She’d awakened thinking of the man as if she had nothing else on her mind. She padded barefooted straight to the kitchen and the strong pot of coffee that she’d set to automatically brew this morning.
Yawning, she grabbed an oversize red cup from the cabinet and filled it almost to the brim. Taking a sip of the strong black brew, she let the warmth seep through her, then loaded it with three teaspoons of sugar—one more than usual for the extra shot of energy she would need before attempting to plaster a wall today. She took another sip, sighed then headed outside to drink it on the porch. She loved the quiet of the morning.
She’d come here to clear the air and move on with her life. Knocking walls out and spending her afternoons carrying the wood to a burn pile had empowered her. True, her back ached—and she’d had a very near miss with disaster—but since arriving in Dew Drop, she’d had a blast. And now she’d found something else to do that would be fulfilling—something she needed so badly.
Still, she knew it would take time away from her own painting, which she really should get busy on as soon as she finished renovating. But she would make time for the art classes. They might actually help her regain that spark of enthusiasm she’d come here searching for.
She needed inspiration desperately.
Needed something to motivate her to pick her brushes back up.
She’d come here determined that if she got her studio just right, the joy would return. And she was still trusting that it would.
What about the cowboy?
There he was again, the big white elephant in the room. What about him?
Her cell phone rang, saving her for the moment.
Digging it out of her pocket, she glanced at the caller ID. So maybe she was wrong, she’d rather deal with the cowboy than her mom. Bracing for drama, she pushed the touch screen to accept the call.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Not the last time I checked.” Lucy concentrated on keeping her tone light, having long ago grown numb to the melodrama.
“Then why are you living at that dump in the middle of nowhere? You’ve come a long way, Lucy, after what that jerk did to you.” Lucy held back a retort. Her mother had no room to call names, having put Lucy’s father through basically the same thing that Tim had put Lucy through, only her mother had been an open book. But Nicole didn’t see the two as the same thing; everything she did felt justified in her mind.
“Mom, we’ve been through this. I want to be here. I’m loving it.”
“Your father should have stopped this—”
“I’m twenty-six years old and plenty old enough to make my own choices.” Without being dragged through guilt trips and hysterics.
There was a long, exaggerated sigh on the other end of the line. “I never said you weren’t capable of making your own choices.” Nicole’s voice dripped with emotion. “But what if I need you?”
And there was the whole gist of the conversation. Lucy fought off her own exaggerated sigh. “Mother, you are forty-seven years old—”
“Forty-four,” her mother corrected.
Nicole had shaved off three years of her age a few years back. Just knocked them off and somehow didn’t think anyone would notice. It wasn’t worth arguing over. “The thing is, Mom, I moved here to start fresh. I am going to be fine and so are you. After all, you have Alberto.”
“There you go again not paying attention to me. His name is Alonzo and no, I don’t have him anymore.”
Her mother was destined for unhappiness. The one good man she’d ever married had been Lucy’s dad, and Nicole had kicked him to the curb years ago. And when Lucy’s dad had had the audacity to fall in love and remarry—and be happy—Nicole had made it her life goal to try to make his life miserable.
Lucy had been the pawn her mother used most of the time in that quest. As a girl Lucy had suffered because of it and trusted no one with her heart until Tim. A bad move on her part—he and her mother were two of a kind.
“Mom, did you have a reason for this call?” Lucy asked, not happy about being reminded of what she wanted so much to escape.
She was ready to get to work and be done with this bad start to a good day.
“There you go being negative. Can’t a mother just call to check on her child?”
Sure she could, but then Nicole wasn’t a normal mother. There was always a reason for her call.
“Yes, she can.” Lucy waited.
“Well, there is one thing,” Nicole said, as if suddenly thinking of something. “Now that I’ve got you on the line. You still have your condo in Plano, right?”
“Yes.” She hadn’t put her condo on the market yet, wanting to make certain she wanted to stay here in Dew Drop.
“Great, then I’m sure you won’t mind if I stay at your place for a while. I’ve moved out of Alonzo’s place and...”
So that was it. “Yes, Mother. That will be fine. You know where the key is.” And that was that.
Her mother made a quick ending to the call after she’d gotten what she wanted. Lucy held the phone for a minute, staring at it as she realized her bond with her mother was as blank as the screen. There was a time when she’d longed for more, but then she’d faced facts and knew it would never be more than it was now.
Standing, she looked about her new property. Her sweet uncle had wanted her to find that missing link here on this property and among the folks of Dew Drop. And maybe with her neighbors at Sunrise Ranch. He always had been a perceptive man.
