Meeting Her Match (8 page)

T
here were a good many people standing around the small living room as Norma Sue hustled Pace around, introducing him to everyone. All the while, he was aware of Sheri in his peripheral vision. First, she was talking to Lacy in the corner near the entrance to the kitchen. They were laughing. When Lacy left the room, Sheri went with her and Pace had trouble focusing on the conversation going on around him. He wondered what Sheri was up to. Plus, his conscience was eating a hole in his stomach.

He wasn't certain what was going on with the sudden twinkle in Norma Sue's and Esther Mae's eyes. But at the moment, they weren't his concern. He'd judged Sheri. He kept coming back to the words he'd said, and every time he thought about them he felt more hypocritical.

He had a past, yes, but just because she appeared to be living a life similar to what he'd left behind didn't mean he had any right to assume things about her. He
needed some air and time to think and he escaped to the outside as soon as he found the chance. Clint and Norma Sue's husband, Roy Don, were out by the wooden ice cream machines, and he'd never been happier to see the outdoors as he was when he stepped onto the back porch and saw them.

“You look like you've almost had your limit of socializing for one day,” Clint said, grinning.

“You're enjoying my discomfort a little too much,” Pace said drily.

“Oh, believe me, I am.” Clint's smile broadened.

Roy Don spat a string of tobacco juice. “You two always did have a way of enjoyin' each other's misery.”

Pace and Clint had spent many days together roaming the ranch when they were barely teens. Both of them motherless, they'd bonded and learned together to work hard and respect the land. They'd also learned to have a good time while getting their jobs done.

“That's what friends are for, isn't it, Roy Don, to be there for the good and the bad times?” Pace replied, catching sight of Sheri coming out the door.

She was smiling, her eyes twinkling as she practically jogged off the deck. Pace forgot what he'd been about to say. Clint said something, and Pace forced his gaze back to his friend, who was now grinning, watching him with speculation in his eyes. Pace scowled but didn't have time to deny anything. Despite everything that had happened, there was no contradicting that Sheri was a beautiful woman. He was certain Clint saw that he'd noticed the fact.

“Hey, boys,” she drawled, looking playfully at him.

Pace immediately went on red alert as she breezed over to stand beside him, all smiles. No one but him knew she was mad enough to tar and feather him given half the chance.

“Norma Sue says to bring that ice cream in so we can get the Bible study started.”

Roy Don twirled the edge of his mustache and grinned from Sheri to Pace. “Tell her we're on our way, little lady.”

“Will do,” Sheri drawled slowly, winked at Pace then sashayed off like she was back on the red carpet.

What was that all about?
He decided keeping up with Sheri's personalities was a job and a half. Perplexed, he rubbed the back of his neck knowing full well that Roy Don and Clint were staring at him. His thoughts whirring, he watched until Sheri disappeared into the house.

“So
that's
the way it is. You gonna give me and Clint a hand here, Pace, or you gonna stare at that closed door all afternoon like a lovesick pooch?” Roy Don asked. Pace could hear the laughter in the older man's slow Texas drawl.

“Now hold on. You two better not be getting any ideas,” he warned sternly.

Roy Don let out a good belly laugh. “Son,” he said between guffaws, “it's not me and Clint you need to worry about. Haven't you figured that out yet?”

Pace got an instant playback of the look he'd seen on Norma Sue's and Esther Mae's faces, and he had the sinking feeling that Roy Don was more than right.

 

Sheri walked to Pace's truck and waited as he finished his conversation with Clint. The night had been
full of surprises, and truthfully she felt a little ashamed. This had been a Bible study and an ambush all rolled into one nice neat package. Something about that just didn't sit right.

Not that she'd planned it, but she couldn't have planned it any better, either. Now that she knew what he thought of her she was shamefully feeling a bit vindicated.

Pace giving her a ride had been the catalyst she needed to set her plan in motion, and now he would see that there was no stopping this runaway train once it got started. From here on out, all she'd have to do was add a little fuel to the fire every so often and the posse would do the rest. She had asked him to participate with her in this venture to stop them from trying to run her life when really, his cooperation wasn't needed after all.

She watched Pace stride toward the truck and pushed away any remorse she might be feeling. The man had insulted her, and this was the ultimate payback. True, she liked to date. She liked going out to dinner, going to the movies. She loved picnics. Hiking. She absolutely loved a good kiss. That didn't make her a
player.
She had morals. She had boundaries, and who was he to come in here and immediately think badly of her?

She crossed her arms and looked straight ahead as he climbed into the truck. She could have gotten a ride home from someone else, but watching his reactions was too much fun. Why, it was so perfect she could almost let go of her anger at the guy.

