Falling For The Cowboy

Rowdy McDermott has a plan. Stay on the straight and narrow, help the foster boys on Sunrise Ranch and forget about love. The last thing he expects is his pretty new neighbor falling literally into his arms. Lucy Calvewrt is glad the handsome cowboy broke her fall, but isn’t ready for the feelings he’s stirring in her heart. She’s heard rumors about his past, and is steering clear from the kind of man he used to be. With a little help from his boys, can Rowdy show her that people—and hearts—can change?

Cowboys of Sunrise Ranch: These men have hearts as big as Texas.

“No need to thank me,” Rowdy said.

“You’re the one helping me. Saving me from the wrath of Nana is a good thing. If there is one thing she prides above all else, it’s that her boys are gentlemen. And I have to admit I have sometimes been her wayward grandson.”

Lucy smiled. “I’d hate for you to admit you’re helping me remodel my barn because you’re a nice guy.” And he might be. But that didn’t stop her from being wary...not so much of him, but of the way she reacted to him.

“Me a nice guy?” He looked skeptical, and a grin played across his face. “I don’t know about that.”

The man’s personality, like his eyes and his smile, sparkled and drew her in.

Just because she found a man attractive didn’t mean she was going to unlock her heart, trust him and eventually marry the man.

He was her neighbor being neighborly. End of story.

Right.

DEBRA CLOPTON

First published in 2005, Debra Clopton is an award-winning multipublished novelist who has won a Booksellers Best Award, an Inspirational Readers’ Choice Award, a Golden Quill, a Cataromance Reviewers’ Choice Award, RT Book Reviews Book of the Year and Harlequin.com’s Readers’ Choice Award. She was also a 2004 finalist for the prestigious RWA Golden Heart, a triple finalist for the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award and most recently a finalist for the 2011 Gayle Wilson Award for Excellence.

Married for twenty-two blessed years to her high school sweetheart, Debra was widowed in 2003. Happily, in 2008, a couple of friends played matchmaker and set her up on a blind date. Instantly hitting it off, they were married in 2010. They live in the country with her husband’s two high-school-age sons. Debra has two adult sons, a lovely daughter-in-law and a beautiful granddaughter—life is good! Her greatest awards are her family and spending time with them. You can reach Debra at P.O. Box 1125, Madisonville, TX 77864 or at debraclopton.com.

Her Unexpected Cowboy

Debra Clopton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Put your heart right, Job. Reach out to God.… Then face the world again, firm and courageous. Then all your troubles will fade from your memory, like floods that are past and remembered no more.

—Job 11:13, 15–16

This book is dedicated to all those making a new, fresh start with their lives. May God bless you

and keep you as you make a change in your life.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Rowdy McDermott closed the door of his truck and scanned the ranch house that had seen better days. Carrying the casserole he’d been sent to deliver, he strode toward the rambling, low-slung residence. He’d always liked this old place and the big weathered barn behind it—liked the rustic appearance of the buildings that seemed cut from the hillside sloping down on one side before sweeping wide in a sunny meadow. There was peace here in this valley, and it radiated from it like the glow of the sun bouncing off the distant stream cutting a path across the meadow.

This beautiful three-hundred-acre valley was connected to his family’s ranch. Rowdy had hoped one day to make this place his own, but the owner wouldn’t sell. Not even when he’d moved to a retirement home several years ago and Rowdy had made him a good offer. He’d told Rowdy he had plans for the place after he died.

Four days ago his “plan” had arrived in the form of the owner’s niece, so Rowdy’s grandmother had informed him, at the same time she’d volunteered him to be her delivery boy.

He knocked on the green front door, whose paint was peeling with age. Getting no answer, he strode to the back of the house, taking in the overgrown bushes and landscaping as he went. Years of neglect were visible everywhere.

A black Dodge Ram sat in the drive with an enclosed trailer hitched to the back of it. He’d just stepped onto the back porch when a loud banging sound came from the barn, followed by a crash and a high-pitched scream.

Rowdy set the dish on the steps and raced across the yard. The double doors of the barn were open and he skidded through them. A tiny woman clung to the edge of the loft about fifteen feet from the ground.

“Help,” she cried, as she lost her grip—

Rushing forward, Rowdy swooped low. “Gotcha,” he grunted, catching her just in the nick of time. He managed to stay on his feet as his momentum forced him to plunge forward.

They would have been okay if there hadn’t been an obstacle course’s worth of stuff scattered on the barn floor.

Rowdy leaped over cans of paint and dodged a wheelbarrow only to trip over a pitchfork— They went flying and landed with a thud on a pile of musty hay.

The woman in his arms landed on top of him, strands of her silky, honey-colored hair splayed across her face.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

She blinked at him through huge protective goggles, her pale blue eyes wide as she swept the hair away. A piece of hay perched on top of her head like a crown.

“You saved me,” she gasped, breathing hard. “I can’t believe it. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Rowdy said with a slow drawl, forcing a grin despite feeling as if he’d just lost a battle with a bronc. The fact that there was a female as cute as this one sitting on his chest numbed the pain substantially.

Those amazing blue eyes widened behind the goggles. “I’m sorry, what am I thinking sitting on you like this?” She scrambled off and knelt beside him. “Can you move? Let me help you up.” Without waiting for his reply, she grasped his arm, tugging on him. “That had to have hurt you.”

He sat up and rolled his shoulder. “Hitting the ground from the loft would have been a harder fall. What were you doing, anyway?”

Leaning back on her heels, she yanked off the goggles.

Whoa— Rowdy’s pulse kicked like a bull as he looked into her sparkling eyes.

“I was knocking a wall out with a sledgehammer. It was a splendid feeling—until the main beam gave way and I flew over the edge like a ninny.” A nice blush fanned across her cheeks. “Talk about feeling silly—that’ll sure do it. But I am so grateful you were here. For a short person like me, that was a long drop. And that you got to me so quick. How fast are you, anyway?”

