Authors: Debra Clopton
“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, tooâall 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?”
He jerked his mind back to what she was saying. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
“This is just to encourage them. We'll start out with background and slowly build from there with each lesson.”
“Sounds good to me. I can't say I've ever painted, so I don't have a clue.”
“Then you should join us.”
He relaxed against the fender of his truck, watching her, and shook his head. “I'm not an artist. I want to see your work, not mine.”
“You might surprise yourself. There could be a masterpiece or two inside of you.”
He grinned. “I don't think so. My place is on the back of a horse.”
“And you do a beautiful job of that. I enjoyed watching you work with that horse earlier.”
That she'd said that pleased him. “Thanks.”
She smiled, gave a nod and then, as if realizing suddenly they were staring at each other, she looked up at the dogwood. “I love what a dogwood stands for,” she said. “God's love is so deep. My grandmother used to always tell me that the white color represented Jesus's purity. The four leaves represented His hands and feet and the burgundy indents on each leaf represented the blood He shed for us.” She looked at him then, strong yet gentle.
“My mom used to tell me something similar. I think that's one reason this is the perfect place for the boys to paint.”
She smiled. “They need every reminder we can give them that they are not only loved by us, but by God.”
Rowdy's heart was banging again. This time it was because she got it. She got everything about Sunrise Ranch and the mission of it. “Yes. Exactly.”
She sobered suddenly. “Rowdy, Tony came to see me this morning. I don't know if he skipped class, but if he did, I hope he didn't get into trouble. He needed to tell me something.”
“He's a good kid. If he felt compelled to come see you, I know it was for a good reason. He won't be in trouble.”
“Good. Heâhe came and told me he was burned, too. He told me he didn't want me to feel alone.” She shook her head and swiped a tear from her cheek. “How could parents hurt their child like that?”
Rowdy wanted to hug her so badly he could barely stand it. “It happens every day,” he said, his voice gruff. “It makes me furious, but I've come to realize that here on this ranch we can help heal their hearts. This is where
I
can make a difference. And that helps me. You're making a difference, too. Tony doesn't talk about his past much. So I know your scars are tough for you...but God just used them to touch a kid.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. “No, God used that beautiful, brave kid to touch me, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
U
sing a few two-by-fours nailed together, the men constructed several easels for the kids' canvases, and Lucy watched as they loaded them in the back of the truck. Rowdy had hooked a trailer to the truck and threw some hay bales on it, and the boys were ready for a hayride across the ranch.
Lucy was pleased that the boys seemed more excited about the whole process.
“You mean I'm gonna get to paint a rock today. Not a flower?” B.J. asked the question with the serious eyes of an eight-year-old. As if painting a flower would give him cooties.
Jolie and Lucy both laughed at his seriousness. A rock rated very highly on his radar.
Lucy couldn't help reaching out to tousle his hair. “Yes, you will be able to look at the landscape I've chosen and focus on a rock if that's what you'd like to paint the most.”
“All right!” he yelled, doing a jump and running off to grab Sammy's arm and give him the great news.
Jolie reached for another canvas to load on the trailer. “Kidsâthe funniest things make them happy.”
“I know,” Lucy agreed, carrying the case with the paint to the trailer. “I'm thrilled this outing is making them more excited.”
“They just love being outside. And besides, they really were worried about you after you got kicked by that heifer. And then when you came back and held your own with that calf, you should have heard them talking about how you wouldn't give up. They like you, Calamity Lucy.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “They're really calling me that?”
“Just in teasing,” Wes said, overhearing her comment. He was helping Rowdy load a cooler full of drinks. “Your house just barely missed imploding. One more wall and poof, down it would have come.”
“I have to agree,” Rowdy said. “The boys were thinking of confiscating the sledgehammer.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Y'all are crazy. Jolie, they knocked out five walls. There are at least five still standing.” She laughed.
Nana came out of the Chow Hall, followed by Joseph and Tony carrying another large ice chest. They'd already loaded one just as big.
“There's enough food in those two chests to serve an army, so you should be okay. And the third one Wes and Rowdy brought out is packed full of water and sodas.”
Lucy went over and gave her a hug. “Thanks, this is going to be a good day.”
“Me and the girls are champing at the bit to do this. Have you thought any more about offering us old fogies art classes?”
“I have, and the contractor started yesterday. The place is going to be finished very quickly. It's nothing elaborate, more a rustic-cottage style. And if y'all are really interested, then I'd love to start a class and see how it goes.”
“Wonderful! I'll tell the gals. They are going to be excited.”
“I'd be interested, too,” Jolie said. “It would be a great girls' night out.”
