Debra Clopton - Dream a Little Dream

Molly’s mouth fell open. “Hey, most men would love to have a beautiful young woman chasing after them. And besides, I did hear you say, right there in Sam’s Diner, that you’d specifically bought your own ranch so that you would be ready when the Lord sent you a wife. You said that you were going to step out on faith and show the Lord you knew He had someone special out there for you. You said you were going to settle down and get prepared.”

Bob frowned and yanked his hat off again. Those distracting dark curls drew her attention once more and Molly found her gaze lingering there, until he moved his head and his navy eyes slammed into hers. “I said that to Clint Matlock in confidence. You were eavesdropping—”

“Eavesdropping! Are you kidding! You were sitting in Sam’s diner. Everyone heard you say it.”

“That may be true.” He gritted the words through barely moving lips. “Still,” he snapped, on a second wind, an angry wind, “it doesn’t give you the right to think you can plunk me in the middle of your stories like a poster boy for some lonely cowboys foundation. I said I was getting ready for the wife God was going to send me. What makes you think God needs your help? Because I certainly don’t.”

“Now that’s not fair. God’s using me.”

“And you’re using me.”

That tripped her up for a moment. True, her column had been picked off the wire by a huge number of newspapers across the country. The interest in what was happening in Mule Hollow was a phenomenon! Though she’d already gained some praise and recognition for one of her personal segment articles prior to moving to Mule Hollow, and her magazine article sales had been enough to help pay the bills with their meager success, the Mule Hollow phenomenon had put her on the map. After she’d seen the ad and decided to relocate here and started her column about Mule Hollow, well, things had been great. Everyone was interested in the dying little town that had done a national ad campaign for wannabe wives.

Even magazines that never had given her the time of day were suddenly interested in what she had to say—on the subject of Mule Hollow as well as other topics. It was a dream come true. She couldn’t deny it.

Of course, in the big world of media Molly realized only her pinky toe was in the door and the overnight recognition could be gone in a flash. But to say that she was using him…well, it sounded so wrong. “It’s a win-win situation,” she said in her defense—and it was true. “I get the recognition I need to move up in my career while you and the other fellas get invaluable exposure that will lead would-be wives to our little town. I’m helping you fulfill your dream.”

Looking at Bob sent her own heart into that all-too-familiar jig. The Bob jig, as she referred to it. The guy didn’t even know the effect he had on women, which was part of his appeal. He wasn’t a spotlight kind of man. He was a little shy about all the recognition he was getting. That was what the fuss was really about, she reassured herself.

She knew he realized her work was helping Mule Hollow. There was life in the little town now, when only months ago the place had been dead. The fact that Adela Ledbetter, Norma Sue Jenkins and Esther Mae Wilcox had put in motion a plan to revive their beloved town had ultimately led to the influx of husband-hunting women. Molly was meant to be here. Her help was crucial. The fact that her articles had caused a young woman like Cassie, without home or family, to hitchhike to Mule Hollow in the hope of finding what she’d never had…brought tears to Molly’s eyes.

For her, it had been Lacy Brown—now Lacy Matlock—who’d inspired her to move to the town and change her life.

The wacky hairdresser had recognized her mission in life when she’d read the first ad and instantly moved to Mule Hollow to open her salon and help bring life to the town. She’d believed, and rightly so, that the women would read the ads about a bunch of lonesome cowboys and that they would come. And she’d believed they would want to look good while trying to find the right cowboy. But most important, she believed that while they were getting all spruced up in her salon, she would be able to witness to them.

And it was happening. Molly had been the first person Lacy had talked to about the Lord. That conversation had changed her life.

Molly had accepted the Lord into her life and begun to build a personal relationship with Him that very day. She was stumbling all the way, but trying, as Lacy had shown her by example, to put God first in everything she did. Not an easy thing to do. Especially when someone like Bob didn’t fully appreciate the good she was striving to accomplish. The man had said he wanted a wife. She was simply trying to help him!

And she wouldn’t do that for all the bachelors. Oh no, some of these cowboys were lonesome for good reasons! No ambition, partying all the time, not an ounce of respect for a lady…but the ones like Bob—especially Bob—were wonderful guys and she only wanted to help.

Her thoughts whirring, she met his dubious stare straight on, his denial ringing in her ears. He might not think he needed her help, but God had called her to Mule Hollow for a reason. Maybe at first coming to the quaint little town had been about career strategy, but that had lasted about a week. She had started seeing things differently the instant the Lord entered her heart.

Women out there needed good men.

Decent men.

And that fundamental realization had set off a light bulb in her brain. It didn’t take long to see Mule Hollow was packed full of wonderful, God-loving men. And like Lacy kept telling her, God had His reasons for bringing her here. What better reason than to use her talents to showcase the good guys? Lead the women to water as Norma Sue was fond of saying. So that was what she was doing before she moved on to her next step up the ladder of success. She’d been showcasing all the cowboys. She couldn’t help it that readers loved Bob.

“Well,” Bob said, bringing her wandering brain back to the present. “God might be using you, but, like I said, I’m not in need of your services. The conversation I had with Clint was none of your business.”

She expelled a slow breath, fighting the urge to glare at him. “I’m only trying to help,” she reiterated, starting to feel nervous. Really nervous.

He met and held her gaze with one that said he disagreed. She narrowed her eyes, refusing to back down. She couldn’t. She truly hadn’t done anything wrong. Had she?

His eyes narrowed to mirror hers then suddenly the skin where his dimple would appear if he smiled started quivering, as if it was going to give way and turn into a smile at any moment. Molly breathed a sigh of relief. She just might be off the hook.

“Look Molly, really, I know you haven’t meant any harm. I know you think you’re helping me, and you’re certainly helping Mule Hollow. There is no denying that it’s been put on the map through your articles. But I’m done. I want out. Do you understand?” He dropped his chin to his chest then looked straight at her.

Molly’s throat went dry and she tried to swallow the lump that had lodged there. The acid in her stomach attacked the inner walls as she tried to digest Bob’s words.

No way around it. Her boat had a hole in it.

Bob engaged the gears and guided the truck back onto the road. When he started whistling softly to himself, Molly blinked and started fidgeting with a loose thread on the seam of her jeans. That was Bob. The good-hearted guy who was going to make some lucky woman a wonderful husband was back to being himself again. Just like that, he’d forgiven her for what he thought was an intrusion on his life.

Just like that, he thought all was well, everything fixed.