Chili nodded as he stuffed a forkful of it into his mouth. “Good stuff,” he mumbled.
“I’m convinced.” Morgan chuckled.
Rowdy looked back at Chili as they slid into the booth at the back. “Don’t choke on that.” The older man hiked a brow and plopped another forkful into his mouth in answer.
“So what’s your poison?” Edwina the waitress asked, coming to stand beside their table. “Food or dessert first?” Edwina had the coarse voice of gravel in a grinder and the dry humor to match.
“No ‘how do you do’ or anything?” Rowdy teased. “My feelings are hurt.”
“As they should be. This smile of mine has been known to cause men to faint,” she drawled. “I finally understand why all three of my ex-husbands just lay around the house during our years of matrimonial torture—they’d passed out from my smile. And all that time I mistakenly called them lazy no ’counts.”
Morgan and Rowdy both grinned. Edwina hadn’t had the best record with men. At least she could joke about it.
“You’re probably right. No need to smile on our ’counts,” Morgan said.
“Yeah, I’ve got horses to ride when I get home,” Rowdy added. “No time for passing out, so it’s just as well you keep your frown firmly planted downhill.”
She tugged her pencil from the crease of her ear. “You two always were the smarter ones— Well, I take that back. Rowdy, you’ve still got some catching up to do. But I’ll tell you what. If I decide to tag a fourth husband to my belt, I’ll give you first shot. How’s that sound? And Tucker already turned me down, just so you know.”
“Well, Ed, that sounds like a plan. In the meantime I’ll have coffee and a piece of the chocolate pie the boys recommended. And I’m wounded that you made the offer to Tucker first.”
“Hey, he’s the law around these parts. It was just smart thinkin’ on my end. But he’s passin’ on my beauty. Morgan, what about you?”
“Ed, are we still talking marriage or pie?”
She gave her lopsided grin that took up most of one side of her face. “You’re taken already, so we’re talking pie.”
“Then I’ll have the same as Rowdy.”
“Back in a jiffy.”
When she was gone Morgan asked, “So what’s the story with you and Lucy? If I had just suspected something was going on, it was made perfectly clear in the pen with the calf yesterday.”
Rowdy leaned in. “I messed up. I kissed her.”
There was a heavy pause as Morgan let the words sink in. “So that’s it. It’s plain you two have a connection.”
“It was a stupid thing to do. She’s had it rough and—” he shifted uncomfortably “—with my past, when she learns of it, I won’t be her fondest friend. As it is, she’s had it so rough that trusting a man is the last thing she’s going to do and one who just hauls off and kisses her? Big mistake.” He kept his voice low. There was no way he wanted anyone else hearing what he had to say. Talking about this in the diner was a mistake.
“I’m impressed.”
Rowdy was not in the mood for jokes, and the glare he shot Morgan said as much.
“Hey, I’m serious. You obviously have some good emotions going on for Lucy if you’re this concerned. That’s a good thing.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’m supposed to be changed—to be moving slowly where women are concerned—and here I up and kissed her.”
Edwina walked up with their pie and he leaned back again and tried to look relaxed.
She gave him the eagle eye as she placed the plate and his coffee in front of him. “You look like you ate a porcupine while I was gone.”
“You got that right,” he said, giving her a halfhearted smile.
“Eat this pie and all your troubles will disappear. If they don’t, take it up with Ms. Jo.” She shook her head and walked away to bring words of wisdom to the next table.
Rowdy cut a big bite of the chocolate pie and let the rich flavor give him some comfort as he mulled over the situation.
Morgan did the same. After a few minutes, Morgan said, “Don’t beat yourself up. Women are just hard to read sometimes. But there’s something going on here, or it wouldn’t matter to either one of you. Give it time. You’re making progress, and don’t forget that.”
Rowdy drank his coffee, his mind tumbling over itself thinking about Morgan’s words. Progress. Was he?
He hoped so.
But there were some things even progress couldn’t help.
* * *
The contractor had started working on her studio and had informed her that the barn had good sturdy bones. He’d have the loft finished in a couple of weeks.
Wonderful!
Or at least it should be, but she wasn’t in the best of moods. Lucy hopped to her feet. She had to get outside; a walk would do her good.
There was only a mild breeze blowing across the endless pastures as she started walking. Moose pranced behind her, stalking grasshoppers along the way.
The sky was a gorgeous cerulean-blue, the clouds perfect for painting. Despite her foul mood, the walk seemed to clear out some of the negativity and she was not quite as down as she made her way back up the hill thirty minutes later.
To her surprise, Tony was sitting on her back porch playing with Moose, who’d abandoned her not long after she’d started the walk. When he saw her, Tony jerked to his feet.
“Hi, Lucy.”
“Hey, yourself,” she said, feeling better just seeing him.
He looked nervous, she realized. “Is something wrong, Tony?”
He sat back down on the porch and Moose curled against his side. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Lucy sat down on the other side of Moose.
“I saw your scars the other day.”
Lucy took a long breath. She’d never talked to him and Wes and Joseph about seeing her scars. “I thought so.”
