Her Forever Cowboy (9 page)

Unwanted, the idea of her dating sat in his gut like a sour lump of milk. He shifted his weight from one boot to the other and frowned. The doc might be planning to date, but she was keeping
their
relationship on a business level. He raked both hands through his hair as he stared up at the sky.

Bone-deep loneliness settled into him. He'd coped with the loneliness over the years by focusing his energies on his work. Things had been fine. Thoughts of Lori had driven away any desire to look for female companionship. He was young—his buddies hadn't been able to understand how he “stayed out of the game” as they'd called it. But it had been easier than they could ever know.

Ask her out again.
There they were again: the words that had driven him from his bed. They rumbled through his thoughts and his lonely heart ached.

“S
o what do you think about this color?” Lacy asked on Saturday morning as she stepped back from the wall she'd just painted green. Holding her paintbrush in one hand she propped it on her jutting hip while she waved her other pink-tipped hand toward the wall. “It looks like green apples to me. Not that I don't
love
me some green apples, but this is a small room. As weird as it is for me to admit it, all this loudness might run you crazy.”

She was right—but Susan was so shocked to hear that
Lacy
was actually thinking the bright color was too much. Lacy never backed down from color—why, her hair salon was pinker than her fingernails! The woman had talked a bunch of down-home cowboys into painting Mule Hollow every color God had ever created. But now, standing here in the tiny living room of what was about to become Susan's home, the irrepressible blonde bombshell was questioning the brightness of a relatively mild color. It was a bit confusing—kind of like Susan's
life in general right now…with work, moving and Cole. Thoughts of the man had complicated her life all week—but she wasn't dwelling on that today.

“Are you sure you feel all right?” she asked, focusing on what was going on right now.

“Yeah,” Molly Jacobs gasped through the open window of the porch. She was confined to outdoors painting because she was pregnant. Mule Hollow was having a run on pregnant women. Several were expecting and many were thinking about it. Before long the population was going to explode. That would make the matchmakers happy, since it would mean their original idea to bring women to town to marry the lonesome cowboys was an all-star success.

Molly was the local syndicated newspaper reporter who'd been here from almost the moment Lacy and her friend Sheri had driven into town in Lacy's 1958 pink Cadillac convertible. The matchmakers had the original dream and Lacy had come to town, bringing spunk and momentum to the plan.

But Molly had taken the plan to the next level when she'd joined in on the campaign. She'd come to town to do an article for her Houston newspaper about the wacky little town. She'd ended up staying on and creating a weekly column that people across the nation had begun to follow. The exposure still brought women to the tiny growing town.

The story fascinated Susan even after three years and all she could hope was that one of these days one of the cowboys would be hers.

Cole Turner's face appeared in her mind's eye like a thorn digging in. It had been a week since she'd told him she didn't want to have anything but a working relationship between them. He'd been overly careful at every meeting since to keep it just that.

So much so that it was beginning to irritate her.

Why exactly was that?

And why was she so scared to have dinner with him? She knew the facts—that he was leaving. So why not enjoy dinner and let it go at that? She was an adult, after all.

Because that was just the way it needed to be. The safe way.

Pulling her head out of the clouds, Susan focused on the candy-apple-green swiped across her living-room wall.

“Seriously,” she said. “Why is this tone wrong for me? I might like bright colors, too. Or are you saying I'm too boring?”

Lacy rolled her baby blues at the teasing comment. “You know I like to be unpredictable,” Lacy said. “But, Susan, face it, you're more reserved than me—this green paint
might
just make you crazy.”

From the porch, Molly's hoot of laughter broke Lacy off and covered up Susan's own chuckle. “We all know a
lot, lot, lot
more reserved would be the accurate wording.”

Molly stuck her head back in the window. “But then everyone is a lot more reserved than Lacy! Hey, heads up, the cavalry is arriving.”

