you’re moving in.” She came to a halt a few feet behind him and placed her hands on her hips, awaiting a reply. None came.
Instead, as if he hadn’t heard her, he reached for a coil of rope that lay on the tailgate beside a duffel bag and saddle. He slid the rope to his shoulder, then finally turned toward her.
If she’d been wearing four-inch heels, she’d have fallen straight off them. The man was gorgeous! The rugged, black-haired cowboy cocked his head toward her and met her startled gaze straight on with eyes the color of a stormy night sky.
Oh, my, my, my, looking at this handsome stranger confirmed what she’d known all her life. What she was trying to get the posse to realize about her.
She was not marriage material.
And that was not with a capital N.
Honestly, if all it took was one look into some stranger’s eyes to remind her of the main reason she didn’t make commitments—then there ya go. It was a done deal.
As her mom always said, “Some people just aren’t good at being tied down”—but it wasn’t only the echo of her mom.
Sheri just liked dating. There, her secret was out.
This was exactly the reminder she needed that the matchmakers were on a mission that would ultimately fail. And why she shouldn’t feel bummed about it because really she enjoyed dating. She absolutely loved this. There simply wasn’t anything as exciting as the initial spark of interest between a man and a woman. Like now, it was breathtaking. Then again, Sheri realized suddenly that the cowboy seemed to be breathing just fine.
Sheri reined in her runaway exhilaration and put her feet back on the ground. Her reaction to this handsome stranger had been so strong that it took a second to see that he didn’t appear to have been bitten by the same bug.
Drat.
Instead, his steel-gray eyes skimmed over her with disdain—as if he were looking at the latest order of pesticide.
Sheri’s eyes widened as he adjusted the rope on his shoulder, then without uttering a word slung the saddle to his back and strode away.
Sheri realized suddenly that a little caution mighta been in order.
She hadn’t lived in the city in a while, and obviously her guard was down. His cold look yanked her straight out of her imaginings and slam-dunked her right back into reality. She was standing in the middle of nowhere, alone, with a man who looked as though he could stare down a wildcat and never blink.
Who was she kidding? He looked as though he could shoot it, skin it and eat it for supper. Raw!
At last, she reacted like a smart woman and took a step back. But that dismissive glance…it bothered her. Sheri had come a long way from being the once shy little girl who expected to be ignored, so this just didn’t sit well with her.
Oh yeah, baby. Danger or no danger, Sheri Marsh refused to be ignored by anybody, anywhere, anytime. She could excuse a guy for almost anything, even for falling in love with someone else, but she would not excuse a guy for ignoring her. Her hard-won “I’m here, I matter” personality demanded more.
“Hey, cowboy,” she snapped and glared at his back.
“I don’t know where you come from, but around here cowboys have manners. When someone speaks, an answer is generally appropriate.”
That got his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. She met his stare with her own. That’s right, locked her spine, threw her shoulders back and dared him to ignore her again.
“Pace Gentry,” he said without halting. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Okay, as if that made her feel any better. Sheri’s eyes narrowed to slits. The man hadn’t even broken step as he disappeared inside the shack. Of all the unmitigated gall. She felt like the lid of a pressure cooker barely hanging on as she waited for him to reappear.
In an instant he returned and strode back to his truck…swaggered was more like it. Passed her by without so much as a glance. It struck her then that this wasn’t any kind of cowboy she’d ever encountered. He was different in actions and in dress. It was subtle, but there were distinct differences.
Besides his collar-length hair, he had a strong jawline shadowed by a flat-rimmed, black Stetson devoid of the more traditional crease. Around his neck he wore a large checked bandanna tied loosely, as if he might pull it up at any moment to protect him from the trail dust of a hard cattle drive—
Or, with the dangerous glint in his eyes, maybe to rob a bank!
Then there were the spurs sticking out from beneath his chaps. They were more ornate than any Sheri had seen on the cowboys around Mule Hollow. These spurs were either for show or for intense business. From the look on his face, Sheri couldn’t envision anything about him being for show.
Nope, this man was all business, easily mistaken for a cowboy fresh off the trail a hundred years ago. Still, it was his intense gray eyes that told the story…this cowboy was one hundred percent authentic you-don’t-want-to-mess-with-me cowboy.
Again, good sense mandated she turn around and get out of there immediately.
Yeah, right!
“Look, this is my friend’s property, and I’m just making sure they know you’re setting up camp out here.”
She felt a sense of achievement when he stopped mid-swagger to glare at her. Suddenly, it felt as though he’d just weighed and measured her, and she’d come up lacking.
“Like I said,” he drawled, his eyes cool. “Not that it’s any more your business now than two minutes ago, but Clint knows I’m here.”
The gravel in his drawl sent a shiver up Sheri’s spine that had nothing to do with fright. “Lacy would have told me if someone was moving onto the ranch around the bend from me.”
Hoisting a duffel bag to his shoulder he slammed the tailgate closed. His spurs sang a little ditty with every step he took away from her.
He’d dismissed her again!
“Hey, mister, the macho man thing’s not really working for me.”
He scowled down at her from the rickety porch. “Look, lady, I’m here to break horses. If you’ve got a problem with that, then take it up with Clint Matlock.”
Before she could react, he disappeared into the tiny cabin and closed the door. Slammed the door was more like it. In her face, practically.
“Of all the rude, unmannered—” She halted mid-rant. He was probably inside the cabin watching through the window. No doubt laughing at the sight she must make standing in the middle of his drive with her mouth hanging open, her fists clinched at her sides. If only she had a mirror; she was no doubt fire-engine red with indignation.
The worst part about the entire situation was he was right. Boy, did that ever just annoy the thunder out of her. Well, not exactly right, she consoled herself. Fact was Clint and Lacy were her friends and she’d just wanted to make certain no funny business was going on out here on their property.
But