She talked with the speed of light and Rowdy had a hard time keeping up. “Fast enough, but clearly not as fast as you talk.” He chuckled.

“Ha, it’s a curse! I do tend to rattle on when I’ve been saved from sure disaster.” She stood up—which wasn’t all that much farther from the ground.

Rowdy wasn’t real sure she was even five foot, and knew she wasn’t when he stood up and looked down at her. At only six feet himself, he towered over her by a good twelve inches...which would make hugging a little awkward, but hey, he could overcome.

“I’m Lucy Calvert.” She stared up at him and held out her hand.

Lucy. He liked it. Liked more the tingle of awareness that sparked the moment he took her small hand in his. When her eyes flared, as if she felt the same spark, his mind went blank.

“Rowdy. Rowdy McDermott, at your service,” he said as his pulse kicked up like a stampede of wild horses.

“Rowdy.” She slipped her hand free and tugged the edge of her collared shirt closed. Her smile faltered. “I think I may have heard my uncle mention you—I think he said your name fit you.”

The disapproval he detected in her voice snapped him out of his infatuated fog as regret of the life he’d led twisted inside his gut. What exactly had his old neighbor said about him?

“It fits, but in all honesty, I’m trying hard to mend my ways.”

“Oh.” Her blue eyes dug deep. “What were you here for before I literally threw myself at you?”

“Food,” he said, feeling off balance by the way she studied him. “My, um, my grandmother made you a casserole and I’m the delivery boy.”

“How sweet of her.” She laid her hand on his arm and his pulse kicked again. “And of you for bringing it over.”

Rowdy wasn’t sure he’d ever been called sweet. He looked down at her hand on his arm as that same buzz of electricity took his breath away. She turned, hips swaying and arms pumping as she headed toward the exit and left him in her dust.

“Tell her thank you for me,” she called over her shoulder, keeping her steps lively without looking back.

Rowdy followed.

“Can I ask what you were doing up there knocking out walls in your barn?”

They’d made it into the sunshine, and what had appeared to be her dark blond hair glistened like gold in the sun. She was getting better by the minute.

“I’m starting my remodel job. I’m making an art studio up there and a wall was in my way.”

“So you knocked it down. Do you do that with everything that gets in your way?” That got him the smile he was looking for. Trying to put her more at ease, he tucked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and assumed a relaxed stance, putting his weight on one leg.

“I like to hope I do.”

“Really?”

Her brows leveled over suddenly serious eyes. “Really. That happens to be my new life motto.”

“Sounds kind of drastic, don’t you think?”

“Nope. Sounds good to me. It felt quite pleasant actually—” she scowled “—until I flew over the edge of the loft.”

“The little woman has anger issues,” he teased.

“This little woman has a lot of anger issues.”

Rowdy knew a lot about anger issues, but would rather not discuss them. Trying to figure out a change-of-topic comeback, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Uh-oh,” he groaned, looking where he’d left the casserole. The oversize yellow cat had ripped through the foil and was face-first in the Cowboy Goulash. “Nana isn’t going to be happy about that.” Even so, Rowdy was grateful for the distraction from the conversation as Lucy raced toward the cat, arms waving.

He owed the hulking orange cat big-time.

* * *

“No!” Lucy yelled, tearing across the yard with the troubling cowboy on her heels. She was not happy with her reactions to the magnetic man. Not only had he saved her, he’d taken her breath away. And she didn’t like the air being sucked out of her. Nope. Not at all.

What was more, the fact that he—that any man— could do that to her was shocking.

“Bad kitty,” she admonished Moose when she reached him. The cat had adopted Lucy four days ago when she’d arrived. Now the moose of a cat—thus his name—looked up at her with a goulash-orange smile, then promptly buried his head in the noodles again. “Hey, how much can a hairy beast like you eat?” Lucy asked, pulling him away from the pan as his claws dug in, clinging to the wood.

“Shame on you. Shame, shame.” Lucy was so embarrassed. “Honest, I feed him. I really do.”

Rowdy chuckled. “In the cat’s defense, Nana’s food is pretty irresistible.”

Lucy’s gaze met his and her insides did that crazy thing they’d been doing since the moment she’d found herself in his arms.

“I would have loved to find that out for myself,” she snapped.

He gave a lazy, attractive grin. “Don’t worry, Nana will be coming by soon to invite you over for dinner. She figures you need to feel welcomed, but also she wants to introduce you to our wild bunch over at Sunrise Ranch. We can be a little overwhelming for some.”

His odd statement stirred her curiosity. “And how’s that?”

“So you don’t know. You’re living next door to a boys’ ranch.”

“A boys’ ranch—what do you mean exactly?” Envisioning a bunch of delinquents, Lucy felt her spirits plummet.

“No, no, I didn’t mean to make you worry. They’re good kids. We have a foster program of sorts. There are sixteen boys ranging from eight to eighteen who call our family ranch home. They’ve just had some hard knocks in their lives and we’re providing a stable place for them to grow up. Speaking of which, I need to run, they’re waiting on me.” Grinning, he started backing away. “No more flying, okay?”

Lucy laughed despite feeling off-kilter and uneasy. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, and then he was gone. The unease didn’t leave with him.

After the betrayal and nightmare she’d been through with her ex-husband, she was stunned by the buzz of attraction she’d felt toward her new neighbor.

Especially since he’d admitted being a reformed rowdy cowboy. Reformed—that alone was all the deterrent she needed to keep her distance. Fuzzy warm feelings or thoughts of cozying up to cute cowboys hadn’t crossed her mind. Even to feel attraction at all was startling to her. Then again, the man had swooped in and saved her from breaking her neck—maybe that explained away the attraction.

The thought had Lucy breathing a little easier. She’d come here to find the joy again. Joy in her life and in her painting: things she’d lost and desperately needed to find again. She was praying that God would help her and show her the way. What she wasn’t praying for was romance, relationships or attraction. She’d learned the hard way that there was no joy to be found there.

