The Trouble With Lacy Brown

by Debra Clopton

  Then, mad-cow-Mama charged!

  Clint urged his horse forward as he neared the front pasture. It was a still, quiet morning that promised to be another scorching Texas day in July. Heat simmered about him, causing a thin film of perspiration to bead across his brow. It was his kind of morning.

  He respected everything there was about the way God had created summer in Texas. If ridden right you had no problems, ridden wrong you suffered consequences. He’d learned at an early age to work while the day was young, take your time while the sun was high and finish your chores as the sun moved west. This morning he was looking for a missing pregnant heifer due to drop her calf at any time. He wanted to move her closer to the house, so he could help with the delivery if needed. Clint enjoyed the birthing process; it made him smile.

  And those didn’t come easy to Clint.

  Approaching the tree line separating the two pastures, he was alarmed when a shrieking scream filled the calm morning air. By the mere flick of his heel Clint sent his horse galloping through the pine trees just in time to see a tiny woman sprinting across his pasture. An angry cow was right on her tail.

  Now, seeing a woman racing about his land wasn’t a normal everyday sight. However, when he realized it was Lacy Brown burning rubber in his pasture, he wasn’t surprised. Nothing this woman could do would shock Clint.

  His horse, always ready for a chase, easily cleared the fence and took up pursuit of the two ladies. Like lightning and thunder, they were close together, striking out toward a lone tree in the center of the clearing.

  “Get behind the tree,” he yelled, even though he didn’t think Lacy Brown in her obvious terror could hear him.

  And then, just when he thought she would be trampled, Lacy took a flying leap, grasped a tree limb and swung effortlessly up into the tree branches.

  Clint pulled his horse to an abrupt halt, disbelieving what he’d just witnessed. He pushed his hat back on his forehead and scratched his temple. That tree limb looked to be about seven feet off the ground. Her athletic lunge had looked like that of a seasoned acrobat.

  “Whew, that was close,” she gasped from above, clearly out of breath.

  As he stared in bewildered silence, she pushed a branch out of her way and peered out at him.

  “Am I glad you showed up,” she panted. “I thought I was done for. Can you do anything with that cow?”

  Clint pushed his hat back farther. “That depends, Miss Brown, on what you are doing here in my pasture at the crack of dawn?”

  “Your pasture? I thought this belonged to Norma Sue’s boss.” Her eyes widened and she shifted on her perch.

  “I am Norma Sue’s boss.”

  “Oh, my…” She moved a branch farther out of her way. “Then you’re my landlord.”

  “Your what?”

  “Landlord. Norma Sue rented us that small house up by the road.”

  “You’re joking. Right?” Clint felt a severe sinking sensation in his gut. His saddle groaned loudly as he shifted uneasily.

  “Nope. Wouldn’t joke at a time like this.” Her brow furrowed as she looked from him to the heifer, now standing contently to one side of the tree. “Why isn’t that cow chasing you?”

  “Oh, her, that’s Flossy. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Ha! She almost killed me.”

  “All you had to do was turn around and flap your arms at her.” Her look of frustration gave Clint an odd sense of satisfaction after the way she’d mouthed off the morning before.

  “No way. That cow wanted my blood.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head, loving her distress. “I assure you, you can get down now.”

  “Not on your life, bud. That cow is crazy.”

  “Look who’s calling the kettle black.” Clint dismounted and went to stand beneath her.

  “You are saying that with a smile on your face. I hope.”

  His lips twitched. “A small one, but it’s there.”

  “Well, good. I’d hate to have to fall out of this tree and belt you one.”

  Clint removed his hat, ran a hand through his hair. “Did your mama ever tell you what a handful you are?”

  “All the time. Now about my playing monkey—”

  “You don’t have to keep hanging around up there. Flossy isn’t going to hurt you and I need to go and find her baby.”

  “Her baby! Ants were attacking the poor thing.” She started to drop down and stopped. “You are certain Flossy isn’t coming after me again?”

  “Certain.” Clint sighed, holding out his arms. “Come on down. I’ll help you.”

