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

by Rachael Anderson

  “Our tickets are already booked.”

  Samantha hugged her father next. “I’m glad you’re coming too.”

  “As though I’d ever let your mother visit without me. Someone’s got to monitor the credit card usage.”

  Samantha smiled and sniffed and blinked so fast it probably looked as though someone had turned on a strobe light. Then she jumped in the truck, slammed the door behind her, and stared straight ahead.

  Colton held out his hand for Mr. Kinsey to take. “Thanks for letting me take her, sir.”

  Mr. Kinsey shook his hand and clapped Colton on his shoulder. “Drive safe, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  He nodded goodbye to Mrs. Kinsey then jumped in next to Samantha and turned the key, revving the engine. She continued to stare straight ahead, still blinking fast.

  Colton clasped her shaky hand in his and held it the entire drive to the Denver airport. When they arrived, he helped her check her luggage, get her boarding pass, and slowly walked with her to security. When he could go no further, he pulled her into his arms and held on as tight as he could without crushing her. Her body trembled against his and a sob escaped.

  She raised tear-filled eyes to his. “Why am I doing this?”

  Colton cupped her cheeks with his large hands and swiped the tears from under her eyes. “Because you’re Samantha Kinsey and you can do anything. Why not New York?”

  Through her tears, she smiled.

  “You’re going be the best junior designer they’ve ever hired, and in six months you’ll be promoted to senior designer. In two years, when they offer you a partnership in the company, you’re going to turn them down flat, fly home to Colorado, start your own company, and knock everyone else down a spot on that best-of-the-best ranking list. But only after you marry me.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she choked out.

  “Meanwhile I’m going to win that makeover contest, buy Maj back, start a large horse-training operation, and use Kajsa’s soon-to-be-famous name to bring in the clients.”

  That earned him a laugh, though it sounded more like a shudder. “And I can design all your business cards and ads and anything else you need.”

  “You can take over as marketing director when you get back,” he added.

  “We’ll have the most successful horse-training/graphic design business this side of the Mississsippi.”

  “The other side too.”

  She nodded, her eyes still glistening. “I’ll be back.”

  “I know.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  She fished a small, black and white striped gift bag from her purse and thrust it into his hands. “I got you a goodbye present.”

  “I thought we agreed this wasn’t a goodbye.”

  “It’s more of a don’t-forget-me-while-I’m-gone present.”

  Colton should have known she’d do something like this. He should have come prepared with a gift of his own. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  “I didn’t expect you to.”

  “But—”

  She rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later, cowboy,” came her whispered goodbye. Then she turned and walked away. Her pale yellow dress swished, her white sandals clacked, and her long blonde curls swayed.

  Not once did she look back.

  Colton watched the monitors until “On Time” became “Boarding” and then “Departed.” Only then did he take the gift bag to the privacy of his truck and pull out the black tissue paper. He laughed when he saw Samantha’s bright fuzzy green steering wheel cover nestled inside, along with a note that read: I dare you.

  Without a second thought, Colton stretched it around his faded and cracked leather steering wheel and snapped it into place.

  Under the early, pale-blue Texas sky, The Will Rogers Memorial Center radiated an anxious, competitive energy as trainers checked in and settled their horses. Kajsa had to coax Maj into her stall and stroke her coat to calm her down while Colton stayed in the hallway right outside, sizing up some of their competition.

  A smaller, chocolate mustang reared and whinnied while his older, plumper trainer lost his Stetson as he fought to rein in his horse. Down the way, a slender woman wearing a red, western-style shirt led her bay horse into the stall without any fuss at all. Her long blonde curls reminded him of Samantha and he quickly looked away, but not before the familiar pang of longing registered in his gut.

  Colton had secretly hoped Samantha would hate her job, her boss, or her co-workers, but she’d taken to it instantly. Reading between the lines, she thought her boss walked on water and loved the hustle and bustle of New York. She’d even made friends with a few others in her complex already. The transition, it seemed, had been easy on her.