None at all. Nope, this ole girl was just fine on her own, swan diving out of the hayloft and all.

* * *

The day after he’d caught her falling out of the hayloft, Rowdy drove up Lucy’s driveway again as Toby Keith played on the radio. He had a ranch to run and horses that needed training, so what was he doing back here?

Making sure she wasn’t dangling from the roof. He chuckled as the thought flashed through his mind.

Stepping out of his truck, he looked up at the eaves just to make sure she wasn’t doing just that.

All clear; nothing but a rooster weather vane creaking in the breeze.

Looking around, the first thing he noticed was a large pile of barn wood a few yards from the barn. It was after five and, by the looks of the pile, she’d been busy.

He had work to do, but he hadn’t been able to get his new neighbor off his mind. True, he couldn’t get those pretty eyes out of his head or that cute figure he sensed beneath that oversize shirt she’d been wearing, but mostly he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her over here ripping her property apart all by herself.

He shouldn’t have left the day before without offering to help, and that he’d done just that had bugged him all night. He’d been taught better by his nana; buying the property for himself had vanished with Lucy showing up. And though he hated that, he didn’t hold it against his new neighbor— Well, maybe a bit. But that shouldn’t have stopped him from helping her.

He was headed toward the barn when Lucy came out of the back door carrying an armload of Sheetrock pieces. She wore her protective goggles again and another long-sleeved work shirt. Her jeans were tucked into a pair of low-heeled brown boots. How could a woman look that good in that get-up? He must be losing his mind.

Tucking a thumb in his waistband, he gave her a skeptical look. “So I’m thinkin’ you have something against walls.”

“Yup.” She chuckled as she strode past him to toss the load in her arms on the pile with the other discards. “I like open space. Don’t you?”

“Yeah, but you do know a house has to have some walls inside it to hold the roof up?”

She paused. “I’ve left a few.”

“But have you left the right ones? Maybe you should hire some help. I know some contractors who could do this for you. Safely.”

She stared at him for a moment, a wrinkle forming above her goggles. It suddenly hit him that she didn’t look like she was in a good mood.

“Did you have a reason for stopping by?”

So he was right. “I just dropped by to check on you. Make sure you weren’t dangling from high places.”

The crease above her goggles deepened. “Actually, I’ve managed a whole day without mishap. Of course, there was a tense moment when I climbed up on the roof and lost my balance walking the peak.”

His blood pressure spiked even as he recognized she was teasing him—so maybe she wasn’t in a bad mood after all. “I’m glad you’re teasing me.”

“Had you there for a moment, though.”

“Yes, you did.”

She smiled sweetly. “The thing is, Rowdy, I just met you yesterday, and while I am very grateful that you saved my neck, I really don’t know you. And that being the case... Well, you get what I’m saying?”

Get out of my business. Okay, so maybe she was in a bad mood—twinkling eyes and all. He was losing his touch reading women. That was an understatement. He hadn’t read Liz right at all. Not until her husband had shown up and punched him in the nose had he suspected he’d gotten involved with a married woman. His stomach soured just thinking about it.

Looking at Lucy, he held his hands up. “You are absolutely right.” He planned to leave it at that, get in his truck and hit the road; after all, it wasn’t any of his business. The problem: Rowdy was known for not always doing what he was supposed to do. He’d suffered from the ailment all of his life.

“But you don’t know what you’re doing.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could edit them.

Lucy’s eyes flashed fire his way before she spun on her boot heels and strode back into the house, leaving him standing just off the porch.

Clearly the woman did not want to hear what he had to say. Any man with good sense would get in his truck and head home to tend to his own business. There was sure no shortage of it and that work was what he’d promised himself and the Lord he was going to do for the next year.

But what did he do?

He followed her. That’s what.

Right through her back door and in the direction of a sledgehammer beating the stuffing out of a hunk of wood somewhere inside the house.

All the while telling himself he needed to mind his own business. He had a well-thought-out plan for his life—he was done jumping off into relationships impulsively. He’d given himself at least a year to be completely single. He’d made the deal with the Lord—no attachments—and he’d almost made it.

So what are you doing?

Chapter Two

Leave it to her to get a nosy, arrogant cowboy for a neighbor!

What was his problem? Who was he to come here and question her intelligence? Did he really think she’d be stupid enough to knock out the walls that held her house together?

Lucy swung the sledgehammer and took unusual pleasure when it hit the two-by-four stud exactly where she’d aimed—where it connected to the wood on the bottom of the frame.

She’d been startled to walk outside and find him standing there looking all masculine and intriguing... Why did she keep thinking of him like that? Since the fire—since Tim’s betrayal—she’d been around men, some even more handsome than Rowdy McDermott. But she’d not given them a second thought, other than to acknowledge that she was done with men. When a woman learned she’d been married to the poster boy for extramarital affairs, those scars weren’t easy to heal.

Why, then, had she thought about her new neighbor off and on ever since he’d left the day before?

Maddeningly, he’d been the last thought she’d had going to bed and the first upon waking. Swearing off men had suited her. She swung the sledgehammer again, feeling the point of impact with a deep satisfaction. God forgive her, but she knew visualizing Tim every time she swung was not a good thing. Yet it was the best satisfaction she’d had since that woman had walked into her hospital room and exposed the lie Lucy’s life had been.

Lucy swung again, harder this time. Her hands hurt with the jarring impact as the hammerhead met the solid stud.

No. She did not appreciate the cowboy showing up and causing her to realize just how much she longed to be able to trust someone. And why was it exactly that Rowdy McDermott had her thinking about trust?

She would never trust a man again.

“Well, I guess that answers my question.”

Lucy jumped, so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Rowdy come into the room.

