Debra Clopton - Her Unexpected Cowboy

“The ranch rodeo. We got to get good so we can help our teams,” B.J. said, holding his coiled rope in the air like a trophy.

As she was not sure what the difference was between a ranch rodeo and a regular rodeo, the kids explained that at a ranch rodeo there were events done with teams. The younger ones began telling her about their roping skills and asking if she’d ever mugged, or roped, a calf. Their questions were coming faster than paintballs from a paintball gun and she was barely keeping up.

Rowdy had crossed his arms, grinning at her as he rocked back on his boots, enjoying her induction into his world.

“Lucy,” Ruby Ann called from the back porch of the house across the parking lot. When Lucy turned her way, she waved. “Could you come here and give me a hand?”

“Sure, I’ll be right there.” She smiled at the boys and realized a couple of extras had appeared from somewhere, maybe from inside the barn. There were boys of all heights and sizes everywhere. It was going to be a test of her memory skills just to get them all connected with their names. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’ll see you soon.”

“We’ve got to wash up and put horses away, and then we’ll be joining you,” Rowdy explained. “Nana gave the house parents a date-night pass, so you get to hang with all sixteen boys and the rest of the family tonight.”

Lucy did not miss that he was including the boys in the “family.” It touched her deeply. As much as she was struggling with certain aspects of being around him, this was one more glaring declaration of his being a nice guy.

Ruby Ann held the door open for her and smiled as she entered. “It’s so good to have you here. Met the crew, I see.” She enveloped Lucy in a welcoming hug, then led the way down the hall past the mudroom and into the expansive kitchen.

“Did I ever! I’m in love.”

“I know, they’ll just twist your heart and hook you in an instant, won’t they?”

“They’re amazing.”

The scrumptious scent of baked bread and pot roast filled the house, if her nose was correct. The tantalizing scents had her stomach growling. These scents were similar to those of her grandmother’s home back when she’d been alive.

“Dinner smells amazing, Ruby Ann.”

“Thank you. Now take a seat, and, for goodness’ sake, call me Nana. You’re going to hear it chanted all through the evening by my boys.”

“Nana it is.” It felt comfortable and right to call her Nana. She loved that Nana called them her boys. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I love a woman who pitches in. You can peel these grapes for the fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”

“Peel the grapes? Sure,” she said, shocked at the request. She’d never even thought about someone peeling grapes, much less doing it herself.

Nana chuckled. “I’m just teasing. I’ve already peeled the grapes. But you can slice up these strawberries for me if you don’t mind.”

Relieved that Nana had been teasing, she sat down and took the knife Nana held out to her.

There was food everywhere. “This is amazing. How did you ever learn to cook for a group this large?”

Waving the spoon she’d been stirring cheese into a mountain of mashed potatoes with, she chuckled. “I talked to a caterer and she gave me some formulas. Now it just comes naturally. Kind of like I expect painting comes to you. Right?”

Lucy remembered the first time she’d walked into a local art studio and picked up a paintbrush. She’d been ten, and her mother had wanted to encourage her drawing ability. Lucy had loved the scents that filled the studio, linseed oil and turpentine, and the instant she’d held that brush, everything in the world had seemed suddenly right.

It had been a long time since she’d had that feeling. She smiled. “Yes, you’re right. My painting is from instinct, though I had some formal training when I was young.”

“I read about you, you know. Looked you up on the Net.” Nana’s wise eyes settled on her as she spoke.

Lucy knew if that were the case, then she knew about the fire. “You did?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Nana studied her. “You had a hard time of it. I’m sorry. How are you doing now?”

“I’m okay,” she said, trying to figure out where to direct the conversation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought that someone could check her out online. After all, she was an artist with a bit of success. A rush of sound broke into their conversation as the back door opened and one after the other of the boys streamed down the hall and through the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how all of them would fit in the house.

As if reading her mind, Nana said, “We usually eat in the Chow Hall, but tonight is special, we’re having a guest. So it may be a tight squeeze.”

Laughter and banter filled the room as Rowdy ushered the boys into the den. His brother Morgan and his wife, Jolie, arrived and Rowdy introduced them. Not that she’d needed the introduction—their resemblance was too similar. Morgan, like Rowdy, had Nana’s direct navy eyes.

“Morgan and my dad run the business side of the foster program and the ranch. Jolie has been our schoolteacher since the beginning of the year.”

“I can’t wait to see some of your work.” Jolie’s wide smile reminded Lucy instantly of Julia Roberts, especially with her auburn hair and her expressive eyes. “I envy an artist their abilities. I’m a klutz with a brush in my hand.”

“I won’t believe that until I see it.” Lucy had the distinct impression that this lady could do anything she set her mind to. And quickly she learned it was true when Morgan told her Jolie was a champion kayaker. It was easy to see his pride in her accomplishments. Tim had always seemed threatened by her success. His greatest wish had been for her to give up her work.

Lucy was so thankful that she hadn’t done that.

Looking at Morgan and Jolie, she had to admit that she envied the bond between them. Their mutual respect spoke volumes.

They all talked about her work some—that it was in galleries and that she also sold prints. She wasn’t Thomas Kinkaid or Norman Rockwell, but she was blessed to have some recognition, giving her the ability to paint full-time.

It wasn’t long before they were all helping carry the large platters of food to the huge table in the dining area. There were so many of them that card tables had been set up to help accommodate them all.

While they were setting the table, Rowdy’s brother Tucker showed up. Introductions were made and she knew before they told her that he had been in the Special Forces. There was just something about the way he carried himself. He still wore a very close-cropped haircut she could see when he removed his Stetson and hung it on the hat rack. Rowdy’s hair was more touchable, run-your-fingers-through-it type. Where both Morgan and Tucker had serious edges to their expressions, Rowdy’s was more open, and—she searched for the right word—light was all that came to mind. Rowdy’s eyes twinkled as he wrestled on the couch with B.J. and Sammy. His infectious laughter had Lucy wanting to join in.

She brought her thoughts up short, realizing that she was comparing Rowdy’s attributes with his brothers’. She had no reason to do that.

No reason and no want to.

Frustrated by her thoughts, Lucy marched back to the kitchen in search of a plate of food to carry. She needed something constructive to do. What was wrong with her, anyway?

Chapter Five

Dinner was a loud affair. But with that many boys crammed beneath one roof, it was to be expected. Rowdy enjoyed watching Lucy’s reactions to the wild bunch. She handled herself pretty well for a newcomer. Then again, how he was handling himself was the question, as he found himself sitting next to her.