Breathing in the fresh air, Lucy headed toward the barn to find her sledgehammer—the hunk of metal had become her new best friend and she was smiling as she walked along.
Moose appeared, weaving between her feet and arching his back as he rubbed his furry orange body against her leg.
“You and me, Moose,” she said, bending to tickle him between his ears. She had things to do. There was no time to waste on areas of her life she had no intention of opening up again.
Here she might have to figure out how to maneuver around her new neighbor, but her mother had just reminded her of the circus her life could be back home and what her uncle had known or hoped she would find on this property.
She could deal with a certain happy-go-lucky cowboy if she must in order to keep her feeling of contentment. Her mother could have Lucy’s condo for all she cared.
* * *
What had he been thinking?
Stalking to the burn pile, Rowdy carried the guts of yet another wall that Lucy had decided needed to bite the dust. At this point he’d begun to really worry about the woman’s brain. This wall wasn’t connected to the living room/kitchen area or he would have put his foot down. This wall happened to be on the upper floor of the house between two small bedrooms that she’d decided needed to be one larger room. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the woman liked open space.
Or, he had begun to wonder, perhaps she really did just love to knock out walls. Maybe it was a disorder of some kind.
“Calamity Lucy’s at it again,” Wes said as he walked up. “I’m thinking we’re going to have to talk her into leaving something standing in there or her house is gonna fall right on top of her.”
“He might be right, Rowdy. Aren’t you worried?” Joseph asked. “I mean, that’s three walls. And I think she has her eye on the one beside her bedroom downstairs. I think I heard her muttering something about closet space.”
Rowdy tossed his armload on the pile, stripped off his gloves and rested his hands on his hips. “I know it seems crazy, but it is her house, fellas. And to her credit, she hasn’t knocked a wall out yet that would cause the house to cave in.” For that he was grateful. He didn’t tell the guys, but at the rate she was going it was only a matter of time before those were the only walls left, and then...who knew?
Wes rubbed his neck and squinted at Rowdy in the sun. “I guess it’s good we’re here to talk her off the ledge if she decides to get really crazy with the sledgehammer.”
The kid had been ambling around nursing what looked to be a sore hip and a sore neck. Rowdy wondered again about whether he was bull riding. He’d asked about the hip and Wes had said he’d had a run-in with a steer. Logical answer...and maybe not the lie Rowdy suspected it was.
If his dad or his brothers suspected anything, none of them were saying. Maybe it would be better just to turn his head the other way and leave it be. As soon as the school year ended in six weeks, the kid was free to do as he pleased per the state. In all truth, he could do it now, but thankfully college was in Wes’s plans.
Sunrise Ranch didn’t cut the foster kids loose when the state did. Once they were here at the ranch, they were family and treated as such. Wes and Joseph were both graduating with scholarships to college. Joseph was heading off to become a vet and Wes was looking at an education in agriculture.
Rowdy pushed the thoughts away. He was probably worried about nothing. Looking at his watch, he saw it was nearing time for rodeo practice. “Hey, why don’t y’all head back now? I’ll go see if Lucy is ready to start practice tonight and be there soon. Tell Morg for me, okay?”
“Sure thing, Rowdy.” Joseph nodded toward the house. “I think she might be a little worried about it.”
Rowdy gave the kindhearted teen a smile. “I’ll make sure she knows we’re all going to take good care of her.”
“I have a feeling she’s tougher than she looks,” Wes said. “Did either of you glimpse that burn on her neck?”
So they’d seen it, too. Since he’d seen it the other day, he was aware of it. He’d caught glimpses of it when she was busy working and forgot to tug her collar tight.
“I wondered if y’all had noticed,” he said.
Joseph nodded. “I don’t think she wants people to see it, though. Kind of like Tony not wanting to go without his shirt.”
It was true. Tony had been badly mistreated by his parents before the state took him away from them and brought him to the ranch. His background was like nothing any kid should have to go through and he had scars to prove it. Bad scars that made Rowdy’s stomach curl thinking about them.
“Maybe we can keep this between us, then,” he said, immediately getting agreement from them. “I appreciate it, guys.”
They headed toward the ranch truck as he headed toward the house. When he heard the distinct whack of a sledgehammer, he picked up his pace.
What could she be tearing out now?
Wes and Joseph’s laughter followed him as he took the porch steps in a single stride and pulled open the screen door. Calamity Lucy they were calling her—he had to agree at this point. The woman had to stop. Getting her out of this house and involved in something else, even if it was wild-cow milking, was just the thing she needed.