Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (6 page)

Chapter Six

S
he'd awakened thinking of the man as if she had nothing else on her mind. She padded barefooted straight to the kitchen and the strong pot of coffee that she'd set to automatically brew this morning.

Yawning, she grabbed an oversize red cup from the cabinet and filled it almost to the brim. Taking a sip of the strong black brew, she let the warmth seep through her, then loaded it with three teaspoons of sugar—one more than usual for the extra shot of energy she would need before attempting to plaster a wall today. She took another sip, sighed then headed outside to drink it on the porch. She loved the quiet of the morning.

She'd come here to clear the air and move on with her life. Knocking walls out and spending her afternoons carrying the wood to a burn pile had empowered her. True, her back ached—and she'd had a very near miss with disaster—but since arriving in Dew Drop, she'd had a blast. And now she'd found something else to do that would be fulfilling—something she needed so badly.

Still, she knew it would take time away from her own painting, which she really should get busy on as soon as she finished renovating. But she would make time for the art classes. They might actually help her regain that spark of enthusiasm she'd come here searching for.

She needed inspiration desperately.

Needed something to motivate her to pick her brushes back up.

She'd come here determined that if she got her studio just right, the joy would return. And she was still trusting that it would.

What about the cowboy?

There he was again, the big white elephant in the room. What about him?

Her cell phone rang, saving her for the moment.

Digging it out of her pocket, she glanced at the caller ID. So maybe she was wrong, she'd rather deal with the cowboy than her mom. Bracing for drama, she pushed the touch screen to accept the call.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Have you lost your
mind?
”

“Not the last time I checked.” Lucy concentrated on keeping her tone light, having long ago grown numb to the melodrama.

“Then why are you living at that dump in the middle of nowhere? You've come a long way, Lucy, after what that jerk did to you.” Lucy held back a retort. Her mother had no room to call names, having put Lucy's father through basically the same thing that Tim had put Lucy through, only her mother had been an open book. But Nicole didn't see the two as the same thing; everything she did felt justified in her mind.

“Mom, we've been through this. I want to be here. I'm loving it.”

“Your father should have stopped this—”

“I'm twenty-six years old and plenty old enough to make my own choices.”
Without being dragged through guilt trips and hysterics.

There was a long, exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. “I never said you weren't capable of making your own choices.” Nicole's voice dripped with emotion. “But what if
I
need you?”

And there was the whole gist of the conversation. Lucy fought off her own exaggerated sigh. “Mother, you are forty-seven years old—”

“Forty-four,” her mother corrected.

Nicole had shaved off three years of her age a few years back. Just knocked them off and somehow didn't think anyone would notice. It wasn't worth arguing over. “The thing is, Mom, I moved here to start fresh. I am going to be fine and so are you. After all, you have Alberto.”

“There you go again not paying attention to me. His name is Alonzo and no, I don't have him anymore.”

Her mother was destined for unhappiness. The one good man she'd ever married had been Lucy's dad, and Nicole had kicked him to the curb years ago. And when Lucy's dad had had the audacity to fall in love and remarry—and be
happy—
Nicole had made it her life goal to try to make his life miserable.

Lucy had been the pawn her mother used most of the time in that quest. As a girl Lucy had suffered because of it and trusted no one with her heart until Tim. A bad move on her part—he and her mother were two of a kind.

“Mom, did you have a reason for this call?” Lucy asked, not happy about being reminded of what she wanted so much to escape.

She was ready to get to work and be done with this bad start to a good day.

“There you go being negative. Can't a mother just call to check on her child?”

Sure she could, but then Nicole wasn't a normal mother. There was always a reason for her call.

“Yes, she can.” Lucy waited.

“Well, there is one thing,” Nicole said, as if suddenly thinking of something. “Now that I've got you on the line. You still have your condo in Plano, right?”

“Yes.” She hadn't put her condo on the market yet, wanting to make certain she wanted to stay here in Dew Drop.

“Great, then I'm sure you won't mind if I stay at your place for a while. I've moved out of Alonzo's place and...”

So that was it.
“Yes, Mother. That will be fine. You know where the key is.” And that was that.

Her mother made a quick ending to the call after she'd gotten what she wanted. Lucy held the phone for a minute, staring at it as she realized her bond with her mother was as blank as the screen. There was a time when she'd longed for more, but then she'd faced facts and knew it would never be more than it was now.

Standing, she looked about her new property. Her sweet uncle had wanted her to find that missing link here on this property and among the folks of Dew Drop. And maybe with her neighbors at Sunrise Ranch. He always had been a perceptive man.

Breathing in the fresh air, Lucy headed toward the barn to find her sledgehammer—the hunk of metal had become her new best friend and she was smiling as she walked along.

Moose appeared, weaving between her feet and arching his back as he rubbed his furry orange body against her leg.