  “No, thanks. I can handle this.”

  She slipped from the tree, dropping to her feet in front of him. She had on plain gray athletic pants, and a lime-green top with no sleeves. She had lovely arms, tanned and lean. Even a mess, Lacy Brown was a sight to behold.

  Flossy snorted and Lacy sprang up against him. Before he could snag his good sense, he wrapped his arms around her…all for the sake of protection. She fit in his arms like she’d been made to be there. It was a very pleasant feeling. Her wispy hair tickled his nose, tempting him with the inviting scent of lemons. He loved the smell of lemons— “Come on,” he growled. Lacy looked up at him and blinked. She had a set of very deceptive eyes. They seemed almost innocent. He had a hard time believing this could be true of such a wildfire of a woman. He dropped his arms and stepped away. “Flossy isn’t going to harm you.”

  “If you say so.” She stepped away from him. “But I’ll walk on this side of you just in case.” She quickly sidestepped around him, placing him beside Flossy.

  Clint fought the need to smile.

  “The calf is over here,” she said, and started trotting.

  Clint fell in beside her. The spitfire had a tender heart.

  They jogged a few yards before he saw the calf.

  “He was crying terribly when I came around the corner. It scared me to death at first. I never knew something so small could make a noise like that. It was heartbreaking. I couldn’t stand it if he died.”

  They reached the tiny babe together and Clint dropped to his knees. Lacy plunked down and gently took the little fella’s head into her lap. He hadn’t moved and was breathing heavily.

  “Tell me he’s going to be all right.”

  He was covered in bites, but Clint had seen worse. Nevertheless, it was obvious that if Lacy hadn’t intervened, the ants would have killed the calf. “He’ll make it. Thanks to you. I owe you.”

  Lacy just nodded. When she looked up at him there were tears in her eyes.

  No, not tears— He lifted the calf in his arms, fighting to ignore the way his heart was thumping. Lacy stood, too, then walked over and picked up a red sweatshirt.

  “Is that what you beat the ants off him with?”

  She nodded and after inspecting it for more ants, she yanked it over her head then pushed the arms up to her elbows.

  “That was quick thinking on your part. Thanks again,” he said.

  Returning to his side Lacy gently rubbed the curly white forehead of the weak baby. “You’re welcome. I couldn’t stand the thought of him dying.” The wind whipped at her pale hair and Clint had another crazy urge. He wanted suddenly to tuck the feathery strands behind her ear and kiss away the worry lines creased between her eyebrows. Whoa, Clint…you’re one sadistic fool! What’d he think he’d do with a woman like Lacy Brown? She’d be the kind of woman who’d bring a man to his knees, wild, unpredictable—and then when he couldn’t think straight anymore, she’d be the kind to walk away. And never look back.

  “The calf will be fine,” he snapped, trying to ignore how cute her quizzical expression was.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Nope.”

  She dropped her hand and stepped back. “You’re sure. You look like you just ate a lemon.”

  Lemons— “Nothing is wrong, I need to get going is all.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No!”

&
nbsp; Her lovely eyebrows shot together. “There is something wrong. The calf is sicker than you’re telling me.”

  She stepped closer. Her bare forearm brushed his and he froze. Sweat popped across his forehead when she lifted her gaze to his. Lacy Brown’s eyes were bottomless pools of sapphire. They reminded him of pictures on a brochure he’d seen of the blue waters off the coast of Mexico. The travel brochure had boasted that you could see thirty feet deep in the crystal-clear water. It couldn’t compare to the depths of Lacy’s eyes.

  “Clint, is the baby dying?”

  “No—”

  “Then I’ll come by later to check on him.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Yes, it will.” She started to move toward the fence then stopped. “Flossy isn’t going to trample me, is she?”

  “She’ll stick with her calf. Go on.” Please.

  “Well, if you say so.” She eyed the cow warily before loping toward the road.

  “Sorry about all this,” he called stupidly, watching how she moved, liking her fluid movement. Enjoying what he saw way too much.

