Okay, not alone. They had plenty of hands to help. But Dex liked to complain and give Dusty grief. In that respect, he took after their father.
“New guy?” Jesse asked.
He must have noticed Dusty watching the farrier’s every move. While young, the man had come highly recommended. Seven of their best riding stock were tied to the hitching post in front of the main horse barn, their swishing tails chasing away flies. The stout bay gelding on the end was Uno, Dusty’s favorite horse and the one he was counting on to take him all the way to the NFR in Vegas this December.
This year, if he was lucky and worked hard, he could be a double World Champion—in tie-down roping, his event, and also team roping. He and Dex weren’t just twins, they competed together. And were doing well in the standings.
Bending over at the waist, the farrier braced Uno’s right rear hoof between his knees. Pieces of hoof dropped onto the ground as he trimmed and shaped. One miscalculation, one slip of the trimming knife, would result in a sore hoof, not unlike a fingernail being cut to the quick. If serious enough, an abscess could form, putting Uno out of commission for days if not weeks. Time Dusty could ill afford to lose. He and Uno needed to be in top shape for the upcoming Professional Cowboy Association rodeo in Albuquerque. A win would bring Dusty that much closer to qualifying.
Uno snorted, out of boredom at having to stand in one place and not, Dusty was glad to see, pain.
Moving closer, he asked, “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” The young farrier let Uno’s hoof go and straightened. It might only be early in the morning but sweat poured down the sides of his face. He wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt then rested a gloved hand on Uno’s solid rump. “He’s no trouble.”
“Any problems?”
“Nope. Got a nice healthy hoof.”
While they discussed the merits of changing to a lighter weight shoe, with Jesse contributing his opinion, Uno drifted off to sleep.
The stout quarter horse had originally come to the ranch as a green three-year-old with more guts than brains. Dusty had immediately seen the horse’s potential and began training him for roping. Uno didn’t disappoint even if he did relish engaging Dusty in a periodic contest of wills. Eventually, the two of them came to an understanding about who was in charge, and their partnership thrived.
An inability to stay focused was the only possible glitch to Dusty qualifying for Nationals. Not easy with thoughts of Matt constantly running through his head. Dinner last night in his apartment had been fun. Matt seemed to relax with Dusty for the first time since they met. But the evening also left Dusty at odds with himself. Maryanne had been right. About a lot of things. She’d voiced not only his biggest fears but his deepest desires. He just wished the two weren’t in opposition.
A minor commotion distracted Dusty. He and Jesse glanced over their shoulders to see Dex striding toward the line of horses, a scowl on his face. The brothers hadn’t seen each other since the wedding reception.
“I guess the honeymoon is over.”
“What’s he mad about?” Dusty muttered, but was pretty sure he already knew.
“Here comes the groom,” Jesse said when Dex got closer. “Good to see you up and around.” He socked Dex in the upper arm. “How’s the bride?”
A smile replaced the scowl. “Good. She and Matt are unpacking.” Josie’s parents had given the newlyweds a hundred acres on which to build a home. During the interim, they were staying with Anne and J.W. in their house.
“Back to work so soon?”
“I need to talk to Dusty.”
“So talk.” Dusty had returned to scrutinizing the farrier who was almost done with Uno.
“Alone.”
“Give me a minute.”
The two other farriers, one a woman, were also diligently working. As each horse was done, it was led away and replaced with a new one. A six-month-old foal was receiving its first hoof trimming and was not happy. Two men were trying to hold him still. His fussing and high-pitched nickering upset his dam. She twisted her head, pulling on the lead rope. Suddenly, the knot came undone.
“Great. Just great.” Dex started toward the loose mare.
Jesse hummed an off-key rendition of a military revelry, ending with, “Charge!”
Dusty wasn’t amused.
Dex went three steps and came to a sudden halt. The mare had traveled no farther than her baby’s side and was easily caught by one of the hands. With the crisis resolved, Dex returned, looking more put out than before.
Dusty made a mental note to thank the man who’d caught the mare.
Giving Uno one last inspection, he told the farrier, “Good job,” untied the lead rope and headed for the barn. His escape was short-lived.
Dex fell into step beside him. “You brought Matt home late last night.”
“I see Mom squealed.”
“She didn’t have to. Matt hasn’t stopped talking about you since he woke up this morning.”
Dusty’s enjoyment of his son’s antics lasted only until Dex started lecturing him.
“You got him home forty-five minutes late.”
“We were watching the Cartoon Network.” Turned out he and Matt had more than favorite foods in common. Their taste in television shows also ran the same. Dusty had been enjoying himself so much, he’d lost track of the time. “I called Mom and let her know we were going to be late.”
“He’s not allowed to watch Spider-Man.”
“Josie didn’t mention that.” There was a lot about Matt she’d failed to tell Dusty, including the boy’s existence.
“We didn’t think you’d be babysitting him.”
“I can understand. I’m only his father. No reason to assume I’d be spending any time with him while you were away.”
“Okay, that was unfair,” Dex conceded then came back twice as hard. “You let him chase calves. He’s only four.”
