore. Maybe it was a good thing Cassie and Adi were coming home today.

A very good thing,
she tried to convince herself.

Sam glanced at her watch and took a few steps away from Colton, hooking her thumb over her shoulder. “I should go help your mom with lunch.”

The horse whinnied again, and Colton rolled his eyes. “And I should get back on that horse.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

In the kitchen, Sam cut up fruit and listened as Mrs. McCoy talked about the McCoy family’s summer traditions, including the Fourth of July festivities, the Colorado Springs demolition derby, and the family rodeo.

“What does your family do for the Fourth?” Mrs. McCoy asked.

Sam thought back to past summers. “Kevin always grills something amazing, Emma makes the best homemade ice cream and Texas sheet cake you’ve ever tasted, my mom whips up her should-be-world-famous-but-isn’t-yet potato salad, Dad goes shopping for fireworks in Wyoming, and Noah builds some sort of structure to make the semi-illegal fireworks safe.”

“And Cassie?”

“I’m not sure. I spent last summer in North Carolina completing an internship so I wasn’t around for that one. Did she and Noah come here?”

“Only for a few hours in the afternoon. But I was thinking that we could do something together this year. Do you think Kevin, Emma, and your parents would be interested in joining us? Though I’m not sure about the semi-illegal fireworks,” she added hesitantly. “We live too close to the mountains. But maybe we could do sparklers or something?”

Sam hesitated. Mrs. McCoy had just offered her something she’d been wanting—a reason to come back. But now that it was on the table, did she really want to pick it up? Besides fulfilling one thing on her bucket list, all Sam had really accomplished over the past two weeks was add to the list of people she’d miss when she moved.

“I’ll check with everyone and let you know,” she finally said.

“Sounds great.”

Mr. McCoy came in first, followed by Spencer and Dustin. Lunch was typically served buffet-style on the ranch so that people could come and go whenever they got hungry. Colton and Kajsa showed up last, just as Mr. McCoy and the boys were finishing up.

“How did the riding go?” Sam asked Colton, noting his clothes were dusted with more dirt than before.

“Let’s just say that horse belongs in a circus. Not even Kajsa can think of a solution for this one.” Colton ruffled her hair, making Kajsa dodge away from his touch. Crazy girl.

While she waited for Kajsa to eat, Sam rinsed what dishes were left in the sink and wiped down counters. As soon as the last bite of sandwich disappeared in Kajsa’s mouth, Sam said, “We’d better get going, Kaj.”

“Can’t we stay a little longer?” she begged.

“I wish we could. But we’ve got balloons to fill, a banner to paint, and desserts to make.” Sam glanced at Mrs. McCoy and explained, “Cassie and Adi are coming home tonight.”

“Well, that’s happy news.” She paused. “Does that mean we won’t be seeing you around here as much anymore, Sam?”

“Um…” Sam glanced at Colton, who was watching her with interest, as though he might actually care about the answer. “I’m not exactly sure. I mean, I hope I’ll be back, but I probably won’t be the one driving Kajsa any longer.”

Would Colton even care if she didn’t drop by anymore? Would he miss her the way she’d miss him? After all of his flirting, he had to care, at least a little. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“We’ll miss seeing you as often.” Mrs. McCoy filled the awkward silence. “Don’t forget to ask your family about the Fourth.”

“I won’t.” The room had suddenly gone from comfortable to stifling, and Sam needed some fresh air. “Thanks again for everything. Kajsa, I’ll be waiting outside.”

Still no comment from Colton.

On her way out, Sam snagged a carrot off the counter for Nutmeg. She started past the corral where Your Majesty danced, looking restless and confined. Colton hadn’t released her to the pasture, so he probably planned to work with her more after lunch.

Sam glanced down at the carrot she held and hesitated. Then she strode toward the corral and stopped on the other side of the fence from Your Majesty. “Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll give you this carrot if you’ll stop throwing Colton.“

The horse settled down and scuffed the dirt with one of its hooves. Feeling a bit foolish, Sam held out the carrot. “Well? Do we have a deal?”

Without even sniffing the carrot, Maj turned and pranced away—the kind of prance that belonged in a Disney movie where horses fought humans with frying pans.

“You really need to get over yourself,” Sam muttered.

A laugh sounded behind her, and Sam turned to find Dustin wearing his too-big grin. He rested his elbows on the fence beside her and shook his head. “You know what they say about horses.”

“What?”

He took the carrot from her hand and whistled. Moments later, the crazy horse came strutting back and ate that carrot right out of his hand.

Unbelievable.

Dustin’s grin widened, and he cocked his head at her. “Horses have a sixth sense about people. If they don’t like ya, there’s usually a reason.”

With a wink and a chuckle, he walked away.

Sam frowned at him then frowned at the horse. She knew Dustin had only been teasing, but for a brief moment, she had a crazy thought.

Is there a reason the horse doesn’t like me? Is something wrong with me?

Feeling tried and tested—and lacking—Sam slogged toward her happy, yellow Bug, needing its love more than ever.

“I bet you blink before I do.” Sam stared at the clock on her nightstand, challenging it to a staring contest. She rolled onto her stomach and lifted her head from the pillow, forcing her non-sleepy eyes to stay open. The glowing red numbers stared back, taking up the challenge. Several seconds ticked by before the numbers blinked, changing from twelve-forty-seven to twelve-forty-eight.

