Her Unexpected Cowboy. Debra Clopton
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he was due a lot of payback from both brothers. He gave a quick rundown of catching Lucy the day before. Morgan’s grin spread as wide as Texas.
“So you really didn’t ask her out?”
“Are you kidding? No.”
Morgan cocked his head to the side, leveling disbelieving eyes on him. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Crazy, isn’t it? I’m not saying I’m not going to. But my days of rushing into relationships are done. I told you that.”
“Yeah you did, but it’s been over nine months.”
Rowdy wanted on a horse. Needed to expel the restless energy that suddenly filled him. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was done with women for at least a year. I’m trying to be a role model for the guys.”
It was true. Rowdy might not have known he’d gotten involved with a married woman, but then he hadn’t really asked enough questions, and he sure hadn’t been any kind of role model. After this last fiasco, God had convinced him that he needed to change his life.
“You’re doing it, too. What you need is to find a woman like Jolie, who has her priorities straight,” Morgan added.
“True, but I’m not ready right now. And besides, if Lucy won’t let me help knock out some walls, she’s most definitely not going to say yes to dinner and a movie.”
“True,” Morgan agreed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Speaking of dates, Tucker’s here helping out with practice because I’ve got a date. And Jolie is a whole lot prettier than you.”
“Tell that beautiful lady of yours I said hello,” he called, then headed into the stable. He breathed in and the scents of fresh hay and leather filled him. Horses nickered as he passed by.
He grabbed a saddle and entered the stall of the black quarter horse he was working with. He spoke gently to Maverick as he saddled him. Just the motions of preparing to ride calmed him and helped him think.
Lucy said she had anger issues. It didn’t fit, but she’d said it. He hadn’t seen anger, though. When their eyes locked, he saw fireworks. And there lay the problem.
He had a fondness for fireworks—even though the fondness had gotten him into more trouble than he needed. Thus the reason he was trying to mend his ways.
Fireworks burned—he’d learned that the hard way.
Leading Maverick out of the stable, he headed toward the corral and the sound of whoops of laughter. His behavior hadn’t been anything to be proud of and certainly nothing for these boys to look up to. Rowdy was changing that. No one had said it would be easy.
And living his lifestyle down was going to be the hardest of all, he suspected. The boys’ laughter rose on the breeze out in the arena as he approached. This was what he needed to concentrate on. These boys and the ranch.
“What’s up, Rowdy? Thought you’d skipped out on us.” Eighteen years old, Wes gave him his wolfish smile as he rode his horse over to the arena fence.
“Nope, just running late.” Rowdy hooked his arms on the top rail and surveyed the action. “Did I miss much?”
“There was a runaway wagon a few minutes ago when Caleb lost his grip on the reins and the horses took over.” Wes chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He was one of the natural leaders of the group. Stocky and blond, he always looked as though he was ready to have a good time. Too good. He had a recklessness about him that reminded Rowdy of himself. All the more reason for Rowdy to make a good impression on the teen.
Rowdy had a suspicion Wes had been sneaking around riding bulls behind everyone’s back. Bulls were the one rodeo event that was off-limits for the ranch kids to participate in. And purely Rowdy’s fault from when he’d been a teen. Because of his many close calls with bull riding, his dad had set the rule—no bull riding at Sunrise Ranch.
“By the glint in your eyes, I’m assuming it was pretty entertaining.”
“It was awesome.” Wes hooted. “I never knew your brother could ride like that. Tucker did some pony tricks getting the horses to stop.”
The sheriff of Dew Drop, Tucker didn’t spend as much time on the ranch with the boys as Rowdy, Morgan and their dad, Randolph. But when it came to riding, Tucker could hold his own.
“I’m glad Caleb was okay.” He glanced out into the arena and saw Tucker talking to a group of the younger kids.
“He’s fine. Didn’t even shake him up.” Wes spit a sunflower seed in the dirt and continued grinning.
Rowdy suddenly had an idea. It might not be a good idea, but that was yet to be seen. “Wes, I need you and Joseph to help me with something in the morning. Can you do it?”
“Sure thing. What are we going to do?”
More than likely make Lucy madder than a hornet. “We’re going to do a little yard work and y’all can make a little pocket change.”
“Sweet. When do we start?”
“Sunup.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” A group of the boys over by the chutes called for Wes. “Showtime. I’ll tell Joseph.” Giving his horse a nudge, they raced off at a thundering gallop.
Rowdy watched him and the horse fly across the arena as one. When it came to riding, Wes was the best. He was a natural. Rowdy had a feeling the kid would ride a bull just as well. Though it was against the rules, Rowdy hesitated to say anything until he knew for certain. Wes was courting trouble...but then so was Rowdy if he went through with his plan in the morning.
What was he thinking, anyway?
The woman didn’t want his help. She needed it, though, and for reasons he didn’t quite understand he felt compelled to follow through—despite knowing he needed to steer clear of her.
He had a feeling he was about to see some major fireworks tomorrow...but he’d rather take that chance than do nothing at all.
Chapter Three
The morning light was just crawling across her bedroom floor when Lucy opened her eyes. She’d been dead to the world from the moment she’d fallen into bed late last night, and she stared at the ceiling for a moment, disoriented.
The ache in her arms brought clarity quickly.
And no wonder with all the manual labor she’d been doing for the past week. The muscle soreness had finally caught up with her last night. Caught up with her back, too. She’d always had a weak lower back and sometimes after a lot of stooping and heavy lifting, it rebelled on her. That moment had happened when she’d taken her last swing at the long wall in her living room—a muscle spasm had struck her like a sledgehammer.
It had been so painful she’d been forced to stretch out on the floor and stare at the ceiling until it had eased up enough for her to make it upstairs to bed.
She’d had plenty of time to contemplate her situation and the fact that she really had no timeline to finish her remodel. She could take all the time in the world if she wanted to. Uncle Harvey, bless his soul, had made sure of that.
He was actually her grandfather’s brother, whom she’d lost as a young girl. He had been in bad health when her world had fallen apart, and hadn’t lived on the ranch for a couple of years. But he’d told her this was where she needed be. And he’d been right. She’d known it the moment she’d arrived. She was making the place her own and searching for her new footing at the same time.
And yet, things had changed when Rowdy McDermott had offered to help her. She watched him drive off, and her conscience had plucked away at her.
To prove that she’d made the right decision turning him away, she’d gone at her work with extra zeal...but the pleasure she’d felt had disappeared. Drat the man—he’d messed up