Dusty: Wild Cowboy

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Dusty: Wild Cowboy Page 3

by Cathy McDavid


  “He doesn’t think so.”

  “He’ll wind up hurt.”

  “Sooner or later.”

  “And you think that’s okay?”

  “I think it’s his decision.”

  “And if I love him, I’ll support him?”

  “You do, and you are. It’s why you’re here with him.”

  True on both counts.

  Maryanne exhaled. The timing of her father’s trip stank. She and the senior exec she currently assisted were “this close” to landing a new account that was sure to gain her company-wide recognition if not another promotion. Not only that, her real estate agent had called the day before with good news. Maryanne was next on the list for Westwind. She’d been waiting over two years to buy a condo in the trendy, exclusive green community. If one came up for sale, she’d have mere days to finalize the deal.

  How could she accomplish all that with her father in the hospital?

  She refused to lose another parent. Not to something completely avoidable.

  “I might be able to help.” Dusty’s voice penetrated her thoughts.

  “How?”

  “I can teach your father, not only how to rope but rope smarter and safer. There are no guarantees, of course. Accidents happen. But the more he knows, the more proficient he becomes, the less likely he is to be injured.”

  Maryanne wasn’t sure what to make of his offer.

  “Tiny Dancer is a good horse,” Dusty continued. “I have better ones at my place. And I can give your dad one-on-one training. We have all the same equipment there as here.”

  “In exchange for my help with your pitch?”

  “Right.” He gave her a dazzling grin.

  Maryanne once again fell victim to a small, electric thrill coursing up her spine.

  “You can be my image consultant,” he went on. “A good pitch can’t be much different than a good advertising campaign.”

  “Dad may not like the idea.”

  “If he’s against it, then you’re off the hook.”

  “Spoken like a man who’s certain of the outcome.”

  “Your dad is determined.”

  “And then some.” She chewed her bottom lip. “He’ll think I’m being overprotective again.”

  “I’ll talk to him. Convince him I came up with the idea.”

  She still hesitated.

  “Take a day or two to decide. There’s no hurry.”

  No? What if her father fell again? This morning wasn’t the first time. She really didn’t want him roping but since she obviously couldn’t stop him, she might as well see to it he got the best training available. Dusty talked the talk, and her instincts also told her he could walk the walk. Her father probably couldn’t be in better or more capable hands.

  Besides, it might be fun working with Dusty and beneficial to her, as well. She needed something productive to occupy her many free hours and keep her from worrying about her father.

  “I don’t need a few days,” she said with sudden certainty. “We have an agreement.”

  Track perked up and gave a small yip.

  “Good. I’ll tell your dad to come by in the morning.”

  For a second time in an hour, Maryanne shook Dusty’s hand. He held on marginally longer than before.

  Track yipped again, his wagging tail hitting the wooden bench.

  Maryanne was beginning to suspect the dog possessed an uncanny ability to understand human language when she realized his excitement was due to the approach of a striking middle-aged couple and a towheaded boy.

  Unable to contain himself, Track whined excitedly.

  “Go on, buddy,” Dusty said.

  The dog sprinted off and greeted the boy with an enthusiasm that went both ways.

  “Here you are,” the man boomed once they were within earshot. Despite his vigor, he walked with a pronounced limp and the assistance of a cane. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Don’t you answer that cell phone of yours?” There was an unmistakable reprimand in his voice.

  “Sorry, the battery died earlier.”

  Maryanne stole a glance at Dusty. His expression, usually so open, was unreadable. The trademark grin was there but not the twinkle in his eyes. Except when he gazed at the boy. Dusty liked children, at least this one.

  “Careful, Matt,” he warned. “That dog will lick the hide clean off your face if you let him.”

  That got a laugh.

  He stood as the couple neared. Maryanne did likewise, expecting and receiving an introduction.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Maryanne Devonshire. She and her father are guests at Cowboy College.”

