“Yeah, figured that out on my own, thanks.”
He grinned and slid out of the car in the same fluid way he’d gotten in and shut the door behind him. Sam twisted her key and started the engine, then watched him saunter back toward the wild mustang. Who was Colton McCoy exactly? Did she like him? Did she not like him? Did she want to take riding lessons from him, or did she want to offer to babysit the twins so Emma could be Kajsa’s chauffeur for the next two weeks?
Sam honestly couldn’t say.
Colton grinned at his garlic-laced mashed potatoes before shoving them into his mouth. Every time he thought of his encounter with Kajsa’s treasured Samantha, he couldn’t swipe the smile from his face. She’d turned out to be as gorgeous as she was interesting. Ride a bull? Have a fling? Jump out of a plane at fifteen thousand feet? Purple hair?
Had she written that list as a joke, or was she seriously planning to do those things? Thinking of that silky, curly blonde hair dyed purple made him snicker, and mashed potatoes shot into his air canal, making him cough and splutter and cough some more. He quickly chugged some water.
“What on earth is wrong with you?” asked his mother.
“Nothing.” Colton returned his attention to his plate, trying to force his thoughts away from the image of spunk driving away in a yellow Bug called Sunshine II. Was there a Sunshine I?
“He’s been acting that way ever since he met Kajsa’s babysitter,” taunted Dustin with one of his too-wide grins.
Colton suddenly felt the urge to press his brother’s face into his potatoes.
“Her name’s Samantha, and I’m giving her a few riding lessons. That’s it,” said Colton. They’d find out sooner or later, and he’d rather it be here, over dinner, than tomorrow morning when Samantha showed up to hear their reactions.
“You’re doing what?” His father gaped at him from across the table.
“Teaching a couple of lessons. Not a big deal.”
“Just like bringing home a wild mustang isn’t a big deal?”
“I never said that wasn’t a big deal. I only said I’d find a way to make it work.”
“Just like you’re going to make these extra lessons work?”
“That’s right.”
His father shook his head and frowned at his meal, looking ready to trade in his oldest son for someone with a lot more sense.
Colton’s mother placed her hand over her husband’s. “Oh, come now, Mike. I remember a time when you used to drive twenty minutes out of your way just to pick me up for school every day.”
“That was different,” he muttered.
“How so?”
“We were friends. He only met the girl this morning.”
His wife smiled gently at him. “With as much as Kajsa and Adi talk about Sam, we’ve known her longer than that. Sometimes one meeting is all it takes.”
This conversation was getting out of hand. Colton tossed his napkin onto his plate. “Takes for what? Good gravy, people. I’m not planning on marrying Samantha or even dating her. She expressed an interest in riding, and I offered to help. It’s no different than what I did for Kajsa.”
“You keep tellin’ yourself that if it makes you feel better,” said Dustin. “But you weren’t coughing up mashed potatoes after you met Kajsa.”
For whatever reason, the comment struck Spencer’s funny bone, and he started cackling, spewing mashed potatoes of his own.
It was enough to make Colton’s normally cool composure crack. More and more, he was ready to find his own place and put some distance between him and his family. He hadn’t done it yet because the ranch meant everything to him, and despite his annoyance with his family, he loved them. Someday, this place would belong to him and his brothers, and Colton needed to learn all he could from his father before that day came.
But that was something he could still do while living under another roof.
“I’ve been thinking of moving into the shack,” blurted Colton. He’d meant it as a joke, but as the idea settled in his mind, it turned into something that resembled an epiphany. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?
Silence reigned in the room, all eyes trained on Colton. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for finding a way to shut his brothers up.
“Why would you want to do that?” his mother finally asked, her fork paused in the air halfway to her mouth.
“I’m twenty-six, Mom. It’s long past time I lived on my own.”
She set her fork down. And rested her chin on clasped knuckled. “But it’s in horrible condition. I wouldn’t let one of our cats live there.”
Colton refrained from saying that the cats already spent a lot of time there—hunting mice. “I’m not talking about tomorrow. I’ll fix it up first.”
His father snickered and shook his head. “Son, you know there are only twenty-four hours in a day, right? Are you planning on getting any sleep this summer?”
At least his parents seemed to be considering it. “I can manage.”
He gave a little scoff, as though giving up on reasoning with his son, and returned to his green beans.
“Can I have Colton’s room when he’s gone?” said Spencer, looking excited until his mother’s glare had him dropping his gaze back to his plate.
A few awkward moments passed before his mother cleared her throat. “I suppose I can help you with the shack. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
She nodded and looked down at her plate. Colton knew exactly what she was thinking. He could see it in her eyes and the telling expression on her face. She didn’t like change, didn’t like the thought of her oldest son moving out when there seemed to be no reason for him to do so.
