Cowboy Heaven

by Cheryl L. Brooks

  The “well, duh” expression on Dusty’s face answered my question.

  “Oh yeah. Right. I see your point.” I sat down heavily in Dusty’s chair. “I’m gonna sound real stupid telling him I’m in love with you when I’ve been denying it left and right ever since he got here.”

  Dusty’s grin was decidedly smug. “I guess that cute ass won’t get him everything, huh?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “At least his dick wasn’t bigger than yours. Otherwise I never would’ve given him up for you.”

  He gasped in mock dismay. “Is that all I am to you? A big enough dick?” His lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout.

  Among other things.

  Even pouting, he was still adorable. “Oh no, you’re much more than that. As I recall, your ass was pretty nice too—and you did win the cutest balls contest.”

  He chuckled. “What would you call a guy who had my balls, Troy’s ass, and Joe’s dick?”

  “Honey,” I replied, reaching for my boots. “Sweetheart, baby doll, darling—”

  “Enough of that,” he grumbled. “I get the picture. So, what would you call me? You know…the one with cute balls, decent dick, nice ass, and a broken leg?”

  I pulled on one boot and then the other, making him wait until I was finished before giving him my answer.

  “Mine,” I replied, grinning like the proverbial cat that got the cream. “All mine.”

  Chapter 19

  All I had to do now was figure out what to tell Troy.

  My supposition that he wouldn’t be back might simply have been a figment of my imagination. He certainly hadn’t said anything, and I considered it extremely rude to put him to the trouble of sneaking into my room in the middle of the night only to be told he’d been replaced.

  Tacky, inconsiderate, if not downright mean.

  He’d had his suspicions, of course—suspicions I’d done my damnedest to allay. I hated to admit to telling such blatant lies; although at the time, I hadn’t realized I wasn’t telling the truth. I was actually more mistaken than anything.

  Still, Troy wasn’t the sort to stay down for long. Case in point, the ease with which I’d resurrected him in the wake of his adventures on the way to Jackson Hole. I had replaced his previous girlfriend with no trouble at all. The trick now would be to find someone to replace me. The fact that I was the only woman around for miles made the night out with the guys more important than ever—although the evening probably wouldn’t proceed according to my original plan.

  I gave Dusty a kiss and left the bunkhouse before anyone else came in for the night. I would’ve liked to have heard him telling the others about the rattlesnake incident, but I didn’t want the conversation hindered by my presence. No doubt Dusty would tell me what was said later on. I only hoped I’d planted enough suspicion in his own mind for him to pay close attention to their reactions.

  Dad was napping when I got back to the house. After putting a chicken in the oven, I worked on the bookkeeping until my vision started to blur from staring at spreadsheets. I went back to the kitchen to finish the dinner preparations at around five thirty, and Dad shuffled in about the time it was ready.

  I was pleased to note he didn’t seem quite as tired as he had earlier. “Have a nice nap?”

  “Sure did,” he replied. “Did you and the boy get that truck out of the thicket?”

  “Didn’t even try.” I wasn’t about to touch the “boy” part of that question—simply wasn’t in the mood. Besides, I was fairly certain he’d only said it to harp on his belief that Dusty was too young for me. “It was caught on some stumps. Might have to use the tractor to get it out. I’m sure Dusty will tell the others about it. They can get it tomorrow.”

  “Shouldn’t have to take time out of the fencing work for that.” He shook his head. “Still don’t buy that rattlesnake story.”

  I had to count to three before I could make even a remotely civil response. I set a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table next to the platter of baked chicken. “It isn’t a story, Dad. It’s the truth. Trust me, there was a snake. And the world won’t end if the fencing project gets delayed another day.”

  “Never had troubles like this when Cody was in charge,” he muttered as he took a seat. “Things around here have gone straight to hell.”

  Dad never had liked the idea of me running the ranch, but this slam was even more pointed than usual.

  Wait for it…

  “You should act your age and quit mooning over those young boys,” he declared. “I still say Rufus is the best man for you. He wouldn’t run off with some young girl the minute your back was turned.”

  And he would be a much better boss than you are.

  He didn’t say that, of course, but I knew he was thinking it. This time, I took a deep, cleansing breath before I answered him. “Dad, tell me again why it’s okay for me to marry Rufus, who is nearly twenty years older than I am, but it’s not okay for me to marry a younger man.” I carefully avoided using Dusty’s name, although it probably didn’t matter. I’m sure he knew precisely who I was referring to.

  “Because it’s not natural,” he insisted. “That’s just not the way it works.”

  I dumped the green beans into a bowl and set them on the table. “Okay, men usually want younger women, I’ll give you that much. But why is it so unnatural for an older woman to be with a younger man?”

  “A younger man would want to father children, and you couldn’t have them.”

  Dad might’ve hit my main concern right on the head, but he’d missed the flip side of the argument.

  I sat down and scooted my chair up to the table. “What makes you think an older man wouldn’t want children? As far as I know, Rufus has never had any kids. He’d probably be tickled to death to have a twentysomething wife and a baby. Geez, Dad. To hear you tell it, I’m not much good for anything. Maybe I should just wander out into the desert and die like an old squaw.”