Lucy was touched. “I'm getting more excited by the minute.”
“Okay, load up,” Rowdy called.
Morgan and Randolph had come out of the office.
“Have a good time,” Morgan called to the boys. He slipped his arm around Jolie's waist and hugged her to his side. “This was a very good idea.”
“Yes, I think so. Lucy's a gem for doing it.”
“My pleasure.”
Randolph had been talking to the boys who'd rushed the hay wagon. “Settle down when the trailer is in motion. I don't want any of you falling off and getting hurt.”
Every one of the boys listened to him and stopped their good-natured pushing and shoving.
Rowdy grinned. “That's more like it. Okay, let's go paint us a rock.” He shot a wink at B.J., who giggled and pumped his arm in the air.
Jolie and Lucy climbed in the truck with Rowdy and, since Jolie beat Lucy to the truck and claimed the backseat first, that left Lucy in the front seat with Rowdy.
Thoughts of him had hovered in the background of her thoughts since yesterday, and she wasn't pleased about that.
He'd agreed not to kiss her anymore and clearly had taken his hands-off promise seriously. But yesterday when she had gotten emotional talking about Tony, she'd wished he had folded her in those strong arms of his and held her close. Instead, he'd remained firmly where he was, and though his words were comforting, his arms had stayed locked tightly across his chest.
What was wrong with her? She'd gotten what she wanted, so she should be relieved.
But she wasn't. So far today he'd stayed on the fringes as they'd gotten everything loaded up. She thought he'd say he was dropping them off and coming back later to pick them up. But that wasn't so. Jolie had wanted one man out there with them since they were going to be a good distance from the compound. With this many crazy boys, they needed a man along.
Lucy was in agreement, but had half hoped Morgan would be the one to go. Or one of the many cowboys who worked at the ranch. But no, it was Rowdy and she was stuck.
Stuck in the middle of so many conflicting emotions, she felt dizzy.
She didn't want to put herself out there. She didn't want to put herself at risk again in a relationship. No matter how much she was beginning to wish she could each time she looked at Rowdy McDermott.
* * *
“It looks like a fat tick sitting on a pile of mud,” Wes said, standing back and staring critically at his painting.
Rowdy had to agree with the kid. He hid a grin.
“Now, Wes,” Lucy said, coming to stand beside the teen. “You've actually got some very good undertones in this. Now you need some variation of tones. Listen, guys. Brown is not simply made up of brown. If you'll look over there at that rock cluster for a minute, I'll explain again. See the way the sun glints off it? It looks lighter in that spot, right?”
Wes grunted what Rowdy took as a yes. And others agreed.
“To get that take your brush and dip it in the light ochre color, that's the yellowish color that I had you place on your palette. Then add it onto the rock like this.” She demonstrated a quick dash on the rock and suddenly there was a little definition to Wes's tick.
“Hey, that's weird how it looks better.”
Lucy chuckled, looking up at Wes. “It's really fun to see how different colors create what most people look at and see as a single color. That rock is made of lots of tones. Now you try it. Wipe your brush and add another tone. Mix a couple of tones together to make a completely new shade. Go have a close-up look at mine and see the various strokes.”
Excited calls for help had her moving to the next kid, and she gave him her undivided attention. Rowdy enjoyed watching her in action.
Lucy was kind, and her goodness came across when she was dealing with the kids. He still couldn't understand her husband. How could a man do that to such a wonderful woman? It went against everything Rowdy believed in. He might not have dated wisely before but he could honestly say he believed in marriage. When he married, he'd be committing for life. And he was going to be looking for a woman of good character when he fell in love.
“You sure are in deep thought,” Jolie said, coming to stand beside him.
“Hey, Pest, I'm a deep thinker. Haven't you figured that out after all this time?” He nudged her arm playfully. Jolie had grown up with them ever since she was about ten. And he'd been calling her Pest from day one.
“I totally have. So you like her a lot, huh?” She always had been too perceptive.
“What's not to like? But I'm afraid my past might be too much for her to handle. And with good reason. Some mistakes aren't fixable.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance. You certainly do.”
He slid a skeptical eyebrow up. “I don't know. Maybe, but it may not be something Lucy can accept. After hearing her story, I get it.”
“You're all right, brother-in-law. Maybe time can merge your stories.” She started to walk away, then turned. “She told you her story and that counts for something. Don't forget that. She shared some things about her past that she doesn't just share with anyone, so that's a good thing. Remember anything worth having is worth being patient for.”
Patience. It was going to kill him.