“We were chasing calves at that age and a whole lot more.”
Horses whinnied and bobbed their heads as Dusty, with Uno in tow, and Dex walked down the long aisle. A few banged their stall doors in a bid for attention. Dusty put Uno in his stall and latched the door behind him. The big horse immediately buried his head in the feed bin in search of leftover breakfast.
“We grew up here.” Dex wasn’t ready to drop the subject of Dusty’s shortcomings.
“So will Matt.”
“He hasn’t learned how to be safe around animals yet.”
“No time like the present.”
“He could have been kicked.”
“I never let him out of my sight the whole time.”
“Josie would rather she supervise him on the ranch. Until he’s older.”
Dusty stopped. “Are you sure it’s not you wanting me to spend less time with my son?”
He half expected his brother to take a swing at him. He’d certainly done it often enough in the past—as kids and adults. Dex didn’t, however. Apparently marriage had sucked the ornery out of him.
Too bad.
“This is a period of adjustment for all of us. We’d like your cooperation.”
“I won’t be denied time with my son.” Until that moment, Dusty hadn’t realized how strongly he felt. What he wasn’t sure of was how far he’d press the matter.
“No one’s doing that.”
“Then back off.” Dusty didn’t like the idea of involving attorneys, not so soon after Dex and Josie’s wedding, but it might come down to that. “So I was forty-five minutes late bringing him home. Not the end of the world.”
“Kids have schedules. So do Josie and I. You disrupted them.”
“Fine. Next time Matt can just spend the night with me. Then nobody’s schedules are disrupted.”
That shut Dex up, for the moment, anyway.
Outside the barn, Jesse rejoined them. His horse, Sundae, was next up to be shoed by the young farrier, which explained why he’d snuck away from the ranch office to annoy Dusty. Unlike him, Jesse was
toeing their father’s line by managing the ranch’s day-to-day operations. In fact, all the Cody siblings had jobs. Even their sister, Elly, who was in charge of their Web site and marketing. Dusty was the only one unable to find his place.
“We got company,” Jesse commented, craning his neck. “Isn’t that one of Adele’s trucks?”
If the old pickup’s odometer had rolled over once, it had rolled over three times. Gears grinding, it came to a stop beside Jesse’s brand-spanking-new F-350 truck. The engine choked noisily before gasping for its last breath and dying.
“I’ll lay you ten to one it doesn’t start again,” Jesse said.
The pickup’s doors creaked open and two pairs of feet hit the ground. The driver wore old boots. The passenger, a pair of delicate red flats.
Dusty’s heart hammered in anticipation. During the heated conversation with his brother, he’d forgotten about inviting Maryanne and her dad over this morning.
“Who’s that?” Jesse asked.
Dusty didn’t much care for the appreciative glint in his brother’s eyes. “Gil Devonshire. He’s a student at Cowboy College.”
“Not him. Her.”
Dusty had no claim on Maryanne whatsoever, unless meeting her first counted. Still, he felt a sudden urgency to assert his position. “His daughter.”
“You’ve met her?”
“Yesterday.”
Maryanne and her father spotted Dusty and waved. He waved back but didn’t start toward them, hoping first to figure out a way to lose his brothers.
“Friends already, I see.” Jesse chuckled.
“Why are they here?” Dex asked.
“I promised to give Gil some pointers.”
“Mighty neighborly of you.” Jesse removed his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. “I can give pointers, too.”
Dusty elbowed him out of the way. “Not on your life.”
“Where you going?” Dex demanded.
“The practice arena. I’ll be back in an hour. Two tops.”
“The hell you will! There are twenty-five more head to shoe.”
“You’re here. No need for both of us to stick around.”
“Damn it, Dusty.” Dex charged after him.
“Let him go.” Jesse grabbed Dex’s arm in a surprising show of support.
Dex wrenched free of his brother’s grasp but didn’t follow. His glare, however, burned a sizable hole in the back of Dusty’s head.
He’d just committed what Dex considered a cardinal sin; walking out in the middle of a job. But right now, Dusty was too mad at his brother and too excited at seeing Maryanne to care.
“MORNING, DUSTY.”
“Gil. How you doing?” The two men shook hands vigorously.
“Can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”
If Maryanne had harbored any doubts about her father’s willingness to go along with her and Dusty’s plan, they vanished in that moment.
The realization gave her pause.
This was more than a passing lark or seeing through the promise he’d made to her mother before she died. He fully intended to rope competitively.
Oh, dear. Her internal worry meter shot up another notch. Maybe she’d been wrong to cut a deal with Dusty. The lessons would only encourage her father to continue on this foolish course of action.
In the next instant, she changed her mind. If he was going to rope, better he learn from one of the best.
“Morning, Maryanne.”
Dusty was talking to her. She shook her head to clear it. “Hi.”
“Hope you don’t mind that she came along,” her father said. “She likes to watch me practice.”
Dusty didn’t let on that he knew the real reason for her presence. The details of their agreement needed ironing out.
“Well, it’s not like I have much else to do.” She smiled weakly.
“Don’t let her kid you,” her dad said. “She was up at five-thirty and on the phone by six.”
