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The Trouble With Lacy Brown

Page 11

by Debra Clopton


  “The same.” Clint moved to the huge grill and the steaks he had waiting to cook.

  “Who would have ever believed you could make something so beautiful with something so—”

  “Useless,” Clint finished for her.

  “Exactly. Another reminder of how everything God created has beauty. Sometimes it simply takes sanding and polishing to make it gleam.”

  Clint smiled. That was Lacy, always seeing the big picture. He continued to work at the stone counter.

  “Here let me do something,” Lacy said, joining him. “I can help. Really.”

  “Okay, you can go into the kitchen and bring out the salad. It’s in the fridge. Can you grab the tray with the cheese and butter for the potatoes too?”

  “Sure thing, I’ll be right back.”

  He watched her bound into the house, happy as a lark. He’d had a hard time sitting beside her in church earlier. She couldn’t carry a note any better than he could, but they’d praised the Lord with smiles on their faces and joy in their hearts. Sharing that kind of worship had been an unbelievable experience. It was also cause for concern on his part. He’d started seeing Lacy in a better light than he had when she’d first come to town. Still, he had reservations about his feelings for her.

  Thoughts of the letter gathering dust in the drawer in his office reminded him that things could change in the blink of an eye. His mother had once seemed to love the Lord, too.

  Pushing aside thoughts of the letter from his mother, determined to give Lacy a chance, he forced himself to look at all the good Lacy had done since coming to Mule Hollow.

  Despite his reservations, he’d begun to believe that the town might just benefit from her ideas and energy. He’d noticed during the sermon that she’d grown very thoughtful and he wondered if something in the message had bothered her.

  “Wow,” she said, coming out of the French doors, her arms loaded down. “Your house looks like it came straight off the showcase floor of a building center.”

  “Thanks. A lot of labor went into those rooms.”

  “I can tell.” She set the salads down and arranged the condiments.

  “Lacy, may I ask you something?” He turned to face her. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the rock counter.

  “Sure, anything.”

  “Was something bothering you this morning during the service? I’d like to help.”

  For a moment her eyes registered uncertainty before she looked away.

  “I’m feeling a little confused, is all.”

  “I’m a good listener.”

  She took a deep breath and toyed with a napkin, laid it aside then tapped her purple fingernail on the table in her familiar impatient fashion. “Okay, here it is.” She strode to the deck railing and looked out over the landscape. The gentle breeze ruffled her hair as she turned to face him. “You know what a mouth I have on me. Not cursing or anything like that, but just a big mouth… I’m sure you haven’t noticed that.”

  Clint laughed at that. “Maybe a little.”

  She made a funny face at him, then started pacing. Clint enjoyed watching her. She had on a soft dress that, like the dress she wore the night of the flood, swirled around her calves as she moved. Her face was animated as she spun to face him.

  “I’m going to be nicer from here on out. “

  “Does that mean things are going to be boring now?” He was disappointed that she might change. Surprising, but true. He took steaks off the grill, plopped their foil-covered baked potatoes on the plates and took them to the table.

  Lacy followed him to her seat at the table. “With me around… Are you kidding?”

  “Lacy Brown, I have an idea that it will never be boring anywhere within a two-day drive from where you are.”

  Lacy laughed. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

  “A very good thing.” He couldn’t help wonder what he was getting himself into by becoming friends with Lacy.

  “But.” Lacy grew thoughtful. “Oh, how I would love to tame my mouth.”

  He concentrated on adding cheese and butter to his potato then paused. “Do you really think your outspokenness is all that bad?”

  Lacy stopped preparing her potato. “Maybe.”

  “Hold that thought while I say the prayer.” They bowed their heads and he thanked God for the food and good company. “So let me get this straight. God Himself doesn’t like it?” He took a bite of his steak and watched her contemplate his question. Man, she was cute when she thought really hard. She had reminded him of Meg Ryan the first time he saw her, but when she put her thinking cap on, she really had similar facial expressions. It was entertaining just watching the metamorphosis.

