LITMIR.BIZ

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      He knocked on the green front door, whose paint was peeling with age. Getting no answer, he strode to the back of the house, taking in the overgrown bushes and landscaping as he went. Years of neglect were visible everywhere.

      A black Dodge Ram sat in the drive with an enclosed trailer hitched to the back of it. He’d just stepped onto the back porch when a loud banging sound came from the barn, followed by a crash and a high-pitched scream.

      Rowdy set the dish on the steps and raced across the yard. The double doors of the barn were open and he skidded through them. A tiny woman clung to the edge of the loft about fifteen feet from the ground.

      “Help,” she cried, as she lost her grip—

      Rushing forward, Rowdy swooped low. “Gotcha,” he grunted, catching her just in the nick of time. He managed to stay on his feet as his momentum forced him to plunge forward.

      They would have been okay if there hadn’t been an obstacle course’s worth of stuff scattered on the barn floor.

      Rowdy leaped over cans of paint and dodged a wheelbarrow only to trip over a pitchfork— They went flying and landed with a thud on a pile of musty hay.

      The woman in his arms landed on top of him, strands of her silky, honey-colored hair splayed across her face.

      Not bad. Not bad at all.

      She blinked at him through huge protective goggles, her pale blue eyes wide as she swept the hair away. A piece of hay perched on top of her head like a crown.

      “You saved me,” she gasped, breathing hard. “I can’t believe it. Thank you.”

      “Anytime,” Rowdy said with a slow drawl, forcing a grin despite feeling as if he’d just lost a battle with a bronc. The fact that there was a female as cute as this one sitting on his chest numbed the pain substantially.

      Those amazing blue eyes widened behind the goggles. “I’m sorry, what am I thinking sitting on you like this?” She scrambled off and knelt beside him. “Can you move? Let me help you up.” Without waiting for his reply, she grasped his arm, tugging on him. “That had to have hurt you.”

      He sat up and rolled his shoulder. “Hitting the ground from the loft would have been a harder fall. What were you doing, anyway?”

      Leaning back on her heels, she yanked off the goggles.

      Whoa— Rowdy’s pulse kicked like a bull as he looked into her sparkling eyes.

      “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.”

      “Really?”

      Her brows leveled over suddenly serious eyes. “Really. That happens to be my new life motto.”

      “Sounds kind of drastic, don’t you think?”

      “Nope. Sounds good to me. It felt quite pleasant actually—” she scowled “—until I flew over the edge of the loft.”

      “The little woman has anger issues,” he teased.

      “This little woman has a lot of anger issues.”

      Rowdy knew a lot about anger issues, but would rather not discuss them. Trying to figure out a change-of-topic comeback, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

      “Uh-oh,” he groaned, looking where he’d left the casserole. The oversize yellow cat had ripped through the foil and was face-first in the Cowboy Goulash. “Nana isn’t going to be happy about that.” Even so, Rowdy was grateful for the distraction from the conversation as Lucy raced toward the cat, arms waving.

      He owed the hulking orange cat big-time.

      * * *

      “No!” Lucy yelled, tearing across the yard with the troubling cowboy on her heels. She was not happy with her reactions to the magnetic man. Not only had he saved her, he’d taken her breath away. And she didn’t like the air being sucked out of her. Nope. Not at all.

      What was more, the fact that he—that any man— could do that to her was shocking.

      “Bad kitty,” she admonished Moose when she reached him. The cat had adopted Lucy four days ago when she’d arrived. Now the moose of a cat—thus his name—looked up at her with a goulash-orange smile, then promptly buried his head in the noodles again. “Hey, how much can a hairy beast like you eat?” Lucy asked, pulling him away from the pan as his claws dug in, clinging to the wood.

      “Shame on you. Shame, shame.” Lucy was so embarrassed. “Honest, I feed him. I really do.”

      Rowdy chuckled. “In the cat’s defense, Nana’s

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