The Trouble With Lacy Brown

by Debra Clopton

  “Perfect,” Lacy said. “That means I’m practically open for business.”

  “Me first.”

  Lacy laughed as he pulled off his hat and exposed his pink hair. “Yes, you are definitely my first client. Everybody else will have to wait until Tuesday morning.”

  “I have to say, you’ve done a great job in here. I never thought you could do it in this short time, but the place looks good. You’re going to need help with those mirrors, aren’t you?” He nodded toward the two large mirrors leaning against the brick wall.

  “Yes, they’re really heavy,” Lacy admitted. She wasn’t keen on more help from him. She’d become increasingly agitated working beside him installing the shampoo bowls. More times than she could count, their hands had brushed each other as she passed him tools, or held this or that for him.

  “I’ll hang them,” he offered, interrupting her thoughts. “After—” He lowered his head and pointed at his hair.

  Shrugging off her worries, Lacy smiled then dragged a shampoo chair over in front of the basin. “Sit.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  Lacy bit her lip and met his twinkling gaze, forcing herself to concentrate on getting the right stripping product out of the cabinet. The only problem was as she bent to scrub his mass of hair, he watched her. Their faces were only a few feet away from each other as she bent into the job of scrubbing. To her dismay, it took two different stripping products, and much longer than she’d hoped, to get out the paint. She was overjoyed when at last she was able to declare him paintless. “Praise the Lord, you’re a free man,” she said, patting his hair down with a towel before letting him stand up.

  And I’m a free woman.

  Her nerves were jittering as she moved quickly away to stand by the front counter. She needed distance between them. She needed perspective on the feelings that were churning around inside her.

  He crossed the room, and she watched him lean over and eye himself in the mirror. “Thank you,” he said, moving toward her. “I could kiss you for this,” he teased.

  Lacy tapped her nails on the front counter. “We—we don’t need to get carried away.”

  Clint took another step toward her. “If you knew how important it was to not have pink hair…you would understand my pleasure.” He took another step toward her, mischief dancing in his eyes.

  Lacy tapped her fingers harder.

  “I’ve had you on my mind all week.” His voice sombered.

  They’d managed to skirt the minor problem of their emotions all afternoon and oh, how she wished he’d kept it that way. Denial was so unlike her, she who met things straight on. But this, this she was not ready to handle.

  “You have?” she squeaked. Confused, thrilled.

  His eyes twinkled down at her. “I’m only human. It was an eventful night.”

  “That is an understatement. The rain…nearly drowning, it was all so terrible.” Lacy stilled her fingers and crossed her arms across her stomach.

  “It wasn’t all terrible, Lacy. I enjoyed being with you.” He stepped up and cupped her jaw with his hand. “I enjoyed talking with you, spending time with you. You’re a neat person to get to know.”

  Lacy closed her eyes, lost for a moment in his touch. His hand felt so gentle against her skin.

  “Lace, I tried to stay away. But I can’t get you off my mind.”

  Lacy swallowed hard and fought to gather her nerve. She couldn’t allow herself this distraction. “Clint, I can’t do this. I’m here to concentrate on being a witness for Christ. I would be lying if I denied wanting to get to know you better.” To kiss you. “But, I can’t be distracted right now. My love life is just not in the plan at the moment.”

  There—she had said it, or at least rattled it out. She’d been honest and straightforward. She hadn’t played games with him. He deserved that much.

  He studied her silently for a few moments, before his eyes sobered and his lips slashed upward into that smile of his that had the maddening habit of turning her insides to jelly.

  “See you at church tomorrow.”

  Lacy watched Clint back out the door, then stride to his truck. She sighed. “The trouble with you, Mr. Matlock, is you’re simply too cute for my good.”