The humor in his voice was unmistakable.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped. She hadn’t really expected walking away from him would make him leave. So it really didn’t surprise her that he’d followed her inside. After all, he had already proved he was nosy.

“You don’t like walls. And you need help.”

Of all the nerve. “If you must know, I planned to hire help.” She yanked off her protective eyewear with one hand and set the sledgehammer against the wall—getting the thing out of her hand might be the smartest thing. “And again, if you must know, I was enjoying myself too much to do it.”

He’d stopped smiling at her angry outburst, looking a little shocked. Now that infuriatingly cocky grin spread again across his features, like a man who knows he’s charming.

Well, he wasn’t to her.

“Stop that,” she blurted out. His grin deepened and his eyes crinkled at the edges. He was fighting off laughter—at her!

“So you’re angry with someone, and knocking out walls satisfies a need inside of you. I get it now. For a little thing, you really do have a lot of anger issues.”

Her jaw dropped and she gasped. “Of all the—”

“How about if I help you out?”

“Do what?” The man had pegged her motives somewhat correctly at first guess. Yet if he only knew of the anger issues buried so far back inside her, he would not be grinning at her like that.

“Hire me—I’m cheap and will work just to watch the fireworks. You put on one entertainingly explosive show.”

“This is outrageous,” she huffed. Crossing her arms, she shot daggers at him—he’d think explosive. “I bet you don’t get many dates, do you?”

He chuckled deep in his chest and her insides curled like a kitten in response. “We aren’t talking about my love life. We’re talking about me helping you out.”

Lucy could not get her foot out of her mouth. She should never have mentioned anything to do with dating. Talk about getting into someone’s business!

“Well,” she faltered, still stuck on that chuckle.

“Look, like I said yesterday,” Rowdy continued, “my nana is going to have you over to dinner next week and if she finds out you need help and I didn’t do the neighborly thing and help you, believe me, it won’t be pretty. So help a fella out and put me to work.”

Despite everything, Lucy found herself wanting to smile. But the past reared its ugly face—this was so like Tim.

How many times had he cajoled her into doing something he wanted? Too many. The fist of mistrust knotted beneath her ribs.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, having meant to tell him no. She repositioned her goggles.

He frowned. “Fine. I’ll let you get back to your work, then.”

Irritation had his shoulders stiff as she watched him leave. She almost called out to him, but didn’t. She’d given in to Tim too many times in her life. Why did men believe women were supposed to just stop thinking for themselves whenever they were in the picture?

Lucy wasn’t going down that road again. The screen door slammed in the other room, and a few seconds later she heard his truck’s engine rumble to life. Drawn to the window, she watched him back out onto the hardtop. But he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he sat with his arm hooked over the steering wheel, staring at the house. Though he couldn’t see her, she felt as if he were looking straight at her.

She stepped back and he drove off. Her heart thumped erratically as she watched him disappear in the distance.

It’s better this way.

It certainly was.

Then why did she suddenly feel so lonely she could scream?

* * *

“Women,” Rowdy growled, driving away. “They drive me crazy.” She could just knock her whole house down for all he cared. He had things to do and places to be and being the Good Samaritan was obviously not his calling. It was his own fault—he should have minded his stinkin’ business.

After only a short drive down the blacktop road, he turned onto the ranch, spinning gravel as he drove beneath the thick log entrance with the Sunrise Ranch logo overhead.

Dust flying behind him, he sped toward the ranch house in the distance, its roof peeking up over the hill that hid the majority of the ranch compound from the road.

The compound of Sunset Ranch had been divided into sections. The first section was the main house, the ranch office and the Chow Hall, where his grandmother, Ruby Ann “Nana” McDermott, ruled the roost. For sixteen boys ranging in age from eight to eighteen the Chow Hall was the heart of the ranch. But Nana was actually the heart.

Across the gravel parking area, the hundred-year-old horse stable stretched out. Most every horse he’d ever trained had been born in the red, wooden building since the day his grandfather had bought the place years ago. Beside the horse stable stood the silver metal barn and the large corral and riding pens. Making up the last section was the three-room private school the ranch provided for the kids. It sat out from the rest of the compound, within easy walking distance, to give the kids space from school life. This was home.

Rowdy pulled the truck to a stop beside the barn. He slammed the door with the rest of the disgust he was feeling just as his brother Morgan walked out of the barn.

“What bee’s in your bonnet?” Morgan asked.

Rowdy scowled. “Funny.”

“Obviously something is wrong.”

All the McDermott brothers were dark headed, square chinned and sported the McDermott navy eyes, but Morgan was the brother who most resembled their dad—steadfast. Respectable.

Rowdy had always lived up to his more reckless looks—good-time Rowdy. That had been him. But he’d turned a corner and was trying hard to be more than a “good time.” And that misconception irritated him the most about Lucy turning down his offer to help. It was almost as if she saw his past and chose to bypass trouble. As if she’d decided in that moment she couldn’t trust him.

The thought pricked. Stung like a wasp, to be honest.

If she couldn’t trust the man who caught her swan diving off the hayloft, then who could she trust?

And why did he care?

Morgan crossed his arms and studied him. “Nana tells me you met our new neighbor yesterday. Does this have something to do with her?”

“No. Maybe. Yeah.”

“So what did you do?”

“I saved her from breaking her neck falling out of her hayloft, Morg. And I offered to help her do a little remodeling.”

“I see. So that’d mean she must be good-looking.”

“Yeah, she is,” he growled.

“Then why are you so agitated? She’s single, from what Nana said.”

“She turned me down.”

Morgan blinked in disbelief. “Turned you down. You?”

It was embarrassing in more ways than one.

“I don’t think that’s ever happened before.” Morgan started grinning. “And did you actually save her from falling out of the hayloft?”

“Stop enjoying this so much, and yes, I did, and it’s not like I asked her out.” He knew Morgan was just giving him a hard time. That was what brothers did. He’d never missed an opportunity where Morgan and Tucker were concerned. So much so that he was due a lot of payback from both brothers. He gave a quick rundown of catching Lucy the day before. Morgan’s grin spread as wide as Texas.

