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

by Rachael Anderson

  Sam juggled him on her hip, amazed at how much more he weighed since the last time she’d held him. The kid was solid. “When I come back, he’s going to be walking all over the place, isn’t he?”

  “Let’s hope he starts before you leave,” said Emma. “Crawling keeps them too close to the ground, and they find stuff my vacuum doesn’t, which goes straight in their mouths. I’m really hoping that being upright cures that problem.”

  “You’re just building your little immune system, aren’t you, buddy?” Sam tickled Maxwell’s tummy, making him break into a grin. His chubby arms swished up and down, and his fingers snatched at Sam’s long, curly blonde hair, tugging it.

  “Ouch.” She laughed as she untangled her hair from his fingers. “You little stinker.” She poked his belly again, and he giggled, making Sam fall in love with him all over again.

  “You’d better not forget me,” she said quietly.

  Emma put an arm around Sam and hugged her close. “The only thing he’s going to do is miss you, just like the rest of us. No one could ever forget you. You’ll be home for the holidays and we’ll call, text, and Skype all the time. So you go to New York and have the time of your life. We can’t wait to hear all about it.” She gave Sam’s arm a squeeze before breezing into the kitchen to finish laying out the food.

  Sam looked around, catching Adi and Kajsa snitching from a bag of Doritos. She joined them, snagging a chip for herself, but couldn’t quite get it to her mouth before Maxwell’s fingers closed around it, crushing it into little pieces.

  “You really are a stinker,” chided Sam as she captured his hand and cleaned it with a napkin before he could get it to his mouth.

  Adi and Kajsa giggled.

  “He tries to eat everything,” said Kajsa. “Dad calls him a human garbage disposal.”

  As though trying to prove the nickname, Maxwell snagged her hair again and shoved his fist into his mouth. The girls giggled harder.

  Sam swung Maxwell to her other hip, away from the food, and pulled her hair around to the side, trying to keep it out of his reach. “What’s on the agenda for tomorrow, girls? Sidewalk chalk bonanza? Our annual swimsuit fashion show through the sprinklers? A mud pie contest, which we’ll definitely need to keep away from Maxwell? Or we can always take the raft to the lake and work on our balance. What do you say?”

  “The raft at the lake,” said Kajsa quickly.

  Adi’s expression fell. “I have to pack.”

  “Pack?” Sam tugged her hair away from Maxwell again. “For what?”

  “Cassie and me are going to an Irish dance competition in Chicago.”

  This was news to Sam. Bad news. “When?”

  “Our plane leaves really early Sunday morning.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks!”

  Adi nodded. “The competition is only for one of the weeks, but then we’re going to do some fun things before we come back, like go to a really cool museum and a water park and eat lots and lots of pizza.” Her eyes took on an excited sparkle the more she talked.

  “That doesn’t sound nearly as fun as hanging out with me,” said Sam. “I’m going to miss you. Are you going too, Kajsa?”

  “I can’t.” Her shoulder-length brown hair shook with her head. “I have to work.”

  “She would rather work,” Adi added. “We invited her to come, but she didn’t want to.”

  Sam frowned. “Are you even old enough for a job? You’re only ten.”

  “Almost eleven. I help clean the stables at the McCoy ranch to pay for my riding lessons.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I turned ten and a half. Dad said I was old enough to earn my keep.” She grinned. “Or at least my lessons.”

  “Sheesh,” said Sam. “You have it rough. I didn’t have to start working for art lessons until you two moved in.” She glanced at Adi. “Let me guess. Cassie has you mop the dance floor and scrub the walls to pay for your lessons, right?”

  “Sometimes.” She giggled. “But mostly I just help her with gear days.”

  The girls were sounding way too responsible for the beginning of summer. Sam was almost afraid to ask. “Gear days?”

  Cassie grabbed a chip before stealing Maxwell from Sam. She’d been smart enough to pull her strawberry blonde hair back into a bun, so Maxwell latched onto the collar of her shirt instead. “It’s a store I hold twice a year for people to sell their too-small shoes and dresses to people who can’t afford to buy new. Adi’s the best helper ever.”