  She should have guessed the couple’s identity. Dusty was a mixture of both his parents. He had his father’s build and his mother’s eyes, though the color varied slightly.

  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cody.”

  “We don’t stand on ceremony around here. Call me J.W. And this is Anne.”

  “Welcome to Markton.” Anne’s smile was also like Dusty’s, only toned down about a hundred watts. “Matthew, come over here, honey.”

  The boy reluctantly separated himself from the dog. He stopped in front of Dusty and gazed up at him expectantly. No, uncertainly, Maryanne decided. Dusty put a hand out and smoothed the boy’s unruly hair. He was rewarded with a shy, awkward smile.

  “You want to take Track for a walk?” he asked.

  “Can I?” The boy turned to Anne.

  She didn’t look happy but answered, “A short one.”

  The Codys seemed past the age to have a child so young, though it wasn’t impossible. Matthew, or Matt as Dusty had called him, couldn’t be more than four or five.

  “He’s adorable,” she said to Anne, who beamed at the compliment.

  “Just like his father.”

  Maryanne’s glance automatically went to J.W.

  She felt Dusty’s hand touch hers.

  “Matt’s my son.” His son!

  Maryanne promptly closed her gaping mouth, hoping no one had noticed.

  “I TAKE IT YOUR FATHER and not you is the roper in the family,” Dusty’s mother asked Maryanne.

  “Yes. I’m afraid I haven’t been on a horse since I was twelve or thirteen.” She’d visibly composed herself before answering. Learning Matt was Dusty’s son must have come as a surprise to her.

  It had come as a surprise to Dusty, too. Until two months ago, he had no idea Matt existed.

  “We can fix that,” he offered, only half kidding. He’d like to take Maryanne riding. Especially up to his favorite spot on Stony Creek.

  She shook her head. “I’m not ready for that. Besides, I didn’t bring any boots.”

  Like that, the awkward moment was behind them, and everyone relaxed. Dusty appreciated Maryanne’s poise all the more. She would be a good mentor for him. It also helped that Matt was a short distance away playing fetch with Track.

  Dusty hadn’t quite come to terms with his and Matt’s relationship. The news that had rocked his world a few weeks ago was still sinking in. His parents, overjoyed at becoming instant grandparents, had adjusted quickly. As had Dusty’s twin brother, Dex, who’d assumed the role of stepfather with no problem when he married Matt’s mother. Dusty seemed to be the sole exception, and he was the boy’s father.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings for Matt. He liked the boy enormously. Every time he looked at him, he experienced a surge of paternal pride. He also felt responsible and had committed himself to providing for Matt, and not just financially.

  What he and his son didn’t have yet was an emotional bond. He reminded himself that these things take time. The situation was further complicated by Matt gaining a new set of grandparents and a stepfather in addition to a father, all in the same month. Not to mention a couple of aunts and several uncles. No one could fault him for being overwhelmed.

  “I thought maybe Dusty was giving you roping pointers.” His mother delivered her remark innocently enough.

  Dusty knew
better. She was fishing, bent on discovering what he and Maryanne were doing together. His mother not-so-secretly hoped he’d get serious and settle down one of these days. Like his two brothers.

  “Hardly.” Maryanne laughed again. “We were actually discussing my father. Dusty’s agreed to give him private lessons which, I’m afraid, he desperately needs.”

  “Awfully nice of him.” J.W. shot Dusty a look that shouted he’d rather his son spent his time engaged in more productive endeavors.

  If Maryanne noticed the tense exchange, she ignored it. “Very nice. Though he strikes a hard bargain. In return for helping my dad, I have to—”

  “She has to have dinner with me,” Dusty interrupted, narrowly averting disaster.

  Maryanne gave Dusty a blank stare, then understanding apparently dawned for she said, “Yes. He’s promised to show me around town.”

  “Markton is small but picturesque. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  Maryanne’s gaze found Dusty’s. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Was she serious? He decided then and there to keep the dinner date, owing her that much for going along with him.

