Bachelor Cowboy

by Roxann Delaney

  He tossed his paper napkin on the table. “Not hardly.”

  The ride back to the farm was blessedly silent. Kate was relieved when she finally stepped inside the kitchen, even though Dusty had followed her. She expected he would. He was a gentleman.

  “Thank you for the ice cream, Dusty,” she told him, aware that her aunt was watching them from her place at the table.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Kate,” he answered, politely. But the look on his face said something else. She was relieved when he turned to Aggie. “When do you want to start on the machinery?”

  “Let’s wait until after the box social on Saturday,” she answered. “Will we see you there?”

  “I keep hearing talk about it, but I don’t know what a box social is.”

  Aggie propped her foot on the chair. “Really? I would think you’d remember or at least know about them, considering how much you like to eat.”

  “So it involves food, huh?”

  He listened intently while Aggie explained how it had begun in the oil rush days when the town was still in its infancy, and Kate looked on in morbid fascination. She already knew how the social would turn out. Morgan would bid on Trish’s basket, and Morgan’s uncle Ernie, who managed the retirement center and was a family friend, would be bidding on Aggie’s basket. For the first time since her high school graduation, and at Aggie’s insistence, Kate would have a basket of her own in the mix.

  “How do the bidders know who the basket belongs to?” he asked.

  “There are ways,” Aggie said, glancing at Kate, who hadn’t moved from the doorway leading into the hall.

  Dusty looked at Kate before turning to grin at Aggie. “And the two of you aren’t telling, are you?”

  Kate didn’t answer and neither did Aunt Aggie. As far as Kate was concerned, he could wonder, just like the rest of the men.

  “Don’t worry, ladies,” he said, smiling at each of them, “you don’t have to tell me anything. I’ll be able to figure it out for myself.”

  When he turned to leave, Kate slipped out of the kitchen to try to sort through her feelings. She knew they needed his help. Whether they would be getting the machinery ready to sell or to get the fields ready for planting, it was as important as harvest had been. But she wished she and Aunt Aggie could handle it on their own.

  From her spot in the hallway, she could hear him saying goodbye to Aunt Aggie, but she stayed out of sight.

  “You drive carefully on the way home,” Aunt Aggie replied. “We’ll see you Saturday at the social.”

  Kate shuddered at the thought. She wasn’t looking forward to it at all, especially if Dusty was going to be there.

  THE NEXT DAY, Dusty drove to Oklahoma City to see his doctor. It was time to find out just how soon he could get back to rodeo. Aggie hadn’t mentioned needing him to help with the ground work, just getting the machinery ready. But even if she had, he was hoping he might be competing again by then. All he needed was the doctor’s okay to return to the life he knew and needed.

  “The ribs and shoulder are fine, Dusty,” the doctor told him after looking over the X rays. “They shouldn’t cause you any trouble except maybe an occasional ache in bad weather.”

  “I can deal with that,” Dusty replied, waiting for the rest of the diagnosis. “And my head?”

  “The concussions,” the doctor answered, nodding as he thumbed through a stack of papers in a file folder.

  “I’ve been having some headaches,” Dusty admitted.

  “How bad are they?”

  Dusty shrugged his shoulders, unable to look the man in the eye. Lying wouldn’t help him, so he told him the truth, hoping it wouldn’t bring bad news. “Most of them I can handle with some aspirin, but now and then, they’re worse.”

  “That’s expected with someone who has had as many head injuries as you have. As far as your daily living, I doubt they’ll give you much more trouble than that. I’ll give you a prescription for something a little stronger to take when they’re bad enough that the aspirin doesn’t work.”

  Dusty slowly let out some of the breath he’d been holding. “What about rodeo?”

  Scribbling on a pad, the doctor glanced up at him. “What events are we talking about?”

  Dusty cleared his throat. “Bull riding.”

  The doctor didn’t answer right away. “That’s a tough one. With your history of concussions, I strongly advise against it. The brain can only take so much trauma. It’s not something you want to risk.”