“So you really didn’t ask her out?”

“Are you kidding? No.”

Morgan cocked his head to the side, leveling disbelieving eyes on him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? I’m not saying I’m not going to. But my days of rushing into relationships are done. I told you that.”

“Yeah you did, but it’s been over nine months.”

Rowdy wanted on a horse. Needed to expel the restless energy that suddenly filled him. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was done with women for at least a year. I’m trying to be a role model for the guys.”

It was true. Rowdy might not have known he’d gotten involved with a married woman, but then he hadn’t really asked enough questions, and he sure hadn’t been any kind of role model. After this last fiasco, God had convinced him that he needed to change his life.

“You’re doing it, too. What you need is to find a woman like Jolie, who has her priorities straight,” Morgan added.

“True, but I’m not ready right now. And besides, if Lucy won’t let me help knock out some walls, she’s most definitely not going to say yes to dinner and a movie.”

“True,” Morgan agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Speaking of dates, Tucker’s here helping out with practice because I’ve got a date. And Jolie is a whole lot prettier than you.”

“Tell that beautiful lady of yours I said hello,” he called, then headed into the stable. He breathed in and the scents of fresh hay and leather filled him. Horses nickered as he passed by.

He grabbed a saddle and entered the stall of the black quarter horse he was working with. He spoke gently to Maverick as he saddled him. Just the motions of preparing to ride calmed him and helped him think.

Lucy said she had anger issues. It didn’t fit, but she’d said it. He hadn’t seen anger, though. When their eyes locked, he saw fireworks. And there lay the problem.

He had a fondness for fireworks—even though the fondness had gotten him into more trouble than he needed. Thus the reason he was trying to mend his ways.

Fireworks burned—he’d learned that the hard way.

Leading Maverick out of the stable, he headed toward the corral and the sound of whoops of laughter. His behavior hadn’t been anything to be proud of and certainly nothing for these boys to look up to. Rowdy was changing that. No one had said it would be easy.

And living his lifestyle down was going to be the hardest of all, he suspected. The boys’ laughter rose on the breeze out in the arena as he approached. This was what he needed to concentrate on. These boys and the ranch.

“What’s up, Rowdy? Thought you’d skipped out on us.” Eighteen years old, Wes gave him his wolfish smile as he rode his horse over to the arena fence.

“Nope, just running late.” Rowdy hooked his arms on the top rail and surveyed the action. “Did I miss much?”

“There was a runaway wagon a few minutes ago when Caleb lost his grip on the reins and the horses took over.” Wes chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He was one of the natural leaders of the group. Stocky and blond, he always looked as though he was ready to have a good time. Too good. He had a recklessness about him that reminded Rowdy of himself. All the more reason for Rowdy to make a good impression on the teen.

Rowdy had a suspicion Wes had been sneaking around riding bulls behind everyone’s back. Bulls were the one rodeo event that was off-limits for the ranch kids to participate in. And purely Rowdy’s fault from when he’d been a teen. Because of his many close calls with bull riding, his dad had set the rule—no bull riding at Sunrise Ranch.

“By the glint in your eyes, I’m assuming it was pretty entertaining.”

“It was awesome.” Wes hooted. “I never knew your brother could ride like that. Tucker did some pony tricks getting the horses to stop.”

The sheriff of Dew Drop, Tucker didn’t spend as much time on the ranch with the boys as Rowdy, Morgan and their dad, Randolph. But when it came to riding, Tucker could hold his own.

“I’m glad Caleb was okay.” He glanced out into the arena and saw Tucker talking to a group of the younger kids.

“He’s fine. Didn’t even shake him up.” Wes spit a sunflower seed in the dirt and continued grinning.

Rowdy suddenly had an idea. It might not be a good idea, but that was yet to be seen. “Wes, I need you and Joseph to help me with something in the morning. Can you do it?”

“Sure thing. What are we going to do?”

More than likely make Lucy madder than a hornet. “We’re going to do a little yard work and y’all can make a little pocket change.”

“Sweet. When do we start?”

“Sunup.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” A group of the boys over by the chutes called for Wes. “Showtime. I’ll tell Joseph.” Giving his horse a nudge, they raced off at a thundering gallop.

Rowdy watched him and the horse fly across the arena as one. When it came to riding, Wes was the best. He was a natural. Rowdy had a feeling the kid would ride a bull just as well. Though it was against the rules, Rowdy hesitated to say anything until he knew for certain. Wes was courting trouble...but then so was Rowdy if he went through with his plan in the morning.

What was he thinking, anyway?

The woman didn’t want his help. She needed it, though, and for reasons he didn’t quite understand he felt compelled to follow through—despite knowing he needed to steer clear of her.

He had a feeling he was about to see some major fireworks tomorrow...but he’d rather take that chance than do nothing at all.

Chapter Three

The morning light was just crawling across her bedroom floor when Lucy opened her eyes. She’d been dead to the world from the moment she’d fallen into bed late last night, and she stared at the ceiling for a moment, disoriented.

The ache in her arms brought clarity quickly.

And no wonder with all the manual labor she’d been doing for the past week. The muscle soreness had finally caught up with her last night. Caught up with her back, too. She’d always had a weak lower back and sometimes after a lot of stooping and heavy lifting, it rebelled on her. That moment had happened when she’d taken her last swing at the long wall in her living room—a muscle spasm had struck her like a sledgehammer.

It had been so painful she’d been forced to stretch out on the floor and stare at the ceiling until it had eased up enough for her to make it upstairs to bed.

She’d had plenty of time to contemplate her situation and the fact that she really had no timeline to finish her remodel. She could take all the time in the world if she wanted to. Uncle Harvey, bless his soul, had made sure of that.

