Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected CowboyHis Ideal MatchThe Rancher's Secret Son

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Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected CowboyHis Ideal MatchThe Rancher's Secret Son Page 4

by Debra Clopton


  “Yes, big fellow,” Lucy murmured, lifting him up and hugging him, “I do believe us two strays have found our home.”

  Rowdy McDermott’s image plopped right back into her contented thoughts, settling in like a sticker poking through a sock.

  Pushing the irritating worry aside, she headed inside to reread her home-repair guide on plastering a wall. She might have trust issues by the wagonload, but she was not a chicken.

  She would not allow her fears to send her running.

  She’d taken her first step toward starting over, and this was where she was making her stand.

  Dew Drop was where Lucy Calvert took control of her life again.

  Chapter Four

  “Excuse me, ma’am. But you want me to do what?”

  Rowdy’s lips twitched as he watched tall, lanky Joseph staring down at Lucy with a look of complete confusion. Always ready to please, the kid usually wore an affable grin, but right now he looked almost in shock. On Saturday Lucy had talked to them in-depth about what she wanted the yard to look like and they’d done a fantastic job. But they hadn’t been inside the house.

  For example, they didn’t know until now that Lucy had a thing about walls. That the only good wall to her was a torn-out wall. He tugged on his ear and watched the show, enjoying every minute of it.

  “I want you to take this sledgehammer,” Lucy said, “and I want you to take a whack at this wall. It’s fun! Believe me. It’s freedom in a swing.”

  “Oh, I believe you,” Joseph said. “It’s just you already knocked out that wall over there, and I wasn’t sure I was hearing you right. I mean, this one’s a perfectly good wall and all.”

  Wes was champing at the bit to swing the sledgehammer. “Knock that dude down, bro. Or I’ll do it.”

  Lucy chuckled. “I want this house opened up. It’s too closed in. I like big airy rooms with lots of light. And, fellas, I’ve got to tell you that your Texas manners are perfect. Y’all have about ma’amed me to death. But you can call me Lucy from here on out. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am—I mean, Lucy,” Joseph complied, taking the sledgehammer and grinning as he looked from it to the blue wall. “I guess I can give this a go.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Wes rubbed his palms together gleefully. “Swing away, Joe.”

  Rowdy’s shoulders shook in silent laughter as Joseph pulled his protective eyewear down, then reared back and swung. A large hole busted through one side of the Sheetrock into the next room. It didn’t take any more encouragement after that. The two teens started taking turns whacking away at the long wall that separated the living room from the den. The wall Rowdy had knocked out had been the divider for the kitchen and living room. What had once been three small dark rooms was now going to be one large space. He had to admit it was going to look good when it was all over with.

  If she didn’t knock all the walls out. The thought had him smiling and he almost said something to set her off, even though he knew she was leaving the load-bearing wall.

  “Those have got to be the sweetest boys,” she said, walking over to him. “Thank you for suggesting they come help me out. I think Joseph thought I had a few screws loose or something.”

  “He’s on board now, though.” Rowdy was curious about Lucy. She was an artist, though he’d yet to see any sign of art anywhere. He suddenly wondered about that. Her house was still loaded down with boxes and the walls were bare. Probably a good thing while she was stirring up all this dust. But was there more to it? His brothers had always called him the curious one. And his curiosity was working double time on Lucy.

  As if sensing he was watching her, she turned her head and met his gaze with eyes that held a hint of wariness. She looked at him often like that and it added to his curiosity. Why?

  She lifted her hand to her collar and tugged it close. He’d noticed she’d done this several times before, as if self-conscious about the burn scar on her neck.

  He’d wondered about the scar and what had caused it. It was obvious that whatever had happened had been painful.

  Being self-conscious about anything was at odds with his image of Lucy.

  “Your grandmother came by this morning with her friends. They’re a great group.” She waved toward the counter loaded with pie and cookies. “I have all kinds of goodies in there left over if you and the guys want to take a break.”

