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Authors: Debra Clopton

Tags: #Romance, #Debra Clopton

BOOK: The Trouble With Lacy Brown
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That, or she was just plain crazy. Why else would she load up and move to a strange town? Clint was of the opinion that anyone who’d drive that awful pink convertible had to be a tad soft in the brains. But he kept his mouth shut and cranked on the wire stretcher in the hopes that his foreman might get the idea and get back to work.

He didn’t.

“Norma Sue said she was more excited about this crazy scheme of theirs than they were. Said, she, Adela and Esther had been a bit worried until they talked to Lacy.” He paused, thoughtfully twisting the tip of his mustache. “I don’t know Clint, but I’m of a mind to think this could get pretty entertaining.”

Clint snorted. Finished with the fence he stripped off his gloves and strode toward his truck. “Roy Don,” he said, tossing the wire stretcher into the bed of the truck, “things could also get out of hand. Lacy Brown looked like trouble to me. Trouble with a capital
T.

Chapter Three

O
n her third morning in Mule Hollow, Lacy decided to get her routine started right away. The sun was just waking up again and the dew was thick on the grass. Standing on the front porch of the cute frame house Norma Sue had arranged for them to rent, Lacy slowly went through her stretches preparing for her morning jog. The house was in the country down a dirt road all by itself, surrounded by endless green pastures. Birds were twittering and bees were humming around a wonderfully fragrant honeysuckle vine that wove around a post at the corner of the yard. The place was lovely.

Pausing in her stretch, Lacy bowed her head in prayer.
Thank you, Lord, for bringing me to this wonderful town. You know my heart and I pray that You will use me for Your glory. But once more I pray let this be about You and not about me. Teach me patience and
meekness…put tape on my mouth if You have to. Let Your will be done. Amen.

Energy filled Lacy as she jogged down the dirt road. She’d already started exploring the town last night in her own special way—midnight cruises in her convertible. There was nothing better than a late-night drive. But now, she had this quiet dirt road just outside her door perfect for jogging and meditating.

Looking up, she was filled with more peace as the trees laced their branches into a canopy above her and sunlight filtered through in bright shafts of light leading a pathway along the road. A few more feet and she burst from the trees and into a section where cattle-speckled pasture land was separated from the road by thin wire. A few lifted their heads as she passed them, then returned to breakfast.

She hadn’t gone too far when the most pitiful wail she’d ever heard jolted her from her thoughts. She stopped running and scanned the surrounding land for the site of the terrible sound, “Maww”. It came again just as she spotted a tiny, white-faced calf struggling in the grass. It was in obvious distress as it fought to get up. The mother cow paced back and forth behind the calf, no less upset. Lacy moved to the fence, unsure how to handle the situation, but knowing she couldn’t keep going without doing something. The cow cried out mournfully. It was such hopeless sound. Lacy climbed through the wire fence before she could stop herself.

She didn’t have the vaguest idea of what to do, but she was the only person around. She couldn’t pass on by.

As she approached, Mama Cow turned fearful eyes toward her. Pushing away her own fear, Lacy eased farther into the pasture, leaving behind the safety of the fence. “Relax, pretty lady. I just want to see what’s wrong with your sweet baby. Her crying is making my heart ache.”

As if to say hurry, the baby cried louder and its mama grew more agitated, swinging her head from side to side. At close range Lacy was surprised at how tiny the calf was. She didn’t know much about cows and things, but this poor baby couldn’t be too old, maybe a few days, or even just a few hours old. What she did know was that it was very weak. Its hoof was caught between two small tree stumps and ants were crawling all over it.

“Oh, you poor baby,” Lacy gasped. Time was of the essence. Everyone knew that in Texas you didn’t mess around with fire ants. They would kill the calf if she didn’t act quickly. Keeping one eye on the babe, she yanked her sweatshirt off, thankful she’d worn it and a tank top to jog in today because she needed something to dust the ants off the baby. As she edged toward the calf the mama snorted and lowered her head. Lacy had seen bull riding on television, and if her hunches were right, this was probably a universal stance of war among all cattle breeds.

“Whoa there, girl. I’ve risked my life with your mama cow over there, the least you can do is give a girl a chance.” Lacy prayed Mama wouldn’t charge with her baby between them, so she quickly moved behind the crying calf.

