Debra Clopton - Her Unexpected Cowboy

He could tell Nana had her eagle eyes trained on them and wondered if she sensed the undercurrent.

He tried to hide his acute interest in Lucy. After all, he’d sworn off women for a while. And she was sorely putting that commitment to the test. What was that verse that kept popping into his mind—“Test me, oh Lord, and try me.” The Lord was doing a bang-up good job of it, and that was for certain. When he got home he was going to find out what the rest of the verse was so he could figure out a nice way to tell the Lord He could lay off. Lucy sitting next to him, at a crowded table, their elbows practically rubbing together, and smelling of something fresh and sweet— Refusing temptation had never been his strong point. He had always gotten low marks.

His dad said the blessing, having come in just before the meal was ready, and Rowdy talked to the Lord and expressed his concerns. When he opened his eyes and glanced to his left, Lucy was looking at him—and for a second he got the feeling she’d been talking to the Lord just as fervently as he had about being forced to sit with him.

* * *

“You’re an artist,” Randolph said, after he finished blessing the food. It was more a statement than a question. “And you’re tearing out and making a studio. How’s that going?”

Rowdy had the feeling she’d been trying hard not to look at him up to this point.

“I’m getting all the ripping out done first before I start the rebuilding, though.”

“Hopefully she’s gonna leave some walls, but it sure is fun knocking them out,” Wes called from his seat at the card table with Joseph and Tony.

“I’m leaving the major walls,” she chuckled, and the sound had him fighting not to lean in closer to her.

“What do you paint?” Caleb asked, his big blue eyes full of curiosity.

“Well, I paint whatever catches my eye—people, flowers, whatever. But I’m known for roads and landscapes.”

“You paint those yellow lines on the roads?” B.J. asked excitedly, and Rowdy was pretty certain the little kid thought that would be the greatest job in the world. Eight-year-olds saw the world in their own way.

“Not exactly. You see, I paint a road in a landscape.” When it was clear he didn’t understand, she added, “You know the gravel road that cuts through the pasture at the entrance of the ranch? Well, I’d paint something like that, when the bluebonnets are in bloom. Or the doves lined up on the telephone lines.”

His brows crinkled up and Rowdy had to hide a chuckle.

“Why would you want to paint a road like that?”

She smiled, making Rowdy want to smile, too, because he was enjoying listening to her.

“Because I’m infatuated with them. I love roads and love pictures of roads that make people want to know where the road leads.”

“But we know the one in the pasture leads here to the ranch,” Sammy interjected, sitting up in his chair.

“But the first time you came here, did you know what was just over the hill? I mean, you could see the roof of this house, but didn’t you wonder what the rest was going to look like? Weren’t you curious what you would see once the car reached the top of the hill? Wasn’t there a sense of wonder?”

“Yeah,” Wes said, his voice trailing low. “I was hoping there would be a horse and, sure enough, there was one tied to the arena saddled and ready when the social worker stopped the car. It was awesome.”

Lucy placed her elbows on the table and leaned closer. “Yes. That’s what I love about a picture of a road—it lets the person viewing it dream their own story. Everyone who looks at a picture of a road sees and feels something different.”

Rowdy got it, and his curiosity was ramped up to view her paintings. He liked the way her mind worked.

“I was hoping I’d find a place where I wouldn’t be sent away.” Tony’s words rang through the silent room.

“And you found that, didn’t you?”

His expression eased. “I found my family.”

“And we are so glad you did.” Nana said what everyone else was thinking.

“I think it would be neat to paint a picture,” Sammy said. “Can we see some of yours sometime?”

“Sure. I’d love to show you when I get some unpacked. I don’t really have much, though. What I’ve painted recently is at the galleries. But I’ve got to get busy because they are waiting on me to turn new work in. There’s an important show coming up and I need something in it.”

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