But there was a good reason. Colton craved independence, change, and growth. He’d been ready to take that next step for a while now, but wanted to build a home of his own some day and couldn’t justify the expense of renting an apartment when that extra money could go in a bank. And, like his mother said, the small cabin had always been a run-down, forgotten structure not fit for human habitation. But it had been years since anyone had been inside. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Maybe all it would need was a little TLC.
After rinsing his dishes and helping his mother clean up, Colton grabbed a flashlight and a notebook and headed up the lane, ready to make a list of his own. Only instead of riding bulls or jumping out of airplanes, his would include lots of to-dos.
Sam tugged the purplish curls into a ponytail and stared at the oval mirror hanging above her little white dressing table. After she’d left the McCoy’s yesterday, she’d driven straight to Cal Ranch and purchased a hat, along with a sturdy-looking pair of cowboy boots. Then it was off to the grocery store for hair dye and her favorite treat—Andes mints. Colton had given her usual confidence a bit of a shake, and the dye was her way of firming it up again. She’d show him that his opinion didn’t matter to her. The mints were merely food for thought.
Her parents had a dinner engagement, so Sam had invited Kajsa for a sleepover. They spent the evening listening to country music, learning a line dance from YouTube (so Sam could cross country dancing off her list), eating an entire half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream (sprinkled with Andes mints), dying Sam’s hair, and laughing hysterically at the results.
Take that, Colton McCoy, Sam had thought before crashing into bed and allowing a mint-induced coma to take over.
But now it was morning, and the daylight changed everything. The sun shone through the open window, highlighting Kajsa’s shiny, beautiful brown hair as she brushed it into a cute ponytail. Sam’s hair, on the other hand, looked more putrid than purple. Was this how people felt after spending the evening drinking and doing things they would never have done with an intact mind? Her stomach twisted and gurgled with the aftermath of the no-longer-yummy mints and ice cream.
She smashed her new tarnished-straw cowboy hat over her hair and frowned, realizing there was a reason her wardrobe didn’t contain any purple item
s. It wasn’t her color. She looked like a zombie trying to pass as a cowgirl.
She forced her lips into a smile. “Ready to go, Kajsa?”
The darling girl giggled when she looked at Sam. “Your hair looks awesome.”
Liar, Sam thought. “Maybe tonight we can dye yours to match.”
The shiny, brown ponytail shook with Kajsa’s head. “No, that’s okay,” which was Kajsa’s kind way of saying that awesome really meant hideous.
Sam grabbed Kasja’s brown hat and set it gently on her head. “Let us away then, my dear. The day isn’t getting any younger.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Sam hunted through her purse, looking for her phone and her keys. Maybe she should take Kajsa out for breakfast. That way they could get out of the house before her mother woke up and discovered—
“What on earth have you done to your hair?”
So much for that plan. Sam blew a purple curl from her face and turned around to face her mom, wondering if the sun catcher her roommate had given her was actually bad luck.
“She dyed it,” said Kajsa.
“I can see that.” Her mother walked into the room and lifted the hat from Sam’s head. She didn’t bother trying to hide a grimace. “May I ask why?”
Sam played it cool. “I had no choice. It was on my bucket list.”
“She has to have a fling with summer and ride a bull too,” inserted Kajsa.
“What?”
Oh brother, Sam thought. She stole the hat back from her mom and pressed it down over her hair, brushing all loose strands behind her ears. “It’s not like I’m planning to follow through with everything on the list.”
“Just like you didn’t follow through with dying your hair purple?” said her mom.
“I was high on Andes mints at the time. You know I can’t be responsible for my actions when that happens.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “Sometimes you are too impulsive for your own good.”
“I’m definitely feeling it this morning, yes.”
“Thank goodness you have more sense, Kajsa.” Her mom smoothed Kajsa’s ponytail with an expression that said, I wish my daughter’s hair looked as good as yours. With a sigh, she put her arms around both girls. “C’mon. I have some hot-off-the-grill waffles for you downstairs. They should taste good, even though they’re the same old boring neutral color they usually are. Maybe I should have added some purple food coloring.”
“Don’t even start, Mom.”
“Oh, I haven’t begun to start. Just wait until your father sees you.”
Sam didn’t have to wait long. Her father was already in the kitchen, digging into a stack of waffles covered in berries. With resignation, Sam lifted the hat from her head and pointed to her hair. “You have five seconds. Go.”
He blinked at her.
“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 real
ly 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.
Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) Page 4
