Meeting Her Match

Sheri knew that was right. She could live alone much easier than Lacy. Lacy would talk the bark off a tree if she didn’t have people around to absorb her chatter. If Lacy were to live like Pace—oh, boy, the cows snowed in with her alone over a long winter would probably know the English language come springtime. Sheri smiled thinking about it.

The big truck and its huge trailer pulled to a halt, the sound drowning out their voices; Sheri leaned in close so Lacy could hear her question. “So he’s going to lease the land and break horses?” She was curious. She told herself it was only because he was going to be living beside her. But she knew it was because, despite everything, there was something about the guy that she found appealing.

Lacy nudged her in the ribs, and Sheri realized she’d been staring at Pace again. So shoot her, she liked to look at him. Not only was he easy on the eyes, but also his stance was that of a man who was very comfortable in his skin. That was a major attraction to Sheri.

“It’s like this, Sheri. Clint says Pace is one of the best there is at breaking horses. So when he called Clint and said he’d decided to go into business for himself but needed a place to start, Clint jumped at the chance to get him to Mule Hollow. He offered the lease in trade for Pace breaking some colts for him. They’ve worked something out. Plus, according to Clint, they go way back. His dad used to break horses some summers for Clint’s dad.”

Sheri found herself watching Pace again; she couldn’t help herself. He strode across the lot to the big truck, his hat was pulled low over his eyes, and there was this little hitch in his stride that made the fringe of his chaps dance and the spurs on his boots sing.

Okay, so the man was fascinating.

So was a porcupine. Both could sting a person if they weren’t careful.

The horses in the huge trailer were whinnying and cutting up something fierce. Sheri wasn’t thinking about the mustangs, however, as Pace untied his horse from the trailer and stepped up into the stirrup. In one graceful move, he was seated in the saddle.

Sheri lost her breath at the sight. It just whooshed right out of her. If ever there was a man meant for the saddle, it was this one. Wow. Tall and straight as a rod, he sat with a command that took Sheri straight back to the heroes of the Old West. She just couldn’t shake that image of him. She swallowed and fought off the sigh that tried to escape her lips. Get a grip, girl.

“Come on, Sheri, let’s get up to the fence so we can watch them unload.”

“Um, right,” she said, blinking. Following Lacy to the corral, she climbed up onto the second rung and hung on to the top board with one hand. She drank the last of her now-cold coffee as she watched the action.

The air crackled with energy as Pace rode his horse into the corral, then moved to the side as the truck doors were pulled open. When the first black mustang exploded into the pen, Sheri was immediately struck by what she was seeing. This was a part of history. Majestic and wild the proud horses galloped out of the interior of the transport trailer. Heads held high and manes flying, the horses were utterly beautiful as they trotted down the ramp and loped around the circle of the large pen. It was awesome. Awesome!

“Pace, he’s going to break these horses?” she gasped. Suddenly, it seemed a shame to tame something so untouched. The word break just held a connotation that seemed almost criminal when used in reference to these proud animals. They were supposed to be wild and free—

“Clint says no one can do what Pace can do. He’s the best there is at giving a horse manners while still letting it retain its dignity and character.”

“So that’s his excuse,” she said softly.

“What’s does that mean?” Lacy asked, looking at her funny. Only then did Sheri realize she’d spoken out loud.

She smiled. “He’s been reading the wrong book.”

“Huh?”

Sheri laughed. “From the way he was acting yesterday it’s obvious that Cowboy Pace has been spending too much time reading the book on horse manners and hasn’t even cracked open the one on cowboy manners.”

Lacy looked from her to Pace and back again, a sparkle in her eye. “Well, Sheri, maybe he needs someone to open the book for him.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Sheri stepped down from the fence shaking her head. “I know trouble when I see it. That man might be easy on the eyes, but he’s a heartbreaker.”

Lacy followed her as she walked away from the pen. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Lacy, it’s written all over him. That guy would shy away from commitment quicker than…” Sheri paused and thought about what she’d just said.

“You?” Lacy finished, grinning as if she’d just won the cow chip toss. She always won the cow chip toss.

“Yeah,” Sheri admitted, turning back to look at her neighbor with an entirely new perspective.

Sheri wasn’t one to think that the Lord paid much attention to her needs. In all fairness, she’d stopped trying to get any special attention from Him a long time ago. Lacy was the one with the direct line to Him. For years Sheri had coasted on her coattails when it came to all that. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that it bothered her some. Maybe at one point a lot. But it wasn’t as if she was going to beg anybody for attention and certainly not God.