* * *
Lucy was happy that the day was going so well. At noon they paused, and she and Jolie opened the ice chest and pulled out the lunch that Nana had so carefully created. The woman knew how to feed the masses, that was for certain. There were thick roast turkey sandwiches, sandwich bags full of homemade brownies and pound cake, plus chips and dips and cut vegetables. The woman thought of everything. And no telling how many hours she'd spent preparing the fare for “her boys,” as she called them all.
“Your grandmother is amazing,” Lucy said, when Rowdy came to stand by her and watch as the boys raided the open ice chest like ants.
“Tell me something I don't know. She loves it. Lives for it actually.” He looked thoughtful. “It's kind of weird, but this was my mother's dream, and when my dad took up the flag and carried it, Nana just took to it like it had been her destiny all along. God has a plan, doesn't He?”
Lucy stared at him, dumbfounded. “Yes, He does.”
He looked a little uncomfortable. “Do you want to take a walk over there and eat on the trailer?”
The boys were sitting around on the ground with Jolie and asking her some questions about kayaking. The trailer was empty. “Sure,” Lucy agreed.
He grabbed a couple of sandwiches and a couple of waters, then handing one each to her, they walked over to the trailer.
They both concentrated on opening their sandwiches and taking their first bite.
“Delicious.” Nana could cook. The sandwich nearly melted in her mouth, it was so tender and juicy.
He just nodded and took a bite himself.
After a few minutes spent enjoying half the sandwiches, he nodded toward the paint setup. “This is good for them. Jolie had a great idea. Thanks for doing it.”
She took a deep breath, studying the boys, then turned to him again. “They are so funny. And I'm loving it. You know, what you do is wonderful, also. Teaching them to work cattle and have fun at the same time. It's a good thing, Rowdy. You said the other day that this was where you could make a difference and it's true. You are.” She meant it, too. Rowdy's attitude, his ability to lift the boys up with his teasing banter and his ability to be one of them was a gift.
He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at her thoughtfully, and she wondered what he was thinking. “Thanks, that means a lot.”
She thought for a moment he was going to say something else, but then his lip quirked up on one side and moved into a tight smile as he rose. “I guess we'd better join the group. They look like they're getting restless.”
It was true, Sammy had just slipped a handful of dirt down Caleb's shirt and a dirt fight was in the making. “Yup, you definitely need to step in on that,” she said, and followed him as he strode toward the “fun” breaking loose.
He'd been about to say something before duty calledâand as she followed him she couldn't help wondering what it had been. There was more to Rowdy than met the eyeâmore than the good-time cowboyâ and she was certain of that.
Not that it changed anything.
Over the next week Lucy spent time getting the house cleaned up. She had the floor people come out and look at the floors that needed replacing because she'd ripped the walls out, and they were coming back at the end of the week to lay the new floors. Thankfully the contractor had come into the house and spent one day finishing the wall openings that she'd made. Her house was coming together.
Sitting at the breakfast bar and sipping a cup of coffee, she had her computer opened and was studying the photos she had taken of the ranch. She had a problemâshe needed to find new places to paint. Her fingers were finally itching to work. It felt so rightâlike a long-lost friend returning.
The gloom that had hung over her past few paintings had disappeared and the sun had finally come back out for her.
Pausing on one of the photos she'd taken, she saw that she'd captured Rowdy's contagious come-play-with-me smile. The man just oozed charisma. She didn't even remember snapping the picture, but she'd been shooting rapid-fire clicks and there he was. She took a sip of her coffee and studied the photo.
Instantly, her pulse skittered. When he looked at her, Lucy couldn't explain the feelings that swept through her.
Sunshine.
Warmth, and excitement. Not to mention that she lost her train of thought and her good sense at the same time.
The small voice in the back of her mind warned that heâthat menâcouldn't be trusted. And yet he'd done nothing to make her think otherwise. In fact, she'd moved to the outskirts of Dew Drop and found herself immersed in a male-dominant area. Men were everywhere, and if they weren't men they were boys, teens and nearly men.
And they were all good to her.
How could she hold Tim's sins against them?
Her finger tapped rapidly on the counter beside the computer as frustration set in. She couldn't help the fear that gripped her when thinking about letting a man have the power to hurt her like that again.
Standing, she snapped off the computer and walked outside. Moose was sitting on the corner of the porch railing cleaning his paws with his tongue. He stopped and stared at her with green eyes as if assessing her.
“Hey, Moose, don't judge me,” Lucy snapped, and headed out to see the progress of her studio. It had only been a week, and yet the contractor was making good time. His crew of four guys worked like ants, each with a job to do, and they were getting it done. Which was great because Margo, her agent, had been leaving messages. She had to have something new soon. The art show of the year was coming up and she needed to have something in it. True, but until now she'd not wanted to think about it.