“Okay, that does it. Put the sledgehammer down.”
Lucy spun at Rowdy’s irritated growl. “What do you think you’re doing?” she gasped when he grabbed the tool. She hung on to the handle with all she had.
“I’m stopping you from destroying your house. Do you realize this is the fourth wall you’ve knocked out? Five, if you count the one in the barn.”
“I can count, you know,” she snapped. “And it’s my house,” she added indignantly, yanking hard on the sledgehammer. The irritating man yanked right back, slamming Lucy up against him with only the hammer between them.
“Let go, Lucy.”
She glared up at him. “I will not!” The man had been working for her all afternoon and she’d been trying not to think about how every time he looked at her she forgot all about not wanting a man in her life.
Holding the handle with one hand, he covered her hands with the other. The work-roughened feel of them caused goose bumps on her arms.
His lip twitched at the corners as he stared down at her. “You sure are pretty when your eyes are shooting fireworks. I’m kinda growing fond of it.”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. What had this man done to her?
One minute they were staring at each other, and then he lowered his head and kissed her. How dare he....
Goodness... The dreamy chant began ringing through her head as his lips melded with hers.
You’re a fool, a fool, a fool, the small voice of sanity began to scream. Tearing her lips away from his, she put footage between them. “Why did you do that?”
His brows had crinkled together over teasing eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do it from the first day you dropped into my arms. And you know it. I’ve seen you looking at me, too.”
Her jaw dropped. “You don’t have a clue what I want. Or don’t want.” That he had her pegged did not make her feel good. “I don’t want a man. I don’t need a man. And certainly not one who kisses me right out of the blue like that.” Well, it had been nice— She told the voice in her head to take a hike!
Rowdy stared at her as if she’d grown two heads or something. “Look,” he said at last. “I kissed you. I’m sorry. I told you I was trying to mend my ways and you’re right, I went and kissed you and I shouldn’t have.”
“Aha! So you freely admit that kissing women is a regular pastime for you. It just goes to show you that men are all despicable.” The words just flowed out in a rush. “And another thing,” she flung at him when suddenly it hit her that he was still looking at her as though she’d clearly lost her marbles.
She swallowed hard and prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her. How horribly embarrassing.
The clock on the wall in the next room could be heard in the silence that stretched between them.
“Are you okay?” Rowdy asked gently.
She couldn’t look at him as she nodded.
“I’m really sorry. I overstepped myself and you’re right. I was way out of line. It won’t happen again.”
He was actually apologizing to her. What a concept. When had Tim ever done that? Only when he’d wanted something...or when she’d figured out he’d done something he hadn’t wanted her to find out about. The sleaze.
“Look.” Rowdy held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not sure what your problem is, but if it will make you feel better, I’ll leave.” He turned to go and it was then that she realized she’d been glaring at him the whole time.
The man had to think she was a complete loon.
Stomach churning, she ran after him and caught him on the porch. The sun hung low on the horizon behind him. “Rowdy, wait. I might have overreacted.”
At her quiet words he halted and turned back to her. “Maybe. But, hey, if my kiss drove you to it, then I guess that’s a good thing. Only I get the feeling what’s going on here goes a whole lot deeper than my kissing. Right?”
She owed him, so she nodded. “It’s a long story.”
“Look, I have a feeling you’re not comfortable sharing whatever it is with me. Especially now. But how about getting out of the house to practice for the rodeo?”
She had to shut down the sudden impulse to spill everything to him. Working with him was one thing— confessing to him was another. But she had made him feel terribly bad—at least it seemed that way—and she had signed on for this wild-cow milking. “Okay, that sounds like a plan,” she said.
He waved a hand toward his truck. “In that case, your chariot awaits you. And I promise to stay on my side of the truck, behind the steering wheel.”
Feeling more foolish than ever, Lucy pushed her hair behind her ear, contemplated changing her mind and then followed him to his truck.
* * *
“First things first. Do you know how to milk a cow?”
Lucy blinked blankly at him, and Rowdy took that as a no even before she confirmed what he’d figured out.
“Um, I can’t say that I’ve ever had the need to know how to milk a cow.”
Rowdy was having trouble concentrating. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Hadn’t meant to. He was a yahoo, a buffoon, an idiot. That was for certain. He’d swallowed the woman up as if she was sweet tea on a hot afternoon, and then he’d lost his mind in the process. He just didn’t think straight around her.
He knew that now.
The thing was, he liked Lucy and he couldn’t seem to do anything but want to get to know her better. But if he’d thought there was something bothering her before, he knew it was true now. Not that he was God’s gift to women or anything, but she’d responded to him and then shoved him away as though he was Jack the Ripper.
What was her story? Something had happened to cause this leeriness.
She had a mistrust of men. And he wanted to know why.
The best way to do that was to get to know her, and teaching her to milk a cow was one more way to do that.
“So this isn’t a milk cow.” It wasn’t a question but an observation on her part. She bit her lip—he fought to focus—and she studied the mama cow in the holding pen. “Aren’t mama cows dangerous?”
“Yes, they are when their calf is around. They’re not to be toyed with, and you need to know what you’re doing so you can get in there and get out. Okay?”