  That made him laugh. In the background the pounding grew steadily, and then something crashed and the boys’ whoops rang joyfully through the house. “As you can hear, I’m not doing anything, so if you mean there’s pie in there from Ms. Jo, then I’m all in.”

  She’d started smiling when the boys started whooping. She was one gorgeous woman.

  “There’s pie. And, by the way, I put in a good word for you.”

  She headed into the kitchen and he followed. She wore another of those oversize shirts, hot pink today, and he began to think it was an artist quirk or something. The collar brushed her jaw and the sleeves covered half her hands, they were so long. And still, as dwarfed as she was in all that cloth, he remembered the feel of her in his arms that first day.

  She might be small, but Lucy Calvert was all woman.

  She turned suddenly and he almost ran over her. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her instead of mowing her down.

  “Sorry about that.” He set her on her feet and she immediately put distance between them.

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m so short it’s easy to miss me.”

  “Hardly. No one would miss you.” His frank assessment of her appeal had her swinging away from him to reach for a pie. She lifted the cover, her shoulders stiff as she did so, and he realized she didn’t like him flirting with her. “I just wasn’t watching where I was going,” he added, trying to ease the tension that had sprung between them.

  She’d started slicing pie with a vengeance. “Will you ask the boys what they’d like to drink with their pie, please?” she asked, as if he hadn’t spoken.

  He stared at her back for a few minutes, confused by her reaction. “Sure,” he said, and went to get the guys.

  What had just happened?

  * * *

  Lucy arrived at Sunrise Ranch with the pit of her stomach churning. She knew a lot about the ranch now, since working with Wes and Joseph. The teens had been fun to be around and had worked really hard. She’d been glad she hired them and got to watch their excitement over being destructive. And they’d been so polite doing it.

  Even now the thought made her smile.

  If it hadn’t been for their constant exuberance, she didn’t know what she’d have done when she’d found herself in Rowdy’s arms once more—one minute she’d been fine and the next his muscled arms had swept her off her feet and his heartbeat was tangoing with her own.

  She’d overreacted. Panicked. She’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be held by a man.

  Forgotten the feel of another heart beating against hers.

  What she hadn’t forgotten was how complete betrayal felt and that had driven her, shaken and babbling, out of his arms and across the room.

  He probably thought she was crazy. Well, that made two of them.

  Letting the excitement of meeting her neighbors take over, she parked beside the house like Ruby Ann had instructed her to do.

  Kids were everywhere. There were several across the way in the arena riding horses, including Joseph and Wes. Three younger boys were taking turns trying to throw their ropes around the horns on a roping dummy in front of the barn. They stopped to watch as she got out of her truck and immediately, ropes dragging, they headed her way.

  “You must be Lucy,” the smallest boy said, arms pumping from side to side as he raced to beat his buddies. His plump cheeks were pink and dampness suffused his face. Obviously he’d been outside
for a while and his oversize wide-rimmed cowboy hat hadn’t completely shaded him from the sunlight.

  “Yes, I am. How did you guess?”

  “I heard Rowdy say you were kinda short. And you ain’t much taller than me.”

  Ha! “True. I can’t deny that you are almost as tall as me.”

  “I’m B.J., by the way. I’m the youngest one here, so I’m supposed to be short.”

  The other two crowded close. Almost the same size, one had brown hair and brown eyes, and the other was blond haired with blue eyes. They looked around nine years old and were almost her height.

  “I’m Sammy and this here is Caleb,” the brown-haired one said. “We heard you let Wes and Joseph knock down walls in your house. We been thinking it would be mighty fun to do. We’re pretty strong. Show her your muscles, Caleb.”

  Immediately all arms cocked to show small bumps that would one day be muscles and truly did have some definition to them despite their young ages.

  Vitality radiated from the three of them in their oversize hats, jeans, boots and B.J. with his leather vest. They could easily go on the cover of a greeting card.

  “So how’s the roping going?”