  Chapter Ten

  The small country church was set in a clearing on the side of town. It was a quaint beauty that had stood its ground for more than fifty years; at least that was the history that Norma had imparted to her the day before. The church was made of plank siding and sported a new metal roof that glistened in the morning sunlight. Immediately Lacy thought of an old song she faintly remembered from her childhood, about a church in the wildwood. The memory caused her heart to swell with a longing she hadn’t realized was there. In Dallas, she attended a huge church of brick and stone that had every modern convenience for its members. It even had a bookstore right there inside where she could buy any Christian book she wanted. It was a wonderful church, even if you could get lost in the crowd. But as Lacy sat in her car and took in the peaceful country appearance of Mule Hollow’s Church of Faith, she felt a beckoning, an almost overwhelming pull to belong. A smile overcame her as she scrambled from behind the wheel of the Caddy, refraining, in her haste, from hopping over the door—she was after all at church, and she did have on a dress. Not to mention Sheri watching her like a hawk, making certain she at least tried to act like a lady.

  “Hi, Adela,” she called, reaching into the back seat to pick up her Bible, waving at the same time. Adela waved back from where she was waiting on the front steps with a man whom Lacy assumed was the pastor, based on the way he was greeting everyone who entered the church. As she hurried up the walk behind Sheri, Lacy’s heart hummed with excitement.

  Adela hugged them when they stepped up on to the wide front porch. “I’m so happy you both made it this morning. I want to introduce you to the only man in Mule Hollow I don’t think you’ve met. This is Pastor Lewis.”

  The pastor was a few inches shy of being considered tall, but he had snow-white hair and eyes so apple-green that they popped at Lacy with friendliness…or sheer joy at seeing new blood on the church premise. He took each of their hands in a firm handshake and smiled with gusto.

  “You ladies don’t know how long I’ve been praying for you to move here. The good Lord has his own timetable, but I sometimes want to get ahead of Him. But you see, when Adela told me of your coming, I could envision children playing in our playground. Children mean life, especially for church growth.”

  Sheri met Lacy’s gaze and both women’s eyes sparked with agreement.

  “We’re the ones who are glad to be here,” Lacy said. “So far it’s been cool watching things unfold.” She tried not to think about Clint Matlock and the unfolding of a relationship she was baffled by with every passing day. “This church is charming,” she added, pushing thoughts of Clint aside.

  “Do many of the cowboys come to church?” Sheri asked, shrugging when the minister raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I can’t help myself.”

  Pastor Lewis chuckled. “Yes, actually quite a lot of the guys come when their work permits. Sorry to say, but sometimes a cowboy’s work does not respect the Lord’s Day. Here come a few more of them now. Morning, Clint and J.P. Good to see you, Bob.”

  Lacy turned and met Clint’s gaze. She wasn’t pleased at the flush she felt creep up her face. “Hello, Clint, guys.” She nodded to the other cowboys that had followed Clint to the steps and now were streaming past, nodding at her and Sheri as they pulled off their hats and entered the church. Clint stood to the side after shaking hands with the pastor and Adela. Lacy heard Adela question the Pastor about the songs he wanted her to play and they excused themselves to prepare for the service. She found herself alone on the steps of the church with Clint. Sheri had eagerly gone inside with J.P. and the others.

  “You look nice this morning,” Clint said as he took his Stetson off and held it between both his hands. His eyes were steady as they held hers.


  Lacy fought down the jitters, something which was becoming habit, and forced her traitorous voice to sound natural. “Thank you. I like your hair.” You would have liked it pink!

  “Why, thank you. Some really nice lady did it for me.” Tension pulsed between them for a moment. Then he waved toward the door with his hat as the piano music started up. “After you.”

  Lacy entered the coolness of the sanctuary and was dismayed when Clint followed her into a pew. She hadn’t expected to sit beside him through the service. Hiding her surprise, she reached for the songbook at the same time that he did and their hands touched. He pulled back quickly, letting her have that hymnal while he took the one beside it.