Triumphant, Sam pointed at the clock. “Told you.”

She flopped to her back and focused on the ceiling, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. After the ranch in the morning and the welcome home party that evening, it had been a long, busy day. Why wasn’t she tired? Why couldn’t she fall into the deep and dreamy sleep that usually overtook her by now? Why didn’t her pillow-top mattress feel soft and cozy like it usually did?

Sam shifted positions, trying to find a sweet spot. Any sweet spot. When it didn’t come, she glared at the clock that now glowed twelve-forty-nine. This was going to be a long night.

Throwing her covers back, Sam padded from her room and down the stairs, trying to avoid the squeaks. She missed the last one, and a loud creak filled the darkness, sounding more than a little creepy.

“Can’t sleep either?” The deep voice made Sam jump, and she placed her hand over her heart, squinting at the dark shadow sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace.

“Thanks a lot, Dad,” she whispered. “The last thing I need right now is a surge of adrenalin. What are you doing down here?”

“Eating leftover cookies.” His hand lifted, holding what looked like a plate. “Want one?”

Sam stole a cookie before plopping down on the sofa across from him and curling her legs beside her. She bit into it, savoring the sweet taste of one of her mother’s homemade chocolate chip cookies.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a diet?” she asked her father.

“Supposed to be.”

Several months ago, he’d gone in for his yearly physical. When the blood results came back, reflecting a too-high cholesterol number, Sam’s mother had immediately instigated a new, healthier eating regimen. But on a night like tonight, when her mother had baked a bunch of cookies for Cassie and Adi’s welcome home party, they were left with the inevitable leftovers that her mother couldn’t pawn off on anyone else.

“I thought she was going to hide these,” Sam mused, taking another bite.

“Your mother can’t hide anything from me,” said the dark shadow. “I know all her secrets.”

“She’s going to notice when they’re all gone. Or are you planning to replace them with a forged duplicate?”

“I was planning on pointing the finger at you—our beautiful, slender daughter with healthy cholesterol and blood pressure.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere. Want some milk?”

“Love some.”

Sam stumbled her way to the kitchen and stubbed her toe on a barstool before filling two glasses of milk. She made it back unscathed and handed one to her father. He took a few guzzles and sighed. “Ah, that hit the spot. Thanks, sweetie.”

“Anything for you. Just promise you’ll hide the evidence.”

“I’ll be sure to remove all my prints and DNA from the glass before I put it in the dishwasher.”

“And I’ll leave mine on the counter for Mom to find. She’ll never know the truth.”

“You are a good daughter.”

Sam smiled—at least until her thoughts veered in the direction of the ranch and she remembered a certain horse that might disagree. It would be one thing if Your Majesty believed in equality and treated everyone badly, but the horse had made her preferences obvious. Kajsa was top of her list, with Colton taking a close second, and the rest of the family not far behind. Sam, on the other hand, was the blacked-out name on the very bottom. And it bugged.

“
Am
I good, Dad? I mean, really?” She felt a vulnerability she hadn’t felt since—well, ever.

“Why would you ask that? Of course you are.”

“Because there’s a wild mustang at the McCoy ranch that likes everyone but me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I’m not exaggerating. I promise.”

Her father took another swig of his milk then set it on the table next to him. “If the horse doesn’t like you, it’s because she doesn’t know you. You, my daughter, are a very likable person.”

Sam bit down on her lower lip as she mulled over his words. “I am a likeable person,” she said finally.

“You are.”

“And if I really wanted to, which I’m not sure I do, I could win over that horse.”

“Easy as me finding your mother’s hiding places.”

Sam wasn’t so sure about that, but it was sounding more and more like a challenge, and Sam never backed down from a challenge.

It gives you a reason to go back tomorrow,
came a tempting thought.

But you don’t want to go back, remember?
inserted the voice of reason.

But I do want to go back,
thought Sam
. I just don’t want to want to go back.

The lights suddenly flicked on, making Sam gasp and spill a little of her milk on her chest. She twisted around and squinted through the too-bright lights at her mother, who stood at the foot of the stairs, taking in the scene with narrowed eyes.

Busted
. Sam slowly turned back to her father, who was pointing a finger at her while his remaining fingers clutched a half-eaten cookie. Next to his elbow sat an empty glass of milk.

Sam rolled her eyes. “You’ve been caught red-handed, Dad. Maybe if you fess up she’ll go easier on you.”

“Have you met your mother?” he replied. “It’s going to be cabbage, spinach, and broccoli for the next week. I hate broccoli.”

“Don’t forget Brussels sprouts,” said her mother, directing the words at Sam.

Sam frowned. How was that fair? She despised Brussels sprouts. As in, would rather eat seaweed than Brussels sprouts. They tasted like nasty, slimy worms. She twisted around. “Why am I being punished when I’m not on a special diet?”

“It’s called guilt by association.”

That settled it. Come Monday, Sam would go back to the McCoy ranch, win over that horse, and hope sweet Mrs. McCoy would invite her to stay for dinner.

Colton hefted the last box from his truck and carried it inside The Shack, dropping it down on the couch. He had to hand it to Samantha. When she offered to help, she really helped. The place practically gleamed it was so clean. The windows had all been washed and scrubbed, the cobwebs eradicated, the warped table sanded and re-lacquered, and a new-to-him taupe shag rug beckoned from under the couch and armchair.