  “I should get back to my father,” she said politely.

  “Stay,” his mother insisted. “We were just leaving. We only came by to find Dusty and tell him dinner’s in an hour.” She turned to him. “You will be there?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I’d appreciate it. This is our last dinner alone with Matthew. His parents are still on their honeymoon,” she explained to Maryanne, “and are coming home tomorrow.”

  His parents? Dusty’s teeth involuntarily ground together. Wasn’t he Matt’s father?

  Dex conveniently hadn’t mentioned the arrangement for Matt’s care during their absence to Dusty until after the plans were set, saying he and Josie wanted to give the boy an opportunity to spend time with his grandparents.

  Dusty remained unconvinced of his brother’s motives. They could be genuine, an attempt to please their parents and consideration for Dusty’s erratic work schedule. Or not genuine. Josie had once been Dusty’s girlfriend, and he was the father of her child. That was a lot for any man to handle.

  Matt came running, the dog nipping at his heel. “Can Track go with me to Grandma and Grandpa’s?” he asked Dusty.

  “I have a better idea. You can stick with me for a while.”

  “Really?”

  Matt’s enthusiasm pleased Dusty. “Sure. We can fix something to eat at my place.” His three-room apartment above the main horse barn at Cottonwood Ranch wasn’t large but then he often traveled for weeks at a stretch and didn’t need much space. “What’s your favorite food?”

  “Hot dogs!”

  “Dang it. I ate the last one yesterday. What’s your second favorite food?”

  “Spaghetti.”

  “Mine, too.” Maybe they weren’t so different after all. “And I just happen to have all the fixings.”

  “Dusty.” His mother’s voice contained a mild warning.

  “He’ll be fine. I’ll bring him up to your house after we eat. In one piece, I promise.”

  “His bedtime’s eight o’clock.”

  “I’ll have him there at seven-thirty sharp.”

  She clearly wasn’t happy but didn’t push the issue.

  “Don’t disappoint your mother.” His father leveled a finger at him.

  Dusty’s hackles instantly rose, the result of years of conditioning and endless testosterone-infused battles. He kept his cool, however. The fewer witnesses to his confrontations with his father, the better.

  During all this, Maryanne had stood discreetly to the side. Now, as they walked back to the arena after his parents left, she chatted amiably with Matt about nothing in particular, which went a long way in restoring Dusty’s previously good mood.

  At the arena, Matt became instantly enthralled with the task of herding calves from the holding pen to the shoot.

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure.”

  The boy ran off to join the wranglers. Track wanted in on the action, too. Dusty signaled the men to keep an eye on Matt. Satisfied that he was in capable hands, Dusty and Maryanne resumed their former place along the railing. Her father waved from where he sat astride his horse.

  “Thanks for not giving me away,” he said. “My parents don’t know about my writing and wouldn’t approve if they did.”

  “I think it goes with the territory. My grandparents were completely against my mother wanting to be an actress. Until she became successful. Then, they couldn’t brag about her enough.” Maryanne smiled encouragingly. “Your parents will be the same.”

  When hell froze over. Changing subjects, he said, “Matt’s mother and I dated off and on in high school and college. After graduation, she left for the west coast.”

  “You don’t have to explain to me.”

  “I want to.”

  They watched the last two students rope. Matt, a born cowboy, appeared to be having the time of his life, which made Dusty glad he’d insisted on bringing him along.

  “I ran into Josie about five years ago when I was on my first film shoot. We spent the night together, probably more for old times’ sake than anything else. In the morning, it was pretty obvious whatever we once had was over, and we parted friends. I didn’t see or hear from her until recently.” Dusty paused, his emotions were still raw and close to the surface. “If she hadn’t come home to take care of her dad after his heart attack, I might never have found out I had a kid.”

  Josie’s reasons for not telling him about Matt made sense, and Dusty could see why she’d chosen the course she had. The Codys, his father in particular, were a lot for anyone to handle, and Josie, with her gentle ways, was no match for them. They’d have tried to dictate her life—and his—and not quit until they’d succeeded.

