Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (9 page)

As Kajsa scampered off to finish her chores, Samantha turned to him with a question in her eyes. “You look like you’ve just had an epiphany that I don’t understand. Your Majesty is a mouthful. Are you sure you want to name the horse that?”

“No. But if the shoe fits…” Colton grinned. With one hand on her back and the other clutching the reins, he guided her toward the barn with Nutmeg trailing behind. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be at Samantha’s side, and for a moment, he forgot all about his dislike of temporary things.

The following morning, Kajsa was out of Sam’s car before it came to a complete stop. She waved to Colton, who was working with Your Majesty in the corral, and jogged toward the barn—no doubt motivated to get her chores done as fast as possible so she could help with the training.

Sam tightened the yellow bandana around her hair Cinderella-style and forced her still-aching body out of the car. The early morning was cheery and sunny with only a hint of crispness, and the air smelled like hay and nature. She stifled a yawn and stretched her back, letting the peaceful scenery invigorate her. Out in the pasture, Mr. McCoy rode a horse through some sort of obstacle course that she assumed was used for training purposes, while Spencer filled a massive watering trough with a hose. Dustin was probably in the barn with Kajsa.

Sam walked to the corral and stopped a few feet away from the fence. Like yesterday, Colton stood in the center while Your Majesty cantered circles around him. He wore a bright yellow t-shirt, and Sam had to stifle the childish impulse to point to her bandana and say, “Hey, we match.”

“Good morning,
Your Majesty
,” she said to the horse, wondering if it could detect her sarcasm.

The mustang pulled up short and bobbed its head up and down in an antsy, frustrated way, then trotted to the opposite side of the corral, keeping her back toward Sam.

Colton’s rich laughter almost made up for the mustang’s bad manners. “I think you just got the cold shoulder,” he said. “Apparently Maj is a holder of grudges. What exactly did you say to her yesterday anyway?”

Sam ran her hand over the fence rail and shrugged. “‘Say’ isn’t the exactly the verb I’d use. ‘Yelled’ is a better word. I’m surprised you didn’t hear me.”

Colton grinned as he disconnected the lead rope from the harness and gave the mustang a pat on its back. Sam noticed that the gate was now kept closed with a chain and lock, and she had to smile at that.
How are you going to get out now, Your Majesty?

Real mature, Sam. Real mature.

Colton hopped the fence and stood next to Sam a moment later. “Check it out,” he said, gesturing from her bandana to his shirt. “We match.”

She grinned. “I was just thinking the same thing. You wore that color on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn a certain color on purpose. Why would I?”

“To subtlety hint that I should go back to being a blonde. Admit it.”

Colton tapped her bandana. “Is that why you’re wearing this? To remind yourself that you’d rather be a blonde?”

“I don’t need a reminder. I know I’d rather be a blonde. But I’m stuck with this color for five more days, so until then, I’ll be wearing straw-colored hats and yellow bandanas.”

He fingered some of her curls, and her shoulder tingled where he brushed it with his hand. “Your hair looks more gray than purple today.”

Sam sighed. “I know.”

He gave her a quick once-over and raised a brow at her cut-off denim shorts, old U of C t-shirt, and sneakers. “You’re not exactly dressed for riding lessons.”

“Yeah. My body could use one more recovery day, if that’s okay. And I have something better in mind for today.” Sam lifted the trunk of her car and gestured inside. “Take a look at some of the most powerful and effective cleaning supplies ever made.”

“Some?” Colton’s eyes widened at the two boxes filled with everything from cleaning rags, baking soda, and glass cleaner to bleach, bug killer, and air freshener. “What do you plan to do with all that stuff?”

Sam pushed her trunk closed. “Clean The Shack, of course. I wasn’t kidding about helping out. It’ll be my way of paying you back for my lessons. But I do need you to come down there with me and use those strong muscles of yours”—she tapped his upper arm—“to get me in. My shoulders aren’t quite up to bashing in doors just yet.”

Colton was already shaking his head. “I don’t expect you to pay for riding lessons with hard labor.”

“Cleaning isn’t hard.”

“You haven’t tried scrubbing that bathtub yet.”

Sam didn’t understand why he was arguing. Didn’t he say only yesterday that he’d love her help? She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head at him. “I thought cowboys were supposed to be trustworthy. Yesterday, you said I could help and now I can’t?”

“I said you could
help
, not do it all for me. I’m not about to ‘bash in the door’ and leave you to it. But—”

“Of course you are,” she said. “You have a wild and temperamental mustang to train and I’m sure a bunch of other ranching stuff to do. I wouldn’t have told you I’m here to clean, but I really do need your shoulder to get me inside.”

Colton shifted his weight and stared down the lane, looking like he wasn’t quite sure if he should accept her offer or not.

“Pretty please?” Sam said. “Otherwise I can’t, in good conscience, let you give me any more lessons.”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of my teaching methods.”

“I have faith in you that they’ll go a little better next time.”

He snickered. “They can’t be much worse, can they?”

“Nope. Now about The Shack. Think of the satisfaction I’ll get from making it shine.”

He let out a breath and scratched the back of his neck, still not looking overly happy about it.

“Oh, and if there are any dead mice lying around, I’m also going to need you to get rid of them,” she added.

“I bet you’re going to want the water turned on too.”

Her eyes widened, and she laughed. “Yes, I’m definitely going to want water. And power, if that’s not asking too much.”