  Lacy was about to give herself a good talking-to about focusing on the Lord and not Clint Matlock, when she looked into the choir and nearly bit her lip in surprise. Seeing all those singing cowboys was enough to make many a woman want to join the church, but it wasn’t the cowboys that grabbed Lacy’s attention. Nor were the clashing floral prints of Norma Sue and Esther Mae’s Sunday dresses enough to distract her. The focus of Lacy’s attention was a cute young woman. No one had mentioned a young woman in Mule Hollow.

  “Who is that?” Lacy whispered to Clint, who was really getting into praising the Lord with his joyful noise.

  Not that her noise was any better than his, she was just used to her own.

  “Who?” he asked, bending low to hear her whisper.

  “That tiny woman in the choir. That tiny young woman.”

  “Oh, that’s Lilly Tipps.”

  “Oh.”

  Clint heard her confusion in her voice. “She lives on the outer edge of town, near the county line. We don’t see her much except on Sundays and occasionally when she comes to town to buy feed.”

  “Is she married to one of the cowboys?” Lacy knew she should stop whispering in church, but she was so curious she couldn’t help herself.

  “Lilly. Married. Naa, it was a miracle the first time. It’ll never happen a second time.” Clint shook his head and resumed his singing.

  Though she was still curious, especially since Lilly looked like she was in the midstage of pregnancy, Lacy squelched her questions. Instead she focused on giving praise to Lord, lifting her voice up to clash with Clint’s. They sang all four stanzas of “Amazing Grace” then “Standing on the Promises”. She and Clint ended grinning at each other while sharing a robust, rather off-key harmony.

  When they sat down and Pastor Lewis stepped up to the pulpit, Clint leaned over and whispered, “We might not be Broadway-bound, but God has to be smiling at our effort.”

  “He’s probably rolling with laughter.” She chuckled, watching the small group of choir members file down into the congregation. Esther Mae, red hair tilting to one side, winked at them as she passed by on her way to sit with her husband. Lacy watched as Lilly Tipps moved to the far side of the sanctuary, choosing a spot on a vacant row near the side door.

  Watching her, Lacy was struck by the memory of sitting beside her mother in a congregation full of people yet feeling all alone in the crowd of smiling faces. She’d always felt that her dislike of seeing people sitting on the sidelines of life stemmed from those times as a child, when she’d felt out of place in God’s house. It made her all the more determined as an adult to engage others. Lacy made a mental note that Lilly Tipps would be someone she went out of her way to get to know.

  The sermon was taken from 2 Peter 1:5-7 “And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge. And to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; And to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity.”

  Now Lacy could have believed that the pastor had read her diary, if she kept a diary. The sermon was so close to her heart. It was very thought provoking for her, because if she wanted to work for the Lord she had to learn control…and that was in all aspects of her life.

  Beside her, Clint shifted in his seat and drew her attention. Her manner with him was very upsetting to her. He was one of the first people she’d met coming to Mule Hollow, and constantly she lost it with him. He’d very nearly saved her life, and she had treated him terrible half the time. Of course, part of that was because of the maddening attraction she had toward him. God’s sense of humor once again. Here she was struggling with issues while new issues kept being thrown her way. Of course, she had always been told never to pray for patience without being prepared for war.

  When the service ended, Lacy felt determined, with God’s help, to overcome her loose lips. It could be done; she just needed, as Pastor Lewis had pointed out, to rely more fully on His lead rather than her own.

  Which was exactly what Lacy was striving to do.

  To Lacy’s disappointment, Lilly Tipps left quickly though the side door and was nowhere to be seen when Lacy made it outside. Lacy had hoped to meet her and make a new friend.

  “Lacy,” Sheri said, coming up with J.P. as Lacy made her way to the car, after having said her goodbyes, “I’m going on a picnic with J.P. Want to come?”

  The last thing Lacy wanted was to be the third wheel. “No, thanks. All I want is to go home and crash for a while, maybe read a book. But the two of you have fun.”

  Sheri hugged her, and then headed toward J.P.’s truck as happy as a schoolgirl. The country life was agreeing with Sheri and that was good. Although Lacy had to admit that she missed her friend’s company. Since coming to Mule Hollow they really saw less of each other than when they lived in Dallas. It was funny how she felt more alone in this small town than she had in the Metroplex.