  Dusty wasn’t ready to accept that. “Just what are the dangers?”

  Turning to give him a level look, the doctor removed his glasses. “I’ll be honest with you, Dusty. Worst-case scenario, death. But there are others not quite so…final. There could be long-lasting problems with movement, learning or speaking. And there’s always the chance of a subdural hemotoma, seizures, even stroke.” He waited while Dusty digested the information. “None of those are anything you can ignore. I understand how important your riding is to you, but it isn’t worth the risk of your health or your life.”

  Dusty didn’t like the prognosis, but he also knew he was a professional, which gave him an edge. “What about team roping?”

  The doctor seemed to be considering it. “Well, I don’t see any reason why not. It’s a lot different than bull riding. Just be sure you get loosened up first. But if you discover the headaches are getting worse, we’ll talk again.”

  Dusty nodded. Bull riding was dangerous. There was no doubt about that. But he wasn’t going to give it up. He was too good at what he did. And the doctor hadn’t ordered that he couldn’t.

  On the drive home, Tanner called, and Dusty told him a little of what the doctor had said. “I’ll spend the next couple of weeks helping the Claybornes and working with Shawn, if he’s still interested, but after that, I’ll get back to bull riding,” he told his friend.

  “Dusty—”

  “It’s my life, Tanner,” he said quickly, recognizing the concerned tone in his friend’s voice. “I can’t quit. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

  “I can think of a couple of things.”

  Dusty wasn’t in the mood to hear them. “Nothing is going to stop me from living my life.”

  “Unless you don’t have a life to live.”

  Dusty ignored the comment, determined to show Tanner and the doctor and anyone else who needed showing that he’d be just fine on the back of a bull. He’d take one day at a time, the way he always did, and let worries take care of themselves. Except for one, he thought, after he’d ended the phone call. How was he going to find out which basket was Kate’s at the box social?

  Chapter Six

  “We’ll go to the library as soon as Kate finishes her lunch, Trish,” Aunt Aggie said.

  Sitting in the Chick-a-Lick Café with her family, Kate put her napkin on the table. “I’m all done,” she announced and turned to Trish. “Is that our last stop today? I’d like to get home and get the last of the cakes baked for tomorrow.”

  “Who’s baking cakes?” a deep voice from behind her asked.

  Kate recognized the voice. Looking up, she saw Tanner and Jules O’Brien. “Stopping in for lunch?” she asked them.

  Jules, holding baby Wyoming in her arms, sighed. “He’s teething,” she said, gazing at her son, “and neither of us have been sleeping well. We’re hoping that getting him out and about will distract him. And, yes, I’m hungry.”

  “He’s such an adorable baby,” Trish said. “It’s hard to think he would ever be grumpy.”

  “I know,” Jules answered, with a tired smile, “and I love him to pieces, but some days, like today, I’m worn out. Luckily, Tanner’s a patient man.”

  “Or so she thinks,” Tanner said, slipping his arm around her and reaching over to tickle his son.

  She smiled sweetly at him before turning to Trish again. “I haven’t seen you to congratulate you on your upcoming children’s book. I can’t wait to read it to Wyoming.”
r />   Trish smiled. “Yes, it’s exciting. Much different than teaching, although that’s my first love.”

  “She’s such a wonderful teacher,” Kate said, “and now an author, too. I’m so proud of my big sister.”

  “The whole town is proud of her,” Jules said. “And, Trish, don’t let me forget to have you sign the copy I intend to buy as soon as it hits the bookstore.”

  “I’ll be sure to remind you,” Trish said, her cheeks taking on a pink glow. “But Kate has talents, too. I may be the writer in the family now, but Kate is the cook.”

  “Don’t you mean Kate is the clumsy one?” Kate asked, feeling her own cheeks warm. “Evidenced by my run-in with the wasps.”

  “Dusty was pretty upset,” Tanner told them all as Trish excused herself to speak to one of the other café customers.