“You know I have them, too.”
The words took her by surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
He was such a handsome kid and he now pinned serious eyes on her. Pain was shining in them. “My parents... Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it and watching you. And I figured out you’re not comfortable with them. Me, either, just so you know.”
She didn’t know what to make of this. Why had he come? She looked around to see how he’d gotten there and spotted a horse tied to the fence. It was almost hidden by a huge oak tree.
“It’s been bugging me, and I had to come make sure you knew you weren’t alone.”
Lucy blinked back the threat of tears. Tony was concerned for her. How bad were his scars? she wondered. And she was afraid to know how he got them, realizing that he’d almost said something about his parents. Surely not from them?
“Thank you for your concern. I’m so sorry you’ve suffered, too. And you’re right that I’m shy about them. They—” She started to say they made people uncomfortable, but how could she say that without telling him his scars did the same? The thought of this kid being handicapped by the fear of others seeing his scars just didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t do it, so she changed her words. “I was burned two years ago.”
“I was ten—when I came here and it stopped.”
Lucy’s stomach turned. It stopped. What did that mean?
He stood up. “Anyway, just came by to say that I enjoyed your classes.”
Lucy’s heart clutched. “You did?”
He nodded and gave her a half grin. “Don’t tell the fellas, though. You know—” he shrugged “—I was thinking it might be cool to paint something on the ranch. There’s some pretty places here. I figure some of the others might like that, too.”
She smiled and suddenly felt like crying with happiness. “Thanks for telling me,
Tony. About everything. And I think I can get us to paint a ranch scene.”
He nodded, ducked his head and headed for his horse, and within moments was riding across the pasture toward the ranch.
Lucy watched him go. “Moose,” she whispered. “I have an art class to prepare for.”
And she had questions that needed answering.
Hopping in her truck, she headed down the road toward Sunrise Ranch, feeling so sorry for Tony but also like the sun had just risen. She knew how to get the boys’ attention now. Classes were going on over at the school; Jolie’s cranberry-colored Jeep sat out beside the building. Lucy parked her truck in front of the Chow Hall and met Randolph coming out the door.
“Hi, Lucy. Everything going good?”
“Hi, I was looking for Nana. Is she around?”
Randolph looked apologetic. “Sorry, she went grocery shopping. Is there anything I can help you with?”
Rowdy’s dad was a handsome man with a great smile, like him. He had silver temples and coal-black hair otherwise. From what she’d learned of him, his wife had passed away before her dream of opening the ranch up as a foster home became reality. Randolph and Nana had worked hard to make her dream happen and, all these years later, he was still devoting his life to better the lives of all the boys who had come and gone. And he’d never remarried. For all the trust issues she had, she couldn’t help but admire him.
“I bet you can. I’m sure you’ve heard that art class could be better, but I have an idea about that. I need some places on the ranch where we can take the guys and let them paint in the open. Something really great to hold their attention. Can you give me some suggestions?”
“I think that’s a great idea.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “But the man for this job is Rowdy. Why don’t you head over there through the stable to the round pen? He’s working a horse. Rowdy knows this ranch better than all of us. He can show you some spots and then you can go from there.”
It was inevitable—once again Rowdy was the answer. And besides, she needed to talk to him about Tony.
She’d tried for the past few days, since the roping, to not think about him but she hadn’t succeeded. He’d snuck into her thoughts every time she let her guard down.
“Thanks, I’ll head over there now.”
“He’ll fix you up,” Randolph said, and headed toward his truck.
Lucy crossed the yard and walked into the stable.
“Hi, Lucy,” Walter Pepper called from inside a stall where he was brushing down a black horse.
“Hi, Mr. Pepper. I’m looking for Rowdy,” she said. He grinned and pointed toward the doors on the other end. “Thanks.”
The scents of hay and feed tickled her nose as she went, and the anticipation of seeing Rowdy tickled her stomach.
The round pen was just out the back with Rowdy inside astride a beautiful horse. Tan with a black mane, the animal was as handsome as the cowboy riding him.
As he concentrated, Rowdy was at an angle to her, and while she could see his face in profile she knew that he hadn’t seen her. She leaned against the side of the stables and watched, mesmerized.
The horse made a quick maneuver forward, then cut left, then right. The movements would have tossed Lucy out of the saddle and straight into the dirt. But Rowdy was almost like a part of the horse, and not only stayed in the saddle but in control.
Lucy knew enough about quarter horses to know in a real-life situation there would be a calf or cow breaking for freedom. The horse was trained to cut in front of it and get it to go where he wanted it to.
She knew Rowdy had made a name for himself in a competition setting with several of the ranch’s quarter horses. Unable to help herself, she’d looked him up on the internet and had been stunned to see how successful he was.
He’d never mentioned that. Never said anything other than that he ran the cattle operation of the ranch.
She wasn’t sure how long she watched him before he saw her. And her heart betrayed her when it jumped the instant his gaze touched hers across the round pen railing.
Beefing up her determination, she gave him a small wave. “Hey.”
