Her Unexpected Cowboy

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?”