Dusty’s brows rose. “I’m impressed.”
“We’re close to landing a new client.”
“That company of hers is always close to something.” Her father tugged on his belt, adjusting it to a more comfortable position around his generous middle. “Fact is, her boss couldn’t tie his own shoelaces without her.”
“He’s exaggerating.”
“Not by much.”
It was true, she did juggle the workload of two people. But she liked being busy and being useful and coming through on a project when others faltered.
“The man almost didn’t let her take the whole month off. He only agreed when she promised to fly back for a few days every other week.” Teasing aside, pride filled her father’s voice.
Maryanne went soft inside. She was lucky to have a parent who endorsed her career choice. Her mother hadn’t had her grandparents’ support, not at first, and according to Dusty, his parents disapproved of him.
“Ready to get started?” he asked her father.
“You bet!”
The two men walked ahead.
Maryanne brought up the rear. “Is it far?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
Dusty glanced down and grinned. “What shoes you’re wearing.”
She sighed. Her feet were more comfortable than in yesterday’s heels but the flats, a gift to herself after her last promotion, would never be the same again. She really should investigate the town and see if one of the stores sold athletic shoes. If not, she’d bring back a pair on her first trip home.
Maryanne suffered a nostalgic pang. She did appreciate the beauty and splendor of Wyoming, particularly the Cody ranch, which was like nothing she’d ever seen. But she also missed L.A. and the energy and excitement which, in her mind, couldn’t be found anywhere else.
Face it, she told herself, you’re a city girl through and through.
And Dusty was pure country, from the top of his battered felt cowboy hat to the tips of his scuffed boots. Everything else in between was country, too, she mused as she studied his broad shoulders and decidedly male swagger. Impossible not to stare when he was walking three feet in front of her.
Maryanne promptly tripped on a rock and stumbled. That should teach her to pay better attention.
“You okay, Cookie?” Her father and Dusty stopped.
“Fine.” She brushed aside a stray lock of hair in an attempt to hide her embarrassment.
Dusty took her arm and drew her up beside him. “The stable’s just over there.”
She imagined hearing a silent “if you can make it” tagged on the end, and her determination doubled. It was further aided by his hand, which remained on her arm, strong and steady and…nice. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply. Enough so she felt secure, not so much she felt uncomfortable.
With his other hand, he pointed to a long, narrow, modern-looking barn painted a deep red. “That’s our mare barn.”
“Mare barn?”
“When the mares come in season, they’re brought here.”
“Why?”
Dusty cleared his throat. Her father just laughed.
“What?” Her gaze darted from one to the other.
“The mares are introduced to the stud horses.”
It took several seconds but Maryanne finally got Dusty’s drift, and her cheeks flushed. Would she ever stop showing her ignorance?
“We breed our own horses but we also provide stud services to other ranches and private individuals. Mom’s in charge of the operation.”
Maryanne’s father proceeded to ask detailed questions, which Dusty answered. She winced inwardly. Apparently the more graphic details of horse breeding were openly discussed on ranches.
She couldn’t have been happier when the stables came into sight and the conversation went in a new direction.
They spent twenty minutes selecting the best horse for Maryanne’s father to ride and saddling it. She added several new words to her growing cowboy vocabul
ary. The horse was a friendly sort, and more than once she reached out to pet its soft nose.
When they were done, they went next door to the practice arena.
“This is some fine place you got here!” Her father stopped for a moment to take it all in.
She found herself agreeing with him. Even her novice eye recognized the sophistication of the facility. If this was any indication, the Codys were serious indeed about the sport of rodeo.
Dusty removed his cell phone from his belt. It had been housed in a hand-tooled leather case trimmed with silver. She also noticed his watch, a Cartier if she wasn’t mistaken. Apparently not everything about Dusty was well-worn and practical.
“I’m going to round up some help,” he said and placed a call. “Unless you’re willing to chase calves.” He winked at Maryanne.
“Very funny.”
While they waited, her father mounted the horse and circled the arena a few times. Their help arrived soon after, riding an ATV. Big Ben, as he was introduced, was older even than Maryanne’s father and, according to Dusty, had worked for the Codys nearly his entire adult life.
Practice got underway and for a good half hour, Dusty was either in the arena or sitting atop the fence near the box, giving her father constant instructions. Maryanne sat in the bleachers and was so caught up in watching him, she didn’t realize Dusty had come over to join her until she felt the planks vibrate beneath her feet.
He sat down next to her. “How about dinner tomorrow night?”
The remark caught her off guard. “I thought that was just a ruse to distract your parents.”
“We have to meet somewhere.” He shrugged. “And I’d rather not raise anyone’s suspicions.”
His idea made sense in a twisted logic sort of way. If he really was the player she suspected him of being, no one would raise an eyebrow at him dating a guest from Cowboy College. “It might be difficult to do more than cover the basics in a public setting.”
He grinned. “I’ll make sure we have some privacy.”
Shame on her for walking into that one. “Are there any restaurants in Markton?”
“I have a place in mind.”
Why had she even asked?
Dusty: Wild Cowboy Page 4