  Sam nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

  “The parents appreciate it,” Cassie said, tickling Maxwell’s tummy. “And speaking of jobs, Noah and I have a favor to ask you.”

  “Shoot.” Sam popped a carrot in her mouth, appreciating that she could do it without adorable, pudgy little fingers getting in the way.

  “As Adi probably told you already, we’re headed out of town for two weeks, and Noah is in the middle of a big project at work. I’m hoping you won’t mind hanging out with Kajsa while we’re gone and making sure she gets to her job and riding lessons.”

  This wasn’t exactly how Sam pictured her first two weeks of summer. She wanted to spend time with the girls, not wave goodbye to Adi and be Kajsa’s chauffeur. But what else could she do? They were growing up whether she liked it or not.

  “I would like nothing better than to taxi you around, Kajsa,” Sam said. “But only if you promise to make some time for me after lessons and work.”

  “I’m usually only there for about four hours a day,” Kajsa said.

  Four hours! How far away was this ranch anyway? Was Sam supposed to hang out at the ranch and wait?

  Cassie must have read her thoughts because she placed her hand on Sam’s arm. “Don’t worry. The ranch is only about a thirty minute drive from here. All you have to do is drop Kajsa off and pick her up when she’s done. My aunt Jane is really good to call or text when Kasja’s close to finishing up.”

  That sounds doable, Sam thought. “All right. Consider me your personal chauffeur for the next two weeks. I think I’m going to need to buy one of those cool-looking caps to make it legit.”

  Cassie laughed. “Thanks, Sam. I owe you big-time for this.”

  “Let the girls come with me to the lake tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.”

  “Deal,” said Cassie. “I’ll gladly get all the cleaning and packing done so the girls can spend the day with you before we leave.”

  “Oh, and Noah has to help me unload my car as well,” Sam teased.

  “We’ll all help,” promised Cassie. “Just as soon as we’ve finished eating.”

  With that settled, Sam glanced around the room, hunting for Georgia. When she spied Maxwell’s smaller twin sister in her mother’s arms, she moved to steal her away. With any luck, Georgia would have better manners than her brother.

  A cloud of dust followed Sunshine II as Sam navigated the winding dirt road to the McCoy ranch. The property was a hardy mixture of earth, shrubs, pines, grasses, aspens, and the occasional maple or oak. A lovely little stream babbled not too far from the road, and clusters of pink and white columbine bloomed here and there. Through a grouping of trees up ahead sat a happily situated rambler adjacent to a large barn and some other outbuildings. With clusters of horses grazing in the surrounding pastures, everything about the scene felt like Sam had taken a step back in time. It was hard to believe they were so close to The Springs instead of in the middle of Nowhere, USA.

  “I can see why you like coming here,” Sam said as they neared the house. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Wait until you meet Maverick,” gushed Kajsa. “He’s the most amazing horse in the world.”

  Sam cast a sideways glance at her former little charge who wasn’t so little anymore, though she still looked adorable in the brown felt cowboy hat she wore with matching brown boots. “Is Maverick the horse you usually ride?”

  “No. I ride Whisper.” Sh
e frowned. “He whinnies a lot.”

  “And his name is Whisper?” Sam had to laugh at that.

  “Colton says he’s proof that reverse psychology doesn’t work on horses. What does that mean, anyway?”

  “That the horse has a mind of its own.” Sam nudged Kajsa with her elbow. “You two probably get along great, don’t you?”

  Kajsa nodded. “I like Whisper, but he’s not Maverick. Someday I want to ride a horse the way Colton rides Maverick.”

  “You will. Just give it time. From what I hear you’re a natural-born horsewoman.” They pulled up to the house, and Sam stopped the car, looking around. “Is there a place I should park? Where do we go from here?”

  “You don’t have to come inside. I know where to go and what to do.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, have a fun day.”

  “I will.” A gleam lit Kajsa’s eyes as she slammed the door and jogged toward the house, leaving Sam alone in the car and feeling like she’d been rudely awakened from a happy dream in which she was the center of Adi and Kajsa’s world. Last summer, Sam had taken an internship with a company called Vinyasa in South Carolina, so she’d only spent the sum total of a week with the girls. But those seven days had been crammed full of fun and adventures—from treasure hunts to a pie eating contest to building the world’s most awesome sprinkler out of PVC pipe.

