Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (2 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son
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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

L
eave 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.”

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