The Trouble With Lacy Brown Page 17

  “Lacy, be still.” Clint’s voice was soft, drawing her gaze, quieting her screams.

  The gun was at her temple, she could feel tremors racing through Austin’s body, knew he was near breaking but felt no fear. She felt only love looking at Clint.

  For a moment she’d succeeded and drawn the gun away from Clint. Only to see the now-alert Cigarette-butt level his gun on him.

  “Austin,” Clint said, his words tight, clipped, “take the truck and go before the sheriff gets here. You can still get away and you won’t have harmed anyone. You do not want to harm Lacy.”

  “Why? I’d be doing the world a favor getting rid of this magpie.”

  Clint frowned. “No. You wouldn’t.” He slowly started to stand.

  “Hold it right there, buster.” Cigarette-butt snapped, jamming his shotgun into Clint’s shoulder. “Nobody told you to move. Shoot her, boss, and let’s get out of here. Carl, load up,” he snarled at the man Lacy had decided didn’t have a brain of his own. Carl practically ran to the truck and hopped inside.

  Angered, Austin pressed the cold metal harder against her temple and she could see the fury building in Clint. Her pulse screamed at high speed, fearing he was about to get himself shot. Shifting toward Austin, she focused on the control freak in him.

  “Who’s the boss here?” she asked, cutting her eyes at him. “You or Smokin’ Joe over there?”

  Austin grimaced. “Shut up. Dawson, we aren’t going anywhere until I say so.”

  Dawson. He finally had a name.

  “Look, we got plenty of cattle sold,” Dawson snapped. “I ain’t hanging around here so some officer can waltz up and handcuff me. I ain’t goin’ back to no prison ’cause you won’t admit it’s time to call it quits.”

  “Yeah, boss,” Simple Simon chimed in from the cab. “Daw has a point.”

  “I give the orders here!” Austin yelled. The air rang with fury as he pushed Lacy forward so he could step toward Dawson. Lacy lost her footing and stumbled, catching Austin off guard. He yanked her back but it was too late. Losing his footing, they both tumbled forward.

  Clint rammed his elbow into Dawson’s gut, then lunged for Austin. She was knocked to the side as Clint locked on to Austin’s arm, one hand on the gun, one hand around his neck, pushing him back as they wrestled for control of the gun. Lacy started to get up to help, but Dawson shoved her from behind and sent her sprawling toward the side of the trailer.

  She caught herself before running into it, spinning around just in time to witness Dawson slamming the butt of his shotgun into the back of Clint’s skull. The sound reverberated with a sickening thud and Lacy’s whole world tilted as Clint’s knees started buckling and his hands fell limp and lifeless to his side. “Clint,” she cried out, reaching for him. In that terrifying instant, watching him fall forward, her life flashed before her eyes.

  What if I never have the chance to tell Clint I love him? What if Clint died because of her stupidity? Oh, dear Lord, what have I done?

  What if he were already dead?

  Clint fought back the darkness overcoming him as he hit the ground. Searing pain ripped through his skull.

  “No!” he heard Lacy scream, and he forced his head upward. It felt heavy and the effort was daunting. Blood ran like a river into his eyes as he tried to focus on Lacy. He found Austin standing above him, gun leveled down. He saw Dawson turning toward Lacy’s voice, then to his horror, he saw Lacy evade Dawson’s reach and throw herself at Austin.

  Like a wildcat, tears streaming down her cheeks, she clawed at his face. Dear Lord, she was beautiful, and faithful. He knew she would fight till death if she had to.

  Clint struggled to regain his senses; he had to help her. Austin shoved her back. Yet, tough as nails, she belted him in the nose with her elbow. Staggered by the force of the blow and bleeding profusely, he tottered away from her, his gun dangling dangerously in his hand.

  Clint focused on the gun aimed at the woman he loved. Determined, he willed his limbs to move, tried to shake the blackness swallowing him. Then Dawson stepped into view, now with two guns aimed at Lacy.

  “Lacy,” Clint called and, with all the strength he possessed, forced himself up. He propelled himself toward her, trying to draw the fire from the thugs as the darkness engulfed him.

  The gunshot was the last thing Clint remembered.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Clint awoke with a start. Lacy.

  Where was she? His surroundings came into focus and he realized he was in a hospital. Ranger’s hospital.

  A nurse stood at the foot of his bed studying a chart. His head throbbed like a jackhammer, but he struggled to sit up. He had to find Lacy. Had to know if she was alive—

  “Hold on, big guy,” the nurse said. Coming to his side, she gently pushed him back onto the pillow.

  “Lacy,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. His head was spinning.

  “She’s in the waiting room. The doctor has gone to tell her you are going to be okay. We stitched up your wound and the scan showed no other damage to your skull. You were very lucky, though you could have some short-term memory loss. But that’s yet to be seen. You’ll hurt like thunder, but you’ll be fine in a few days.”

  She was alive. She wasn’t harmed. “Thank you,” he managed. Drained, but thanking God that Lacy hadn’t been shot, he relaxed against the pillows.