She waited for him to say something as he pulled his seat belt on, but he didn't even glance her way. Instead,
he carefully backed the truck out of the drive and headed toward their homes.

Sitting in the darkness she rolled several conversation ideas through her mind, but didn't feel compelled to try and make small talk with him. No need to mess up the mood. He was uncomfortable, probably confused. She watched him catching the speculative glances all evening, and the poor man had no idea what was about to happen to him. Yep, she could see that on some level he suspected what was going on, but he really had no idea what wheels had just rolled into motion.

Good. It would serve him right, Mr. High and Mighty.

Maybe now he would see what she meant when she said a single person had a right to freedom of choice. He was about to get his very own visual lesson, and that might be the best thing for him.

“You're not going to tell me what happened back there, are you?” he said at last.

“Now what fun would there possibly be in me letting you in on that little tidbit?”

A heavy silence ensued.

“If it's worth anything I shouldn't have judged you like that.”

She straightened in the seat. “You're right. It's not worth anything.” Oh, she was feeling ornery.

To her surprise he drove the rest of the way without saying anything else. How insulting…the man had given her a half-baked apology and then he'd just given up.

Not that she would have accepted his apology—but still, the man could have tried a little harder.

Like a silent lug he maneuvered his big truck around
her Jeep where it was blocking the driveway. As soon as he came to a halt she hopped out and stomped toward the house, more than ready to get away from him.

Not that he cared. He was already backing out the minute her foot hit the dirt. She had never been treated so inconsequentially in all of her life.

Why, it was all she could do not to turn around and glare at him. But no way was she going to give him that satisfaction. She just grumbled her frustrations all the way to her door and slammed it after she'd entered. He was long gone by then, and she didn't have to worry about him seeing how bothered she was by his behavior. It was a no-brainer as to why the man had always lived in the wilderness alone.
He belonged there.

 

Sheri woke feeling as surly as she felt when she'd crawled under the covers the night before. Glancing at the clock she felt even more churlish. She didn't have to be at the salon until ten and it was only six. She hadn't gone to sleep until sometime after midnight so waking up this early was not the best morale booster. How had a simple plan to shake things up in Mule Hollow given her the headache she was having? A headache that wore scuffed boots, clinking spurs and a neckerchief she'd like to twist into a noose around his handsome neck.

She tried to put him out of her mind, yanking the covers tighter around her head, but Pace Gentry plagued her. Plagued her!

All right…he interested her. Rude and all, the man would not leave her thoughts. She closed her eyes, then
opened them when she heard a sound she didn't recognize. She sat up, plopped her feet on the carpet, and stumbled to the bedroom window facing the front yard.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. There was a pair of booted feet sticking out from beneath her Jeep.

Pace's truck told her precisely who the boots belonged to. Growling, she stomped to the closet, yanked on her clothes, and stormed outside to see why he was piddling with her vehicle.

“Excuse me,” she said to his legs. “May I be so bold as to inquire why you're under my vehicle?” She crossed her arms and tapped her bare foot in the dirt, waiting for him to show his face. The face she'd thought about all night long, whether she'd wanted to or not.

“Hand me that wrench, please.”

She frowned. Did he not hear her? Looking around, she grabbed the wrench off the fender and slapped it into the hand he extended.

“Ouch,” he said, but managed to hang on to the tool.

She bit the inside of her lip. Hurting him hadn't given her the satisfaction she'd hoped for, and she felt a bit ashamed.

May I remind you the man basically called you an easy woman?
Right. On that thought she looked around for something bigger to hit him with. Spotting a pretty good-sized tree limb across the road, she stormed toward it.

“It should work now.”

His quiet voice halted her steps, and she felt a bit of remorse at her unrepentant hostility. Spinning around she was shocked to see him already standing with his back to her as he pulled the hood closed. He wore a light
gray T-shirt that was stretched across his back. There were bits of sand and grass clinging to the material, perfectly highlighting every lean muscle as he secured the hood. She had the sudden urge to reach out and dust him off. Turning to face her, he met her gaze. It wasn't fair that he was so gorgeous. He had that morning stubble thing going on, and she had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat, noticing how the shirt contrasted with the deeper tones of his eyes.

“W-what are you doing here?” she managed, plunking her fists to her hips and ignoring the ker-thunk of her heart.

“Look, Sheri. I was out of line yesterday. It seems I'm saying that to you constantly. I said some things that I shouldn't have said. I insulted you, and I had no right. Like I said before, I've behaved badly from the first moment we met. I've judged you and you're right, I don't know you.” He raked a hand through his hair.