He was actually her grandfather’s brother, whom she’d lost as a young girl. He had been in bad health when her world had fallen apart, and hadn’t lived on the ranch for a couple of years. But he’d told her this was where she needed be. And he’d been right. She’d known it the moment she’d arrived. She was making the place her own and searching for her new footing at the same time.

And yet, things had changed when Rowdy McDermott had offered to help her. She watched him drive off, and her conscience had plucked away at her.

To prove that she’d made the right decision turning him away, she’d gone at her work with extra zeal...but the pleasure she’d felt had disappeared. Drat the man—he’d messed up her process.

He’d had no right trying to take over her work. He was only being a good neighbor. The voice of reason she’d been steadily ignoring yesterday was louder this morning. Had she judged him wrong? She didn’t like this distrust that ruled her life these days.

Sitting up, she had no control of the groan that escaped her grimacing lips. “Hot shower, really hot shower.” She eased off the bed and walked stiffly toward the bathroom.

She’d wash the cobwebs out of her mind, the dust out of her hair and the pain out of her muscles. Then maybe she could figure out what she needed to do about the problems her good-looking neighbor was causing her.

She’d told him she would think about his offer. But did she really want him here? And he’d already shown that he thought his way was the best way. Did she want to fight that? Because she wasn’t giving up control of anything.

The niggling admission that she might be in over her head and needed help on this simmered in her thoughts. The realization that she was allowing distrust of men—all men—color her need for real help bothered her.

Shower, now! She needed a clear head to sort this out.

Twenty minutes later, feeling better, she padded down to the kitchen. The shower had helped her spirits, but she knew that today her back was going to give her fits if she did anything too strenuous. It needed a break. Her mind needed a break, too. She couldn’t shut it off....

When a gal wasn’t quite five feet tall, she grew used to people assuming she was helpless because of her size. Too weak to swing a sledgehammer.

It was maddening. More so now—since her husband’s betrayal had left her feeling so pathetically blind and weak-minded.

Too weak to realize my husband was cheating on me.

The humiliating thought slipped into her head like the goad of an enemy. Not the best way to start her day. She was going to miss not knocking out a wall—and the satisfaction it gave her.

People’s lack of faith always made her all the more determined to do whatever it was they assumed she couldn’t do.

Glancing down at her wrists, she could see the puckered skin peeking out from the edge of her long-sleeved T-shirt. She knew those scars looked twisted and savage as they covered her arm and much of her body beneath her clothing. The puckered burn scars on her neck itched, reminding her how close she’d come to having her face disfigured...reminding her of her blessings amid the tragedy that had become her life two years ago.

She hadn’t felt blessed then, when she’d nearly died in the fire that had killed her husband.

And learned the truth she hadn’t seen before.

Reaching for the coffeepot, her fingers trembled. There had been days during the year she’d spent in the burn center that she’d wished she hadn’t survived. But it was the internal scars from Tim’s betrayal that were the worst.

Those scars weren’t as easy to heal. But they made knocking walls out a piece of cake. She’d just overdone it. Easy to do when there was enough anger inside her 105-pound frame to knock walls down for years.

Each swing made her feel stronger. She might have lost control of her life two years ago, but thanks to her dear uncle thinking about her in his will, she was here in Dew Drop, Texas, determined to regain control.

On her terms.

And knocking out walls was just the beginning. Just as Uncle Harvey had intended. He’d recognized that she was struggling emotionally and floundering to find meaning in it all after finally being released from the hospital.

Walking to the sink, she flipped on the cold water and looked out the window as she stuck the pot under the spray. Two young men were carrying fallen tree branches to her burn pile!

Lucy jumped at the unexpected sight and sloshed water on herself. Setting the pot down, she grabbed a dishrag and wiped her hands as she headed for the door. What is going on?

She stormed out onto her back porch and caught her breath when Rowdy stepped around the corner.

“You,” she gasped. “I should have known. What is going on here?” This was what she was talking about—control. “Just because you saved me doesn’t give you the right to just disregard my wishes—”

“Look, I knew you needed help. I just brought the fellas over to pick up a few limbs for you.”

Teens, not men, watching them from the burn pile, clearly uncertain whether to come near or not. They could probably see steam shooting out of her ears.

“They’ve cleaned up a lot. We’ve been at it since about six.”

“Six!” It was eight-thirty now. How had she not heard them?

“We tried to be quiet so we wouldn’t wake you.”

Her mouth fell open. What did he think he was doing?

“You were quiet because you didn’t want me to know you were here.”

His eyes flashed briefly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You just can’t take no for an answer.”

He stared at her, his jaw tensed, and a sense of guilt overcame her. Guilt. He was the one who should be guilty.

Right?

She was glaring at him when his gaze drifted to her neck and it was only then that she realized she hadn’t pulled on her work shirt yet over her long-sleeved T-shirt.

He was staring at the scar. It licked up from the back of her neck, out from the protection of her hair, and curled around, stopping jaggedly just below her jawline.

“You’ve been burned.” There was shock in his voice.

“Yes.” Turning, she went back into the house to get the work shirt draped over the kitchen chair. Her hands shook as she slipped it on. Rowdy barreled inside behind her.

“Lucy, I’m sorry we startled you like we did. You have every right to be angry.”

Angry? She could barely think, she was so embarrassed. Striding to the living room, she grabbed for her sledgehammer, and without putting on her goggles she took a swing at the wall. Her back and shoulders lashed out at her, forcing her to set the hammer down immediately. She was being ridiculous and she knew it. Why was she so afraid to let Rowdy help her?

The man was obstinate, that was why. Arrogant even, by showing up here to work anyway.

“I’m sorry about that burn. It looks like it must have been terribly painful.”

She met his gaze and gave him a quick nod. Her scars were something she didn’t talk about. Especially the ones on the inside. “It’s fine now,” she said bluntly. She hoped he’d take the hint and not continue this line of talk.