“You and me, Moose,” she said, bending to tickle him between his ears. She had things to do. There was no time to waste on areas of her life she had no intention of opening up again.

Here she might have to figure out how to maneuver around her new neighbor, but her mother had just reminded her of the circus her life could be back home and what her uncle had known or hoped she would find on this property.

She could deal with a certain happy-go-lucky cowboy if she must in order to keep her feeling of contentment. Her mother could have Lucy's condo for all she cared.

* * *

What had he been thinking?

Stalking to the burn pile, Rowdy carried the guts of yet another wall that Lucy had decided needed to bite the dust. At this point he'd begun to really worry about the woman's brain. This wall wasn't connected to the living room/kitchen area or he would have put his foot down. This wall happened to be on the upper floor of the house between two small bedrooms that she'd decided needed to be one larger room. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the woman liked open space.

Or, he had begun to wonder, perhaps she really did just love to knock out walls. Maybe it was a disorder of some kind.

“Calamity Lucy's at it again,” Wes said as he walked up. “I'm thinking we're going to have to talk her into leaving something standing in there or her house is gonna fall right on top of her.”

“He might be right, Rowdy. Aren't you worried?” Joseph asked. “I mean, that's three walls. And I think she has her eye on the one beside her bedroom downstairs. I think I heard her muttering something about closet space.”

Rowdy tossed his armload on the pile, stripped off his gloves and rested his hands on his hips. “I know it seems crazy, but it is her house, fellas. And to her credit, she hasn't knocked a wall out yet that would cause the house to cave in.” For that he was grateful. He didn't tell the guys, but at the rate she was going it was only a matter of time before those were the only walls left, and then...who knew?

Wes rubbed his neck and squinted at Rowdy in the sun. “I guess it's good we're here to talk her off the ledge if she decides to get really crazy with the sledgehammer.”

The kid had been ambling around nursing what looked to be a sore hip and a sore neck. Rowdy wondered again about whether he was bull riding. He'd asked about the hip and Wes had said he'd had a run-in with a steer. Logical answer...and maybe not the lie Rowdy suspected it was.

If his dad or his brothers suspected anything, none of them were saying. Maybe it would be better just to turn his head the other way and leave it be. As soon as the school year ended in six weeks, the kid was free to do as he pleased per the state. In all truth, he could do it now, but thankfully college was in Wes's plans.

Sunrise Ranch didn't cut the foster kids loose when the state did. Once they were here at the ranch, they were family and treated as such. Wes and Joseph were both graduating with scholarships to college. Joseph was heading off to become a vet and Wes was looking at an education in agriculture.

Rowdy pushed the thoughts away. He was probably worried about nothing. Looking at his watch, he saw it was nearing time for rodeo practice. “Hey, why don't y'all head back now? I'll go see if Lucy is ready to start practice tonight and be there soon. Tell Morg for me, okay?”

“Sure thing, Rowdy.” Joseph nodded toward the house. “I think she might be a little worried about it.”

Rowdy gave the kindhearted teen a smile. “I'll make sure she knows we're all going to take good care of her.”

“I have a feeling she's tougher than she looks,” Wes said. “Did either of you glimpse that burn on her neck?”

So they'd seen it, too. Since he'd seen it the other day, he was aware of it. He'd caught glimpses of it when she was busy working and forgot to tug her collar tight.

“I wondered if y'all had noticed,” he said.

Joseph nodded. “I don't think she wants people to see it, though. Kind of like Tony not wanting to go without his shirt.”

It was true. Tony had been badly mistreated by his parents before the state took him away from them and brought him to the ranch. His background was like nothing any kid should have to go through and he had scars to prove it. Bad scars that made Rowdy's stomach curl thinking about them.

“Maybe we can keep this between us, then,” he said, immediately getting agreement from them. “I appreciate it, guys.”

They headed toward the ranch truck as he headed toward the house. When he heard the distinct whack of a sledgehammer, he picked up his pace.

What could she be tearing out now?

Wes and Joseph's laughter followed him as he took the porch steps in a single stride and pulled open the screen door. Calamity Lucy they were calling her—he had to agree at this point. The woman had to stop. Getting her out of this house and involved in something else, even if it was wild-cow milking, was just the thing she needed.

Chapter Seven

“O
kay, that does it. Put the sledgehammer down.”

Lucy spun at Rowdy's irritated growl. “What do you think you're doing?” she gasped when he grabbed the tool. She hung on to the handle with all she had.

“I'm stopping you from destroying your house. Do you realize this is the
fourth
wall you've knocked out? Five, if you count the one in the barn.”

“I can count, you know,” she snapped. “And it's
my
house,” she added indignantly, yanking hard on the sledgehammer. The irritating man yanked right back, slamming Lucy up against him with only the hammer between them.

“Let go, Lucy.”