  “Not exactly.” She pointed her fork at him and smiled. “You sure you want to hear my exhortation on how I don’t measure up?”

  “Yes, I do.” She was serious. The carefree Lacy Brown actually thought she wasn’t good enough. The idea slammed into Clint. It wasn’t anything like what he expected her to feel. She came across so in tune with herself.

  “Well, that list could go on forever. Let’s just say that I feel pretty defeated every time my exuberance leads me down the wrong path. Oh, how I wish I could think before I act or speak, more often.”

  “I have a feeling God likes watching your exuberance. I know I do.” He said it and he knew it was true. Who couldn’t enjoy watching someone as full of life as Lacy? Who couldn’t want to be that way themselves? “You’re pretty funny, Lacy Brown.”

  “You’re pretty funny yourself.” She grinned as she cut into her steak.

  “My dad taught me.” Clint cut his steak and let the memories of his dad fill his mind.

  “He must have been a wonderful man.”

  Clint smiled. “The best. A kid couldn’t have asked to be loved by a dad any more than I was. Not that we didn’t have our differences, but even though—” Clint paused, his heart ached for a moment. He was weirdly emotional today. His feelings seemed to be crowding in on him. “Even though he didn’t always tell me he loved me, I knew it.”

  Lacy put down her fork and laid her small hand over his. “A kid can tell these things. Love is an emotion that doesn’t always need words.” She squeezed his hand, then pulled back, fiddling with her napkin before picking up her fork again. “I see it all the time in my salon. People, especially men, talking about their kids, and though they don’t just blurt out, ‘I love my kid’, it’s in the things they say, the way they express themselves. It’s in their eyes.”

  Her eyes held his. Clint could listen to her talk forever.

  She leaned her head to the side and smiled. “My mom was different. She told me she loved me almost every hour. I think it had to do with my dad leaving. I think she wanted to reassure me that her love would always be there for me. But she didn’t have to worry about that. I knew.”

  “Where is your mom now?”

  “She remarried and moved to Okalahoma. She’s very happy. She was excited about me coming to Mule Hollow.”

  “Really. She wasn’t worried about you?”

  “Maybe, but if she was, she wouldn’t tell me. She got used to my weird ways a long time ago.”

  Clint thought about that for a moment.

  “You make a killer steak.” Lacy beamed. “This is really good.”

  Clint put his fears aside, refusing to dim the wonderful afternoon he was having. “You keep being nice and I might tell you my secret sometime.” He was glad to change the subject. He was only human, and he enjoyed her playfulness.

  “You tell me your secret and I’ll tell you my secret to the best berry cobbler in the world.”

  Clint leaned back in his chair, folded his arms behind his head and stretched. “Berry cobbler, huh? Let me think about this. You can actually cook. A cobbler?”

  “Weird but true.”

  “You might have to prove that to me before I give you my secrets.”

  “You’ve got a deal, cowboy.”

  Chapter Eleve
n

  Tangled in her daisy-dotted sheets, Lacy plopped over onto her back as the Monday-morning sunshine crept through her bedroom window. It was the first day of a new week. “Good morning, Lord,” she said, stretching like a kitten in a sunbeam. Rubbing her eyes with her fist, she sat up. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she swung them sideways for a few seconds. She loved mornings. Padding to the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, ran some water through her wild natural waves then picked up her Bible and walked into the kitchen.

  Her morning coffee sat waiting and ready for her, thanks to a nifty coffeemaker. After filling her mug she walked out onto the porch and curled up in the swing with God’s word.

  She’d started sitting in the swing soon after she and Sheri moved into their little cottage. She felt wonderful today. She knew it was because of her afternoon with Clint the day before. “Father, he said he enjoyed my exuberance.” She spoke aloud as she thumbed through the Bible. Clint had reminded her before she came home that Peter held a special place in God’s heart. In doing so he’d given her something to think about. But this morning she paused in her Bible study, her thoughts fixed on Clint.