Sheri followed every movement but got stuck on his eyes. They weren't hard as steel today but soft like a dove's wing.

“I'm asking for your forgiveness.”

Walking to her Jeep, she traced a finger along the hood. He'd made an effort, so that dictated that she had to follow whether she was ready or not. Glancing sideways, she looked up into his eyes again and realized that she was ready. More than ready.

“You fixed my Jeep?” she asked. He nodded, letting his gaze slide over her face. A tremor shivered through her and Sheri stepped away from him, keenly aware of how close they'd been standing.

“Okay, I forgive you. Now, I feel the need for coffee,” she said, spinning away, suddenly desperate to put distance between her and the enticing pull of his eyes and that smile and those muscles…. She padded quickly across the lawn. “Do you want a cup or not?” she called, glancing over her shoulder as soon as there was a bit of distance between them. She told herself it all had to do with her plan, but when he quirked an eyebrow and his eyes sparkled in the early-morning light…her mouth went dry and she had to remind herself to focus.

“Coffee,” he said. “Sounds good.”

Well, she thought, with lengthy sentences such as that the man wasn't going to get himself into trouble, that was for certain. Watching him cross the lawn toward her, she smiled as a sense of anticipation rippled through her.

Mule Hollow Matchmaking Posse, look out, she thought. The game was on. And it most definitely was going to be interesting.

P
ace followed Sheri into her house with mixed feelings. He wanted to talk to her, to make it up to her, so he'd come to fix her Jeep at daybreak hoping to speak to her before she left for work. He needed to explain some things to her, needed her to understand why he behaved like an imbecile half the time. The fact that he thought he needed to explain was a plus for him. Until he'd become a Christian, he'd never considered that he should have to explain himself to anyone.

He knew differently now. He knew that as a Christian he had a new code of conduct to live by, and he held himself in strict accountability for that conduct. Strangely, everything seemed to get jumbled around when he was around Sheri. He found himself behaving in an erratic manner around her. It was disconcerting for a man who'd always been in control of everything he did. This thing with Sheri was putting him in unknown territory.

“Sit,” she said, as soon as they entered the bright
white kitchen. “And be warned, I don't do early mornings well.”

He leaned against the door frame, not comfortable sitting while she was standing. He quickly got caught up in watching her as she snatched the glass carafe from the coffeemaker, wheeled around and shoved it beneath the faucet. While she waited for the water to fill it she stretched her back, leaning to the left then to the right before glancing over her shoulder at him, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Well, sit. You make me nervous standing over me.”

He pulled out a chair and sat. She was a moody thing. Cute, but moody.

“So,” she said, punching the button on the coffeemaker and turning toward him, arms crossed. “While we're on speaking terms, tell me about yourself.”

“You say that like it's not going to last long. Do you know something I don't?” He thought for a second that he saw her cringe.

“Um, no, I was just curious.”

He studied her. She was hedging. He could see it in her eyes. The question was why? “Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?”

“Hey, you came over here waving the white flag this morning. Remember? So talk, bucko.” That almost made him laugh. She had the funniest way of firing off her sentences. Sarcastic, yet there was something about her, something he'd glimpsed yesterday. He'd seen it for only a moment when she jumped out of his cab, but Sheri Marsh had been hurt by his accusations. It astounded him, shamed him and was part of his reason for coming
here. Sheri intrigued him with her almost chameleon-like—he pushed away the thoughts. He didn't want to analyze his neighbor. He'd come to make peace, clear his conscience and then go home and go about his business.

There was no sound in the room other than the ticking of the clock and the gurgle of the coffeemaker. “You want me to talk. About what?” He didn't know what to talk to her about.

“I know you don't like to talk. Tell me about…”

Pace got caught up watching her think. Her eyes were twinkling in a way that had him thinking again how beautiful she was.
Do not go there, Gentry.

“Coffee,” she snapped suddenly. “How did you make it out there in that cabin up in Idaho?”

He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, his gaze holding hers. “On an open fire most mornings.”

“You didn't have a stove?”

“I had a gas burner, but when you're in the middle of nowhere and the nearest place to get more propane is more than a hundred miles away, on bad roads, you conserve your fuel. Besides, I like the flavor of it on the fire.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Coffee on the open flame? Yeah.”

“No, silly. Idaho. Living in that shack out in the boonies?”

He nodded ever so slightly, the grip of longing sweeping over him. “Yeah.”
More than you know.

She took the chair across from him, resting her chin on her fist. Her eyes glistened like honey warmed in the sun. Looking into them, Pace suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss Sheri?