She glared up at him. “I will not!” The man had been working for her all afternoon and she'd been trying not to think about how every time he looked at her she forgot all about not wanting a man in her life.

Holding the handle with one hand, he covered her hands with the other. The work-roughened feel of them caused goose bumps on her arms.

His lip twitched at the corners as he stared down at her. “You sure are pretty when your eyes are shooting fireworks. I'm kinda growing fond of it.”

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. What had this man done to her?

One minute they were staring at each other, and then he lowered his head and kissed her. How dare he....

Goodness...
The dreamy chant began ringing through her head as his lips melded with hers.

You're a fool, a fool, a fool,
the small voice of sanity began to scream. Tearing her lips away from his, she put footage between them. “Why did you do that?”

His brows had crinkled together over teasing eyes. “I've been wanting to do it from the first day you dropped into my arms. And you know it. I've seen you looking at me, too.”

Her jaw dropped. “You don't have a clue what I want. Or don't want.” That he had her pegged did not make her feel good. “I don't want a man. I don't need a man. And certainly not one who kisses me right out of the blue like that.”
Well, it had been nice—
She told the voice in her head to take a hike!

Rowdy stared at her as if she'd grown two heads or something. “Look,” he said at last. “I kissed you. I'm sorry. I told you I was trying to mend my ways and you're right, I went and kissed you and I shouldn't have.”

“Aha! So you freely admit that kissing women is a regular pastime for you. It just goes to show you that men are all despicable.” The words just flowed out in a rush. “And another thing,” she flung at him when suddenly it hit her that he was still looking at her as though she'd clearly lost her marbles.

She swallowed hard and prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her. How horribly embarrassing.

The clock on the wall in the next room could be heard in the silence that stretched between them.

“Are you okay?” Rowdy asked gently.

She couldn't look at him as she nodded.

“I'm really sorry. I overstepped myself and you're right. I was way out of line. It won't happen again.”

He was actually apologizing to her. What a concept. When had Tim ever done that? Only when he'd wanted something...or when she'd figured out he'd done something he hadn't wanted her to find out about. The sleaze.

“Look.” Rowdy held up his hands in surrender. “I'm not sure what your problem is, but if it will make you feel better, I'll leave.” He turned to go and it was then that she realized she'd been glaring at him the whole time.

The man had to think she was a complete loon.

Stomach churning, she ran after him and caught him on the porch. The sun hung low on the horizon behind him. “Rowdy, wait. I might have overreacted.”

At her quiet words he halted and turned back to her. “Maybe. But, hey, if my kiss drove you to it, then I guess that's a good thing. Only I get the feeling what's going on here goes a whole lot deeper than my kissing. Right?”

She owed him, so she nodded. “It's a long story.”

“Look, I have a feeling you're not comfortable sharing whatever it is with me. Especially now. But how about getting out of the house to practice for the rodeo?”

She had to shut down the sudden impulse to spill everything to him. Working with him was one thing— confessing to him was another. But she had made him feel terribly bad—at least it seemed that way—and she had signed on for this wild-cow milking. “Okay, that sounds like a plan,” she said.

He waved a hand toward his truck. “In that case, your chariot awaits you. And I promise to stay on my side of the truck, behind the steering wheel.”

Feeling more foolish than ever, Lucy pushed her hair behind her ear, contemplated changing her mind and then followed him to his truck.

* * *

“First things first. Do you know how to milk a cow?”

Lucy blinked blankly at him, and Rowdy took that as a no even before she confirmed what he'd figured out.

“Um, I can't say that I've ever had the need to know how to milk a cow.”

Rowdy was having trouble concentrating. He shouldn't have kissed her. Hadn't meant to. He was a yahoo, a buffoon, an idiot. That was for certain. He'd swallowed the woman up as if she was sweet tea on a hot afternoon, and then he'd lost his mind in the process. He just didn't think straight around her.

He knew that now.

The thing was, he liked Lucy and he couldn't seem to do anything but want to get to know her better. But if he'd thought there was something bothering her before, he knew it was true now. Not that he was God's gift to women or anything, but she'd responded to him and then shoved him away as though he was Jack the Ripper.

What was her story? Something had happened to cause this leeriness.

She had a mistrust of men. And he wanted to know why.

The best way to do that was to get to know her, and teaching her to milk a cow was one more way to do that.

“So this isn't a milk cow.” It wasn't a question but an observation on her part. She bit her lip—he fought to focus—and she studied the mama cow in the holding pen. “Aren't mama cows dangerous?”

“Yes, they are when their calf is around. They're not to be toyed with, and you need to know what you're doing so you can get in there and get out. Okay?”

She rolled her gorgeous eyes. “I'm thinking this is the craziest stunt I've ever agreed to.”

He chuckled. “I hope so, because it is kind of crazy.”

“Then why are you allowing the kids to do it?”