His lips pulled into a smile. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I drive a yellow Bug too. Want a ride? I promise that Sunshine is very well behaved and won’t jump any fences or throw you out.”

“I would only expect that from white Bugs named Herbie.”

They both got in the car, and she started the engine. As they drove down the lane, Colton said, “Dare I ask if there’s a Sunshine, the first?”

“Yes. It was an old, rust-colored Datsun that used to belong to Emma Grantham before she married Kevin. I loved the name so much that I decided to name my car the same thing even though they’re nothing alike.”

“Except good for nothing,” Colton said under his breath.

Sam pulled to a stop in front of the small cabin and leveled him a look. “I’m sorry. Did you just say my car was good for nothing?”

“No, of course not.” He let himself out of the car, and Sam had to jog to catch up to him.

“You did too,” she accused.

He shouldered open the door then leaned against the door frame. “I would never say that about a Volkswagen Beetle. I mean, think of all the worthwhile things that car can do. Like look pretty… ish on the road or brighten up the road or… um…”

“Get great gas mileage, turn corners on a dime, be reliable, safe, the perfect size, lovely interior, and just plain fun to drive? That’s what you were going to add, right?”

“Right.” His lips curved into a smile as he left to carry in her boxes.

While Sam unpacked and figured out where to start, Colton did away with all the dead mice and turned on the water. The power was already on. After making sure the faucets worked and there were no major leaks, he left Sam to do her thing.

From the front window, she watched him walk away. Colton had a casual way about him that made her wonder if he’d ever lost it at a horse. She doubted it. From what Kajsa had said, his workload was heavy, and yet he never seemed stressed. He also made time for Kajsa, a wild mustang, and now Sam.

He disappeared around the corner, and Sam rummaged through the boxes until she found a small speaker. She stuck it in the outlet, plugged her phone into it, and let Fall Out Boy breathe some energy into the tired and dry, creaky space. Then she tugged on some latex gloves and got to work.

Sam bleached the tub, sink, toilet, and grout in the bathroom. She washed windows, stripped the bed, and put the linens in a garbage bag for Colton to either wash or toss out. Inside a small closet, she found an old broom and swept the uneven floor as best she could, wishing she’d thought to bring a vacuum instead. Then she scrubbed the floor and baseboards, wiped down walls, and removed all the cobwebs with a feather duster that would be put to rest outside with the dead mice. So gross.

“Secrets” by OneRepublic came on, and Sam belted out the lyrics while peeling the cover off one of the couch cushions. Something scurried over her feet, and she squealed and leapt onto the arm of the couch, seeing a very-much-alive mouse run across the room and disappear under a TV cabinet in the corner.

With all the traps still scattered around, how was it still alive? The broom leaned against the wall not far away, so she grabbed it, ready to smack the rodent if it showed its fuzzy body again.

The front door burst open with a loud bang, and Sam shrieked again, wielding the wooden broom like a weapon as “Secrets” continued to play on in the background.

Colton eyed her from under the rim of his cowboy hat, not saying anything. He didn’t really have to say anything. His what-on-earth-are-you-doing expression said it all.

Sam pointed the broom toward the far corner of the room and squeaked, “Mouse.” Not only did she sound like the rodent, but with her purple hair frizzing from underneath the bandana, she probably looked a lot like one too.

Sam really needed to forget the bucket list and dye her hair back to blonde.

Colton approached her the way he might approach a scared or rabid animal and pried the broom from her fingers. Then he strode to the corner, jiggled the TV stand, and whacked the mouse when it came running out. He scooped it up with a dustpan and walked back out, leaving Sam standing on the arm of the couch.

She hopped down and quickly smoothed her hair and retied the bandana. Then she grabbed another couch cushion and was in the process of peeling off the cover when Colton returned.

“Oh, hey,” she said, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. “Long time, no see.”

His lips twitched at the corners. “I came to invite you to a late lunch. Unless you’d rather I fry up that mouse for you instead.”

Sickened at the thought, Sam shook her head. “I’ll take lunch with your family, thanks.”

He walked around the small space, examining all of her hard work. When he finished, he took the cushion from her hands, set it down, and pulled her into a warm and snuggly bear hug that felt better than a soft throw and a mug of rich hot chocolate on a blizzardy day.

“I’m sorry about the mouse,” he said quietly in her ear.

Wow, this man knew how to hug. Sam could stay right here forever. “Thanks for getting rid of it.”

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “The house looks incredible. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She liked the way his hand caught hers; the way it felt strong and callused and really, really good.

“Let’s go get some grub.”

“Let me clean up first, and I’ll meet you over there.”

Colton nodded toward the front of the house. “I brought the four-wheeler, so I could give you a ride. I’ll be on the front porch when you’re ready.”

He disappeared out the front door, and Sam’s heart felt like dozens of tiny butterflies fluttered inside. Every time he glanced her way, touched her, spoke to her, teased her, or laughed, one more butterfly was added to the mix. There was something about Colton McCoy that made it want to fly.

Sam smiled at her computer monitor, clicked Print, then arched her back and stretched her arms high overhead. Moments later, the printer spit out a black and white graphic of a small cabin surrounded by scattered trees. Below it, the bolded words “THE SHACK” were spelled out using a western font that Sam had spent hours tweaking. A simple border completed the rest of the design.