  She wondered what had happened to his mom after she’d abandoned him. She wondered how he felt toward his mom. Did he ever see her? Had he forgiven her?

  It was a huge question Lacy understood completely. She had forgiven her dad for casting her aside for another life. Lacy looked out over the backyard lost in thought. After her dad walked out, she’d never seen him again. It had taken a long time to understand that she needed to forgive her father even if she couldn’t see him face-to-face. Even if he hadn’t asked to be forgiven. Or cared.

  She couldn’t help feeling that maybe Clint needed to come to terms with some form of reconciliation with his mother.

  She might not have known the love of an earthly dad but she had the all-encompassing love of an awesome heavenly Father.

  Lacy and Sheri arrived at Adela’s for a planning session and a walk through of Mule Hollow’s newly opened apartments-slash-bed-and-breakfast.

  The old Howard estate had been built in 1904 by Adela’s grandfather on her mother’s side. Originally built as a boardinghouse, it thrilled Adela that she was able to bring it full circle. There were six small one-bedroom apartments. There were also two bedrooms that Adela left for bed-and-breakfast rooms for those who were just staying a short time. The house had a huge kitchen and dining room, and though Adela and her husband had raised their three children in the house, the upkeep had been far too much for her after her children moved on and her husband died. She had lived next door in a small cottage for the past ten years. Today there were tears in her eyes when she greeted Lacy and Sheri at the door.

  Lacy lost her breath when she and Sheri stepped through the door. The woodwork was gleaming and the dark hardwood floors shone. The staircase that rose three stories was magnificent as it wound upward from the entrance hall.

  “Adela, this is fabulous,” Sheri actually exclaimed before Lacy could get her breath.

  “Oh, Adela,” Lacy gasped. “What a treasure this is.”

  “Come in,” Adela invited, breathless with pleasure. “I’m so thrilled with the outcome that I could quite literally burst. My granddaddy would be so pleased that his home was about to be lived in and admired again. You know he did much of the carving himself.”

  They followed her through the large rooms with its era furniture and crisp white curtains. The home was filled with ornate crushed velvet couches that invited one to sit and read a book. Lacy could envision the place packed with people. The bookcases were even packed with books that had probably been collected over one hundred years. What a treasure.

  In the kitchen, Norma Sue and Esther Mae were polishing silverware. Their chatter filled the house, and Lacy laughed as they drew close.

  “With all this standing we’re going to be doing I bought me some of those Neutralizer shoes to wear,” Esther Mae was saying as Lacy stepped into the kitchen. “They are supposed to be real good for your feet if you’re standing all day.”

  Norma Sue paused in her spoon rubbing. “That’s Naturalizers, Esther Mae.”

  “Oh, well, either way they are comfortable. My feet feel like they are floating on air. And look, ya’ll—” she lifted her hefty leg up “—they’re cute, too. Lacy, you need to get you a pair of these for standing on your feet all day in the salon.”

  “I might try me some. Thanks for the advice.” Lacy pulled out a stool and sat down at the bar.

  “Just make sure you buy the Naturalizers and not the Neutralizers,” piped in Norma Sue. “Unless of course you have a bad case of foot odor!”

  Everybody got tickled at that, and Esther Mae turned as red as her hair.

  While Lacy joined in on the silver polishing, Adela and Sheri fixed a plate of sandwiches and iced tea. When they carried the food to the table, everyone sat down, joined hands and prayed for the food and the town.

  “I have a surprise to share,” Adela said as they passed the platter around. “Three apartments are spoken for and the two guest rooms are booked for the weekend of the fair.”

  “Hallelujah!” exclaimed Norma Sue.

  “Sheri, I told you they would come.” Lacy beamed, reaching out to accept the hug Sheri offered.

  “I hoped you would be right,” she said, grinning.

  Esther Mae patted her updo and expelled a long breath. “Whew, I can hardly wait. When are they coming?”

  “Let’s see, Ashby Templeton is coming out from California at the end of next week. She’s the one interested in opening a dress store. She said she had grown weary of the city and has been looking for a place to open a store. She has a Web site that she sells her clothing on and does a very good business there. So she is a perfect candidate.”