Molly had barely gotten the words out before the sound
of numerous vehicles could be heard heading up the drive. Susan shot Lacy a startled look. “What's going on?”

Lacy grinned. “Surely you didn't think we were going to do all the work, just the three and a half of us? I got here early to butter you up. Molly's been slacking off on the painting to take notes for her column, as always!”

Molly wagged her tiny pocket notebook through the window.

“I should have known,” Susan groaned as Lacy took her by the arm and led her toward the door. Unexpected tears welled in her eyes at the sight of the smiling folks hopping from their trucks and cars.

Mule Hollow might have started out with only the matchmakers, who were striding her way, but it now had a wonderful group of gals calling it home. And they were here to help and welcome her. Susan suddenly felt overwhelmingly blessed. God was good. Losing her father had been so hard but this felt so right…like she was at last making a home.

Haley Bell Sutton, the local real estate agent who'd sold Susan this place, came up the steps, her curly blond hair bouncing. She handed Susan a frilly bag. “Happy housewarming.” She engulfed Susan in a hug. “I'm here to paint, but you know what a klutz I am, so you might want to keep me outside with the babies or something.”

“You are not a klutz. Thank you so much for coming.”

Before she could say more, Rose Cantrell came sweeping up the steps. “We're so happy you've finally decided to join us as an actual resident.” She hugged her and held up another bright package. “I'll start a
stack over here by Molly so you won't have to try to juggle them all.”

A truck bounced to a stop and Tacy Jones hopped out. “Whoo-hoo—thought I was gonna be late!” She jogged up the steps with a red package tied with a red bandana. She was a cowgirl through and through, even down to her gift wrap. “Are we glad to have you here! Birdy and her new pack of pups send you their love.”

Susan chuckled as Tacy hugged her. Birdy was Tacy's excellent blue heeler and she'd recently had some beautiful, healthy puppies that buyers were anxiously waiting to take home with them. “Speaking of Birdy and her crew, I'll be out first of next week to give them their last checkup before they go to their new homes.”

“Roger that,” Tacy said as Esther Mae stepped up. She, Norma Sue and Adela had been unloading refreshments from their truck with the help of Lacy and Molly.

“I'm getting me a new dog, Susan,” she punctuated her announcement with a bear hug. “Thought I'd better get you ready. Me and my Hank are heading over to pick her up tomorrow.”

“Great. I'll be glad to see her—”

“Tell her what kind,” Norma Sue broke in, shaking her wiry halo of gray curls. “It's the dumbest thing I ever heard of.”

“Now, Norma,” Adela called from where she was slicing a cake. “Don't start.” Her bright blue eyes sparkled with teasing.

Esther Mae's grin widened. “A Dorky!”

“A what?” The question rippled about the group that was growing by the carload.

“A Dorky,” Norma Sue said, loud and clear. “One good thing about it, the name fits Esther,” Norma Sue chuckled the last words.

“A Dorky,” Susan said. “I've seen the little dogs and they're cute as can be—dorky-looking but cute.”

“What are they?” Haley asked.

Esther Mae patted the edge of her hairdo with pride. “A cross between a dachshund and a Yorkshire terrier. You know, a Yorkie. They call the little darlings Dorkies. You should see my baby.” She cooed the last sentence. “I'll get her tomorrow. She's just a teacup of fur right now. Some of them are straight-haired but my Toot is curls, curls and more curls.”

“What made you decide to get a puppy?” Susan asked.

“Well, with all these new babies being born I just thought a cute little puppy to play with would be fun for them. You know me, it's all about the brownie points and I want these babies to love their grandma Esther best.”

“Ha! We'll see about that,” Norma Sue huffed.

Adela came over and slipped an arm around Susan's waist. “Let's get this housework started and get Susan ready to move in. Norma Sue and Esther Mae can fight over their grandma status any time,” she said.