  Kate wished she had kept quiet about it. She had managed to deflect the cooking talk, but she didn’t know how much Tanner had seen that day at Dusty’s. She’d tried her best to put that part of the incident out of her mind, the same way she’d tried to put Dusty out of her mind, failing miserably at both.

  “Tanner told me about that,” Jules said and settled on the chair vacated by Trish. “Are you all right? It must have been awful.”

  “It was scary, but I’m fine.”

  Aggie stood and picked up her purse. “Kate, why don’t you stay and visit with Tanner and Jules? Trish and I will go on to the library and you can meet us there later.”

  Jules looked up at Aggie. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the box social, I’m sure.” Then she leaned close to Kate and whispered, “Tanner and I want to talk to you about something.”

  Kate wondered what that might be. Although she’d known Tanner for years, she’d only met Jules a year before. They’d become friends, although not close friends, and she couldn’t imagine what the two of them wanted to talk about.

  When Trish and Aggie were gone, Jules turned to Kate, while Tanner strapped Wyoming into a high chair. “We’re worried about Dusty.”

  Kate looked from Jules to Tanner. From their serious expressions, she could only think something terrible had happened. “Why?” she asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

  Jules shook her head and glanced at her husband, who settled on the chair beside her. “This crazy idea he has of continuing to ride bulls when the doctor told him—”

  “He saw the doctor?” Kate asked.

  Tanner leaned forward. “He didn’t mention he had an appointment?”

  “I know he’s been having some headaches and was waiting for the doctor’s okay to ride again. And I did overhear him mention an appointment to you at his place the day I was stung, but other than that, no, he never told me.”

  Tanner looked down, avoiding eye contact. “He didn’t exactly get the okay to ride bulls.”

  Kate knew what news like that would have done to Dusty. “What do you mean by ‘exactly’?”

  Shaking his head, Tanner still didn’t look at her. “He’s had too many concussions. If he goes back to riding bulls, there’s no guarantee that he won’t be permanently injured.” He finally looked up at Kate and met her gaze. “Or worse.”

  Kate shook her head. “No, that can’t be. He said he’d had some concussions, but—”

  “More than a few,” Jules said quickly. “He once said he was a pro at it.”

  Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew Dusty was stubborn, but to risk his life? “What can I do?” she asked.

  “You might try talking some sense into him.” Tanner’s anger was only overshadowed by his caring.

  “He might listen to you,” Jules said, placing her hand on Kate’s.

  Kate couldn’t imagine Dusty giving any weight to anything she said. “I doubt that.” She looked at them and saw they didn’t believe her. “But if you think it might help…”

  Jules smiled, first at Kate, and then at Tanner. “I think he’s finding some things a little more difficult than he ever thought they might be.”

  “He sure is,” Tanner agreed with a smile and a glance at Kate. “And he can’t see what’s obvious to the rest of us.”

  Kate looked from one to the other. If they were thinking what she suspected they were, they were very wrong. Dusty was looking for only a little summer fun. And since she wasn’t looking for anything at all, she’d gone along with it. Or at least that’s what she tried to tell herself.

  “He’ll see it before long,” Jules added. “Dusty’s no fool.”

  “I don’t know what either of you is talking about,” Kate said quickly, “but I can tell you one thing. Dusty doesn’t care a bit what I think, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to talk some sense into him.”

  After Jules and Tanner thanked her and wished her luck, Kate walked to the library to meet Aggie and Trish, thinking about the news the O’Briens had given her. Dusty was the most stubborn man she had ever known, but in spite of it, she liked him. And she was determined to keep him from doing something that would hurt him, whether he liked it or not.

  “I HAVEN’T SEEN Dusty, have you?”

  Kate turned her attention from the bidding on Trish’s basket at the box social to glance at her aunt. “No, I haven’t either.”

  After her conversation with Jules and Tanner the day before, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to show up. She still hadn’t thought of a way to bring up the subject of his visit to the doctor.

  Aggie looked worried. “I hope nothing has happened.”