  Everyone exchanged thrilled smiles, then waited for Adela to continue.

  “Two of the apartments are being rented by school-teachers. We had very good timing with the ad, because a lot of the new teachers coming into the school system hadn’t relocated to the area yet, and decided to give us a chance. And then the last room is a columnist and freelance reporter for the Houston Times. Her name is Molly Popp. Isn’t that a cute name? Reminds me of that old song about lollipops. She said she did a lot of traveling, but was tired and had really been thinking about settling down and writing a book. She is renting a room, but if she feels this is a place she would like to stay, then she is going to rent an apartment. Can you imagine, ladies, she might settle here also?”

  Everyone was clapping and she waved them silent. “But it gets better. She’s mentioning the fair in her weekly column, and encouraging single women and even families to come out to participate in it. Then she’s writing an article about the fair’s success.”

  Lacy’s heart pounded in her chest as she closed her eyes and thanked God for His faithfulness. Mule Hollow wasn’t going to be a sad little town anymore. This was only the beginning.

  By Wednesday, Adela had sent out the word that help was needed, and now the entire population of Mule Hollow was standing on Main Street ready to work.

  If people were coming, and it sounded like they were, then the ladies wanted them to stay. That meant Mule Hollow had to greet them with more than a sad sigh. It needed to grab their attention and invite them to put down roots from the moment they entered. The ladies and Lacy had decided it was time to put out the call and paint the entire town.

  Lacy was impressed. When Adela spoke, people listened. Every rancher and cowboy within twenty miles had to be standing in front of her holding a paintbrush. Why, every parking space along the street had a vehicle in it!

  And Clint was one of those who’d shown up.

  He’d come bright and early with a trail of black pickups following him. He had helped her organize the tables and cans of paint that Pete had sold them at rock-bottom prices. And now it was time to expose her plan and open the paint.

  “Now, all you boys don’t get disturbed when I start p
ulling off these lids.” Lacy looked around the crowd, a gleam in her eye then she pried the first lid off a can of canary-yellow paint. All the masculine faces went slack, but she still had them. Then she ripped off the lid of a can of deep raspberry, and they all took a step back.

  “Now, don’t go anywhere. I promise these colors will be perfect.” She could tell they didn’t believe her. Clint stood to the side of the group with his Stetson pulled low and his arms crossed over his chest. The hat cast a shadow over his eyes but she could see the half grin of his full lips. Encouraged, she popped the tops off a few more cans.

  “Miss Lacy, are we really supposed to paint these buildings those colors?” someone asked.

  “Yes, we are.” Lacy stood and slowly met each cowboy’s gaze, challenging them to believe. “I’m promising you this will work. This is going to be the happiest town in Texas. When people get within nine miles of this place, they’re going to see us on the horizon.”

  “That’s for sure,” someone else said, igniting laughter. Lacy smiled; she’d expected this.

  “Look at my building. I bet when I started painting it everyone didn’t think it would look as good as it does now.” No one said anything. “Okay,” she said, thinking, “in Texas, on a long flat stretch of road between Houston and Huntsville, there’s this section of road about nine miles long, and in honor of General Sam Houston, there stands a gigantic statue of him at the entrance of the state park. It has only been there for a few years, and before it was constructed, that long lane of highway was one boring drive.

  “For people traveling that stretch of road for the first time it seemed endless, especially if there were kids. Then someone got the idea of constructing this beautiful tribute there.” She had started moving among the guys as she talked. “He’s huge.” She waved her arms wide. Everyone was listening. “Now, when people come over that hill and hit that long, long stretch they see a white spot at the end of the road before it disappears around a bend. A white spot.” She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “I know, I know, what does a white spot change, you ask? Honestly, not much. But there is this spot and people are driving and they are squinting and they are saying, What is that? What is that? And as they drive, they become so engrossed in wondering what’s on the horizon, well, the miles just roll by.”

 

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