The moon shimmered on the white rock road and bathed the countryside with a pale glow.
He stopped beside a pond with the moon reflecting off the water. A huge tree hung out over the water, and there was a narrow pier.
“See the owl, there, sitting in the tree?” He pointed and, sure enough, Lucy saw the owl watching them, his eyes glowing yellow in the headlights.
“You spotted him quickly.”
“Out here, you just have to keep your eyes open. This place is alive with animals. But that guy right there has been hunting out of that tree for years.”
She smiled at him despite her nerves. She took another sip of her soda. Rowdy rolled down the windows and turned off the engine. Leaning his back against the door, he studied her.
“What did you want to talk about?”
She looked away, toward the water. “I hadn’t realized how extensive Tony’s burns were.”
“I didn’t understand that. After we talked...”
“I know you assumed Tony had told me. But he didn’t show me. I could not have imagined the extent even if I’d tried.”
“I’m sorry. That was why you looked so pale out there.”
She nodded. He gripped the steering wheel with one hand and his knuckles grew white in the darkness. “When I saw your burns, I thought of Tony. He feels a bond with you because you have that in common.”
Lucy sat her soda in the cup holder and rolled a strand of hair with her fingers, thinking about where to begin.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
He looked startled. “That’s okay.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not. I’ve been hard on you and—” There seemed to be no air in the truck and yet the windows were open. “My burns aren’t just on my arms and neck as I’ve let everyone think. Seeing Tony tonight hit me hard.” Her voice cracked and she had to pause to get it back under control. “You see, until now, I’ve told myself I was okay, blessed that my face had been spared—and I am. I think that’s why this is especially hard for me to admit that I’m so ashamed of my body that I haven’t told anyone that the burns on my arms extend over most of my torso...” She couldn’t say more.
His eyes shadowed and in the moonlight they glistened, and she could almost believe tears were there in their depths. She took a deep breath, torn by whether he was repulsed by what she was telling him or feeling compassion. Her heart of hearts said compassion, but she was uncertain how even that made her feel.
Her throat felt raw.
He looked away and studied the pond; his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You—” he started and then stopped. “I can’t stand the thought of you suffering like that.”
“I didn’t suffer long. I was knocked unconscious soon after the ceiling caved in. The recovery was...difficult. So bad I wished at times I hadn’t lived.”
Rowdy got out of the truck instantly and was at her door within seconds. Without ceremony he yanked it open and pulled her into his arms, crushing her to him.
“I know you’d rather I not touch you—” his voice was muffled in her hair “—but I can’t stand the thought of you in so much pain.”
He was holding her tightly, her toes barely brushing the ground, and Lucy’s arms had somehow locked around his shoulders. She trembled as tears that had long ago dried up tried to break free at his heartfelt words and the earnest way he held her.
The owl’s woeful hoot sounded, cutting through the silence. Lucy pulled herself together, very aware of the man embracing her.
He inhaled deeply and then lowered her to the ground and stepped back. Almost as if he had willed himself to do it. Lucy’s heart was thundering and, though she wished with all her might that things could be different and that his arms were meant to hold her, she couldn’t let herself go there.
“I didn’t mean to get personal.” He looked almost bashful. “But I didn’t kiss you.”
She laughed despite the mood over the moment. “You did very well. I needed a hug in the worst way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, anytime. Why did you share that with me?”
His question surprised her. She walked over to the pier, tested it with her foot then walked a few feet onto it. Staring down into the water, she found the moon looking back at her. Rowdy followed her, waiting at the end with a hand on each railing of the narrow pier.
“I’m not sure, really.” She turned and leaned against the railing, crossing her arms. “I just saw Tony’s scars and suddenly I didn’t feel authentic. And I knew that in order to feel like I wasn’t being dishonest that I had to be open about my burns.”
“It’s no one’s business.”
“True. But, still, I felt like I needed to tell someone...that I needed to tell you.”
Lucy wasn’t sure why she’d wanted him to know. But suddenly she was afraid. Had she told too much?
Had she shown him too much of her heart?
Chapter Seventeen
It was all Rowdy could do not to blurt out that he loved her. He’d had to hold her when she’d looked so shattered telling him about her burns. He’d known for certain in that instant that what he’d been thinking was true. He’d fallen in love with this beautiful woman and the reality was she would never be able to love him.
Sure, she’d confided in him. That gave him hope, but he knew deep inside that she’d never be able to give her heart to him.
“I’m ashamed of the burns,” she whispered, blinking. She held his gaze for a second, and then with a shuddering breath looked away. “I worry—”
“One day you’ll fall in love, Lucy. You’ll find a man you can love.” It wouldn’t be him, but someone she could believe in. Someone honorable, and upstanding. “And when you do, your scars won’t matter to him. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
They don’t matter to me.
She looked lost to him standing there.