Not wasting any time, she swatted the calf. This startled the calf, who bellowed in terror, causing Mama to paw the earth angrily. Lacy did not like the look gleaming in her deceptively calm eyes and dusted harder and faster. Mama stepped forward. Growing anxious Lacy grasped the calf’s leg then, trying to be careful, she yanked it free, lost her balance and she and the baby tumbled backward. When she hit the ground she found herself lying with the baby sprawled on top of her.

Not thinking about protection, she gently pushed the babe off of her and stood. “You are a heavy little fella,” she said, not liking the pain in the little guy’s eyes. Bending forward, she gently rubbed him between his huge brown eyes then ran her hands down his body flicking off the last of the ants.

From behind her she heard a very angry snort.

Lacy’s heart slammed into her throat. Spinning around she found herself facing a furious mama cow, who was glaring at her. The mixed up mama was pawing the ground and thrashing her head from side to side. Uneasy, Lacy stepped back, glancing around the pasture, she searched for an escape.

Then, mad-cow-Mama charged!

 

Clint urged his horse forward as he neared the front pasture. It was a still, quiet morning that promised to be another scorching Texas day in July. Heat simmered about him, causing a thin film of perspiration to bead across his brow. It was his kind of morning.

He respected everything there was about the way God had created summer in Texas. If ridden right you had no problems, ridden wrong you suffered consequences. He’d learned at an early age to work while the day was young, take your time while the sun was high and finish your chores as the sun moved west. This morning he was looking for a missing pregnant heifer due to drop her calf at any time. He wanted to move her closer to the house, so he could help with the delivery if needed. Clint enjoyed the birthing process; it made him smile.

And those didn’t come easy to Clint.

Approaching the tree line separating the two pastures, he was alarmed when a shrieking scream filled the calm morning air. By the mere flick of his heel Clint sent his horse galloping through the pine trees just in time to see a tiny woman sprinting across his pasture. An angry cow was right on her tail.

Now, seeing a woman racing about his land wasn’t a normal everyday sight. However, when he realized it was Lacy Brown burning rubber in his pasture, he wasn’t surprised. Nothing this woman could do would shock Clint.

His horse, always ready for a chase, easily cleared the fence and took up pursuit of the two ladies. Like lightning and thunder, they were close together, striking out toward a lone tree in the center of the clearing.

“Get behind the tree,” he yelled, even though he didn’t think Lacy Brown in her obvious terror could hear him.

And then, just when he thought she would be trampled, Lacy took a flying leap, grasped a tree limb and swung effortlessly up into the tree branches.

Clint pulled his horse to an abrupt halt, disbelieving what he’d just witnessed. He pushed his hat back on his forehead and scratched his temple. That tree limb looked to be about seven feet off the ground. Her athletic lunge had looked like that of a seasoned acrobat.

“Whew, that was close,” she gasped from above, clearly out of breath.

As he stared in bewildered silence, she pushed a branch out of her way and peered out at him.

“Am I glad you showed up,” she panted. “I thought I was done for. Can you do anything with that cow?”

Clint pushed his hat back farther. “That depends, Miss Brown, on what
you
are doing here in my pasture at the crack of dawn?”

“Your pasture? I thought this belonged to Norma Sue’s boss.” Her eyes widened and she shifted on her perch.

“I am Norma Sue’s boss.”

“Oh, my…” She moved a branch farther out of her way. “Then you’re my landlord.”

“Your what?”

“Landlord. Norma Sue rented us that small house up by the road.”

“You’re joking. Right?” Clint felt a severe sinking sensation in his gut. His saddle groaned loudly as he shifted uneasily.

“Nope. Wouldn’t joke at a time like this.” Her brow furrowed as she looked from him to the heifer, now standing contently to one side of the tree. “Why isn’t that cow chasing you?”

“Oh, her, that’s Flossy. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Ha! She almost killed me.”

“All you had to do was turn around and flap your arms at her.” Her look of frustration gave Clint an odd sense of satisfaction after the way she’d mouthed off the morning before.

“No way. That cow wanted my blood.”

“Nope.” He shook his head, loving her distress. “I assure you, you can get down now.”

“Not on your life, bud. That cow is crazy.”

“Look who’s calling the kettle black.” Clint dismounted and went to stand beneath her.

“You are saying that with a smile on your face. I hope.”

His lips twitched. “A small one, but it’s there.”

“Well, good. I’d hate to have to fall out of this tree and belt you one.”

Clint removed his hat, ran a hand through his hair. “Did your mama ever tell you what a handful you are?”

“All the time. Now about my playing monkey—”

“You don’t have to keep hanging around up there. Flossy isn’t going to hurt you and I need to go and find her baby.”

