Debra Clopton - Her Unexpected Cowboy

Each swing made her feel stronger. She might have lost control of her life two years ago, but thanks to her dear uncle thinking about her in his will, she was here in Dew Drop, Texas, determined to regain control.

On her terms.

And knocking out walls was just the beginning. Just as Uncle Harvey had intended. He’d recognized that she was struggling emotionally and floundering to find meaning in it all after finally being released from the hospital.

Walking to the sink, she flipped on the cold water and looked out the window as she stuck the pot under the spray. Two young men were carrying fallen tree branches to her burn pile!

Lucy jumped at the unexpected sight and sloshed water on herself. Setting the pot down, she grabbed a dishrag and wiped her hands as she headed for the door. What is going on?

She stormed out onto her back porch and caught her breath when Rowdy stepped around the corner.

“You,” she gasped. “I should have known. What is going on here?” This was what she was talking about—control. “Just because you saved me doesn’t give you the right to just disregard my wishes—”

“Look, I knew you needed help. I just brought the fellas over to pick up a few limbs for you.”

Teens, not men, watching them from the burn pile, clearly uncertain whether to come near or not. They could probably see steam shooting out of her ears.

“They’ve cleaned up a lot. We’ve been at it since about six.”

“Six!” It was eight-thirty now. How had she not heard them?

“We tried to be quiet so we wouldn’t wake you.”

Her mouth fell open. What did he think he was doing?

“You were quiet because you didn’t want me to know you were here.”

His eyes flashed briefly. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You just can’t take no for an answer.”

He stared at her, his jaw tensed, and a sense of guilt overcame her. Guilt. He was the one who should be guilty.

Right?

She was glaring at him when his gaze drifted to her neck and it was only then that she realized she hadn’t pulled on her work shirt yet over her long-sleeved T-shirt.

He was staring at the scar. It licked up from the back of her neck, out from the protection of her hair, and curled around, stopping jaggedly just below her jawline.

“You’ve been burned.” There was shock in his voice.

“Yes.” Turning, she went back into the house to get the work shirt draped over the kitchen chair. Her hands shook as she slipped it on. Rowdy barreled inside behind her.

“Lucy, I’m sorry we startled you like we did. You have every right to be angry.”

Angry? She could barely think, she was so embarrassed. Striding to the living room, she grabbed for her sledgehammer, and without putting on her goggles she took a swing at the wall. Her back and shoulders lashed out at her, forcing her to set the hammer down immediately. She was being ridiculous and she knew it. Why was she so afraid to let Rowdy help her?

The man was obstinate, that was why. Arrogant even, by showing up here to work anyway.

“I’m sorry about that burn. It looks like it must have been terribly painful.”

She met his gaze and gave him a quick nod. Her scars were something she didn’t talk about. Especially the ones on the inside. “It’s fine now,” she said bluntly. She hoped he’d take the hint and not continue this line of talk.

“Look—” he shifted from boot to boot and scrubbed the back of his neck in a show of frustration “—you need help and you know it. You said yesterday that you would think about it. I was just trying to let you see that the guys were good kids and hard workers. They could whip this yard into shape for you in no time. And they’ll do it for free. C’mon, give them a chance. Give me a chance.”

As aggravating as it was to admit—the man had charm. And there was no way to deny that she needed help. She couldn’t go through life shunning all men. That was unrealistic. The fact he’d seen a portion of her scars ate into her confidence, and that was maddening. It did not matter what the cowboy thought of her.

It didn’t.

“Why not?” she heard herself saying. “It looks like you’re going to be over here every day bothering me anyway. But just for a few days. And I’ll pay you.” Lucy! What are you doing?

A slow smile spread across his face. “There you go. That wasn’t so hard after all, was it?” he said, reaching for her sledgehammer. “No pay needed for me, but if you want to pay the boys, that’s fine. I was going to pay them for today myself.”

“I’ll pay them for today.”

“No, I said I would—”

“Look, Rowdy,” Lucy said, in her sternest voice. “If they are going to be over here, then I’m paying them. It’s either that or this deal is off.” They stared at each other and she got the distinct impression that he didn’t “get” her in the same way that she didn’t get him. But she was taking back control of this situation, or she wasn’t having any part of it.

“Okay, have it your way.”

“Good.”

“All righty, then, stand back,” he warned.

Lucy felt her body automatically obey, and watched him swing the heavy sledgehammer as if it was a plastic toy. The muscles in his forearms strained with the strength he put behind the swing. The hammer met the same spot her swing had barely dented and instantly the wood cracked beneath it.

She brought her hand up and touched the base of her throat where her heartbeat raced.

After three more swings along the base of the studded wall, it broke free. It would have taken her all day to do that!

“I see what attracts you to this.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a teasing light in his eyes. “I kinda like it myself.”

“Yeah, it does kill a bad mood, doesn’t it?”

He laughed at that and they stared at each other. Tension radiated between them.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Thank you for helping me. I did need it.”

“No need to thank me.” His smile widened. “You’re the one helping me. Saving me from the wrath of Nana is a good thing. If there is one thing she prides above all else, it’s that her boys are gentlemen. And I have to admit I have sometimes been her wayward child.”

“Say it ain’t so,” Lucy mocked.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna make points when she finds out about this. So I guess that means I’m still the wayward child, since I’m really doing this for myself. Does that make you feel any better about letting me swing away?”

“Much better. I’d hate for you to actually admit that you’re doing it because you’re a nice guy.” And he might be, even if he was a little nosy. But that didn’t stop her from being wary...not so much of him, but of the way she reacted to him.

“Me, a nice guy.” He looked skeptical, and that grin played across his face. “I don’t know about that.”

The man’s personality sparkled and drew her like his eyes and his smile, stunning her once again.

Had she truly thought she was going to go the rest of her life not finding a man attractive?

Of course not.

That her neighbor just happened to have qualities that, regrettably, reminded her that she was still a woman, meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.

* * *

She was still telling herself that when Ruby Ann McDermott, Rowdy’s grandmother, showed up at her house midmorning bearing welcome-to-Dew-Drop gifts: a basket loaded with homemade fig and strawberry preserves and green tomato relish, along with several small loaves of banana-nut bread to freeze and take out as needed, she informed Lucy.

Ruby Ann had long silver hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong features like Rowdy, along with those deep blue eyes the color of a twilight sky. She held her tall frame ramrod straight, with an elegance about the way she moved.