  Colton, on the other hand, struggled. He missed her. Even though he’d stayed busy doing what he loved to do, he found himself counting down the days until he would see her again.

  “Steady, girl,” came Kajsa’s voice from the stall. “I know you’re excited to get out there and show those people what you can do, but it isn’t time for that yet. You need to calm down.”

  Colton leaned against the stall door and folded his arms. A few weeks before the competition, Kajsa had informed him with a shaky, but very brave voice, that if Maj had to be sold, she wanted someone good to get her. Someone who owned enough land for Maj to run and could afford enough food for her to eat. Someone with lots of money.

  “I want her to win,” she’d said. “If she does, everyone will want to buy her and she’ll be sold to the best person, right?”

  “Right.” Her eleven-year-old logic had charmed Colton. He, too, wanted Maj to win, but for an entirely different reason. The winning trainer would receive a check for five thousand dollars, which, if added to the three thousand they’d managed to earn so far, would hopefully be enough to buy the horse back.

  His phone rang with Samantha’s ringtone, and he quickly lifted it to his ear. “Howdy, city girl.”

  “Well? What’s going on? Has it started yet?” Colton could hear voices and honking in the background.

  “Not yet. They’re still checking people in. It’ll probably be another hour or two before anything happens. Where are you?”

  “Oh, I offered to do the bagel run this morning so I could call and find out what’s going on. I really hate that I can’t be there.” Her workload had been heavier than she thought it would, and she couldn’t get away. That, and plane fare wasn’t cheap. Colton hadn’t been too surprised when she’d broken the news, but it still stunk.

  “I don’t think you’re going to miss too much,” he said. “I have a feeling it’ll be a lot of waiting around for only a few minutes of action.”

  “I still wish I could be there.”

  “Me too.”

  A horse whinnied down the way and bucked against the walls of his stall.

  “Is that Maj?”

  “No,” said Colton. “Some horses still look like they’re giving their trainers a run for their money and others look pretty-behaved. It should be an interesting competition.”

  “How’s Maj doing?”

  “Let’s ask the real trainer and find out.” Colton raised the phone and his voice. “Hey, Kaj, how’s she doin’?”

  “Still over-confident and stubborn as always. Tell Sam I miss her.”

  Colton brought the phone back to his ear. “Hear that?”

  “Tell Kajsa I miss her too. Where’s everyone else?”

  “Only Noah, Cassie, and Adi could make it. They’re in the stands—or, at least they will be. Only the trainers are allowed back with the horses.”

  “I see.” A moment of silence passed before she added, “I’m really sorry I can’t be there. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. Only seventy-seven more days to go,” Colton said, referring to Thanksgiving weekend.

  “Um, yeah…” She didn’t do a good job of hiding the hesitation.r />
  “What does ‘um, yeah’ mean?”

  “It means I really hope so.”

  “You hope so? It’s not a sure thing anymore?”

  She let out a breath. “According to Stephen, the holidays are one of our busiest times. Most employees end up working the majority of the weekend, and those that do take off to visit family take a boatload of work home with them. So…”

  Colton felt a sinking sensation in his gut. “So not until Christmas then.”

  “Probably not.” She sounded as depressed as he felt, not to mention tired. “I’m so sorry.”

  Colton mentally added thirty days to his see-Samantha-again countdown, and the number shot back into the hundreds. Awesome.

  Not.

  “I need to pick up the bagels and get back to work,” she said. “I’ll call again during my lunch break.”

  “We’ll probably be in the middle of competition by then, so I’ll call you tonight after it’s all over.

  “Okay.” She tried to sound perky, but Colton could hear the sorrow. “Tonight then. Good luck, cowboy.”

  “Thanks.” The line went dead, and Colton shoved the phone in his pocket. Then he folded his arms, scuffed his boot against the soft dirt, and prepared for a long wait. During the next two days, one hundred trainers and horses would be scored on three components: the in-hand obstacle course, the riding course, and the overall condition of the horse. Between all of those events, they got to hang out right here.