“Her baby! Ants were attacking the poor thing.” She started to drop down and stopped. “You are certain Flossy isn’t coming after me again?”

“Certain.” Clint sighed, holding out his arms. “Come on down. I’ll help you.”

“No, thanks. I can handle this.”

She slipped from the tree, dropping to her feet in front of him. She had on plain gray athletic pants, and a lime-green top with no sleeves. She had lovely arms, tanned and lean. Even a mess, Lacy Brown was a sight to behold.

Flossy snorted and Lacy sprang up against him. Before he could snag his good sense, he wrapped his arms around her…all for the sake of protection. She fit in his arms like she’d been made to be there. It was a very pleasant feeling. Her wispy hair tickled his nose, tempting him with the inviting scent of lemons. He loved the smell of lemons— “Come on,” he growled. Lacy looked up at him and blinked. She had a set of
very deceptive eyes. They seemed almost innocent. He had a hard time believing this could be true of such a wildfire of a woman. He dropped his arms and stepped away. “Flossy isn’t going to harm you.”

“If you say so.” She stepped away from him. “But I’ll walk on this side of you just in case.” She quickly sidestepped around him, placing him beside Flossy.

Clint fought the need to smile.

“The calf is over here,” she said, and started trotting.

Clint fell in beside her. The spitfire had a tender heart.

They jogged a few yards before he saw the calf.

“He was crying terribly when I came around the corner. It scared me to death at first. I never knew something so small could make a noise like that. It was heartbreaking. I couldn’t stand it if he died.”

They reached the tiny babe together and Clint dropped to his knees. Lacy plunked down and gently took the little fella’s head into her lap. He hadn’t moved and was breathing heavily.

“Tell me he’s going to be all right.”

He was covered in bites, but Clint had seen worse. Nevertheless, it was obvious that if Lacy hadn’t intervened, the ants would have killed the calf. “He’ll make it. Thanks to you. I owe you.”

Lacy just nodded. When she looked up at him there were tears in her eyes.

No, not tears—
He lifted the calf in his arms, fight
ing to ignore the way his heart was thumping. Lacy stood, too, then walked over and picked up a red sweatshirt.

“Is that what you beat the ants off him with?”

She nodded and after inspecting it for more ants, she yanked it over her head then pushed the arms up to her elbows.

“That was quick thinking on your part. Thanks again,” he said.

Returning to his side Lacy gently rubbed the curly white forehead of the weak baby. “You’re welcome. I couldn’t stand the thought of him dying.” The wind whipped at her pale hair and Clint had another crazy urge. He wanted suddenly to tuck the feathery strands behind her ear and kiss away the worry lines creased between her eyebrows. Whoa, Clint…you’re one sadistic fool! What’d he think he’d do with a woman like Lacy Brown? She’d be the kind of woman who’d bring a man to his knees, wild, unpredictable—and then when he couldn’t think straight anymore, she’d be the kind to walk away. And never look back.

“The calf will be fine,” he snapped, trying to ignore how cute her quizzical expression was.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Nope.”

She dropped her hand and stepped back. “You’re sure. You look like you just ate a lemon.”

Lemons— “Nothing is wrong, I need to get going is all.”

“Can I help?”

“No!”

Her lovely eyebrows shot together. “There is something wrong. The calf is sicker than you’re telling me.”

She stepped closer. Her bare forearm brushed his and he froze. Sweat popped across his forehead when she lifted her gaze to his. Lacy Brown’s eyes were bottomless pools of sapphire. They reminded him of pictures on a brochure he’d seen of the blue waters off the coast of Mexico. The travel brochure had boasted that you could see thirty feet deep in the crystal-clear water. It couldn’t compare to the depths of Lacy’s eyes.

“Clint, is the baby dying?”

“No—”

“Then I’ll come by later to check on him.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Yes, it will.” She started to move toward the fence then stopped. “Flossy isn’t going to trample me, is she?”

“She’ll stick with her calf. Go on.” Please.

“Well, if you say so.” She eyed the cow warily before loping toward the road.

“Sorry about all this,” he called stupidly, watching how she moved, liking her fluid movement. Enjoying what he saw way too much.

“No problem,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m
glad to see all those years of gymnastics finally came in handy.” She climbed through the fence then stopped. “See you later, neighbor.” She waved high above her head.

He couldn’t move as he watched her disappear around the bend in the road. Only after she was gone did he expel the breath that had stuck in his lungs.

“Not if I see you first,” he muttered.

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