  “Good, you wanna come try?” B.J. asked, taking her hand in his damp, slightly sticky one. “It’s real fun. I ain’t got it all figured out, but Caleb here, he’s pretty good.”

  “I am, too,” Sammy said, looking put out that B.J. hadn’t said so. “I might be the newest kid here, but I been working real hard and almost got Caleb caught.”

  Lucy laughed at the competitiveness as she allowed B.J. to pull her across the gravel to the metal roping dummy. “I’ll try it. But I’m not promising much.”

  Wes and Joseph rode up to the fence with a slightly younger kid with coal-black hair, blue eyes and a crooked grin. The skinny teen looked amazingly like a younger version of Elvis Presley, whose old movies she’d loved as a kid, watching with her mother. It was one good memory she had of time spent with her mother.

  “You made it,” Wes called over the rail.

  “Your house didn’t cave in yet, did it?” Joseph’s soft-spoken teasing made her smile. He had been so skeptical about taking a swing at the wall, but in the end he’d been a wall-knocking maniac just like Wes. It was easy to see Wes lived on the edge—much like she’d picture Rowdy at that age. But Joseph, he was a gentle soul.

  “No, it’s still standing. At least when I left.”

  “We want to help, too, please,” Sammy said, reiterating what B.J. had said earlier. “Wes was telling us about how you just told them to beat that wall to smithereens and we all want to take a whack at it.”

  Everyone started talking at once, and Lucy found herself in the midst of a huge discussion on why the younger boys should get the chance to come knock out her walls.

  “Whoa, guys.” She called a time-out with her hands. “I have no problem with more help. We’ll set it up with Rowdy. How does that sound?”

  It wasn’t long before Rowdy rode up on a horse with a couple of other men—one was an older cowboy with snow-white hair introduced as Pepper, the horse foreman, and the other was Chet, the Sunrise Ranch top hand. She’d learned from Nana’s visit that Rowdy was the cattle-operation manager and quarter horse trainer. It was easy to see that Rowdy was a hands-on kind of cowboy, dusty from whatever he’d been doing out there on his horse. Lucy’s fingers itched with the desire to paint him and his friends as they’d looked riding in from the open range.

  She’d been struck by the Old West look of Rowdy in his chaps and spurs. And those deep blue, dangerous eyes as they glinted in the sunlight.

  Chet and Pepper led their horses into the barn and he dismounted.

  “I see the boys are making you feel at home.”

  “Very. They’re a great bunch.”

  They all began talking at once and she loved it. Their excitement was contagious.

  “What are y’all practicing for?” she asked them.

  “The ranch rodeo. We got to get good so we can help our teams,” B.J. said, holding his coiled rope in the air like a trophy.

  As she was not sure what the difference was between a ranch rodeo and a regular rodeo, the kids explained that at a ranch rodeo there were events done with teams. The younger ones began telling her about their roping skills and asking if she’d ever mugged, or roped, a calf. Their questions were coming faster than paintballs from a paintball gun and she was barely keeping up.

  Rowdy had crossed his arms, grinning at her as he rocked back on his boots, enjoying her induction into his world.

  “Lucy,” Ruby Ann called from the back porch of the house across the parking lot. When Lucy turned her way, she waved. “Could you come here and give me a hand?”

  “Sure, I’ll be right there.” She smiled at the boys and realized a couple of extras had appeared from somewhere, maybe from inside the barn. There were boys of all heights and sizes everywhere. It was going to be a test of her memory skills just to get them all connected with their names. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’ll see you soon.”

  “We’ve got to wash up and put horses away, and then we’ll be joining you,” Rowdy explained. “Nana gave the house parents a date-night pass, so you get to hang with all sixteen boys and the rest of the family tonight.”

  Lucy did not miss that he was including the boys in the “family.” It touched her deeply. As much as she was struggling with certain aspects of being around him, this was one more glaring declaration of his being a nice guy.