  When Sam had first learned that Jason Brecken Design wouldn’t need her to start until the fall, she’d anticipated an entire summer of those same fun-filled days. But now Adi had dance and Kajsa had the ranch, leaving Sam in the back seat of their lives—or, in this instance, the driver’s seat.

  Kajsa disappeared inside the house, and a loneliness took her place on the passenger side. Sam relaxed against the headrest and drummed her fingers on the lime, fuzzy steering wheel cover she’d gotten as a goodbye gift from a roommate. Soft, bright, and happy, it sent a very loud message: Find something to do that will make YOU happy.

  Yes, that’s exactly what she needed. This temporary “back seat” was Sam’s last summer of freedom, her final hurrah before she had to settle down and become a responsible adult. She wasn’t going to sit around like a pathetic lapdog, watching and waiting, hoping for some attention from the girls. With or without Adi and Kajsa, Sam was going to turn this summer into one that she could always look back on with bright, lime-green, happy memories.

  In order to do that, she needed a list.

  Sam rummaged through her glove compartment until she found a notepad and pen. In big, bolded letters, she spelled out “Summer Bucket List” then tapped the top of the pen against her lower lip as she looked around for inspiration. Her gaze landed on a horse grazing in a nearby pasture and a smile lifted the corners of her lips. She began writing.

  Learn to ride a horse (Maybe Kajsa could help her with that?)

  Ride a bull in a rodeo (You didn’t have to be a professional to do that, right?)

  Learn to country dance

  Have a summer fling with a cowboy

  Sam glanced around again but didn’t see a cowboy anywhere on the premises. Okay, so maybe the ranch was providing too much inspiration. She quickly crossed out “with a cowboy.” A summer fling with any cute guy would work.

  The pen tapped against her lip again as she pushed her thoughts beyond the borders of the ranch—toward food, ice, airplanes, and purple dye. Her positive summer outlook had just been restored when a beefed-up engine rumbled up the drive behind her. Loud banging accompanied the sound, and Sam glanced in her rearview mirror to see a large, red Chevy hauling a beat-up white horse trailer that shook with every bang. Whatever animal was inside that trailer didn’t like being confined. Was it a bull?

  Another loud bang sounded, and the trailer shook again, making the Chevy shake as well.

  Huh. Perhaps riding a bull wasn’t such a great idea.

  Sam was about to scratch it off her list when a good-looking man wearing a brown cowboy hat jumped from the cab of the truck. He took a few steps back and rested his hands on his hips, surveying the volatile trailer. Well-defined arms and shoulders stretched the fabric of his t-shirt, drawing her attention. He looked to be about her age. Maybe a little older. Since he didn’t appear too anxious to free the animal, Sam thought it safe to get out and see what was going on.

  Behind her, the front door to the house opened, and two more cowboy hats appeared, along with Kajsa and a woman with shoulder-length, dusty-brown hair. Sam felt like she’d just walked onto the set of an old western movie. She half expected John Wayne to come riding up on a horse and say, “Don’t say it’s a fine morning or I’ll shoot ya.”

  The owner of a black hat jogged down the steps, barely flicking Sam a glance as he walked past. He had graying sideburns and frown wrinkles on the side of his mouth. “Colton McCoy, what have you done now?”

  Sam eyed the driver of the truck with new interest. So that was the notorious rider of Maverick that Kajsa couldn’t stop talking about. He turned his head to talk to the man wearing the black hat, who Sam assumed was his father, and she caught a glimpse of a handsome profile.

  “I entered the wild mustang makeover contest,” Colton said.

  “You did what?” his father bellowed. His deep voice echoed off the mountain wall to the west of them.

  Colton didn’t seem too intimidated. “Wait until you see her. She’s a beaut. Feisty as all get-out, but runs like the wind. I have one hundred days to train her. Think I can do it?”

  “I’ll tell you what I think you can do.” His father jabbed a finger at the Chevy. “Get in the truck and take that animal back where it came from.”

