Free Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) by Rachael Anderson Page A

focused on the horse. Colton knew because he’d been a little too focused on her.
    “You’re telling me that when you called out ‘Your Majesty,’ the horse came?” said Samantha.
    Kajsa scuffed the ground with her booted foot before shrugging her shoulders. “Well, I had a carrot too.”
    Colton laughed. This day had been one of the more interesting days he’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
    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