“I think I’m ready to call it a night,” she said, walking to where he stood. “Thank you for listening.”
He followed her to his truck and helped her up into the cab. “Thanks for listening to me,” she said again. “I just needed to talk.”
“Anytime.” What else could he say? He asked himself that all the way back around to his side of the truck. There was a ton of stuff he wanted to say, but nothing he could.
Silence filled the truck as he drove back toward home. “You did good out there, by the way,” he finally said.
“You’re a good teacher. Not that I’m planning on making a habit of it. That was most likely my last rodeo competition.”
He grinned. “Quit while you’re on top.”
She laughed. “Something like that, anyway.”
It felt good to hear her laugh. She amazed him.
When he pulled into her driveway, Moose was sitting on the cab of her truck, watching them.
“No, don’t get out,” she said when he started to open his door. “I’m fine. Thanks. I fell apart a little, but I feel much better now.”
“Lucy, thanks for trusting me with your story. It meant a lot to me that you did that.”
She paused before closing the door. “Rowdy, you’ve been nothing but good to me. I’m so sorry if I’ve been unfair to you. You said you didn’t know that woman was married and I believe you. I admire that you’ve changed your life.”
He watched her go, wanting to go after her. Bowing his head, he prayed that God would help Lucy with the struggles she was trying to face alone.
* * *
“You should ask her out.”
Rowdy looked over the top of the horse he was brushing down and looked at Wes.
“Seriously, dude. We—” he pointed from himself to Joseph and the fourteen other culprits gathered around “—know you’re interested in Lucy. It’
s plain to see.”
“That’s right, Rowdy.” B.J. stared up at him. “We like Lucy. She done helped me paint a rock and everything. I like her and I know you got to, ’cause you ain’t stupid.”
Rowdy’s jaw dropped and he looked at the older boys, wondering who was responsible for B.J.’s word choice.
Wes fessed up. “Hey, you’re not stupid and we all know it.”
“We also see you looking all funny when you look at her,” Sammy added. “Ain’t that right, Caleb?”
Caleb nodded his blond head. “We’ve seen you do it.”
“Yeah,” B.J. spoke up again. “It’s kinda like you ain’t slept in days and days. Your eyelids get droopy.”
“Okay, who has been talking to this kid?”
B.J.’s brows scrunched up. “I got eyes, Rowdy. I’m almost nine years old. I know about things.”
Wes and Joseph were almost hunched over holding in their laughter on the other side of the horse. Rowdy planned on having a man-to-man talk with them later.
“Look, Rowdy.” Tony stepped out of the group, his face a work of concern. “Lucy, well, she’s special. And we like you a lot, or we wouldn’t be saying this. This is serious stuff. She’s new around here and we noticed she doesn’t date. She’s too young to be sitting at home all the time.”
“Hold it. You guys have been listening to Nana.”
“True,” Tony agreed. “But still. You know you like her and she deserves to go out on a real date. And you used to be gone all the time on dates and you never go now. So it’d be good for both of you.”
Rowdy wanted to deny it all, but, truth was, taking Lucy on a date was a great idea.
“You ain’t chicken, are you?” B.J. asked.
“No, Short Stuff, I am not chicken.”
Tony and the other boys started high-fiving each other and Tony reached across the horse, holding his hand up. Rowdy gave him a high five.
It occurred to him later that the little sneaks had become proficient at getting adults to fall right into their traps.
First Lucy with the cow milking, and now him.
He chuckled, thinking about what easy prey he’d been.
Now the hard part. Getting Lucy to agree.
The smart thing would be to let the boys do their magic.
But this was his date. And he’d do the asking.
He just hoped Lucy didn’t do the rejecting.
* * *
This was heaven on earth. It truly was. Lucy sat on her stool in front of her canvas in the center of her new studio with the awesome light shining through the windows. The painting had come at her fast and furious. Two days she’d been at it almost nonstop. That was how it was with her. When inspiration struck, there was no stopping it. She had to get it out onto the canvas.
Stepping away, she picked up her coffee and walked to the wide windows that overlooked her valley. Her sweet uncle. How had he known this place would be so perfect for her?
Turning back, she stared at the canvas. It was a scene of the calf branding. The colors were vivid, bold. And though there were many in the picture, she hadn’t been able to help herself—Rowdy was there, bent on one knee with his hand on B.J.’s shoulder, as the focal point. His features lit up the canvas—the softness in his eyes, the generous spirit coming full force to the scene was what would draw every eye to him. Just like it did in real life.
Lucy wasn’t one to brag about her work. There had been a time when she brushed off compliments. But her agent had been the one who pointed out that her ability was a God-given talent and when she belittled it, she was telling God He hadn’t done well by her.
Now she recognized it for what it was. And she thanked Him for blessing her with the ability.
