“It’s a blast,” the blond mischief maker said. “There’s a team of five and one of them is the ‘milker’ and one is the roper. While the other team members catch and control the wild cow, the milker gets the milk, then runs it to the finish line. It’s a hoot and a half.”
“Yeah, a hoot and a half,” B.J. echoed. “You gonna do it?” His big dark eyes were wide with wonder and expectation.
Though Lucy had sudden qualms about the wild-cow part, she swallowed her trepidation and nodded. “Sure I am. I’m game for anything.”
From the end of the table, Randolph joined the conversation. “For safety’s sake, I’m going to venture in here and require you to have some experience under your belt before you jump out there and try it. Rowdy can be in charge of that. What do you say, Rowdy?”
Lucy’s spirits sank like the Titanic. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure about this great idea. She’d already allowed Rowdy to help with her construction. She’d realized tonight that she wasn’t comfortable being in his company overly much. The man made her nervous—he affected her in ways that she’d rather not think about. Now this....
“Sure,” Rowdy said beside her. “We’ll figure something out.”
It hit her that he didn’t sound all that enthusiastic about the idea, either. As she turned to him, her arm brushed his. Tingles of awareness like an expanding spiderweb etched across her body.
“Good,” Randolph said. “In that case, I’ll look forward to seeing you in the competition.”
“Sure.” Lucy’s voice was as weak as the smile she mustered up.
How had this happened?
B.J. tugged at her sleeve and she turned to him, glad to have a distraction from Rowdy. “We’re gonna have fun.” He dragged the word fun out for miles.
Lucy liked his positive thinking, but she wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
Chapter Six
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.