  “I didn’t mean that and you know it,” he grumbled. “Besides, who would take care of your dear old dad if you were gone?”

  Apparently, taking care of Dad was my only excuse for not walking off to die in the desert. What in the world would I be good for after he died?

  “I’m sure Rufus would look after you.” I knew I was being catty, even though that was more than likely the truth. Rufus would have been happy to be Dad’s caretaker, and he probably would’ve done a far better job of it than I ever had—mainly because Dad respected Rufus’s opinions. “Good ol’ Rufus. He seems to be the answer to everything.”

  “He’s a fine man,” Dad said firmly. “Better than most, and certainly better than any of those young good-for-nothing cowboys we’ve got working for us.”

  My jaw dropped in astonishment. “Good-for-nothing? They’re all honest, reliable men, and they work very hard for us. Why on earth would you say a thing like that?”

  He placed a placating hand over mine and patted it. “You’re right. They’re all good workers. They just aren’t good enough for you.”

  We were talking in circles. I wasn’t good enough to run the ranch, and none of the men were good enough for me. Except Rufus.

  What a choice.

  Then again, maybe we weren’t talking in circles. Dad’s answer to everything really was Rufus. To him, Dusty was only a hired hand. I would never convince him Dusty was the right man for me—or the ranch. Rufus had been the foreman forever. He was accustomed to being in charge of the men, and Dad had always trusted him to make sound decisions. Now that I’d heard about guys being fired or beaten up because of me, I couldn’t help wondering if Dad had known about any of it. Somehow, this didn’t strike me as the right time to ask.

  Truth be told, I still wasn’t sure I was the right woman for Dusty. But regardless of who I wound up with, there was no need for anyone else to make up my mind for me. Not at this point
in my life.

  I let the matter drop until we were nearly finished eating. Dad never was one to talk much once he’d tucked in to his dinner anyway, and it gave me the chance to let my temper cool before reopening a rather touchy subject.

  “Dad, I understand how you feel about the men in my life,” I began, doing my best to keep smiling. “Fathers never think anyone is good enough for their daughters. But remember, I’m the one who’ll have to live with whichever man I choose, not you. Besides, I made a pretty good choice the first time, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did,” he admitted, albeit a bit grudgingly. “Although I had my doubts about him in the beginning.”

  “It’s okay to have doubts. Just as long as you don’t condemn that person outright.” I paused, taking a breath that nearly burst my lungs. “And you’re right about one thing. I do have a very strong liking for Dusty. And he…well…he likes me too.”

  He shook his head. “I still say Rufus would be better.”

  “But I don’t love Rufus. He’s probably the most unromantic man I’ve ever met. Granted, he’s attractive, but he’s about as much fun as a root canal.”

  “Fun isn’t the only consideration,” Dad said. “There’s respect and companionship and—”

  I nearly choked on the sip of tea I’d just taken. “Respect? Rufus has no respect for me whatsoever, and he makes no effort to hide his disgust whenever I giggle—to him it’s like fingernails on a chalkboard. I wouldn’t be married to him for six months before he made all the laughter in me die, just as surely as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Rufus would stifle me in ways you couldn’t begin to imagine.”

  Oddly enough, he didn’t dispute that point. Perhaps he thought I needed stifling. “And Dusty? What would he do for you?”

  “He would love me, Dad. Love me. Do you have any idea how important that is? Rufus would never love me. He seems almost incapable of it.”

  “Maybe not, but that Dusty would break your heart,” he warned.

  “And Rufus would make me feel like I didn’t have one,” I countered. “I’d much rather take a chance on Dusty. Rufus would destroy what love I have left in me, and I don’t want that. Not now, not ever.” Pushing away from the table, I got to my feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get things straightened up here so I can go check on Goldie. I’d bet money she foals tonight, and I intend to be there for the event.”

  I gathered up the dishes and carried them to the sink, rinsing them off before putting them in the dishwasher with a bit more vigor than the task required.

  No, I wouldn’t be able to stand a week of being married to Rufus, especially in light of my suspicions. He might marry me and then decide he needed to get rid of me too. Not that there was any chance of that happening. I couldn’t imagine any set of circumstances that would induce me to marry him.

  What troubled me the most was what might happen to Dusty. If my deductions were correct, there had already been two attempts on his life. That second attempt probably would’ve killed him if I hadn’t run across him when I did. The thought of finding him dead from a rattlesnake bite made my blood run cold. I wasn’t about to sit around waiting to see if the third time was the charm. I wanted to stash him in a hotel somewhere so Rufus, or whoever was out to get him, would never find him.

  “Now, Angela, all I want is for you to have someone to help you run the ranch when I’m gone. Cody would have done a fine job of it, but with him gone, Rufus would be my first choice. He knows how to manage things and would be a big help to you.”

  Clearly, he’d missed the part about love being the most important factor. “I believe I’d rather run things on my own.” I nearly had to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out my suspicions. But that’s just what they were. Suspicions. I had no proof whatsoever. “He’s a good foreman, I’ll grant you that, but I’d hate to be the one to promote him into a position of incompetence by making him a partner.” Not that I would keep him on once I was the sole owner of the ranch—at least, not unless someone else turned out to be the culprit.