Times like this, though, when she looked at a painting and recognized that she couldn’t have done it without God’s hand on her shoulder, were the moments that she was awestruck. She had feared to never feel that again.
She’d read an interview with an author once who said that there were times when the author would read something she wrote and she would go back and double-check her original manuscript thinking that an editor had switched the words because she couldn’t remember writing something so profound. The author would be shocked when she’d realize she had indeed written the words and knew that God had given her the words.
That was how Lucy felt now.
“Lucy.”
Rowdy! Like a deer in the headlights, she stared at her painting and then at the stairs. The door was open and his spurs clinked with each step up the stairs.
He’d wanted to see her work. But she hadn’t meant for a picture of himself to be the first thing of hers that he saw.
Frantically she set her coffee down and was about to grab the painting and do what? Throw it in the closet?
“Hey,” he said, before she could do anything.
“Hey,” she said, moving in front of the painting. Like he wasn’t going to see the three-foot-by-four-foot canvas behind her.
He looked around appreciatively. “This is great, Lucy.”
She couldn’t help but smile. The room was long, the walls painted a fresh yellow, the color that inspired her. His attention was snagged by the large painting hanging on the wall closest to him. It was one of her rather stormy days, darker than usual and yet there was something about it that still appealed to Lucy. Most of the others hanging were not her usual signature style. On the wall at the end of the building was the single painting that she had from her days before the fire. It was a pale blue sky with two vivid bluebirds playing chase between the trees as a road curved past the tree and around the bend.
It was to that painting that Rowdy moved. “This is beautiful,” he said.
His praise touched her. She moved over beside him and crossed her arms as she looked at the painting. “I painted that years ago—one of my first that I felt was saleable. I gave it to my dad—told him the bluebirds in the picture were to signify bluebirds of happiness. All the joy I wished for him in his life. After the fire, he and my new stepmother brought the painting to me during my recovery and said they wanted me to have it so that the bluebirds would remind me that I would be happy again.”
She felt very self-conscious when Rowdy turned to look at her. There was no denying that she had feelings for Rowdy. Lucy had known as she painted him that, though she didn’t want to face it, she was falling in love with him. And she didn’t know what to do about it.
“You are, aren’t you? Happy again?”
Oh, what a loaded question. She nodded. “I am, Rowdy. I have my hang-ups. But I am. And much of that is because of being here.” She wanted to say because of you but she couldn’t. She was confused about her emotions where he was concerned. And yet she knew that if she just released the fear holding her back and gave him a chance...
Her thoughts stalled as he reached suddenly and lifted a strand of hair from her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers, studying it as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Had he almost touched her cheek? Longing for his touch further confused her.
His eyes met hers, and she prayed he couldn’t read the longing in them. His lips curved into a smile. “I’m glad,” he said, and let go of her hair.
“Is there a reason you came by?” she asked, wishing her voice didn’t sound so breathless. But goodness, the room seemed twenty degrees hotter than it had and her cheeks were burning.
He strode back to the center of the room and the painting she’d been working on. It happened so quickly that she was still standing with her feet anchored to where she stood. From her position she couldn’t see the painting, only his face as he viewed it. He studied the painting intently. And then he raised his eyes and looked at her over the top of the canvas.
“This is unbelievable.”
; The warm rush of satisfaction filled her. “I was inspired.”
She didn’t say by him. She hoped he didn’t realize that he was the focal point of the painting.
“You put me in this painting.”
“Yes.” She decided to play it cool. “What was going on between you and B.J. in the photo captivated me. I couldn’t help myself. You’re very paintable.” There, she’d taken the personal emphasis off of it and put it in professional terms. He looked back at the painting and she wished she knew what was going through his mind.
“B.J. and the boys will be blown away like I am.”
She smiled broadly. “I do love to blow people away. I want them to feel loved, though.” The words were out before she could stop them.
“I think they will.”
He’d said it casually, not seeming to take her words to mean she wanted him to feel loved, too. And that was a good thing. Right? She didn’t want to mislead him. Didn’t want him to think she was playing games with him.
He dragged his hat from his head and tugged at his ear as she’d seen him do a few times.
“Okay, time for me to come clean. I came over here because I wanted to see if you’d have dinner and maybe a movie with me this weekend?”
If he’d walked over and kissed her she wouldn’t have been more surprised.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
He nodded, still holding his hat. She noticed he had a death grip on it, and that simple knowledge got her right in the center of her heart.
“But I—”
“Look, Lucy. Truthfully. I’m just going to lay it out here for you. I don’t want to scare you. But I—I care for you. I’m trying to do everything you ask of me, and that includes keeping my distance, but I know that you know in your heart there is something between us. And I’m just asking for a chance. I know I’ve royally messed up in my past. And I’ve asked God to forgive me. All I’m asking is for you to give this connection we have a fighting chance.”
Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected CowboyHis Ideal MatchThe Rancher's Secret Son Page 15