He didn’t feel right leaving. He raised his hand to knock but let it hover just in front of the door before pulling back. Turning away, he strode to his truck and left.
Lucy had a right to her privacy.
* * *
Lucy couldn’t believe she’d opened up to Rowdy about the fire. She’d had to catch herself before she said too much. And yet she’d admitted the part that tormented her. Yes, she was angry at Tim for what he’d done. But to know that she was responsible for a person losing his life... It was unthinkable.
And then there was the scene at the burn center. His girlfriend blaming her and the horrible things she’d learned that day.
Lucy poured herself a glass of iced tea and drank half the glass, suddenly feeling parched as a desert. Then, forcing the thoughts away, she headed to the back room where she’d stored her canvas and paint supplies. It was time to think about something positive. Teaching the boys to paint appealed to her. She’d never thought of teaching before, but with this wild bunch, she was certain it was going to be an adventure.
And that was exactly what she needed.
Did it matter that they’d seen her scars? She would see tomorrow. Tony would have time to let the shock of seeing them ease and they’d move on. No big deal.
No big deal.
Rowdy’s soft gaze touching hers as he’d pulled her collar closed slipped into her thoughts. The man had been nothing but kind to her since she’d arrived—bossy and nosy, too, but kind. Her lips lifted thinking about him. Why was a guy like him still single? The question startled her.
She had come here so angry at Tim. At herself. And here was this handsome cowboy who wouldn’t go away. Of course, she could say he was just being neighborly...but that kiss had nothing neighborly written in it. Tracing a finger along the edge of an unfinished canvas, she remembered his kiss, and the feel of it came surging back and almost took her breath away.
No, neighborly was not what she’d call that kiss.
Chemistry, yes. Very much so.
And it had been a very long time since she’d felt anything like that. For two years her life had been full of pain, inside and out. Her extensive burns hadn’t been a simple fix.
God had been good to her during that time. She didn’t think she could have made it through without Him, but God hadn’t been able to fix the anger inside of her. He hadn’t been able to fix the mistrust that ate at her.
But tonight, she’d talked to Rowdy. Opened up to him in a way she hadn’t been able to do with anyone since she woke in the hospital, other than her therapist at the burn center.
She’d trusted Rowdy enough to do that.
The very idea was a breakthrough for her. Maybe God had brought her here for that reason.
Taking a deep breath, she began assessing supplies she would need tomorrow. Jolie had taken the list of paints she’d need to the art store in the larger town eighty miles away and had promised to pick up some canvases, too. Despite feeling nervous about tomorrow after all that had happened today, she went to work gathering the rest of the things she would need.
So far life here at her new home hadn’t been anything like she expected, not quiet time spent alone rehabbing her house and her soul— Nope, not that at all.
Rowdy, she had to admit, was the most unexpected. Trepidation filled her again when she thought about having opened up to him. She hadn’t told him about the scars on her body. Had let him think the scars on her arm and neck were all there was. Why had she done that?