  “What makes you think he’d be incompetent at owning a ranch?”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” I said with a weary sigh. “Just a gut feeling. Besides, if I married Rufus, who would be foreman?”

  “Calvin, I guess,” he replied. “He’s been here the longest.”

  “Going strictly by seniority, huh?” I gave this a moment of consideration. “Calvin’s never been in charge of anything but the kitchen. I don’t know if he’d be up to the foreman’s job or not.”

  As I went back to work on the dishes, another thought occurred to me. “How come you don’t think I should marry Calvin? He’s older, reliable, and all that. Why not him? Oh no, let me answer that,” I said, not giving him a chance to reply. “He’s never had any kids, so he’d want a young, fertile woman.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, young lady,” he said, his smile belying his scolding tone. “Actually, Calvin did have a wife and kids at one time, but you know how it is with cowboys.”

  “Oh yeah.” I sang the last line of the chorus to “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.”

  “Damn, I love that song,” he said with a wistful sigh. “It says it all.”

  “If you believe that sort of thing,” I said. “Although I guess I did too, or my sons would’ve grown up to be cowboys.”

  “Too bad about that,” he said. “We wouldn’t be having this problem if they’d liked ranching.”

  “You never know. One of them might change his mind someday, and then we won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  “You mean you won’t have to worry about it anymore,” he corrected. “I don’t think I’ll make it until then.”

  “You just might.” I did my best to appear more cheerful and confident than I actually felt. His rapid deterioration had me worried. “After all, stranger things have happened.”

  “Not that strange, and not lately.”

  That’s what you think. I know of some pretty strange goings on…

  “I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Good luck with the mare.”

  “Good night,” I said. “Sleep well.”

  With a nod, he pushed himself slowly up from his chair. I turned back to the sink, not wanting to witness the evidence of his growing infirmity. It was much too painful to watch. Before long, he would need a walker to get around. I didn’t think I would like that.

  But then, neither would he.

  Chapter 20

  By the time I got to the barn at about eight thirty, the sky was already fully dark, and as I’d expected, Goldie was pacing in her stall. Despite her restlessness, she joined the other horses in nickering at me when I arrived. When I slipped into her stall for a quick check, I discovered that while her water hadn’t broken yet, the muscles in her hindquarters and around her tail were so relaxed the foal would probably fall out with one push. Tonight was definitely the night. I plugged my baby monitor into the outlet by her door, flipped off the lights, and went to the tack room to wait.

  I kept one of the beds from the bunkhouse in there for just such occasions, and I’d checked it earlier that day to make sure there weren’t any mice nesting in it. My intention was to leave the lights off and lie down, hoping Goldie wouldn’t realize I was there and be disturbed by my presence. No doubt a carryover from their days as prey animals, horses can delay labor for a good while if they’re nervous. Having a baby when wolves were prowling around wasn’t a good idea for any species, nor did mares like having any humans in attendance.

  Tiptoeing into the tack room, I closed the door quietly and switched on the portable receiver. I listened for a moment, then after satisfying myself I could still hear her moving about in the stall, I went to lie down on the bed.

  Unfortunately, someone was there ahead of me. I knew that because I sat on him.

  With a squ
eal worthy of finding another granddaddy rattler, I sprang up and stumbled toward the door, fumbling for the light switch.

  “Hold on,” he whispered. “I’ve got a lantern.”

  With the scrape of a match and a flare of the flame, the wick began to glow. I waited until the light was sufficient to confirm my suspicion that it was Dusty lying there in the bed before I said another word. As touchy as things were around the ranch these days, it didn’t pay to jump to conclusions. I certainly didn’t want to make the mistake of snuggling up with Bull or Rufus thinking it might be Dusty—or even Troy.

  Talk about your embarrassing situations…

  I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Troy as yet, and even if he had been waiting for me in that bed, I would’ve had a tough time telling him we were through. He hadn’t done a damn thing to deserve being dumped, and to be honest, I felt kinda guilty about that, especially after all the fun we’d had together. I couldn’t very well give him one last fuck for the road, but if he’d been the one waiting for me, I could’ve at least gotten the confession over with. Singling him out for a private chat would be awkward at best. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Fortunately, Dusty wasn’t privy to any of those thoughts.

  “There now.” After setting the lantern on a nightstand he’d created by upending an old tack trunk, he rolled onto his back. “Isn’t this romantic?”

  He had certainly been busy. A bouquet of late-season wildflowers arranged in an empty Corona bottle sat next to the lantern, and he’d put clean sheets on the bed along with several extra pillows. Not exactly the Ritz, but for an impromptu tryst, he hadn’t done too badly.

  His broken leg was propped up on a pillow with a sheet draped over it. With the possible exception of a splash of cologne, that cast was all he had on.

  I stood there, spellbound, as his cock pulsed, emitting a glistening trickle of syrup, thereby putting the icing on the cake of my wildest dreams. He might have been the September centerfold for Erotic Orthopedic Monthly—if such a publication existed. The only thing missing was the staple in his navel.