  Good times.

  When Your Majesty’s name was finally called, Kajsa squared her shoulders and led the horse into the arena. She walked over a bridge, through a darkened tunnel, and around some barrels, leading Maj through each obstacle. Then, with her hand on the mustang’s shoulder, she coaxed Maj into lying down. She crawled into the saddle, gave the horse a pat on the shoulder, and Maj stood, taking Kajsa up with her. Thunderous applause echoed through the stadium, and Kajsa and Maj walked forward, stopped, took several steps backwards, and spun in circles. Twenty minutes after she led Maj into the arena, they rode out. Colton had never been more proud.

  That night, under the bright, artificial lights of the stadium, Your Majesty and Kajsa were selected as one of ten horse-and-rider teams to advance to the free-style finals on Saturday night. When Samantha heard the news, her squeal through the phone made Colton’s ear ring for the next hour. The Mackies celebrated by taking Kajsa and Colton out for a barbeque-done-right dinner.

  The following evening, during the free-style ride, Kajsa removed the saddle and rode bareback around the stadium, showing the judges how Maj obeyed her every command. Then she showed off her standing trick before dipping into an adorable cursty that Adi had instructed her she had to do.

  “Boys bow. Girls curtsy,” she informed her sister matter-of-factly.

  Other trainers put on more of a show. One lassoed a cow while riding without a bridle, another led his horse across a small lake of inflated balloons, showing that the horse didn’t scare easily, and another trainer jumped onto a moving flatbed trailer mid-ride. It was a pretty cool show that culminated with an awards ceremony.

  Maj and Kajsa placed eighth.

  Shoulders back, Kajsa remained stoic as she rode from the arena. But once Maj was safely secured in her stall, she crumpled.

  “Hey now.” Colton pulled her into a tight hug. “Out of one hundred professional trainers, you came in eighth, Kaj. That’s amazing. Why the long face? You should be jumping up and down at how well you did out there. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of you.”

  She raised tear-filled eyes to his. “I wanted her to win. She’s not going to go to the best home now.”

  “That’s not true,” said Colton. “Every single one of these horses will go to a good home, including Maj. You’ll see.”

  The tears continued. “I’m trying to be brave, but I don’t think I can watch someone take her away from me.”

  “I know. But I promise that everything is going to be okay.” He pulled her close once more, hoping against hope that the three thousand would be enough to win back Maj. But the worst-case scenario had just happened. Maj had been a top-ten finisher, which meant she’d probably sell for a lot more than three grand, and eighth place wasn’t enough to win them any award money. So Colton kept quiet and took Kajsa outside to the waiting arms of her family.

  Early Sunday morning, they returned to the arena one last time, along with the ninety-nine other horses. The anxious, competitive energy from two days prior had dwindled into something that felt more like a funeral. Evidently Kajsa wasn’t the only one who’d become attached to her mustang. No trainer looked very happy.

  Horse after horse rode into the arena. The auctioneer gave a brief introduction, and the bidding began. Some of the lesser-trained horses went for four hundred dollars, others twenty-five hundred. The sixth-place finisher—a horse by the name of Butterick—sold for sixty-five hundred.

  Colton’s heart sank. At the rate the bids were going, there was no way they’d get Maj back.

  Samantha chose that moment to call.

  “Hey,” he answered.

  “Oh no. You sound depressed. Please don’t tell me—”

  “We’re not up yet.” Colton chose his words carefully, knowing Kajsa could hear everything he said.

  “How much longer?”

  “I don’t know. Soon, I hope.” The waiting was killing him. Come what may, he wanted to get Kajsa out of that stadium and back home to Colorado. She was tough, but not this tough. Bringing her with him had been a mistake.

  “I’m staying on the line until it’s over,” said Samantha.

  “I’m not sure my battery will last that long.” Colton glanced around. There were still dozens of horses left to be auctioned. “Want me to call you back when our number is called?”

