still the wayward child, since I’m really doing this for myself. Does that make you feel any better about letting me swing away?”
“Much better. I’d hate for you to actually admit that you’re doing it because you’re a nice guy.” And he might be, even if he was a little nosy. But that didn’t stop her from being wary...not so much of him, but of the way she reacted to him.
“Me, a nice guy.” He looked skeptical, and that grin played across his face. “I don’t know about that.”
The man’s personality sparkled and drew her like his eyes and his smile, stunning her once again.
Had she truly thought she was going to go the rest of her life not finding a man attractive?
Of course not.
That her neighbor just happened to have qualities that, regrettably, reminded her that she was still a woman, meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.
* * *
She was still telling herself that when Ruby Ann McDermott, Rowdy’s grandmother, showed up at her house midmorning bearing welcome-to-Dew-Drop gifts: a basket loaded with homemade fig and strawberry preserves and green tomato relish, along with several small loaves of banana-nut bread to freeze and take out as needed, she informed Lucy.
Ruby Ann had long silver hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong features like Rowdy, along with those deep blue eyes the color of a twilight sky. She held her tall frame ramrod straight, with an elegance about the way she moved.
Two friends came along with her. The first of them, Ms. Jo, owned the Spotted Cow Café in town. Lucy had met her the day she’d first arrived. She’d had supper at the cute café after spending the day unpacking. Ms. Jo’s piercing hazel eyes seemed to take everything in from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. She wore her slate-gray hair in a soft cap of curls. Lucy felt a kindred spirit, not just from the fact that they were close to the same height. She liked the older lady’s spunk and hoped her own personality would be similar when she was nearing seventy.
Ms. Jo brought along a coconut pie that looked so mouthwateringly delicious Lucy could barely keep from diving in the instant Ms. Jo placed it in her hands.
Mabel Tilsbee, the other member of the welcoming committee, owned the Dew Drop Inn. The towering, large-boned woman with shoulder-length black hair spiced with just a few strands of gray handed over a tray of cookies that were clearly overdone. “There’s no need in me even pretending to be the best in the kitchen when the county’s best are both standing here beside me. I gave it a whirl, though.” She winked. “I got distracted and baked these a little too long. But, if you like coffee, they’re real good dunkers.”
Lucy laughed and felt instantly at home with these ladies. “Thank you all so much for coming by,” she said, leading them into the kitchen. They eyed where a wall had obviously just been knocked out.
Ruby Ann’s hand fluttered at the construction area. “Rowdy told me at breakfast this morning that he helped you do this. And that he and some of the boys will be helping you out for a little while.”
“Yes, ma’am, he did.” It was all Lucy could do not to smile at the thought of Rowdy’s brownie points. She decided to help him out. “He’s doing a great job. I worked almost two days knocking a wall out of the hayloft and half the morning just getting this wall to budge. He had it down within an hour. It was quite humiliating.”
That got a chuckle from everyone.
“All my boys are strong and know how to work,” Ruby Ann said.
“That’s the truth.” Ms. Jo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Handsome, too, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, he is.” She couldn’t deny the obvious. “I was just about to have a coffee break when y’all drove up. Please join me. I suddenly have lots of great food to choose from.”
“You know, hon—” Mabel gave her a nudge with her elbow “—that’s a great idea. I’ll slice the pie.”
Lucy headed for the cups. This move was getting better by the day.
Mabel took the knife she handed her and sliced the pie and one of the loaves of banana-nut bread, instantly filling Lucy’s kitchen with mouthwatering aromas.
She filled four mugs with coffee and in a matter of minutes they were all gathered around her kitchen table laughing and talking between bites.
An hour later, with an official invitation to dinner the next evening, she waved goodbye and was smiling as she watched her new friends drive away.
Her mother called this Nowhere, U.S.A., but to Lucy, this small town felt like home.
Turning back, she surveyed the low-slung ranch house. Three days ago, overgrown shrubs had threatened to obscure it, and one of the shutters had needed to be straightened. Not so since Wes, Joseph and Rowdy had stepped in.
Ever since she’d awakened in the hospital to discover the truth about her life, she’d been adrift and searching for something. Only her faith that God was beside her had gotten her through. And her God-given stubbornness.
From his perch on the porch railing, Moose purred, and even that from the ornery tomcat felt like a welcome—after all, he’d picked her.
“Yes, big fellow,” Lucy murmured, lifting him up and hugging him, “I do believe us two strays have found our home.”
Rowdy McDermott’s image plopped right back into her contented thoughts, settling in like a sticker poking through a sock.
Pushing the irritating worry aside, she headed inside to reread her home-repair guide on plastering a wall. She might have trust issues by the wagonload, but she was not a chicken.
She would not allow her fears to send her running.
She’d taken her first step toward starting over, and this was where she was making her stand.
Dew Drop was where Lucy Calvert took control of her life again.
Chapter Four
“Excuse me, ma’am. But you want me to do what?”
Rowdy’s lips twitched as he watched tall, lanky Joseph staring down at Lucy with a look of complete confusion. Always ready to please, the kid usually wore an affable grin, but right now he looked almost in shock. On Saturday Lucy had talked to them in-depth about what she wanted the yard to look like and they’d done a fantastic job. But they hadn’t been inside the house.
For example, they didn’t know until now that Lucy had a thing about walls. That the only good wall to her was a torn-out wall. He tugged on his ear and watched the show, enjoying every minute of it.
“I want you to take this sledgehammer,” Lucy said, “and I want you to take a whack at this wall. It’s fun! Believe me. It’s freedom in a swing.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Joseph said. “It’s just you already knocked out that wall over there, and I wasn’t sure I was hearing you right. I mean, this one’s a perfectly good wall and all.”
Wes was champing at the bit to swing the sledgehammer.