  “Can’t. It’s all signed, sealed, and delivered,” said Colton. “I was thinking we could keep her in the small corral next to the barn until she settles down.”

  “Son, how do you propose we pay for another horse? We can barely afford the ones we’ve got. And where are you going to find the time to train it? We’ve got the boarders to care for, the two quarter horses to train by July, and several riding lessons you’re committed to teaching—not to mention all the upkeep of the ranch.”

  When Colton didn’t reply, his father massaged his upper nose between his eyes and sighed. “What were you thinking, son?”

  Colton shoved his hands into his pockets and considered the trailer. “I was thinking that horse can either sit in a federal holding facility the rest of its life, or I can find it a better home.” He glanced at his father. “I’ll make it work. I promise.”

  Another long sigh sounded, and the black hat shook, as though accepting the inevitable. “I suppose your brothers and I could help with the training of the quarter horses and some of the riding lessons.”

  “Speak for yourself, Dad,” said a younger version of Colton, who still stood on the front porch. “Colt made his bed. I say we let him lay in it for a while.”

  His father’s frown lines deepened. “And I say you’ve wasted enough time this morning as it is. Go get your brother, will ya? We have a wild horse to secure.”

  “Can I help?” piped up Kajsa, her eyes glowing with excitement.

  Colton’s father’s expression softened as he looked down at her. “I’m going to have to say no to that one, darlin’. But you can watch from a distance.”

  “Is he like Maverick?” Kajsa breathed, watching the trailer with a mixture of awe and reverence.

  Colton chuckled. “It’s a she. And not yet, that’s for sure. Though they do look alike.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “In a few minutes,” promised Colton. “I think we’d better let her calm down a little first.”

  Head still shaking, Colton’s father patted Kajsa on the shoulder before grumbling to his wife, “He’s your son.”

  “No. He’s our son. And right now, I’m pretty proud of him.”

  Colton flicked a glance over his shoulder, and an attractive cleft formed in his chin as he smiled. His dark brown eyes held a tenderness that Sam immediately liked. “Thanks, Ma.”

  “Pr
oud?” His father’s voice boomed again. “Keeping every stray cat or puppy that finds its way onto our property is one thing. Adoptin’ wild horses another.” He pointed a finger at his son as he strode toward the barn. “This had better not become a habit.”

  Colton nodded, and his eyes finally landed on Sam. He gave her a quick once-over before approaching. “I’m sorry. Can I help you with something?”

  Sam leaned her hip against her car and shook her head. “Just enjoying the family drama.” And the man who is causing said drama.

  Colton’s mother laughed. “If drama’s what you’re after, feel free to drop by anytime. I have a feeling there will be plenty of that around here this summer.” She sent her son a speaking glance before holding her hand out to Sam. “Forgive our rudeness, my dear. I’m Jane McCoy. This is our oldest son, Colton, and our favorite helper, Kajsa. The man with zero manners who just walked into the barn is my husband, Mike.”

  Sam took her hand and gave it a quick shake. “It’s good to meet you. I’m—”

  “She already knows me, Aunt Jane.” Kajsa giggled. “That’s Sam.”

  Recognition dawned on Mrs. McCoy’s face. “Oh. I should have known. Kajsa talks about you so much that we feel like we already know you around here.”

  “You don’t look much like a Sam,” Colton said, moving to stand next to her. “I always pictured you burlier with facial hair and, uh… glasses.” His close proximity made Sam’s heart kick up a notch. Next to her short frame, he was tall and had a nice, earthy scent about him. A day or two of growth covered his face.

  “Glasses?” Sam asked. How, exactly, had Kajsa described her?

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Kajsa said you were smart.”

  Sam met his direct gaze with one of her own. “Well, I’m smart enough to know that just because people shorten your name to Colt doesn’t mean you have four legs, a long neck, or a tail.”

  He grinned. “Touché.”

  Mr. McCoy emerged from the barn, carrying a rope. At the same time, two slightly younger versions of Colton appeared from around the side of the house, looking like they’d just entered an arena to witness their first bull fight.