The sight of Bob Jacobs storming toward her sent a shiver down Molly Popp’s spine.
The blaze in his eyes meant only one thing. He’d read the article.
Bob halted in front of her. “Well, Molly, I guess I’ve learned my lesson. If you’re anywhere in the room, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Molly glowered. He thought he knew her so well.
“Come on, Miss Journalist, let me see the notepads you’re holding. Who’re you picking on this week?” he asked beside her ear, his warm breath feathering along her neck.
He reached and slid the pencil from behind her ear. “Don’t write another word about me.” And then he strolled away down Main Street with a clink and a swagger.
And her pencil.
DEBRA CLOPTON
was a 2004 Golden Heart finalist in the inspirational category. She makes her home in Texas with her family.
Dream a Little Dream
Debra Clopton
MILLS & BOON
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The Lord guards the course of the just
and protects the way of his faithful ones.
—Proverbs 2:8
This book is dedicated to my editor, Krista Stroever. I count it a privilege and a blessed opportunity to work with you. Thank you for your knowledge, your vision and your prayers.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Chapter One
Molly Popp noted that the cattle guard in front of her was like a giant billboard proclaiming in bold letters NO TRESPASSING, and yet, she was about to cross it anyway.
If she wanted a picture of the house that sat a hundred yards from the road—and she did—then she needed to cross this cattle guard, drive through the herd of bored-looking black cows and top the hill that left only the red rooftop visible from where she sat. Piece of cake.
She told herself Bob Jacobs, the owner, wouldn’t mind. After all, this was a win-win situation.
Then why did she feel she was about to do something she was going to regret? She’d never used photos before, but her editor thought a picture would add a new touch to her popular weekly newspaper column. And he’d thought Bob’s ranch would be a good image to start with…especially since he believed readers would be very interested in the ranch after her column came out tomorrow.
Gripping the steering wheel of her convertible VW Bug, she told herself to relax. But it actually wasn’t just the picture that was bothering her.
It was tomorrow’s column.
Had she stepped over a boundary with it?
Remember, win-win, mutually beneficial.
“Yeah, yeah…” she sighed, and tried to calm the churning pit that used to be her stomach.
Just do it, Molly! This is a good thing.
Reaching for her camera, she dipped her head through the strap, and made certain it was turned on, since there was no need to waste time once she was there—after all, this was a surprise.
That’s right! It’s a surprise, so perk up, Molly, and do this, think positive.
On that note, reassured somewhat, Molly pressed the gas and in a teeth-jarring instant shot across the row of steel bars of the cattle guard. Hair whipping in the wind, dust flying behind her, she guided her little Bug as it sped up the gravel road toward the crest of the hill. This was for Bob’s own good!
She hadn’t made it twenty yards when the formerly slow-moving, bored-looking cows in the field suddenly started trotting toward her, converging on the road ahead of her and surrounding her on all sides! It was as if she was the magnet and they were paper clips. Not wanting to hit the animals, she was forced to switch from gas to brake and within seconds she was at a complete standstill surrounded by the big curious bovines.
“Shoo!” she called weakly. This was not in the plan. Not the plan at all. It occurred to her too late that a topless car might not be the best thing when one was encircled by a group of cows. But she didn’t know what to expect from cows. She was a city girl and she’d just bought her new VW convertible because her friend Lacy had a convertible and seemed to have a lot of fun in it.
She’d never thought about drool. But there it was, dripping over her front hood from an all-too-inquisitive cow. “Shoo! Shoo!” she called a bit more strongly. “Go away.”
The herd just looked at her with eyes that said, yeah right. One cow started rubbing its side against her passenger door and another one joined in slobbering on the car. “Yuck!” she exclaimed, as yet another one licked her window then started to nibble on her windshield wiper. “Aw man, that’s just not right—” In reflex she honked her horn. So much for surprise. But she couldn’t let them eat her car. To her dismay they didn’t run from the blast of her horn. As a matter of fact they suddenly came closer. It dawned her as one stuck its head into the back seat that maybe a horn was used to call them to dinner. Hadn’t she seen that somewhere? When one started to place its head between her and the steering wheel, she screamed—to which the cow suddenly threw its head back and vamoosed away from the car.
Okay then! Maybe that was the way to get something done, Molly thought and opened her mouth to scream again but stopped when she heard the low rumble of thunder. She was startled to see the cattle part as if they’d been struck by lightning. She realized it wasn’t thunder she’d heard when her attention was drawn to a fast-moving object barreling down on her through the path between the departing cows.
One minute Molly was sitting behind the wheel of her car and the next instant she was scrambling to get into the passenger seat as the biggest, blackest humpbacked bull charged straight into her car door! Just ran into it like