  “Can I talk to Kajsa first?”

  Colton handed the phone over. Kajsa nodded once, twice, and the corner of her mouth actually quirked up before she said, “Love you too,” and gave the phone back to Colton.

  “I’m not sure what you said to her, but you sort of got a smile,” said Colton, loud enough for Kajsa to hear. When she looked his way, he smiled and winked, but there was no quirking of her lips this time. Sometimes he worried she still blamed him for losing Maj.

  Call our number already, he wanted to scream.

  “Number sixty-eight, Your Majesty, ridden by Kajsa Mackie,” the auctioneer finally said.

  “We’re up,” Colton said into the phone.

  Shoulders back and chin up, Kajsa coaxed Maj into the arena. The brief introduction came, and the bidding began. Kajsa didn’t even glance into the stands. She stared straight ahead, reminding Colton of the day he’d driven Samantha to the airport. Maybe that’s where Kajsa had learned it. But it was good she didn’t look around. Otherwise she would have seen her father raising a paddle every so often, retaining the highest bid until it rose to four thousand. Then he shook his head and set the paddle on the seat next to him.

  Colton clenched his jaw in frustration.

  Next to him, a woman wearing a Mustang Makeover nametag waved her hand to get the auctioneer’s attention.

  “I have an anonymous caller on the phone,” she said, pressing her phone to her ear. “He’s bidding forty-five hundred.”

  “And we have forty-five-hundred,” the auctioneer said in rapid-fire English. “Who’ll give me forty-six?”

  Someone in the stands raised a paddle, and the man on the phone bid higher. It happened again and again, until the anonymous caller won Maj for fifty-one hundred dollars.

  “Sold to the anonymous caller,” the auctioneer announced.

  Kajsa turned the horse around to exit the arena, and a single tear fell from the corner of her eye. Colton felt like crying right along with her.

  “Well?” Samantha’s voice came in his ear, reminding him that she was still there.

  “We lost.”

  She didn’t say anything. After all the effort, the hope, the waiti
ng—it had all come to naught. Samantha didn’t need to say anything. Her disappointment was felt all the way from New York.

  “Kevin Grantham,” the woman with the nametag was saying to the recorder. “G.R.A.N.T.H.A.M. He said he wants the horse released to the trainer, Colton McCoy. Yes, that’s right. He would like to remain anonymous.”

  Colton stiffened for a moment then jogged to her side. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  The woman gave him a look that said, It’s none of your business.

  “I’m Colton McCoy.”

  “Oh.” Behind wire-rimmed glasses, her eyes widened but she recovered quickly. “Well, it appears as though you will be taking Your Majesty home with you.”

  “We will?” came Kajsa’s hopeful voice from behind.

  The woman’s expression softened. “Yes, my dear. The anonymous caller was bidding on your behalf. The horse is yours.”

  A smile that had been missing for way too long appeared on Kajsa’s face. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Maj’s neck. “Hear that, Your Majesty? You’re coming home!” She looked at Colton, her expression radiant. “She’s coming home!” Then she slid off Maj’s back, handed the reins to Colton, and ran toward the stands. “I’ll be right back. I have to tell everyone else!”

  Colton glanced down at the reins in his hand and saw his phone. Oh shoot. Samantha.

  He quickly lifted it to his ear. “Um… Samantha? You still there?”

  “Oh, you’re talking to me now?” she said dryly.

  “You’re never going to believe what just happened.”

  “I heard Kajsa, so I know it’s something good. Did I hear Kevin’s name too?”

  “Yeah,” Colton admitted. “Can you believe it? He wants to remain anonymous though, so keep it to yourself.”

  She laughed. “I’ll keep it to myself, but it’s only a matter of time before everyone else finds out.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Kevin has a soft spot for the girls, and who else has the money to do that? I know my parents and Noah and Cassie don’t,” she said. “I mean, seriously. If Kevin wanted to stay anonymous, he should have bought Kajsa a bunny. Not a horse.”