Dusty: Wild Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  It was a tiring end to what had been a physically and emotionally demanding three days. Fortunately, she had only a small carry-on tote and could avoid the cattle call at baggage claim.

  She expected to find her father waiting for her at the entrance to the gates as was their prearranged agreement. Instead, it was Dusty waving at her, his grin stretching from ear to ear and as potent as ever. Her pulse involuntarily skipped. So much for getting her emotions under control during her absence.

  All at once a new worry popped into her head, and she hurried her pace, cutting through and around people to reach him.

  He met her on the other side of security.

  “Is Dad all right?” she asked, frantic at this point.

  “He’s fine.”

  “Why didn’t he meet me?”

  “I asked him if I could. I was hoping you could fill me in on what your contacts said.”

  “Oh.” Relief swept over her, leaving her unsteady.

  Dusty had wound up calling Maryanne the day after she arrived in L.A. As promised, she’d gotten in touch with a couple of industry professionals, friends of her late mother, and tested his revised tagline on them.

  “Let’s wait till we reach the car to talk.” He took hold of her elbow and guided her through the terminal. “This place is a zoo.” Ten minutes later they were outside and crossing the street to the parking garage. “I had to bribe your dad into letting me pick you up. He’s missed you. We all did.”

  Maryanne tried not to read anything into the casual remark.

  “I forgot to ask, how was your trip?”

  “Crazy busy,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been running an endurance race.”

  “Accomplish everything you wanted to?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He’d brought the Jag, which pleased her. It was a nice ending to an otherwise long, tedious and, at one point, harrowing plane trip. So, she reluctantly admitted, was being with him.

  Nice, that was, not harrowing.

  “Did the new client like your presentation?” he asked, merging onto the highway that would take them to Markton.

  They’d already discussed his son, who was excited about starting preschool, and her father, who was surviving, if not excelling at, his lessons. Maryanne purposely didn’t inquire after Dusty’s family and whether or not he and his father had resolved their disagreement.

  The small reminder of that day was enough to catapult her back in time to their kiss. Of course, it didn’t take much. During her entire stay in L.A., whenever her mind wasn’t fully engaged with work or some task, she was thinking about Dusty and his mouth on hers, eliciting feelings she was better off without but having nonetheless.

  “The client’s not new yet.” She rested an elbow on the armrest and stretched out her legs. It felt good to relax. “They’re supposed to let us know by the end of the week whether or not they’ll sign with us. But the presentation went well, in spite of a half-dozen last-minute disasters.”

  “Your boss should be happy.”

  “He is. For now. But that won’t last.”

  “Then you’ll be flying back again?”

  “Definitely.”

  He hadn’t mentioned her contact with her mother’s friends since picking her up but she knew he was anxious to hear what they’d said. It must be hard for him, she thought, having to wait. Dusty Cody was far more used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. She decided to cut him a break.

  “I spoke to Herb Machol. Have you heard of him?”

  “No.”

  “He was my mother’s agent.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s…let me see, how did he say it? Mildly intrigued by your screenplay premise.”

  “Mildly?” Dusty’s expression was priceless. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Tired as she was, she laughed out loud. “Don’t worry, it’s good. Herb’s usual response is an obscene sound.”

  Dusty took his eyes off the road long enough to gape at her. “Really?”

  “Seriously.”

  His face split into a ridiculously wide grin, reminding her a lot of Matt when Dusty had given him permission to play fetch with Track.

  “Unfortunately, there’s bad news, too. The other two people I called didn’t have the slightest interest.”

  His grin turned philosophical. “Win some, lose some.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “I’m not sure I can take more bad news.”

  “This isn’t bad. Herb says he’ll read your screenplay.”

  “He did?”

  “Keep in mind, he doesn’t rep writers, only actors. But he said if it knocks his socks off, he’ll pass it on to a few of his associates.”

  “I wish to heck I wasn’t driving right now.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I’d kiss you.”

  Her insides fluttered. She tried to cover her reaction with a snappy comeback. “A handshake will do.”

  “Yeah, but not nearly as much fun.”

  Not nearly as risky, either.

  The trip home had reminded her how futile any relationship with Dusty would be. Her life was firmly planted in L.A., and his in Markton.

  “Would you do me a favor?” he asked when they turned onto the long drive leading into Cowboy College.

  “What’s that?”

  “Read my screenplay before I send it to your mother’s agent. No one’s ever read it, and I’d like another opinion.”

  “Not even a friend?”

  “Writing’s my deep, dark secret, remember?”

  There was that tiny bit of hesitancy again. The one that showed he wasn’t nearly as confident as he pretended to be. Maryanne instantly relented.

  “Sure, I’ll read it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll print it out and drop it off in a day or two.”

  At the door to her cabin, she got her handshake…and a kiss. On the cheek—which left her walking only a few inches off the ground and not ten feet.