  “Hey, Lacy, wait up.”

  Lacy had just reached her car. Turning around, she faced Clint as he came up beside her.

  “Are you being stood up for the afternoon?”

  “You could say that,” she said, and fought to keep her voice from betraying her lonesome mood.

  “Are you okay? You sound a little down.”

  So much for keeping her chin up. “I’m just thinking. That’s all.”

  Clint ducked his chin and searched her eyes thoughtfully. “Well, look, I owe you for saving Flossy’s calf the other day and thought maybe I could feed you lunch.”

  “You don’t owe me. You saved me from the storm the other night and you installed my shampoo bowls. Math isn’t my strong point, but by my calculations I think we’re even on that score.”

  “I thought you wanted to see Junior?”

  He had her on that one. She smiled. “I do want to see the baby. He’s doing good, right?” The offer was tempting.

  “Getting fatter as we speak. Come on back to the ranch with me, and after I throw a couple of steaks on the pit, we’ll go see the little guy. I promise to keep my hands to myself, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

  Lacy’s heart lifted and she laughed. “In that case, you’re on, cowboy.”

  Clint watched Lacy as she tickled the white curly forehead of the rowdy calf. Her blue eyes sparkled with genuine glee as Junior nudged and prodded her hand with his wet nose.

  Clint was leaning against the stall gate and lost his breath when Lacy turned those glittering eyes toward him. Just as their gazes connected, Junior butted her in the ribs and knocked her to the hay-strewn floor. Most women would have screamed, but Lacy busted out laughing, while he hurried to pull the overzealous calf off her.

  “I told you he was feeling good,” he said, reaching down and taking her hand while he held the calf back with the other hand.

  “You were right,” she said breathlessly between chuckles, accepting his outstretched hand. “I’m so glad he’s doing well.”

  The baby nudged Lacy roughly in the hip. “I think he has a crush on you,” Clint said, grinning. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before you get hurt.”

  Pulling her through the gate, he closed it quickly so that Junior couldn’t follow. The sound of Lacy’s laughter washed over Clint like sunshine breaking through cloud-filled sky. He wa
s drawn to her by something he’d never felt before. And though buried in his desk drawer he had a reminder of all the reasons he should walk away from her, he couldn’t.

  “What did you do to that baby?” she asked. They’d started walking toward the house their arms brushing as they walked. “He’s as strong as an ox.”

  “It’s nothing I did. He just knows a pretty lady when he sees one.”

  “Flattery, Mr. Matlock?” she asked with a sideways glance. Her soft white hair sparkled in the sun and her white teeth flashed at him against her golden skin.

  “Hey, I just tell it like it is, Miss Brown. I see your sunburn is turning to a tan. I was afraid you were going to be a peeling mess.”

  “Me, too. But I usually tan unless I’m foolish and really overdo it. Thanks to you, I escaped the sun just in time.” She stopped walking and placed her hand on his forearm. “Really, thanks for coming to my rescue. Again.”

  Clint squeezed her hand and then led her along a flagstone pathway around the corner of his ranch house to a private deck that stretched out from the back of the house over a sloping hillside. The view was breathtaking. Clint’s land flowed beyond the deck’s railing like a patchwork of greens dotted with brown and black cattle and the blues of a stream dissecting the pastures in a lazy arch.

  “Oh, Clint. What a treasure,” she gasped.

  He stepped up onto the deck and pulled out a chair at the patio table for her. He’d worked hard on his home and it was nice to hear someone admire it.

  “My dad picked this home site forty years ago.” Since his father’s death, Clint had done a number of renovations to the place and he appreciated his father’s choice of building site even more, now that he’d done so much of the work himself.

  Lacy accepted the willow chair he offered.

  “This is interesting looking,” she said, running her hands over the tabletop. “What kind of wood is this?”

  “It’s mesquite.”

  “You mean those awful scrub trees?”