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

that belonged in a Disney movie where horses fought humans with frying pans.
    “You really need to get over yourself,” Sam muttered.
    A laugh sounded behind her, and Sam turned to find Dustin wearing his too-big grin. He rested his elbows on the fence beside her and shook his head. “You know what they say about horses.”
    “What?”
    He took the carrot from her hand and whistled. Moments later, the crazy horse came strutting back and ate that carrot right out of his hand.
    Unbelievable.
    Dustin’s grin widened, and he cocked his head at her. “Horses have a sixth sense about people. If they don’t like ya, there’s usually a reason.”
    With a wink and a chuckle, he walked away.
    Sam frowned at him then frowned at the horse. She knew Dustin had only been teasing, but for a brief moment, she had a crazy thought.
    Is there a reason the horse doesn’t like me? Is something wrong with me?
    Feeling tried and tested—and lacking—Sam slogged toward her happy, yellow Bug, needing its love more than ever.
     

 
    “I bet you blink before I do.” Sam stared at the clock on her nightstand, challenging it to a staring contest. She rolled onto her stomach and lifted her head from the pillow, forcing her non-sleepy eyes to stay open. The glowing red numbers stared back, taking up the challenge. Several seconds ticked by before the numbers blinked, changing from twelve-forty-seven to twelve-forty-eight.
    Triumphant, Sam pointed at the clock. “Told you.”
    She flopped to her back and focused on the ceiling, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. After the ranch in the morning and the welcome home party that evening, it had been a long, busy day. Why wasn’t she tired? Why couldn’t she fall into the deep and dreamy sleep that usually overtook her by now? Why didn’t her pillow-top mattress feel soft and cozy like it usually did?
    Sam shifted positions, trying to find a sweet spot. Any sweet spot. When it didn’t come, she glared at the clock that now glowed twelve-forty-nine. This was going to be a long night.
    Throwing her covers back, Sam padded from her room and down the stairs, trying to avoid the squeaks. She missed the last one, and a loud creak filled the darkness, sounding more than a little creepy.
    “Can’t sleep either?” The deep voice made Sam jump, and she placed her hand over her heart, squinting at the dark shadow sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace.
    “Thanks a lot, Dad,” she whispered. “The last thing I need right now is a surge of adrenalin. What are you doing down here?”
    “Eating leftover cookies.” His hand lifted, holding what looked like a plate. “Want one?”
    Sam stole a cookie before plopping down on the sofa across from him and curling her legs beside her. She bit into it, savoring the sweet taste of one of her mother’s homemade chocolate chip cookies.
    “Aren’t you supposed to be on a diet?” she asked her father.
    “Supposed to be.”
    Several months ago, he’d gone in for his yearly physical. When the blood results came back, reflecting a too-high cholesterol number, Sam’s mother had immediately instigated a new, healthier eating regimen. But on a night like tonight, when her mother had baked a bunch of cookies for Cassie and Adi’s welcome home party, they were left with the inevitable leftovers that her mother couldn’t pawn off on anyone else.
    “I thought she was going to hide these,” Sam mused, taking another bite.
    “Your mother can’t hide anything from me,” said the dark shadow. “I know all her secrets.”
    “She’s going to notice when they’re all gone. Or are you planning to replace them with a forged duplicate?”
    “I was planning on pointing the finger at you—our beautiful, slender daughter with healthy cholesterol and blood pressure.”
    “Flattery will get you everywhere. Want some milk?”
    “Love some.”
    Sam stumbled her way to the kitchen and stubbed her toe on a barstool before filling two glasses of milk. She