  Trouble was, Dusty couldn’t get past his anger and resentment. It had been wrong of Josie to keep Matt from him and deny him his rights. But for the sake of his brother, his family and Matt, Dusty was attempting to put his feelings aside.

  Easier said than done.

  “That’s a lot to deal with all at once. For everyone.”

  Maryanne’s observation roused him from his mental wool-gathering. “It gets even more complicated. Josie married my brother Dex last week.”

  “Wow!”

  “But it’s okay. They love each other, and Dex is good to Matt.” At least, that was what Dusty kept telling himself. Across the arena, Matt and Track chased down the last errant calf—from a safe distance, thanks to the wranglers. “I’ve been thinking I should step back for a while. Give Dex and Matt some space to settle in and get to know each other. My mother actually suggested it.”

  “Are you serious?” Maryanne drew back. Not an easy feat in those ridiculous high heels of hers. She nearly lost her balance “He’s your son, and it’s obvious you care about him.”

  “I don’t want to confuse him.” More of his mother’s words pouring from his mouth.

  “He’s young, he’ll adapt. I did, and I was younger than him.”

  “But your biological father didn’t live next door to your adoptive father.”

  “I wish he had. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked. “I love my parents with all my heart, but I’ve never forgotten that my birth parents didn’t want me. Matt doesn’t deserve that, especially because it isn’t true.”

  No, it wasn’t. “He’ll be living with Dex.” Dusty continued trying to rationalize a situation that deep down felt wrong.

  “And what’s stopping you from visiting him every day?”

  Nothing, he thought. What he said was, “My parents would rather I didn’t rock the boat.”

  “Isn’t that what you did by insisting Matt have dinner with you?”

  “I got mad. It was a knee-jerk reaction.”

  Maryanne touched his arm. Her fingers were warm and smooth. “I owe you another apology. This is a sensitive subject for me. I have no right fo
rcing my opinions on you.”

  “I don’t want to hurt my brother. He’s been through enough.”

  “Are you worried Matt might come to care more for him than you?”

  Dusty didn’t answer. He was too busy waiting for his heart to start beating again. Maryanne couldn’t be more on target.

  He might not be slipping comfortably into fatherhood but that didn’t mean he wanted another man—even his own brother—taking that privilege away from him.

  Chapter Three

  “Quite a three-ring circus you’ve got going on.”

  Hearing his oldest brother’s voice, Dusty looked away from the line of horses tied to the hitching rail. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  Jesse passed Dusty one of the travel mugs he’d been carrying. The coffee was hot and black, just how Dusty liked it. The inadequate kick from the cup of instant he’d chugged down at four-thirty when he woke up had faded in the two hours since.

  “Figured you could use some backup.”

  “Thanks, but everything’s under control.”

  “That depends on who you talk to.” Jesse kept a straight face until a hearty laugh broke free.

  “Dex needs to mind his new wife and quit worrying about me.” Dusty signaled for one of the other horses to be brought out. “Did he send you?”

  “Naw.”

  “Dad?”

  “Nobody did.”

  “Liar.”

  Jesse laughed again. When they weren’t arguing, which was often, they got along well. Better sometimes than Dusty did with his twin. “Actually, it was Mom.”

  Dusty doubted that. If she had asked Jesse it was because their father had asked her. “You can tell her I’m not such a screwup I can’t oversee a few head getting shoed.”

  A few head was really about forty. With several hundred horses on the Cody ranch at any given time, shoeing took place on an ongoing basis. In addition to the regular riding stock and Dusty’s specially trained horses, there was the rodeo stock—a lucrative side business, brood mares, their offspring, many of them for sale, four donkeys, two mules and the family’s personal horses. The job of caring for such a large number was more than two men could handle, and Dusty was gone much of the time, leaving Dex to manage alone.

 

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