For Pace, her beauty wasn't all about perfection. The most intriguing thing about Sheri Marsh was her attitude. The this-is-me-take-it-or-leave-it attitude…he wasn't so sure he bought into it completely. He wondered about that rough edge. He'd thought about it all night. Something about Sheri Marsh didn't fit.

Still, it wasn't up to him to figure it out, he told himself once more.

“If you loved it so much, then I don't get why you're here. Lacy said you were here under duress.”

The realization that she'd been discussing him with Lacy might have irritated him at one time. Now it didn't. “Look, I came over here to tell you that I've behaved wrong. This getting used to being around people is harder than I expected. I'm not excusing my actions. But—”

“Wait! Cut—” Sheri exclaimed, shooting up from the table. “Coffee first. My mind can't quite grasp the immensity of what you're saying without a wake-up call. How do you drink yours?”

“Black.”

“My kind of man—” She laughed. “I might have a sweet tooth the size of a mammoth tusk, but coffee is supposed to be black.”

Pace chuckled. She swung around instantly, sloshing coffee on the floor.

“Call the doctor! Pace Gentry just laughed.”

“It happens. But you keep that hot coffee swinging around, and we're going to have to call the doctor after you slip.”

“Don't try and change the subject. You chuckled. Wow.”

She traded the carafe for the coffee mugs and care
fully stepped around the spilled liquid. “I'll mop it up after I can function better,” she said, setting his mug in front of him before taking her seat and holding her cup beneath her nose, inhaling.

Pace forced himself to look at his cup of coffee. He hadn't come over here to let his imagination run wild watching Sheri. He'd come here to explain himself and leave. That hadn't changed.

They sipped their coffee in silence for a few minutes. He figured if it meant that much to her he'd do well to let her drink in silence at least for a few moments.

“Okay, continue. You were saying you were having a hard time adjusting to being around people.”

She had been listening. He lifted an eyebrow and studied her over the rim of his cup. “I just thought you should know that, like I tried to explain yesterday. It isn't personal.” That was not entirely true. “Not exactly, anyway. The part about you being a loose woman was completely uncalled for. I only know what I've seen, and you look like you have fun—”

She leveled her gaze on him and set her coffee down with a thud. “That made you think I was a loose woman? The fact that I have fun?”

“With cowboys.”

“You mean with men. Here we go again. I get exactly what you're saying. I just don't like it. Didn't last night. Don't this morning.”

He was saying this all wrong. “Look, I'm trying to explain. The problem isn't with you. It's with me. I might be a Christian now, and I might like my solitude, but I'm not a saint. I have a pretty sordid past when it
comes to women. And if I was headed into town after months of being alone…well, I'd think you were fair game. I'm sorry, but that's the way it looked to me.”

Her eyes narrowed. He was not saying this right. He said a silent prayer that the Lord would help him not make any more of a mess out of this bungled apology. “Don't go getting all hot under the collar. I said it was my problem, not yours.”

“That's supposed to make me feel better? Despite what you think, I do have standards.”

“I know that. Don't you see that appearances…”

She sprang to her feet. “I see plenty, cowboy.”

Pace ran a hand over his face and wished for his hat, which was sitting on the seat of his truck. If he had his hat he could pull it down low over his eyes and block her accusing glare. This was exactly why he liked solitude. No explaining himself. No figuring out somebody else.

For a moment he wondered if the Lord meant what he said about calling Christians out. Maybe some people, like him, were excluded from such a command. After all, what exactly did he have to offer the world? It wasn't as if he had an understanding of all of this. Pushing back his chair, he stood. It was time to get back to his horses. At least there he knew what he was doing. Being around Sheri made him think he didn't understand anything. Anything at all.

“Look,” he said, searching her eyes for a second. She stood rigid, a challenge in her eyes. The woman made him crazy. “You don't have to worry. I'm done here. I've got work to do so I'm out of here. First,
though, I need to know exactly what happened at Norma Sue's last night…other than the fact that I made you mad.”

She surprised him with a smile. “Oh, that. Well, let's just say that you are about to become very much acquainted with the posse.”

“And what does that mean exactly?”

She crossed her arms, her smile flattened but her eyes laughing. “Oh, I couldn't possibly explain it. I might say the wrong thing. Wouldn't want to upset you.”

The woman was killing him. There was no talking to her. It was obvious that she wasn't going to let him forget that he'd insulted her again. Being around her made him feel as if he had his boots on backward. Totally confused, Pace strode toward the door. “Thanks for the coffee,” was all he felt safe saying as he shut the door and left her.

He had come here to repair the bridge he'd burned and try to figure out what had happened at Norma Sue's…. He'd come up short on both counts.