As always, when Miss Adela spoke, everyone listened. She was the tiny, soft-spoken one but she was the leader when all was said and done. She always, always led by example and Susan wished she could be half the woman Adela was. She was a strong woman of faith. As
were most of the women she knew who lived in Mule Hollow. They all just lived their faith in different ways. Lacy was an all-out in-your-face believer compared to Adela's quiet, steady faith—both were joyful. The idea hit Susan out of the blue. Her faith was more plodding. Did she have joy in her faith?

Why was she asking herself this? Her life was great. What she didn't like about it, she was changing. In the midst of the time she was supposed to be happiest, she was suddenly questioning things about herself that she'd never ever thought about before.

But now the group of women had reached critical mass and Susan was swept into a welcoming party she hadn't anticipated.

The gifts and food were wonderful. However, the sweetest thing of all was that everyone came dressed to work.

“Thank y'all for coming,” she said. “My daddy always said that a true friend was the one who showed up to do the work.” That got a big laugh, but looking around the porch full of smiling women, she felt extremely happy.

Despite her questions, her future seemed awfully bright. As she stood there, the sound of a saw slicing through wood drifted from the clinic building…Cole.

She was suddenly overcome with the insane notion to walk over there and ask him if he wanted to go out to dinner sometime.

Maybe Lacy was right. Maybe the apple-green paint was making her crazy after all.

 

Cole stretched the measuring tape out on the two-by-four then glanced up at the sound of another car headed toward Susan's house.

Something was going on—it looked like a meeting of the entire town of women. He was marking his measurement when a truck pulled up outside and stopped.

A few minutes later Seth stepped through the doorway.

“It's about time you showed up,” he said, finishing his mark.

“Don't you be giving free labor a hard time,” Seth grunted. “I had to tend to my own business before I came down here to offer my services.”

“Yeah, yeah, stop with the sob story,” Cole said, heading over to start framing another wall in. He and his brothers loved to give each other a hard time. He and Wyatt especially enjoyed needling Seth, since he'd always tended to be the serious one. Of course, Cole had been a whole lot more serious since falling in love with Lori and watching her die. Watching someone fight that hard to survive changed the way a person viewed life.

Then again, it also made a person grateful for family, and his brothers had stood by him even in the darkest moments. Even when they hadn't known how dark his days had gotten. He'd sent his horse home and bought his Harley the same day they'd laid Lori to rest in the tiny cemetery outside her hometown in Colorado. He'd hit the road unsure of where he was going or what he was doing. All he'd known was he had to go. His brothers
had been worried, but they'd stood back and let him do his thing while making sure he knew they were there for him when he needed them. It had been his cousin Chance who had set him on the course of working the disaster areas. Chance was a rodeo preacher and he'd been helping rebuild some of the thousands of miles of fences that had been wiped out by Hurricane Rita. He'd encouraged Cole during a brief phone call to come help with the devastation. He'd started with Rita, and when Ike had hit the coast two years ago, he'd continued to do what he'd been doing. It was odd how disaster had been a blessing to him when he'd needed something to pour his grief into. God had put Chance where he needed to be.

He could see it now.

“Any idea what's going on up at the house?” he asked.

Seth grabbed a board and handed it to him. “They're having a housewarming and paint party. Melody's over there.”

“I must have missed her as she drove by.”

“So how are things going between you and Susan?”

“Nowhere for things to be going.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, then Seth stopped fitting a board into place. “Cole, what's going on inside your head these days? Aren't you getting the least little bit ready to settle down?”

Cole shot a nail into the board then leaned back on his haunches to stare up at his brother. “Honestly, I think about it every now and again. Lately it's been there.”

Seth's lip twitched upward on one side. “I was
hoping you might. Seriously, Cole. I'm starting to need some more help on this end, not to put pressure on you or Wyatt. I've been happy to run this ranch, but since we bought the other ranch, it's taking up more time than I'm wanting to give. I'm married now.”

Cole stood. “Why haven't you said anything about this before?”

“I've talked with Wyatt about it.”

“But not me.”