“They're ranch kids. Other kids skateboard on rails and jump bikes over holes and ramps. Ranch kids get in the arena with cattle.”

She crossed her arms tight and glared at the cow that stood contently in the pen. He knew as well as she did when she started after the cow's udder things would change in an instant.

“Look, I don't want you to get hurt. The thing is the older teens know what they're doing. This isn't for little kids. You have to remember, one will have her head, and one will control her tail and one will be helping the boy holding the head. I'll be helping you get to the udder. They'll have her stretched out and it won't be as dangerous as it could be. You just have to look out for her feet, and I mean it. Watch them. Now I'm going to call the boys over and we're going to demonstrate.”

“Fine. You do that.”

He almost chuckled at the way she was fighting her fear. He'd learned that she wasn't one to back down.

Rowdy liked that. Respected it.

* * *

“Okay, you need to hold your hand like this, like you are going to shake my hand.”

Lucy watched Rowdy hold his hand out with his fingers together and his thumb slightly separated from them. She copied him, trying hard not to think about the kiss. But it was a little bit distracting— Okay, it was a lot distracting.

She held her hand as he was and then looked skeptically at him. “Then what?”

“Then you grab here at the top,” he explained. “No pulling like you see in the movies. Just clamp it between the fingers and push gently upward. Milk will come. Remember, in the competition, you need a few drops.”

How hard could it be?

“And then you run.”

She glared at him. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me get myself into this. If the boys don't want to paint, then I wonder why I'm doing this?”

“Sometimes even if a boy is curious about trying new things, he needs an excuse to do it. Painting isn't the most macho thing for these guys to do, so you getting in the ring with this cow gives them the excuse because you called their bluff. Get it?”

She did, actually. “Yes. So now I know.” And she couldn't back down even if everything in her warned her to run now. As she looked at Rowdy, her stomach felt off-kilter and she wondered if the warning was for her to run
from
him instead.

“So do we have a regular milk cow somewhere that I can practice on?”

He chuckled. “Sorry, we're not in the milk-cow business. You're going to have to test it out on Betsy Lou here.”

“Why does this not surprise me?”

“Hey, Wes, Joseph, y'all come on over.” He'd sent the boys to practice with Morgan on the other end of the arena and now, at his call, the entire group came running. It looked as though she was about to be the show for the day.

Morgan rode his horse over behind the boys. She liked Morgan—he seemed to be a rock, and as steadfast as they came. She had a feeling—just from all the responsibility that he carried on his shoulders—that if a man could be trusted, Morgan McDermott would be that man. Rowdy's boyish grin tickled her memory.

Could Rowdy be trusted?

No. He was too reckless. Too good-time Rowdy. Not that anyone had told her this, but she knew in her heart that he was. Tim had had that same look. His smile came too easily and it teased too often.

The boys who weren't on the team climbed to the top of the arena rails. They looked so cute sitting up there. Wes, Joseph and Tony climbed between the rungs and sauntered her way.

“We'll take care of the cow,” Wes said, looking cocky, and Lucy believed he would.

“We're going to let you learn here in the small pen. So I won't have to rope her, the boys will just grab her and then I'll move into place and tell you when to make your move.”

She nodded. “Gotcha.”

“Okay, then, let's get this party started. Fellas, it's all yours.”

They whooped like she'd learned they were prone to do, then dived at the cow so fast it didn't have time to make a break for it. Wes grabbed the head and Tony joined him. Joseph grabbed the cow's tail. They all grinned at her as the cow let out a “Maaawwww” that sounded like a battle cry.

“Let's go. Follow my lead and watch out for the back leg. I'll get the milk first, so watch closely.”

Was he kidding?
She kept him squarely between her and the cow as she crept behind him. He whipped out the jar that was supposed to hold the milk, and as she watched he raced into the danger zone and reached for an udder.

It was
udderly
unbelievable.
Funny, Lucy, you're a real riot.

“You do it like this,” he called, bending toward the moving target. The boys were holding the cow, but she was bigger than them and not standing still. Rowdy displayed the milk in the clear jar as he moved back beside her.

“Piece of cake. You can do it.”

“Yeah, go for it, Lucy!” the kids called from the fence.

Praying she didn't lose her lunch, she was so nervous, Lucy grabbed the jar and headed toward the cow with Rowdy beside her. “Piece of cake, my foot,” she quipped, making herself smile for the kids. Hunching down, she reached toward the udder. When she slipped her hand in, the cow moved as she grabbed hold and milk shot her in the face.

Spitting and blinking, she scrambled to hang on. The cow bellowed and sidestepped, taking the boys with her. Lucy didn't let go, but lost her balance and fell forward, hitting the cow in the belly before planting herself face-first in the dirt! The cow bucked, kicked its leg out then stepped on her arm. Then her shoulder. Pain seared through her and Lucy would have screamed but her face was plastered two inches deep in smelly arena dirt.