Love Inspired January 2014(16)
“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. “Knock that dude down, bro. Or I’ll do it.”
Lucy chuckled. “I want this house opened up. It’s too closed in. I like big airy rooms with lots of light. And, fellas, I’ve got to tell you that your Texas manners are perfect. Y’all have about ma’amed me to death. But you can call me Lucy from here on out. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am—I mean, Lucy,” Joseph complied, taking the sledgehammer and grinning as he looked from it to the blue wall. “I guess I can give this a go.”
“Oh, yeah.” Wes rubbed his palms together gleefully. “Swing away, Joe.”
Rowdy’s shoulders shook in silent laughter as Joseph pulled his protective eyewear down, then reared back and swung. A large hole busted through one side of the Sheetrock into the next room. It didn’t take any more encouragement after that. The two teens started taking turns whacking away at the long wall that separated the living room from the den. The wall Rowdy had knocked out had been the divider for the kitchen and living room. What had once been three small dark rooms was now going to be one large space. He had to admit it was going to look good when it was all over with.
If she didn’t knock all the walls out. The thought had him smiling and he almost said something to set her off, even though he knew she was leaving the load-bearing wall.
“Those have got to be the sweetest boys,” she said, walking over to him. “Thank you for suggesting they come help me out. I think Joseph thought I had a few screws loose or something.”
“He’s on board now, though.” Rowdy was curious about Lucy. She was an artist, though he’d yet to see any sign of art anywhere. He suddenly wondered about that. Her house was still loaded down with boxes and the walls were bare. Probably a good thing while she was stirring up all this dust. But was there more to it? His brothers had always called him the curious one. And his curiosity was working double time on Lucy.
As if sensing he was watching her, she turned her head and met his gaze with eyes that held a hint of wariness. She looked at him often like that and it added to his curiosity. Why?
She lifted her hand to her collar and tugged it close. He’d noticed she’d done this several times before, as if self-conscious about the burn scar on her neck.
He’d wondered about the scar and what had caused it. It was obvious that whatever had happened had been painful.
Being self-conscious about anything was at odds with his image of Lucy.
“Your grandmother came by this morning with her friends. They’re a great group.” She waved toward the counter loaded with pie and cookies. “I have all kinds of goodies in there left over if you and the guys want to take a break.”
That made him laugh. In the background the pounding grew steadily, and then something crashed and the boys’ whoops rang joyfully through the house. “As you can hear, I’m not doing anything, so if you mean there’s pie in there from Ms. Jo, then I’m all in.”
She’d started smiling when the boys started whooping. She was one gorgeous woman.
“There’s pie. And, by the way, I put in a good word for you.”
She headed into the kitchen and he followed. She wore another of those oversize shirts, hot pink today, and he began to think it was an artist quirk or something. The collar brushed her jaw and the sleeves covered half her hands, they were so long. And still, as dwarfed as she was in all that cloth, he remembered the feel of her in his arms that first day.