  A few minutes later the door opened and Lacy stepped inside. He drank her in, wanting nothing more than to see her safe. She was pale, her eyes were huge and he could see her body tremble.

  “Clint,” she whispered, moving to his side. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  “For what,” he rasped. “You saved me.”

  She started to cry. “No, Brady saved us. He got there right after you passed out. He shot Austin in the hip.” Silent tears streamed down her beautiful face. “I nearly got you killed. If I hadn’t jumped on the back of that trailer…then I— I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” She hiccupped and rubbed at the wetness on her face with the back of her hand.

  Clint forced himself up on an elbow, wanting so much to hold her. “You were only trying to help.” He reached for her and she came into his embrace willingly. Her tears wet his shoulder until the nurse returned and berated him for sitting up.

  Reluctantly he leaned back against his pillows and watched Lacy attempt to dry her eyes with a tissue the nurse handed her. Reaching out, he clasped a wobbly hand over hers.

  “I’m going to marry you,” he said, more certain of the prediction than he’d ever been about anything in his life.

  Lacy gaped at him, disbelief etched upon her face. “You said…I—” she gasped through her hot tears “—remind you of your mother, and I almost got you killed.” Abruptly she turned and started to walk away.

  Clint stopped her, holding tightly to her hand. “You do, sugar,” he said, gently tugging her back to his side. “I didn’t know what I was doing that day in your kitchen. My insides were going crazy and my heart was tripping out on me. You scared me.” He paused, fighting back the emotions welling within him.

  “But I’ve figured some things out since then,” he continued. “I had planned on coming over today or yesterday—I’ve lost track of time. I’d planned on making everything up to you, but I got a little sidetracked.”

  Lacy lifted her head. The hope in her eyes melted any reserves he may have held. This was his woman. His gift from God.

  And he was going to keep her.

  “No.” She pulled her hand away and took a step back. “No, I can’t.”

  “Lacy. What’s wrong? What do you mean no?” He didn’t like the look in her eyes.

  “This will never work.” Lacy spun toward the door and he would have lost her had he not held firmly to her hand, determined to never let her go.

  “You don’t need to love m-me Clint.” She sniffled and tried to compose herself. “You’re right. With the way my personality is, there is no telling what I’m going to wake up and do tomorrow. I t
ried to come here and carry out a promise I made to God and I couldn’t stay faithful to even Him.”

  “Now, hold on there.” Clint tugged her to sit beside him on the hospital bed. “What do you pray every time you end your prayers?”

  Lacy didn’t understand what he meant.

  “You pray for God’s will to be done and not yours. I’ve heard you pray many times, and you pray that every time. Don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Lacy stopped crying. “I wanted my coming to Mule Hollow to be about God and not about me.”

  Clint lifted his hand and gently rubbed strands of hair off of her damp cheek. “This isn’t about you, Lacy. Not in the way you think. I’ve watched you, and I’ve seen your heart, and you’ve changed me. I had shut God out of my life and hadn’t even realized it until I saw your relationship with Him.

  “This was about me…and everybody else that has watched you in action. You might get a little carried away at times, times I’ve come to love observing, but your heart is true. You may not want your personality compared to the apostle Peter’s, but, Lacy, just like God knew Peter’s heart, He knows yours. He knows how true and faithful your heart is. And so do I.”

  Lacy shook her head and buried her face against his chest again. His words reached deep inside of her. Had her pride and her desire to let God use her in the way she saw fit overshadowed the real reason for His leading her to Mule Hollow? Could it really be true?

  “Lacy,” Clint murmured in her ear, “you are my answer to prayer. I’ve needed you for so long. I love you, Lacy. And if you’ll marry me, I promise that we’ll work together to fulfill the vision God gave you for Mule Hollow.”

  Every thought Lacy had deserted her when Clint said he loved her. She looked up and met his smoldering brown gaze. Slowly she touched his cheek with her trembling fingertips.

  Light seeped into her veins, flooded her heart and a smile burst to her lips.

  “Could you really love me, even after all I put you through last night?”

  In answer, Clint leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was slow, strong and steadfast and chased away any doubts she might have had. When he lifted his head, his eyes were twinkling.

  “Like I said before, the trouble with you, Lacy Brown, is you don’t know when you’re whupped. Will you marry me?”

  In that moment she knew Clint had been right. They had been wrought for each other by the mighty hands of God to balance out their different personalities into a perfect union.

  “Oh, Clint, I love you, too. But look where I got you with my stupid, impulsive actions. Why, I couldn’t even keep my smart mouth closed when I had a gun stuck to my back. Clint…I could have gotten you killed!” Overcome with uncertainty, she buried her face against his chest and wept.

  “Yeah, you could have.” His voice was gentle as he smoothed her hair with his hand. “I have to tell you, Lace. I’ve never seen anyone braver than you. All the while, knowing you would make yourself the target of their frustrations, you stood up to those guys. They didn’t know what hit them when you started screaming. I didn’t at first.” He pushed her away from him and lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “I wouldn’t ever try to hold you back, Lace. I just want you on my team.”