  Ruby Ann held the door open for her and smiled as she entered. “It’s so good to have you here. Met the crew, I see.” She enveloped Lucy in a welcoming hug, then led the way down the hall past the mudroom and into the expansive kitchen.

  “Did I ever! I’m in love.”

  “I know, they’ll just twist your heart and hook you in an instant, won’t they?”

  “They’re amazing.”

  The scrumptious scent of baked bread and pot roast filled the house, if her nose was correct. The tantalizing scents had her stomach growling. These scents were similar to those of her grandmother’s home back when she’d been alive.

  “Dinner smells amazing, Ruby Ann.”

  “Thank you. Now take a seat, and, for goodness’ sake, call me Nana. You’re going to hear it chanted all through the evening by my boys.”

  “Nana it is.” It felt comfortable and right to call her Nana. She loved that Nana called them her boys. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I love a woman who pitches in. You can peel these grapes for the fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”

  “Peel the grapes? Sure,” she said, shocked at the request. She’d never even thought about someone peeling grapes, much less doing it herself.

  Nana chuckled. “I’m just teasing. I’ve already peeled the grapes. But you can slice up these strawberries for me if you don’t mind.”

  Relieved that Nana had been teasing, she sat down and took the knife Nana held out to her.

  There was food everywhere. “This is amazing. How did you ever learn to cook for a group this large?”

  Waving the spoon she’d been stirring cheese into a mountain of mashed potatoes with, she chuckled. “I talked to a caterer and she gave me some formulas. Now it just comes naturally. Kind of like I expect painting comes to you. Right?”

  Lucy remembered the first time she’d walked into a local art studio and picked up a paintbrush. She’d been ten, and her mother had wanted to encourage her drawing ability. Lucy had loved the scents that filled the studio, linseed oil and turpentine, and the instant she’d held that brush, everything in the world had seemed suddenly right.

  It had been a long time since she’d had that feeling. She smiled. “Yes, you’re right. My painting is from instinct, though I had some formal training when I was you
ng.”

  “I read about you, you know. Looked you up on the Net.” Nana’s wise eyes settled on her as she spoke.

  Lucy knew if that were the case, then she knew about the fire. “You did?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Nana studied her. “You had a hard time of it. I’m sorry. How are you doing now?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, trying to figure out where to direct the conversation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought that someone could check her out online. After all, she was an artist with a bit of success. A rush of sound broke into their conversation as the back door opened and one after the other of the boys streamed down the hall and through the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how all of them would fit in the house.

  As if reading her mind, Nana said, “We usually eat in the Chow Hall, but tonight is special, we’re having a guest. So it may be a tight squeeze.”

  Laughter and banter filled the room as Rowdy ushered the boys into the den. His brother Morgan and his wife, Jolie, arrived and Rowdy introduced them. Not that she’d needed the introduction—their resemblance was too similar. Morgan, like Rowdy, had Nana’s direct navy eyes.

  “Morgan and my dad run the business side of the foster program and the ranch. Jolie has been our schoolteacher since the beginning of the year.”

  “I can’t wait to see some of your work.” Jolie’s wide smile reminded Lucy instantly of Julia Roberts, especially with her auburn hair and her expressive eyes. “I envy an artist their abilities. I’m a klutz with a brush in my hand.”

  “I won’t believe that until I see it.” Lucy had the distinct impression that this lady could do anything she set her mind to. And quickly she learned it was true when Morgan told her Jolie was a champion kayaker. It was easy to see his pride in her accomplishments. Tim had always seemed threatened by her success. His greatest wish had been for her to give up her work.

  Lucy was so thankful that she hadn’t done that.

  Looking at Morgan and Jolie, she had to admit that she envied the bond between them. Their mutual respect spoke volumes.

  They all talked about her work some—that it was in galleries and that she also sold prints. She wasn’t Thomas Kinkaid or Norman Rockwell, but she was blessed to have some recognition, giving her the ability to paint full-time.

 

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