“Look—” he shifted from boot to boot and scrubbed the back of his neck in a show of frustration “—you need help and you know it. You said yesterday that you would think about it. I was just trying to let you see that the guys were good kids and hard workers. They could whip this yard into shape for you in no time. And they’ll do it for free. C’mon, give them a chance. Give me a chance.”

As aggravating as it was to admit—the man had charm. And there was no way to deny that she needed help. She couldn’t go through life shunning all men. That was unrealistic. The fact he’d seen a portion of her scars ate into her confidence, and that was maddening. It did not matter what the cowboy thought of her.

It didn’t.

“Why not?” she heard herself saying. “It looks like you’re going to be over here every day bothering me anyway. But just for a few days. And I’ll pay you.” Lucy! What are you doing?

A slow smile spread across his face. “There you go. That wasn’t so hard after all, was it?” he said, reaching for her sledgehammer. “No pay needed for me, but if you want to pay the boys, that’s fine. I was going to pay them for today myself.”

“I’ll pay them for today.”

“No, I said I would—”

“Look, Rowdy,” Lucy said, in her sternest voice. “If they are going to be over here, then I’m paying them. It’s either that or this deal is off.” They stared at each other and she got the distinct impression that he didn’t “get” her in the same way that she didn’t get him. But she was taking back control of this situation, or she wasn’t having any part of it.

“Okay, have it your way.”

“Good.”

“All righty, then, stand back,” he warned.

Lucy felt her body automatically obey, and watched him swing the heavy sledgehammer as if it was a plastic toy. The muscles in his forearms strained with the strength he put behind the swing. The hammer met the same spot her swing had barely dented and instantly the wood cracked beneath it.

She brought her hand up and touched the base of her throat where her heartbeat raced.

After three more swings along the base of the studded wall, it broke free. It would have taken her all day to do that!

“I see what attracts you to this.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a teasing light in his eyes. “I kinda like it myself.”

“Yeah, it does kill a bad mood, doesn’t it?”

He laughed at that and they stared at each other. Tension radiated between them.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Thank you for helping me. I did need it.”

“No need to thank me.” His smile widened. “You’re the one helping me. Saving me from the wrath of Nana is a good thing. If there is one thing she prides above all else, it’s that her boys are gentlemen. And I have to admit I have sometimes been her wayward child.”

“Say it ain’t so,” Lucy mocked.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna make points when she finds out about this. So I guess that means I’m still the wayward child, since I’m really doing this for myself. Does that make you feel any better about letting me swing away?”

“Much better. I’d hate for you to actually admit that you’re doing it because you’re a nice guy.” And he might be, even if he was a little nosy. But that didn’t stop her from being wary...not so much of him, but of the way she reacted to him.

“Me, a nice guy.” He looked skeptical, and that grin played across his face. “I don’t know about that.”

The man’s personality sparkled and drew her like his eyes and his smile, stunning her once again.

Had she truly thought she was going to go the rest of her life not finding a man attractive?

Of course not.

That her neighbor just happened to have qualities that, regrettably, reminded her that she was still a woman, meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.

* * *

She was still telling herself that when Ruby Ann McDermott, Rowdy’s grandmother, showed up at her house midmorning bearing welcome-to-Dew-Drop gifts: a basket loaded with homemade fig and strawberry preserves and green tomato relish, along with several small loaves of banana-nut bread to freeze and take out as needed, she informed Lucy.

Ruby Ann had long silver hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong features like Rowdy, along with those deep blue eyes the color of a twilight sky. She held her tall frame ramrod straight, with an elegance about the way she moved.

Two friends came along with her. The first of them, Ms. Jo, owned the Spotted Cow Café in town. Lucy had met her the day she’d first arrived. She’d had supper at the cute café after spending the day unpacking. Ms. Jo’s piercing hazel eyes seemed to take everything in from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. She wore her slate-gray hair in a soft cap of curls. Lucy felt a kindred spirit, not just from the fact that they were close to the same height. She liked the older lady’s spunk and hoped her own personality would be similar when she was nearing seventy.

Ms. Jo brought along a coconut pie that looked so mouthwateringly delicious Lucy could barely keep from diving in the instant Ms. Jo placed it in her hands.

Mabel Tilsbee, the other member of the welcoming committee, owned the Dew Drop Inn. The towering, large-boned woman with shoulder-length black hair spiced with just a few strands of gray handed over a tray of cookies that were clearly overdone. “There’s no need in me even pretending to be the best in the kitchen when the county’s best are both standing here beside me. I gave it a whirl, though.” She winked. “I got distracted and baked these a little too long. But, if you like coffee, they’re real good dunkers.”

Lucy laughed and felt instantly at home with these ladies. “Thank you all so much for coming by,” she said, leading them into the kitchen. They eyed where a wall had obviously just been knocked out.

Ruby Ann’s hand fluttered at the construction area. “Rowdy told me at breakfast this morning that he helped you do this. And that he and some of the boys will be helping you out for a little while.”

“Yes, ma’am, he did.” It was all Lucy could do not to smile at the thought of Rowdy’s brownie points. She decided to help him out. “He’s doing a great job. I worked almost two days knocking a wall out of the hayloft and half the morning just getting this wall to budge. He had it down within an hour. It was quite humiliating.”

That got a chuckle from everyone.

“All my boys are strong and know how to work,” Ruby Ann said.

“That’s the truth.” Ms. Jo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Handsome, too, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, he is.” She couldn’t deny the obvious. “I was just about to have a coffee break when y’all drove up. Please join me. I suddenly have lots of great food to choose from.”

“You know, hon—” Mabel gave her a nudge with her elbow “—that’s a great idea. I’ll slice the pie.”

Lucy headed for the cups. This move was getting better by the day.

Mabel took the knife she handed her and sliced the pie and one of the loaves of banana-nut bread, instantly filling Lucy’s kitchen with mouthwatering aromas.