He walked the horse over to where she stood. “This is a surprise. I hadn’t expected to see you.”
“Yes, well, I need your help.” Keep it about the boys. This doesn’t have to be personal. “I need you to show me some places you think the boys would like to try to paint.”
He just stared at her for a minute. “Okay,” he said at last. “Give me a minute and then we’ll load up.”
The butterflies that had been hibernating since she’d last seen Rowdy came alive—and the way her pulse was pounding it felt as though each one of them was working a sledgehammer.
“Sure, sounds good.” She managed to hold her voice steady despite the construction site her insides had suddenly become.
Truth was, turning around and running back to her place sounded much better. Much safer.
Much, much safer.
* * *
Sunrise Ranch was made up of ten thousand acres, and they leased another ten thousand from surrounding landowners. It wasn’t the King Ranch by any means, but it was a manageable size and a beauty.
He’d offered several options when he and Lucy had first climbed into his truck. The river, the valleys— What did she have in mind? She’d said for him to show her his favorite places because places that touched one person would touch others.
There was nothing personal in her voice when she said the words. It was business. Sure. At least she was speaking to him. That was a positive. She might not want him to kiss her, but she didn’t seem to mind being around him. That was good for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.
“There will be lots of things to see on the way to the spots I’ve got in mind,” he’d said. “So if you see something you like, just let me know and we’ll stop and check it out.”
She had a camera with her. And a sketch pad. She’d nodded and they’d been on their way. Neither had said much since then and it had been a good twenty minutes. He was afraid of opening his mouth too soon and her telling him to take her back to her truck. At least this far out it was a safe bet that she’d not want to try walking when he made her mad.
Not that he was going to do that intentionally. Nope, he was keeping this conversation as nonrisky as possible.
She’d been sitting over there hugging the door, as rigid as a T-post. But now her shoulders had relaxed and she had settled back into the seat a bit. It was hard not to relax when driving across the ranch. The ranch had always given him a sense of peace. Even when he was at his most reckless, after he was in his teens and the anger at his mother’s death had steeped for a few years, riding the ranch had been the place where he could think. Where he could almost feel God’s touch.
It was that peace and beauty that his mother had loved. That she’d wanted to share with less-fortunate kids. He knew that was why he’d found comfort roaming the land his mother had loved. The kids... Back then they had been a major issue for him. He’d been a kid who’d lost his mother, and then suddenly he was forced to share his beloved ranch with other kids. At first he’d had trouble. Thankfully, he’d gotten over that within a year.
“This is gorgeous.”
He almost jumped when she spoke. “Yeah, I think so.”
“This is a great time, too—all these spring flowers in bloom. After the drought two years ago, I love seeing them again.”
“Me, too.” The drought had not only stressed the ranch out financially with the lack of grass but had also forced a sell-off of livestock in order to trim expenses down to a minimum. But the damage it had done to the land had been hard to stomach. Thankfully this year there had been a decent amount of rain and the wildflowers were a sign that things were on the mend.
�
��Stop!” she exclaimed as they rounded a curve on the barely visible ruts they called a road. In front of them, the road made a wide arch and then disappeared over the ridge. Wildflowers of a variety of colors with vivid splashes of pink and yellow jumped out at them.
Overhead, an eagle soared.
“You have eagles.” She scrambled from the truck and started shooting photos in rapid fire.
Rowdy stayed watching her as she moved in front of the truck, then across to the side, taking shot after shot.
He wished he had a camera. Then, remembering he did, he grabbed his cell phone and started snapping pictures of her.
When the eagle soared over the ridge and finally disappeared she turned, smiling as wide as the eagle’s wingspan, and came back to the truck and climbed in.
Rowdy’s heart hammered like the staccato of a horse racing across a wooden bridge. She was beautiful.
Whoa, boy!
“Yeah,” he said, his voice tight. “Let’s get over that ridge and see what you say.”
“I say that’s a wonderful plan. I’m dying to know where this road goes.”
Roads. Right. She painted roads.... He knew what was on the other side of the ridge, but for a moment he wondered where this road led, too. The one he and Lucy were on together. Maybe there wasn’t any hope for him, but like Morgan said, he was making progress. Their road led somewhere.
“I love this spot,” Lucy said a few minutes later, as she looked out over the rugged terrain. Once they’d topped the ridge, the wildflowers had diminished but the road turned into gravel, and the soft pink of buttercups and wild lavender verbena trailed through the scattered rocks along the road that sloped downhill to the base of a rocky ravine. Like a wall before them, the ravine rose up, and at the top a gorgeous, huge dogwood was in full bloom. Mid-April was the perfect time of year, and the dogwood wouldn’t last long. Beauty was fleeting. But not for Lucy; he knew her beauty, her goodness, radiated from the inside.
He wondered if she even realized how beautiful she was. He wondered if she worried about her scars. He wished he could help her see that they didn’t matter.
“It is breathtaking and manly. It might appeal to the boys. Can we transport art class out here tomorrow?”
Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected CowboyHis Ideal MatchThe Rancher's Secret Son Page 10