  “No problem,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m glad to see all those years of gymnastics finally came in handy.” She climbed through the fence then stopped. “See you later, neighbor.” She waved high above her head.

  He couldn’t move as he watched her disappear around the bend in the road. Only after she was gone did he expel the breath that had stuck in his lungs.

  “Not if I see you first,” he muttered.

  What could provoke those eyes to playfulness? The question hit Lacy like a sledgehammer. Oh, no, you don’t, she thought, snapping from insane daydreams of Clint Matlock and back to her driving. She and Sheri were headed toward town to work on the salon.

  “So he rescued you on his horse.”

  “No, Sheri.”

  “How romantic,” Sheri sighed, ignoring Lacy’s denial.

  “There was nothing romantic about it. I almost got trampled by a ballistic cow.”

  “You know you enjoyed it.”

  “No, I did not enjoy the mad cow.”

  “You know perfectly well I’m talking about Clint Matlock with the dreamy dark eyes.”

  That was it. “Sheri, you know I’m not here to look for a guy.”

  “And why not?” Sheri turned to face Lacy.

  “Because I don’t have time. That’s not part of the plan.”

  “That’s a cop-out and you know it, Lacy Brown. God has someone out there for you and you can’t pick the time and place for His plans to come together.”

  “Believe me, Sheri, Clint Matlock is not the man God has waiting for me. Why, we’d never have any peace if that were so. We’d be fighting all the time. And besides, I’m not ready.”

  Sheri sighed and relaxed into the seat. “When will you be ready? It’s been a year since Dillon.”

  Dillon. Lacy tried not to think about him. Things had gotten better since her and Dillon’s breakup, but it still hurt to think about Dillon’s deception. She’d broken off their engagement when she’d realized that their life goals and faith were at odds with each other. She’d been determined to seek God’s total will in her life even if it meant sacrifice on her part.

  Still, Dillon’s quick marriage not three months later had shocked and hurt. It stung her ego that he could move on so quickly. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready, Sheri. I just know I’m not ready right now.”

  Lacy learned three things immediately: the diner had good food; the jukebox really did only play “Great Balls of Fire” and if plans were to be made, they were thought up over coffee at Sam’s Diner.

  “Norma Sue, you’ve got to work on that music box,” Esther Mae clucked as she scooted into the booth’s bench across the table from Lacy.

  Lacy watched Esther’s hair and thought for a minute that the thing might topple off her head. She even wondered if the triple-decker might be a wig. But then, after close inspection, she decided the diabolical-do was all Esther Mae’s.

  “Now, Esther, hold on,” Norma snapped. “You know I can fix small appliances.” She nodded toward the jukebox. “Does that there music box look like a toaster?”

  “I don’t understand why if you can fix my toaster you can’t figure out why only that one song plays on that machine.”

  “Esther Mae,” Adela interjected calmly, “Norma Sue said she can’t fix the jukebox. If she says she can’t, then she can’t. You’ll simply have to learn to tune the music out.”

  “Tune it out. Goodness gracious!” Esther shrilled along with Jerry Lee. “It’s kind of hard to tune out!”

  “Sorry, Esther Mae,” Lacy laughed. “I couldn’t help plugging another nickel into the jukebox. I love it!”

  Norma Sue eyed the jukebox like it had issued a personal challenge. “Sam, I’ll be back tomorrow to work that thing over. If more new folks come to town, they’ll be wanting to play it, too. So it needs to work, or it’ll drive us crazy.”

  Lacy caught the small smile on Adela’s lips. The little lady knew exactly what to say to get the job done.

  “Thank ya, Norm. I appreciate the help. I got a toaster out back that needs fixing while you’re here.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Norma Sue said, shaking her head.

  “What’s the deal with the toasters?” Sheri asked, thumping two sugar packets together.

  Lacy would have asked, had she not been watching Sam curiously.

