Ready or not, though, she was gone, and like it or not, he had to get used to that. Sam wasn’t a staying type of girl, anyway. She had too many ambitions. Too many goals. The ranch and Colton had only been a fun little diversion to help pass the time.
He really hated the way his stomach tightened when he thought of never seeing that yellow Bug come up the lane, stirring up a cloud of dust behind it.
Maybe he should have asked her out. Maybe he should have tried to convince her that flings were overrated and that cowboys were underrated.
Footsteps sounded behind him, squeaking the floorboards on the front porch. Colton turned around to find his mother standing there, holding a tinfoil-covered plate of something.
“You left without eating,” she said, a little out of breath.
“I ate a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast.”
“That’s not a breakfast.” She shoved the plate into his hands. “This is a breakfast.”
Colton could feel that the food was still warm, and it smelled wonderful. “Thanks, Mom. But I’m moving out of the house to become more independent, and that means making my own breakfast.”
“Or pouring it from a cardboard box?” She made a face, and he smiled.
“Or pouring it from a cardboard box.”
She let out a sigh that sounded like I-may-not-like-it-but-its-your-life-to-live then looked around, walking farther into the room. “Wow, you really cleaned this place up.”
“It was mostly Samantha’s doing.”
His mother toed the rug. “Is this new?”
“Samantha brought it over. One of her mom’s client’s was moving and didn’t want it anymore, so Samantha showed up with it a few days ago, rolled up and sticking out the back of her trunk.” Colton smiled at the memory. Maybe the little yellow Bug was good for something after all.
“It looks nice.”
“I think so.”
She cocked her head to the side and eyed her son. “You two seem to get along so great that I thought you might…” her voice drifted off, and she waved her hand. “Well, never mind. I guess I thought wrong.”
“I like her, but I really don’t think she’d be interested in a guy like me long-term.”
“Why would you say that?”
Colton set the plate on the counter and opened and closed a few drawers before he found the cheap silverware he’d picked up at the store last week. He pulled out a fork and palmed the counter. “She’s too spontaneous and adventurous for ranching life. Coming here… well, it was something new and exciting to experience. But now that she’s experienced it, she’ll move on to something else that’s new and exciting. Trust me.”
His mother walked forward, placing her hands on the side of his face. “I’m only going to say this once, because, like you moving to The Shack, I know you need to live your own life your own way. But I can’t let a comment like that slide with no response. You are handsome, talented, hardworking, and—most importantly—a good man. A girl would have to be blind not to see that. But if you find a girl you’re interested in and don’t make your interest clear, she might walk out of your life for the same reasons you’re letting her walk out.”
His mother gave his cheek a pat, and her expression softened. “I like Sam. A lot. And I’m pretty sure that she likes you. No girl would help you do all this”—she gestured around her—“if she didn’t. But if you’re not willing to do anything about that then… perhaps it’s a good thing she won’t be coming around much anymore.”
She blew a kiss to her son and walked out the door, leaving him with some food for thought as well as food for his stomach. For the first time since meeting Samantha and reading her crazy bucket list, Colton considered doing more than offering her riding lessons, accepting her help with The Shack, and saying nothing when she said goodbye. His fork tapped against the counter as he considered what exactly “more” would entail.
Out the large front window, a yellow Bug puttered down the lane, passing by The Shack on its way to the ranch. Kajsa sat in the passenger seat with her hand flying through the air, and adjacent to her was a perky profile wearing a tarnished-straw cowboy hat.
Colton tossed the fork in the sink and slid the breakfast plate into the microwave before walking into the slightly overcast June morning. There was a good possibility that Sam was only here because Cassie had too much going on and needed her to drive one last time, but Colton still considered it a second chance. This time, when she said goodbye, he wouldn’t sit by and do nothing.
Colton strode toward the main house, feeling lightness in his feet and anxiousness in his chest. The last time he’d been this excited about a girl, they’d dated for a month before she informed him that she was looking for a man with a little more sophistication. Initially, her rejection had wounded him until he realized she was right. She’d loved her high heels, her flouncy skirts, and her perfect, pale complexion. She hadn’t loved the ranch—or Colton, as it turned out.
Samantha, on the other hand, had embraced everything about his life—bumps, bruises, dead mice, wild horses, and all. If Colton didn’t at least try to see what could happen, he’d always wonder.
As he approached the house, Samantha stood next to the corral, waving a long carrot with bushy green stems at Maj. A few roots dangled from the end as though she’d just plucked the vegetable from the ground. Maj stood on the opposite side of the corral, making no move to accept her offering. She sniffed and stomped the ground with her front hoof.
Samantha raised her voice. “I’ll have you know, this is no ordinary carrot. It’s an expensive, home grown, organic carrot that I picked up at the farmer’s market this morning for no one else but yours truly. Are you really going to turn your nose up at it? Because I know plenty of other horses who would love it.”
Maj turned around, directing her backside toward Samantha.
The carrot dropped to Samantha’s side, and she frowned. “Fine. I’ll just give this to Nutmeg then.” She took a slow step sideways, as though making a show of following through with her threat.