  Lacy melted at his words; hope and pure joy surged through her. “Oh, Clint,” she sighed. “I thought God brought me here to be the matchmaker. And He was pulling the strings all along.”

  Clint loosened his hold on her and cocked his head to the side. “Imagine that.”

  Clint nestled her against him and in the sweet silence filled with awe at their decision, Clint’s heart changed.

  “Lacy,” he said, “Will you come to New Orleans with me?”

  “I’d go anywhere,” Lacy sighed against his cheek. “Any special reason?”

  Clint thought of the letter he’d stuffed into his jeans pocket earlier that afternoon. “I need to see a lady who lives there. I need to invite her to a wedding.”

  Epilogue

  Lacy stood with a small crowd on the corner of Main Street. Her heart was thumping with wild anticipation as she watched the moving trucks pulling around the corner. Glancing up, she smiled at Clint. He immediately drew her near, under the shelter of his arm.

  “Look, Lace, it’s what you envisioned,” he said, bending close to her ear. “They’re coming.”

  Lacy thrilled to the warmth of his breath against her skin. It delighted her soul to look around the small crowd waiting to help the three schoolteachers move into their new apartments.

  Molly Popp, now a Mule Hollow resident for three weeks, had attended church faithfully every Sunday since moving to town. That told Lacy that she’d been right in coming.

  Lilly Tipps also stood on the edge of the crowd beside Norma Sue. Lilly had been hurt by her ex-husband when he abandoned her upon learning she was pregnant, but Lacy felt an irrepressible spirit in Lilly. Looking down Main Street, it hit Lacy that she’d felt that same spirit in Mule Hollow when she’d first sat in her pink Caddy and felt that whisper of hope calling to her. It was a feeling of being down and out, but of not giving up. Lacy had a feeling that Lilly would never give up. And she knew just the ladies to give her support.

  Scanning the rest of the crowd of familiar faces she had come to love, Lacy wanted to shout aloud for the hope she felt surging all around her.

  You are so good, Lord. You are an awesome God!

  “Can you believe it?” Esther Mae said, clapping her hands together. She hugged her husband, Hank. “I told you this plan was going to work. I told you.”

  Hank raised an eyebrow. “You were right. And I’m glad of it. You ladies did a mighty fine job of reviving the town. Looks like this just might work.”

  “Well, sure, it’ll work,” Norma Sue said. “You men had the doubts, we women knew the Lord had it under control all the time.”

  Laughter burst around Lacy, and she couldn’t help it—she spun out onto the street with her arms open wide. “Come on, let’s go welcome the newest residents of Mule Hollow.”

  Clint grabbed her hand, and together they walked down the center of the street toward Adela’s apartments.

  She and Clint had traveled to New Orleans and he had started a new relationship with his mother. She would be attending their wedding in March. Wedding.

  “What’s with the dreamy expression?” Clint asked, tugging on her hand.

  “I was thinking about God’s sense of humor. Just think about us—we came from standing on this street clashing heads together, to preparing to walk down the aisle together in marriage.”

  “I like God’s sense of humor.” Clint stopped walking and pulled Lacy into his arms. “I can’t wait until you are Mrs. Clint Matlock.” And then he kissed her.

  “All right, that’s enough of that, you two,” Norma Sue said. “We’ve got things to do and there’s no time for dawdling.”

  “Hey, Lacy,” Bob called from where he’d taken the lead, “What’s next on our plan for Mule Hollow?”

  “Oh, now it’s our plan,” Esther Mae harrumphed, then she smiled. “That’s just like a bunch of men to join in after the fact.”

  “Well, I was thinking,” Lacy said, glancing at the colorful buildings lining the street. “We’ve got the ads out and women are coming, but so is winter. We might just need to be patient. We can’t expect Mule Hollow to turn into a metropolis overnight.” Suddenly an idea started to bloom. “However, I bet we could do a Christmas or Epiphany pageant of some sort.”

  “You mean acting?” Andrew asked, frowning.

  “Cowboys acting in a play,” Lilly added. “I’d have to see that to believe it.”

  “I was thinking that you could be in it also.”

  “Me.” Lilly stopped and stared openmouthed at Lacy. It was that look Lacy knew so well. “Do you know how large I’ll be in a few months? Why, I’m getting round so fast that my shirts are going to be screaming mercy soon.”

  “Yup, I know. You’ll be just right.”

  “I don’t thi
nk so—”

  Clint tapped Lilly on the shoulder. “You might as well give up. What Lacy wants, Lacy gets.”

  “I told Clint that,” Sheri added. “So you might as well get ready. If Lacy wants you in the play you’ll be in the play. Baby and all.”

  They had reached the vans and the teachers were stepping down from the cabs. Immediately, the cowboys went over and offered their help. There was a lot of promise in the air.

  It made Lacy want to sing.

  So she did.

  “Love is in the air…Mule Hollow, where all your dreams come true…”

  ISBN: 978-1-45921060-8

  THE TROUBLE WITH LACY BROWN

  Copyright © 2005 by Debra Clopton

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