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.
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.”
“I’d like to see some myself,” Rowdy said, more than ever wanting to see her work.
“Sure,” she said, their eyes meeting. Tearing his eyes away from hers, he gave his undivided attention to his pot roast. He liked his neighbor, it was true, but he had horses to train, boys to coach for the upcoming ranch-rodeo benefit and a cattle business to run at the same time. He had committed to helping sassy Lucy Calvert do a little remodeling, but that was it.
For now, anyway. He’d had the tendency to date women who were drama queens—partly because they were usually really good-looking and that seemed to be his downfall—not that he was proud of any of it, but he couldn’t deny it. Maybe this attraction he was feeling toward Lucy was because she seemed to be the complete opposite of that.
He’d made a commitment to himself and the Lord. Women were off-limits. Until the Lord showed him the right woman, he wasn’t making a move. No matter what.
“Lucy, I’ve been sitting here thinking and I’ve just had this crazy idea,” Jolie said, leaning close to the table in her excitement and taking the heat off of Rowdy. “Would you consider teaching the boys a brief art class? Just a class or maybe two a week for five or six weeks?”
Startled by his sister-in-law’s proposal, Rowdy swung his head to the side and saw that Lucy was just as startled. Then her eyes lit up as if she’d just been plugged into an electric outlet.
“I’d love to do that!” she exclaimed.
He held in a groan and knew right then and there that he was in trouble. “But you have your hands full of projects,” he protested before he could stop himself. Every eye at the table slammed into him and he knew he should have kept his stinkin’ mouth shut.
Test me, oh Lord—there was no denying it. None at all. God obviously got a real kick out of giving exams.
* * *
What had she just done? Lucy toyed with the collar of her shirt. She’d just committed to teaching the boys of Sunrise Ranch art lessons. The very idea sent shock through her, but excitement at the same time. She was going to teach an art class. And she was going to do it for these boys. It hit her suddenly that maybe this was what she was looking for. What she needed right now, a way to make her feel as if she was making a difference—her way of giving something back. Of paying it forward, so to speak.
This was her shot. It would be great!
“Whoa, there, you mean we’re going to have to paint pictures?” The shock on Wes’s face equaled that of being told he was going to participate in a ballet and it brought her excitement up short.
Cowboys obviously didn’t do ballet or painting.
Joseph’s eyes widened with worry, too. And with the two obvious leaders of the group balking at the idea, looks of excitement began giving way to looks of skepticism.
“Some of the greatest artists in the world are men,” Lucy assured them, suddenly really wanting to do this. “Western art is a fantastic art form and I’d love to see if we have any future talent in this room with me.”
Jolie jumped in to help. “Fellas, you’ll have fun with this. Lucy and I will figure out projects you will enjoy. I promise.”
Wes got a twinkle in his eyes. “I think if we have to paint, then Lucy needs to have to help us in the wild-cow-milking competition.”
Excited chatter and agreements erupted about the room. Rowdy joined in the laughter beside her.
Well, she could have a good time, too. “Sure, I’d do that. I can learn to milk a cow.”
Nana had been fairly quiet during the conversation, clearly enjoying listening, but now she chuckled. “Lucy, you’re a good sport and true Sunrise Ranch material. But, to be fair, I think someone needs to explain the whole concept to you before you commit.”
“That might be a good idea,” Morgan agreed from across the table. “Jolie loves this sort of thing, but not all women do.”
Instantly the competitive side of Lucy lit up. She might not be as tall and athletically built as Jolie, but she was certain that she could milk a cow. How hard could it be? “I’m sure it will be fun,” she said.
“It is,” Jolie told her. “Still, Wes, maybe you should explain this since it was your idea.”
“It’s a blast,” the blond mischief maker said. “There’s a team of five and one of them is the ‘milker’ and one is the roper. While the other team members catch and control the wild cow, the milker gets the milk, then runs it to the finish line. It’s a hoot and a half.”
“Yeah, a hoot and a half,” B.J. echoed. “You gonna do it?” His big dark eyes were wide with wonder and expectation.
Though Lucy had sudden qualms about the wild-cow part, she swallowed her trepidation and nodded. “Sure I am. I’m game for anything.”
From the end of the table, Randolph joined the conversation. “For safety’s sake, I’m going to venture in here and require you to have some experience under your belt before you jump out there and try it. Rowdy can be in charge of that. What do you say, Rowdy?”
Lucy’s spirits sank like the Titanic. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure about this great idea. She’d already allowed Rowdy to help with her construction. She’d realized tonight that she wasn’t comfortable being in his company overly much. The man made her nervous—he affected her in ways that she’d rather not think about. Now this....
“Sure,” Rowdy said beside her. “We’ll figure something out.”
It hit her that he didn’t sound all that enthusiastic about the idea, either. As she turned to him, her arm brushed his. Tingles of awareness like an expanding spiderweb etched across her body.
“Good,” Randolph said. “In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing you in the competition.”
“Sure.” Lucy’s voice was as weak as the smile she mustered up.
How had this happened?
B.J. tugged at her sleeve and she turned to him, glad to have a distraction from Rowdy. “We’re gonna have fun.” He dragged the word fun out for miles.
Lucy liked his positive thinking, but she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.