Colton had to bite his lip to keep from laughing and giving himself away. Did she really think reverse psychology would work on a horse?
Sam stopped. “Actually, you know what? I think I’m going to eat the carrot myself instead.” She ripped off the roots before taking a small bite and munching it. Then she crawled to the top of the fence, swung her legs over, and took another bite. “Mmm, this is the best carrot I’ve ever eaten. You sure you don’t want any?”
Maj responded by sniffing at a small cluster of weeds near a post and munching on that.
Sam’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? You’d rather eat weeds? What are you trying to prove anyway? That you’re more stubborn than me? That you’d rather eat garbage than give me the time of day? What is so wrong with me anyway? I am a likeable person. Ask anyone—even my dad. He’ll tell you—”
Colton coughed out a laugh—he couldn’t help it.
Samantha spun around and nearly lost her seat on the fence as she gaped at him. “How long have you been standing there?”
Colton rested his elbows on the fence next to her, still grinning. “If you’re going to use your father as an endorsement, I wouldn’t call him dad. It removes all credibility.”
Samantha stepped off the fence and handed over the carrot. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if she stiffs you, too.”
The moment the vegetable exchanged hands, Maj glanced over her shoulder and gradually meandered her way across the corral to where Colton stood. The punk.
Instead of feeding the mustang the carrot, Colton took Samantha’s hand and placed the carrot on her palm, curling her fingers around it. Still holding her hand, he held out the vegetable. “If you want this carrot,” he said to Maj, “you’re going to eat it from both of us.”
Maj sniffed, bobbed her head a few times, then walked away. Sam immediately pried her hand free and tossed the carrot in the corral. Then she turned her back on the horse and folded her arms in frust
ration. It was an adorable look on her.
Colton leaned a shoulder against the fence. “Why do you suddenly want her to like you so much?”
“Because she likes everyone else. And if I’m the only one she can’t stand, what does that say about me?”
Colton watched her a moment longer before clearing his throat. “I can’t speak for the horse, but I like you just fine.”
Colton wanted to gag on his own words. Just fine? Had he really made it sound like she was an average pair of jeans that he liked okay?
“Um… wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel better,” said Samantha, obviously unimpressed by his pathetic attempt at a compliment.
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that I like you. A lot. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll agree to go out with me this weekend.”
Her brows drew together. “If you’re only asking me because you want to make me feel better, I’d rather you didn’t. There’s nothing worse than a pity date.”
“It’s not a pity date.”
“You sure?”
“Let me put it this way. If you tried to feed me a carrot, I’d eat it in a heartbeat.”
Her eyes widened briefly before a giggle escaped from her mouth. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“And I can’t believe you haven’t said yes yet.”
“I, um—”
From across the corral Maj whinnied, as though she realized the attention was no longer on her. Colton waved a hand in a dismissive way, his eyes still focused on Samantha. Not many girls could pull off the cowboy hat the way she could. She’d chosen one with style; one that complemented her green eyes, high cheekbones, and fountain of curls, and yet there was no pretense or show about her—as though she had no idea how gorgeous she looked or how attractive he found her.
He cocked his head to the side, wishing his heart would stop hammering. “So how ’bout it? Is it date or not?”
She hesitated a moment longer before giving him a slight nod. “All right, cowboy. It’s a date.”
Colton took one step back, then two, trying to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty on Friday.” Then he turned around and headed toward the barn.
“Wait. Where are we going?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“But how should I dress?”
He turned back and let his eyes take her in a moment longer. A light breeze lifted her hair, the shade from her hat darkened her eyes, and her pink shirt and dark jeans hugged her beautiful curves. “You look perfect exactly as you are.”
Her brow wrinkled and she looked down at her clothes. “Please tell me I can wear something besides a hat, boots, and jeans.”
Colton lost the battle to the grin. “Wear whatever you’d like, but keep in mind that you just agreed to go out with a cowboy.” He continued toward the barn, pretending not to hear her mutter, “That’s not helpful.”
He chuckled as he passed through the door and into the muggy barn, mentally patting himself on the back for converting a goodbye into a see-you-soon.
Keep in mind you agreed to go out with a cowboy, Sam thought of Colton’s words as she studied her reflection, not happy with the same old boring jeans, the same straw hat, and the same brown boots. Why couldn’t she wear her favorite wedge sandals, the knee-length white, eyelet skirt that made her feel flirty and feminine, and the turquoise blouse that brightened her eyes? She could have looked fantastic tonight. Instead, she looked her usual, non-wowing normal.
Years ago, her mother had invented the “At Least” game for times such as these, when a situation called for pessimism and they wanted to turn it around. Sam had used it so much it had become second nature.
At least these jeans have a cute design on the back pockets. At least I can wear my hair down. At least this top is a little dressier than normal—or, as dressy as I can pull off with jeans.
The pessimistic thoughts remained, so she tried again.
At least I’m going out with Colton McCoy.
