Meeting Her Match. Debra Clopton
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“You don’t talk much, do you?” she said.
“Always been a downfall of mine,” he said, resting his hands on the saddle horn.
She kicked a rock, watched it skitter across the dirt. “I used to be that way.”
His disbelief must have shown because her grin widened.
“It’s true,” she protested.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh, yes you did. I heard you loud and clear.”
“What happened?”
“Lacy Brown. Well, Matlock now. She just bullied the shyness out of me. Always dragging me around and forcing me to step up. She’s a brute, that one.”
“Did Clint know this before he married her?”
“Oh yeah. Believe me, he tried to fight it, but she’s contagious. Thank goodness. Now, I kinda like speaking my mind and getting noticed.”
“That’s more than apparent.”
They studied each other until she lifted her eyes to watch a blue jay chase a sparrow out of its territory. “Bully,” she called as they zipped by, the sparrow doing evasive maneuvers, and the blue jay squawking in loud pursuit. Pace chuckled before he could stop himself.
She shot him an indignant look. “They are. They’re always chasing something or griping about it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. Don’t forget, I can hear you, Pace Gentry. So, is it true that you’re the best there ever was at bustin’ a bronc?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. I can get the job done.”
“Are you competing in the rodeo Mule Hollow is putting on at the end of the month?”
Behind him the sun emerged from a cloud and Sheri lifted a hand to shade her eyes, still squinting. She was cute, even with the awful-looking face she was making. It was easy to see why she was so popular with the cowboys.
“Are you?” he asked, causing her to double over with a laugh before springing back up, her eyes twinkling.
“Me?”
“Why’s that so funny?”
“The only thing cowgirlish about me is my love of boots. I barely know which end of that horse you’re on is which.”
Pace’s lip curved up on one side. “Yancy might take that as an insult.” He liked the way her eyes lit up mischievously. “So you live in cattle country, but you’re not a cowgirl?”
She gave a one-sided grin. “That’d be right, bud. I jog on my own two feet. I tried a horse once and fell off.”
“Were you wearing those red frog giggers?”
“Frog giggers! What’s a frog gigger? Are you callin’ my boots ugly?”
“If the shoe fits…”
She slapped her hand to her hip. “Hey, you better back up now. Calling a woman’s footwear ugly is almost as bad as telling her she has an ugly baby.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that.” He couldn’t help his grin now. He’d smiled more in the last ten minutes than he’d smiled since making the decision to leave Idaho.
“Smart man.”
Not so much, he decided, realizing he was enjoying her spunk just a little too much. He straightened in the saddle and pulled his head out of the clouds. “Well, I need to get back to work.” He tipped his hat and nudged Yancy forward, more than aware that she was surprised by his sudden departure.
He could feel her eyes on his back watching him leave. He didn’t look back. The last thing he needed was to get ideas about his neighbor. He didn’t need female complications thrown in on top of trying to build a business and figuring out what God wanted from him.
Chapter Four
Well, so much for thinking they were making progress and having a decent conversation! The man had just closed up and rode off without so much as a have a nice day.
“Hey, cowboy,” Sheri called after Pace. When he didn’t bother to glance back at her despite the almost-pleasant conversation they’d had, Sheri felt her face grow hot. “You are about the rudest man I’ve ever met,” she shouted across the distance, making certain he heard her loud and clear.
He didn’t nod his head, wave his hand or in any way acknowledge that she’d just insulted him. What a jerk.
Clamping her lips in a hard line, it took everything she had to hold back the smart crack begging to be let loose. Instead she forced herself to let him go as she resumed her jog. The man was impossible.
Maybe she needed to rethink involving Pace in her plan. Surely she could find someone else to fit the requirements. Even as she thought it she knew that—rude as he was—he was the right man for the job.
It was obvious the man would never marry—not with that mood disorder. Surely he wouldn’t want the posse trying to fix him up, and that made him perfect.
Her conscience pricked thinking about it. All night long she’d told herself she had good reasons for trying to teach the ladies a lesson…but it was complicated and she wasn’t certain even she could pull it off. She needed to believe in what she was going to do if she was going to be able to pull if off.
“I do believe,” she said aloud.
She was no math whiz, but she could add—unlike the matchmakers. If the Lord had intended for everyone to get married, then the ratio of men to women would be equal. Right?
Right. It might sound silly, but after watching her parents marry—and divorce—as many people as they could, it fit. It was disgusting.
Sheri recognized the truth. Fear of following in her parents’ footsteps factored heavily in her reasons for not wanting to fall in love. And with good reason, she rationalized. She grew bored too easily. No matter how wonderful the guy was, her restlessness always ruined it. Clearly a genetic trait, with her parents’ history and all.
It didn’t take an Einstein to figure out some people just weren’t marriage material. She’d recognized the truth about herself long ago and made peace with it. She simply wanted to go back to the way it had been. She’d always had fun dating the guys she wanted to date then moving on when the time came. Her surprise almost-commitment to J.P. had been a huge step for her. Now she recognized that it had been brought on by the happily-ever-after atmosphere of Mule Hollow. It had invaded the water system, and it was in the air, too. Love. That had to be it. The love bug was floating around, and she’d caught it for a moment. That was the only excuse she could