  Kate hadn’t mentioned anything to her aunt or her sister about what Jules and Tanner had told her, so there was no way they could know what was going on. She was also aware there was no guarantee that Dusty wasn’t on the back of a bull at that very moment. All she could do was hope. “He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

  They continued to watch the bidding on Trish’s basket as the amounts rose higher. The crowd that had gathered in the city park was enjoying it, laughing and shouting over each new bid, women teasing men about their appetites. As it always did, Trish’s basket bore a pink polka-dot bow. Kate suspected Trish had told Morgan which one it was, and she didn’t blame her. After all, the town’s sheriff was Trish’s fiancé.

  But this year things were different. In addition to Kate having a basket, Trish had made all the food for her own basket, with no help from Kate or Aggie. She had done such a good job, Kate was busting with pride. Oh, there had been a few problems, like when Trish had wandered off and forgotten the chicken she was frying, but she quickly returned to take care of it after Kate found her and reminded her. There was hope for Trish’s cooking skills yet.

  Kate’s contribution for the evening sat among the others waiting to be bid on, along with Aggie’s. The only differences between Kate’s sister’s and aunt’s baskets were Trish’s pink bow and the blue bandana tied on Aggie’s. Kate had always insisted that leaving out her own basket was to level the field, when the truth was she didn’t want to spend the evening with some man who thought only of his stomach. But this year, Aggie had overruled. Kate’s basket sported a blue gingham bow.

  “Sounds like the bidding is over,” Aggie said, “but I can’t see who won it.”

  Kate stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to see through the crowd. “Looks like it was Morgan, as it should be.”

  In a matter of minutes, they could see Morgan claiming the supper, and then Trish and Desperation’s sheriff made their way through the crowd toward them. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Dusty walking their way from the street. He didn’t look especially happy.

  “I missed it, didn’t I?” he asked when he reached them.

  “If you mean Trish’s basket, yes,” Kate answered. “What kept you?”

  He shook his head and chuckled. “Flat tire. Probably from one of those nails you insisted needed to go into the wheelbarrow. Too bad you didn’t get to my place sooner that day. I might have made it here in time.”

  “If that’s a compliment, I accept and thank you.”
>
  Aggie put her arm around her niece. “Kate’s basket is coming up. You could bid on it.”

  Dusty turned to look at her, his brown eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, yeah?”

  Kate shot her aunt a warning look. “There’s no reason to do that,” she told him. “After all, you wouldn’t want to risk ptomaine.”

  He nodded, his expression solemn. “You’re right. Which one is yours? So I know not to bid on it.”

  “What’s this about ptomaine?” Aggie asked.

  Beside her, Kate patted her arm. “It’s an inside joke, Aunt Aggie. I didn’t mean a thing by it and neither did Dusty.”

  “Kate’s basket is just like mine,” Trish said, joining them along with her fiancé. “The only difference is—”

  “Trish fixed her own this year, without help from me or Aunt Aggie,” Kate hurried to say before Trish could finish.

  “And she did a fine job, too,” Aggie added.

  Trish wasn’t to be outdone. “But Kate’s basket—”

  “It’s all right, Trish,” Kate said, noticing the mulish look on her sister’s face and loving that she cared so much. “I doubt Dusty will want to bother.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Dusty told her, with a devilish grin. “I’ve heard that ptomaine is treatable. And this is to raise money for benches on Main Street, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Aggie said, but thankfully didn’t give Kate away. “You’ve met our sheriff, haven’t you, Dusty?”

  “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.” Dusty turned to the man and shook his hand. “Dusty McPherson. Glad to meet you, Sheriff.”

  “It’s Morgan. Morgan Rule. Pleased to meet you, too, especially if you’re the Dusty McPherson.” He gave Dusty’s hand a friendly pump before releasing it.

  “If you’re referring to bull riding, that would be me.”

  “Then it’s a real pleasure.”

  “Thanks. And you’re a lucky man,” Dusty said, indicating Trish with a smile.

  “I think I am,” Morgan replied, putting his arm around Trish and pulling her closer. “I’m waiting to see if Kate’s cooking lessons have paid off.”