Anyway, she understood that when it came to trying to please the Lord, Lacy had that wrapped up. Lacy lived to please Him, and Sheri couldn’t really blame the Lord for giving Lacy more attention. Sheri loved Lacy like a sister and knew she could never have the heart that Lacy had. Why pretend? Some people were good enough to have priority in the Lord’s eyes, and some weren’t. No matter what people might say, that was the way it worked.

Still, if she’d said a prayer for the Lord to send her someone to get the posse off her back—well, she figured Pace Gentry might be the answer to that prayer.

But since she hadn’t asked the Lord for His help and Pace had turned up anyway, she knew it was only a coincidence. Still, she was no dummy. She wouldn’t throw away a golden opportunity when it rode right up to her. Look out, Mule Hollow Matchmakers, the game was on.

Chapter Three

Pace looked over each mustang, assessing them as he guided his mare through their ranks. They looked healthy despite the long trip from the Oklahoma Field Station. A bit ragged, but healthy. They were scared and wary though, congregating in a tight knot and moving about the pen as one unit.

Because they’d made such a long trip and now were in unfamiliar territory, he wanted to make certain their transition was as easy as possible. His own transition gave him even more empathy for these poor creatures. He herded the first six into the second pen then waited on the next group to be released from the second compartment of the trailer. Once he was satisfied that they, too, had made the trip without being injured in the crowded trailer, he rode to the gate and nodded at the young cowhand to let him pass.

“Mr. Gentry,” he said as Pace rode his horse through the gate he held open. “I’d like to come out and watch you work if you’d let me. I mean, sir, Clint said he’d let me help you anytime you needed help.”

Pace dismounted and studied the younger man. He recognized the familiar light in his eyes. “You can come out some—we’ll see about helping me. First, you have to call me Pace. My dad was Mr. Gentry. What’s your name?” Pace held out his hand.

“Jake, sir.”

He accepted Pace’s handshake, and Pace noticed with satisfaction that he had an easy but firm grip. That went a long way in handling a scared horse. “You want to break horses?”

“If I can do it your way, sir. I’ve broke a few, gentled some, but frankly, sir, when I saw that documentary you were featured in I knew I didn’t really have a clue how to do it the right way.”

“Do you have patience?”

“Um, yes, sir. I do.”

Pace nodded. “Come out the end of next week. Right now I want some time alone with them. They need time to adjust to the trip and the change of scenery.”

Jake grinned and nodded as though he’d just been given the best present under the Christmas tree. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here. You need anything else, you call me. I’m at Clint’s bunkhouse.”

Pace watched the younger man leave, reminded of himself, recognizing the gleam in his eyes.

“Hello, neighbor. What’s that you said about patience?”

Pace twisted around, recognizing the voice he knew belonged to his nosy, beautiful neighbor. He might have been less than friendly the day before, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed her. He’d noticed plenty.

He’d been watching her ever since she’d climbed out of that atrocious car of Lacy’s.

He studied her, taking his time, thinking if he could keep her offended enough, maybe she’d leave him alone…. She was staring at him with a playful smirk on her lips that matched the easy lilt of her voice. A tone very different from the irritated one of the day before. Today, she had a bright hat on that said Mornings and Hair Don’t Mix, and she was right. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair was more out of her ponytail than in. It reminded him of a horse’s tail that had tangoed with a crop of scrub bushes.

“My name’s Sheri Marsh, by the way. Thought I’d tell you since you had that sudden emergency inside your cabin yesterday and didn’t have time to inquire.”

There was mischief in her eyes as she held her hand out to him. She had long, slender fingers, and he hesitated before reluctantly wrapping his callused fingers around hers. He swallowed hard at her touch, feeling an unexpected connection as her soft hand met his.

“Patience with people—” he started, his gaze meeting hers and suddenly his gut felt the way it did the moment before he settled into the saddle of a bronc “—is on an entirely different level for a loner like me,” he finished, realizing only then that he was still hanging on to her hand. He dropped it like a hot branding iron, then reached to check the saddle cinch on his horse. His movements out of sync, he forced himself to focus on what he was doing instead of the woman standing near him.

Stepping closer, she ran her hand down the flank of his horse. “Believe me, I figured that one out myself,” she said drily.