Samantha and the Cowboy by Lorraine Heath Page A

had a hard time believing he was anywhere close to being sixteen.
    â€œI don’t know any of these people,” Sam muttered.
    â€œYou know me. Slim, Squirrel, Jeb.” Poor Jed. His name had been pulled out of the hat. Matt had a feeling that Jake had rigged the drawing so one of the twins would have to stay behind. The last night of round-up, the boyshad a wild time pretending to be each other. “Come on, Sam, this might be our last chance to have some fun for a while.”
    Sam hesitated, and Matt decided to play his final card. With a deep sigh, he sat back against the tree. “All right. You win. We won’t go.”
    Sam’s eyes widened. “What do you mean we? You can go without me.”
    â€œNah, I can’t. Jake said you have to stay as close to me as my shadow. So I figure if you don’t want to go, then I need to stay behind as well so you can obey his order.” He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the disappointment cross Sam’s face. He couldn’t understand Sam’s reluctance to go, but he was fairly certain if he could just get Sam to the dance, he’d enjoy himself.
    â€œOh, all right. I’ll go,” Sam said petulantly.
    â€œYou’ll be glad, Sam. I promise you’re gonna have the best time of your life.”
    Â 
    Sam was having the worst time of her life.
    Standing within the shadows of a corner in the barn, she watched all the goings-on, trying to memorize the various aspects of the night so she could share them with Mary Margaret.
    The beef, beans, and pies had tasted delicious. They’d reminded her of home and made her a trifle homesick.
    The fiddle players struck up a lively tune as soon asthey finished a slower melody. Fast. Slow. Fast. Slow. As much as she tried to prevent it, her foot tapped to the beat of the music.
    The people were friendly. The young ladies, much to her annoyance, were especially so.
    For someone who had claimed that he didn’t want to make friends, Matt sure wasn’t heeding his own advice tonight. He was getting to be best friends with several of the ladies. He also seemed to be one smooth dancer.
    From the moment that the music had started, he hadn’t missed a single dance. Girls were batting their eyelashes at him and smiling with their lips pulled back so far that Sam wondered if they wanted to make sure he knew they possessed all their teeth.
    She didn’t mean to have unkind thoughts. It was just that watching all that flirting made her downright miserable. Dressed in her boy’s clothing, Sam had never felt so dowdy or longed so intensely for a dress.
    She hated herself for envying the girls’ dresses and their long hair. Hair that flowed down their backs or was swept on top of their heads. She loathed seeing the way that Matt smiled at all the girls, as though each one was special.
    His blue eyes held a magical warmth, a warmth he’d never bestowed upon her. But why would he? In his eyes, she was a boy. He had no idea that he’d begun to wander through her dreams.
    The music stopped and she watched as he walked his most recent partner to the table and ladled some lemonade into a glass for her. The girl gave him a flirtatious smile. Matt flashed her a returning grin as though they were sharing something special. Sam hated watching, but she couldn’t make herself look away.
    What she wouldn’t give for Matt to look at her like that.
    â€œHey, Sam,” Squirrel said as he joined her and leaned against a beam. “How come you ain’t dancin’?”
    Since her snipe-hunting expedition, the other hands had been more accepting of her. She supposed it was as they’d told her—a rite of passage. Something she’d needed to do in order to belong.
    â€œDon’t want to dance.” Which wasn’t exactly true. She did want to dance—but she wanted to dance with Matt, and the only way that would happen would be if she revealed her secret.