  Everything paused as he placed a china cup full of creamy coffee in front of Adela and then asked for orders. It was interesting to Lacy that Adela hadn’t asked for the coffee and also interesting that instead of the commercial ceramic mug everyone else in the place seemed to drink from, she received a dainty china cup. Also interesting was the plum color Sam turned when Adela smiled up at him in thanks. And although Lacy marked the scene in her memory as a point to ponder, no one else seemed the least bit surprised as they gave Sam their order.

  As soon as he moved away, Sheri hunched over the table on her elbows and said, “Tell the tale about the toasters.”

  Norma sighed. “It’s a long boring story. But I’ll make it short. I can fix the things and I never get any peace because of it.”

  “So are you the town handyman?” Sheri asked.

  “Woman,” Norma corrected with a snort. “Sadly for me, I can fix anything as long as its insides are similar to a toaster.”

  “Once,” Esther Mae piped in, “this fellow wanted to marry her because he thought she could fix his tractors. Norma Sue set him straight right quick. She was so mad she got up under all three of his tractors and messed them up. When she finished, he had parts lying everywhere.”

  “That-a-way Norma,” Lacy said. Taking the soda Sam handed her, she saluted Norma.

  Everyone followed by lifting their drinks, too. “Now I know who to call if something breaks in the salon. However, before you dismantle anything, simply tell me whether it’s repairable or not. Or if I’ve angered you in any way that day.”

  Adela hid her mouth when Sam started laughing. “Yeah, poor Artie Holboney never did get those tractors working after that. Ended up he had to marry a woman in the junk business.”

  “Oh, Sam,” Adela said, giving him a soft push on the arm. “He did no such thing.”

  Sam looked at her hand still resting on his arm and beamed like a rooster in a henhouse.

  Lacy took in the blush that colored Adela’s cheeks when she realized what Sam was looking at. Quickly she folded her hands in her lap. Lacy found the prospect of a blossoming romance between these two lovely people extremely motivating.

  “Okay, girls, I think it’s time to get down to business,” she said. “Let’s talk turkey about how to entice women to Mule Hollow. I need you to tell me your plans.”

  “Well,” Esther Mae began, high-pitched and shrill. “There’s a bunch of single teachers who teach at the community school we share with a few other small towns.”

  “Yeah,” Norma Sue added. “We bus the
few children who live here to a school twenty miles away. The teachers commute farther than that, because most of them live in Ranger, only because it has things to offer them.”

  Esther Mae nodded vigorously in agreement. Lacy watched her flaming dipper threatening to slide right off her head and do a swan dive off her nose into Norma’s coffee.

  “Things we don’t have,” Esther gushed. “Like beauty parlors and dress stores. And aerodynamic fitness centers!”

  “Aerobic,” Norma Sue shot at her. “Aerobic. They’re not airplanes, for crying out loud.”

  “Whatever,” Esther Mae quipped. “Anyway, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted? Oh, yes. We’re remodeling the old Howard house across the street as a small apartment building. Adela, bless her heart, has the funds and wants to do this for the good of the town. Also, we thought we’d do a fair. You know, a street fair like we used to have years ago.”

  “Yup, used to have those fairs in our courting days,” Norma Sue added. “Met my Roy Don at one. He could stack more hay bales faster than anyone. I kissed him when I gave him his trophy. Boy-hidie, that kiss sparked a lifetime of love so rich I still get teary-eyed thinking about it.”

  “Norma Sue,” Esther Mae sighed, “Hank Wilcox ain’t no slouch, either.”

  “Ladies,” Adela added softly, “we aren’t here to discuss your sweeties’ attributes. Although I’m certain that they are wonderful. We’re here to make some plans for the rest of the world to fall in love.”

  “Of course we are,” Esther Mae agreed, smiling at Lacy. “Lacy, do you have any suggestions?”

  She had been enjoying herself immensely and now Lacy hunched over the table conspiratorially, ever so ready to share her ideas. “I thought you’d never ask….”

  Chapter Four

  “Women! Clint, I just don’t know what we’re goin-t-do,” Roy Don muttered, tugging at his fat gray mustache. He was pacing back and forth across Clint’s office, the clink of his spurs punctuating each hard step. “I just don’t know.”