She filled four mugs with coffee and in a matter of minutes they were all gathered around her kitchen table laughing and talking between bites.

An hour later, with an official invitation to dinner the next evening, she waved goodbye and was smiling as she watched her new friends drive away.

Her mother called this Nowhere, U.S.A., but to Lucy, this small town felt like home.

Turning back, she surveyed the low-slung ranch house. Three days ago, overgrown shrubs had threatened to obscure it, and one of the shutters had needed to be straightened. Not so since Wes, Joseph and Rowdy had stepped in.

Ever since she’d awakened in the hospital to discover the truth about her life, she’d been adrift and searching for something. Only her faith that God was beside her had gotten her through. And her God-given stubbornness.

From his perch on the porch railing, Moose purred, and even that from the ornery tomcat felt like a welcome—after all, he’d picked her.

“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 young.”

“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.

It wasn’t long before they were all helping carry the large platters of food to the huge table in the dining area. There were so many of them that card tables had been set up to help accommodate them all.

While they were setting the table, Rowdy’s brother Tucker showed up. Introductions were made and she knew before they told her that he had been in the Special Forces. There was just something about the way he carried himself. He still wore a very close-cropped haircut she could see when he removed his Stetson and hung it on the hat rack. Rowdy’s hair was more touchable, run-your-fingers-through-it type. Where both Morgan and Tucker had serious edges to their expressions, Rowdy’s was more open, and—she searched for the right word—light was all that came to mind. Rowdy’s eyes twinkled as he wrestled on the couch with B.J. and Sammy. His infectious laughter had Lucy wanting to join in.

She brought her thoughts up short, realizing that she was comparing Rowdy’s attributes with his brothers’. She had no reason to do that.

No reason and no want to.

Frustrated by her thoughts, Lucy marched back to the kitchen in search of a plate of food to carry. She needed something constructive to do. What was wrong with her, anyway?

Chapter Five

Dinner was a loud affair. But with that many boys crammed beneath one roof, it was to be expected. Rowdy enjoyed watching Lucy’s reactions to the wild bunch. She handled herself pretty well for a newcomer. Then again, how he was handling himself was the question, as he found himself sitting next to her.

He could tell Nana had her eagle eyes trained on them and wondered if she sensed the undercurrent.

He tried to hide his acute interest in Lucy. After all, he’d sworn off women for a while. And she was sorely putting that commitment to the test. What was that verse that kept popping into his mind—“Test me, oh Lord, and try me.” The Lord was doing a bang-up good job of it, and that was for certain. When he got home he was going to find out what the rest of the verse was so he could figure out a nice way to tell the Lord He could lay off. Lucy sitting next to him, at a crowded table, their elbows practically rubbing together, and smelling of something fresh and sweet— Refusing temptation had never been his strong point. He had always gotten low marks.

His dad said the blessing, having come in just before the meal was ready, and Rowdy talked to the Lord and expressed his concerns. When he opened his eyes and glanced to his left, Lucy was looking at him—and for a second he got the feeling she’d been talking to the Lord just as fervently as he had about being forced to sit with him.

* * *

“You’re an artist,” Randolph said, after he finished blessing the food. It was more a statement than a question. “And you’re tearing out and making a studio. How’s that going?”

Rowdy had the feeling she’d been trying hard not to look at him up to this point.

“I’m getting all the ripping out done first before I start the rebuilding, though.”

“Hopefully she’s gonna leave some walls, but it sure is fun knocking them out,” Wes called from his seat at the card table with Joseph and Tony.

“I’m leaving the major walls,” she chuckled, and the sound had him fighting not to lean in closer to her.

“What do you paint?” Caleb asked, his big blue eyes full of curiosity.

“Well, I paint whatever catches my eye—people, flowers, whatever. But I’m known for roads and landscapes.”

“You paint those yellow lines on the roads?” B.J. asked excitedly, and Rowdy was pretty certain the little kid thought that would be the greatest job in the world. Eight-year-olds saw the world in their own way.

“Not exactly. You see, I paint a road in a landscape.” When it was clear he didn’t understand, she added, “You know the gravel road that cuts through the pasture at the entrance of the ranch? Well, I’d paint something like that, when the bluebonnets are in bloom. Or the doves lined up on the telephone lines.”

His brows crinkled up and Rowdy had to hide a chuckle.

“Why would you want to paint a road like that?”

She smiled, making Rowdy want to smile, too, because he was enjoying listening to her.

“Because I’m infatuated with them. I love roads and love pictures of roads that make people want to know where the road leads.”

“But we know the one in the pasture leads here to the ranch,” Sammy interjected, sitting up in his chair.

“But the first time you came here, did you know what was just over the hill? I mean, you could see the roof of this house, but didn’t you wonder what the rest was going to look like? Weren’t you curious what you would see once the car reached the top of the hill? Wasn’t there a sense of wonder?”

“Yeah,” Wes said, his voice trailing low. “I was hoping there would be a horse and, sure enough, there was one tied to the arena saddled and ready when the social worker stopped the car. It was awesome.”

Lucy placed her elbows on the table and leaned closer. “Yes. That’s what I love about a picture of a road—it lets the person viewing it dream their own story. Everyone who looks at a picture of a road sees and feels something different.”

Rowdy got it, and his curiosity was ramped up to view her paintings. He liked the way her mind worked.

“I was hoping I’d find a place where I wouldn’t be sent away.” Tony’s words rang through the silent room.

“And you found that, didn’t you?”

His expression eased. “I found my family.”

“And we are so glad you did.” Nana said what everyone else was thinking.

“I think it would be neat to paint a picture,” Sammy said. “Can we see some of yours sometime?”

“Sure. I’d love to show you when I get some unpacked. I don’t really have much, though. What I’ve painted recently is at the galleries. But I’ve got to get busy because they are waiting on me to turn new work in. There’s an important show coming up and I need something in it.”

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