Her lips lifted into a smile as she donned her tattered straw hat. That’s what she needed to remember. Colton.
The doorbell rang, and Sam’s gaze flew to her clock. He was ten minutes early. Who came ten minutes early to a date?
She grabbed her purse and keys and trotted downstairs to find not one, but both of her parents at the front door.
Her mother was doing the talking. “I’m Becky, and this is my husband, Justin. You must be Colton. We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Pleasure to meet you both,” answered Colton, his gaze locking on Sam as she landed at the bottom of the stairs, slightly out of breath.
“Would you like to come in for a moment?” her mother said.
Sam pushed her way through her parents to find Colton wearing black jeans, a fitted, gray and blue plaid, button-down shirt, and a matching black hat. How did he look so much better than every other day when he was wearing the same cowboy garb? Not fair.
She slipped her arm through his and tugged him toward the door. “We really need to be going, don’t we?”
Colton was either clueless or contrary because he wouldn’t budge. “Not yet. I would love to come in, if that’s okay.”
“You really don’t have to,” said Sam. “They bite.”
“So do horses.” He winked, pulling her toward the door.
“Finally,” her mother said as they passed, lifting her hands to the heavens. “A man who can stand up to Sam. We like you already, Colton.”
“That was easy,” he whispered in Sam’s ear.
“Just remember, you brought this on yourself.” She settled on the loveseat next to him, feeling strangely nervous. It had been a long time since she’d had to take part in a pre-date get-to-know-you session with her parents. Roommates were so much less invasive.
“So tell me, Colton,” her father began. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Dad!” Samantha protested, glaring at her father. “He’s joking,” she added to Colton.
“Am I?” her father said.
“Yes,” answered her mother. “You are.”
Colton actually chuckled. “I don’t mind answering the question, sir.”
“Really?” Her father looked surprised, maybe even a little impressed. And who could blame him? Sam was pretty impressed herself.
“I guess I see myself doing much the same thing as I did today. Feed and train horses, clean out the tack room, teach a few young people how to ride, and repair some fencing. Our ranch is land-locked and too small for the cattle business, so there aren’t many opportunities for growth. One day I hope to take over, just not anytime soon.”
“So you plan to stay here in Colorado,” her mother emphasized, shooting a pointed glance at her daughter.
“Yes, ma’am.” Colton looked confused. He was probably thinking, Isn’t that what I just said?
“Are you planning to take over the ranch because you want to?” asked her father.
“Yes, sir. I love working with my hands and with animals and being outdoors. It’s a dream job for me.”
More questions came from both of Sam’s parents. They asked about the history of the ranch, about Colton’s family, and about how the training was going with the wild mustang. Colton answered them all with confidence and wit, always addressing her parents as ma’am and sir. Sam’s nerves settled, and she relaxed against the back of the loveseat, wondering what she’d been worried about. Colton was a pro at this, as though he’d done it a million times before.
Sam frowned at that thought.
“Tell me, Colton,” her father finally said. “Does Maj really hate Sam as much as she says?”
Colton grinned. “Yes, sir. According to Kajsa, the mustang is very jealous of your daughter.”
“Jealous?” asked her mother.
“The horse likes to be the center of attention, and—” Colton looked at Sam in a way that made her heart leap, prance, and c
anter. “Well, let’s just say that when your daughter’s around, the horse doesn’t get nearly as much attention. Samantha’s like the sun—cheery, bright, and warm. Kind of hard to resist that, and Maj knows it.”
Sam’s heart triple-thumped, and a rich, heavenly sensation spread through her body. Three sentences and Maj not liking her became a compliment instead of a flaw. She could have hugged Colton for that.
“Sam does have a very sunny personality,” said her mom. “We used to call her Sunny when she was a toddler.”
“Sunny, huh?” Colton chuckled, and Sam rolled her eyes. That was one nickname she wished her mother had kept to herself.
“What sort of things do you do for fun on the ranch?” her father’s voice came again.
“Lots of things, but the big event happens at the end of July. Every year, my parents host a small, family-and-friends style rodeo. One neighbor brings over a bronc or two, another some cows for roping, and another some sheep for mutton busting. My brother, Spence, dresses up as a clown, and I play the part of the emcee. Then Cider and Whisper—two of our horses—are used for barrel racing. My dad barbeques hamburgers and hot dogs, and my mom whips up the tastiest fruit salad and mint brownies you’ve ever eaten.”
Her father’s expression became very interested. “Did you just say mint brownies?”
“You’re more than welcome to join us, sir. You too, ma’am.”
“And you’re welcome at our house anytime,” added her mom.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Colton stood and replaced his hat, then offered his hand to Sam. “We’d better get going or we’ll be late. It was a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Have fun tonight,” said her mother.
After a moment of hesitation, Sam clasped his hand. It felt warm and rough and wonderful, just like she knew it would. On their way out, she envisioned her mother doing a happy dance the moment they closed the door. Because if anyone could convince her daughter that going to New York was a bad idea, it was Colton McCoy.
Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) Page 9