She rolled her gorgeous eyes. “I’m thinking this is the craziest stunt I’ve ever agreed to.”
He chuckled. “I hope so, because it is kind of crazy.”
“Then why are you allowing the kids to do it?”
“They’re ranch kids. Other kids skateboard on rails and jump bikes over holes and ramps. Ranch kids get in the arena with cattle.”
She crossed her arms tight and glared at the cow that stood contently in the pen. He knew as well as she did when she started after the cow’s udder things would change in an instant.
“Look, I don’t want you to get hurt. The thing is the older teens know what they’re doing. This isn’t for little kids. You have to remember, one will have her head, and one will control her tail and one will be helping the boy holding the head. I’ll be helping you get to the udder. They’ll have her stretched out and it won’t be as dangerous as it could be. You just have to look out for her feet, and I mean it. Watch them. Now I’m going to call the boys over and we’re going to demonstrate.”
“Fine. You do that.”
He almost chuckled at the way she was fighting her fear. He’d learned that she wasn’t one to back down.
Rowdy liked that. Respected it.
* * *
“Okay, you need to hold your hand like this, like you are going to shake my hand.”
Lucy watched Rowdy hold his hand out with his fingers together and his thumb slightly separated from them. She copied him, trying hard not to think about the kiss. But it was a little bit distracting— Okay, it was a lot distracting.
She held her hand as he was and then looked skeptically at him. “Then what?”
“Then you grab here at the top,” he explained. “No pulling like you see in the movies. Just clamp it between the fingers and push gently upward. Milk will come. Remember, in the competition, you need a few drops.”
How hard could it be?
“And then you run.”
She glared at him. “Thanks. Thanks for letting me get myself into this. If the boys don’t want to paint, then I wonder why I’m doing this?”
“Sometimes even if a boy is curious about trying new things, he needs an excuse to do it. Painting isn’t the most macho thing for these guys to do, so you getting in the ring with this cow gives them the excuse because you called their bluff. Get it?”
She did, actually. “Yes. So now I know.” And she couldn’t back down even if everything in her warned her to run now. As she looked at Rowdy, her stomach felt off-kilter and she wondered if the warning was for her to run from him instead.
“So do we have a regular milk cow somewhere that I can practice on?”
He chuckled. “Sorry, we’re not in the milk-cow business. You’re going to have to test it out on Betsy Lou here.”
“Why does this not surprise me?”
“Hey, Wes, Joseph, y’all come on over.” He’d sent the boys to practice with Morgan on the other end of the arena and now, at his call, the entire group came running. It looked as though she was about to be the show for the day.
Morgan rode his horse over behind the boys. She liked Morgan—he seemed to be a rock, and as steadfast as they came. She had a feeling—just from all the responsibility that he carried on his shoulders—that if a man could be trusted, Morgan McDermott would be that man. Rowdy’s boyish grin tickled her memory.
Could Rowdy be trusted?
No. He was too reckless. Too good-time Rowdy. Not that anyone had told her this, but she knew in her heart that he was. Tim had had that same look. His smile came too easily and it teased too often.
The boys who weren’t on the team climbed to the top of the arena rails. They looked so cute sitting up there. Wes, Joseph and Tony climbed between the rungs and sauntered her way.
“We’ll take care of the cow,” Wes said, looking cocky, and Lucy believed he would.
“We’re going to let you learn here in the small pen. So I won’t have to rope her, the boys will just grab her and then I’ll move into place and tell you when to make your move.”
She nodded. “Gotcha.”
“Okay, then, let’s get this party started. Fellas, it’s all yours.”
They whooped like she’d learned they were prone to do, then dived at the cow so fast it didn’t have time to make a break for it. Wes grabbed the head and Tony joined him. Joseph grabbed the cow’s tail. They all grinned at her as the cow let out a “Maaawwww” that sounded like a battle cry.
“Let’s go. Follow my lead and watch out for the back leg. I’ll get the milk first, so watch closely.”
Was he kidding? She kept him squarely between her and the cow as she crept behind him. He whipped out the jar that was supposed to hold the milk, and as she watched he raced into the danger zone and reached for an udder.
It was udderly unbelievable. Funny, Lucy, you’re a real riot.
“You do it like this,” he called, bending toward the moving target. The boys were holding the cow, but she was bigger than them and not standing still. Rowdy displayed the milk in the clear jar as he moved back beside her.
“Piece of cake. You can do it.”
“Yeah, go for it, Lucy!” the kids called from the fence.
Praying she didn’t lose her lunch, she was so nervous, Lucy grabbed the jar and headed toward the cow with Rowdy beside her. “Piece of cake, my foot,” she quipped, making herself smile for the kids. Hunching down, she reached toward the udder. When she slipped her hand in, the cow moved as she grabbed hold and milk shot her in the face.
Spitting and blinking, she scrambled to hang on. The cow bellowed and sidestepped, taking the boys with her. Lucy didn’t let go, but lost her balance and fell forward, hitting the cow in the belly before planting herself face-first in the dirt! The cow bucked, kicked its leg out then stepped on her arm. Then her shoulder. Pain seared through her and Lucy would have screamed but her face was plastered two inches deep in smelly arena dirt.