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Love Inspired January 2014(2)

By:Debra Clopton


                “I was knocking a wall out with a sledgehammer. It was a splendid feeling—until the main beam gave way and I flew over the edge like a ninny.” A nice blush fanned across her cheeks. “Talk about feeling silly—that’ll sure do it. But I am so grateful you were here. For a short person like me, that was a long drop. And that you got to me so quick. How fast are you, anyway?”

                She talked with the speed of light and Rowdy had a hard time keeping up. “Fast enough, but clearly not as fast as you talk.” He chuckled.

                “Ha, it’s a curse! I do tend to rattle on when I’ve been saved from sure disaster.” She stood up—which wasn’t all that much farther from the ground.

                Rowdy wasn’t real sure she was even five foot, and knew she wasn’t when he stood up and looked down at her. At only six feet himself, he towered over her by a good twelve inches...which would make hugging a little awkward, but hey, he could overcome.

                “I’m Lucy Calvert.” She stared up at him and held out her hand.

                Lucy. He liked it. Liked more the tingle of awareness that sparked the moment he took her small hand in his. When her eyes flared, as if she felt the same spark, his mind went blank.

                “Rowdy. Rowdy McDermott, at your service,” he said as his pulse kicked up like a stampede of wild horses.

                “Rowdy.” She slipped her hand free and tugged the edge of her collared shirt closed. Her smile faltered. “I think I may have heard my uncle mention you—I think he said your name fit you.”

                The disapproval he detected in her voice snapped him out of his infatuated fog as regret of the life he’d led twisted inside his gut. What exactly had his old neighbor said about him?

                “It fits, but in all honesty, I’m trying hard to mend my ways.”

                “Oh.” Her blue eyes dug deep. “What were you here for before I literally threw myself at you?”

                “Food,” he said, feeling off balance by the way she studied him. “My, um, my grandmother made you a casserole and I’m the delivery boy.”

                “How sweet of her.” She laid her hand on his arm and his pulse kicked again. “And of you for bringing it over.”

                Rowdy wasn’t sure he’d ever been called sweet. He looked down at her hand on his arm as that same buzz of electricity took his breath away. She turned, hips swaying and arms pumping as she headed toward the exit and left him in her dust.

                “Tell her thank you for me,” she called over her shoulder, keeping her steps lively without looking back.

                Rowdy followed.

                “Can I ask what you were doing up there knocking out walls in your barn?”

                They’d made it into the sunshine, and what had appeared to be her dark blond hair glistened like gold in the sun. She was getting better by the minute.

                “I’m starting my remodel job. I’m making an art studio up there and a wall was in my way.”

                “So you knocked it down. Do you do that with everything that gets in your way?” That got him the smile he was looking for. Trying to put her more at ease, he tucked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and assumed a relaxed stance, putting his weight on one leg.

                “I like to hope I do.”