  “Hi, Cookie.” Her father was waiting up for her. “How was your trip?”

  They chatted for half an hour, him over a nightcap and her over a cup of hot tea, before he yawned noisily, stood and headed off to bed with a spring in his step, the first one she’d seen in the three years since her mother had died. Inconveniences aside, she was glad they’d come to Wyoming. She was also looking forward to them returning home and getting back to their regular routines.

  Except for leaving Dusty.

  She chewed on her bottom lip, annoyed with herself. That thought had no business rolling around inside her head and needed to go back to wherever it came from.

  Another equally disconcerting one promptly occurred to her. What if Dusty’s screenplay was bad? How could she tell him without hurting his feelings? Maybe she’d been wrong to agree to read it.

  Too late now, she’d already committed.

  Her father, dressed in his pajamas, came out to find her sitting on the couch, her legs tucked up under her.

  “I can’t believe you’re still up. You must be exhausted.”

  “I am but my mind won’t shut off enough for me to sleep.”

  “Well, I’m glad because I forgot to tell you the big news.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a rodeo in Albuquerque this weekend. Dusty’s competing. So are his brothers and sister.”

  Funny, he hadn’t mentioned anything about a rodeo during their ride home from the airport.

  “He’s invited me to go along with him and his family.”

  “He did?”

  “You, too.” Her father beamed. “Isn’t that great?”

  “Yeah, great,” Maryanne said weakly and waited for her father to leave the room before she let out an expansive sigh.

  DUSTY DISMOUNTED AND TIED Uno’s lead rope to the hitching post. The horse raised his head and whinnied loudly.

  “Hold on, big boy. Your turn’s coming.”

  He gave the horse a pat then str
ode over to join his family who’d gathered to watch the morning practice. Climbing the arena fence, he straddled the railing next to Jesse.

  “About time you showed up. Dex had to practice with Len.”

  They both knew having to use a substitute didn’t make their brother happy. To get really good, team ropers had to practice endless hours together.

  “Better late than never.”

  Dusty had actually risen early. Over a quick breakfast, he’d printed out his screenplay then left to drop it off at Maryanne’s cabin. Only she wasn’t there. Considering how late she’d gotten home the previous night, he’d assumed she’d be taking it easy. After knocking twice, he left the manila envelope containing his screenplay near the front door. On the return trip to Cottonwood Ranch he’d dialed her number but disconnected before the call went through. Better not to appear too eager.

  “Late night?” Elly asked.

  “No later than usual.”

  She rolled her eyes as if to say “typical.” Only the night hadn’t been typical, for that wasn’t how he’d describe Maryanne or his growing attraction to her.

  “That city girl again?” This question from Walker. When had his other brother found out?

  “Can’t blame him,” Jesse said with far too much leering for Dusty’s liking. “She’s easy on the eye.”

  “And off-limits to you,” Dusty said irritably.

  That got a laugh.

  “Good morning, son.” His mother ignored the bickering amongst her offspring and smiled in his direction.

  “Morning, Mom.”

  Unlike his father, he and his mother had spoken regularly since the argument in her study. Also unlike his father, his mother pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. Had she also pretended nothing was out of the ordinary after finding out about his father’s affair with Mark Hansen’s mother?

  “Aren’t you heading over there?” Jesse asked.

  “Let Dex take another turn with Len. That way, he’ll appreciate me more.”

  A small commotion at the box drew everyone’s attention. Dex’s horse, spooking at who knew what, had reared. Pulling on the reins and sitting low in the saddle, he fought to bring the skittish animal under control.

  “Let’s see what’s going on.” Jesse nudged Walker with his elbow.

  Dusty knew from personal experience that “see what’s going on” really meant “give our unsolicited advice.”

  His two brothers hopped off the fence and crossed the arena to stand on the railing around the box with their father and three other wranglers.

  “Aren’t you going, too?” his mother asked.

  “If the six of them can’t figure out what’s spooking Dex’s horse,” Dusty said, “I sure as heck can’t.”

  Elly laughed and punched him lightly on the arm.

  For a family that lived within a few miles of each other and worked at the same place, the entire Cody clan didn’t get together more than two or three times a month, and that included holidays. There was, of course, one exception: rodeos. The event itself along with practicing for them. Then, nothing could keep them apart. Not even an argument between father and son.

  J.W. offered Dex his opinion on what he was doing wrong with his horse, his booming voice carrying across the arena.

  “Go,” Len called, when he and Dex were ready to try again.

  In the next instant, the chute opened, and a calf bolted. Len, in the header position, went first, his horse flying. Dex, in the heeler position, came second. Ropes circled high in the air and then were tossed at the fleeing calf, one at its head, one at its rear legs. Debates over which position in team roping required more talent and skill were generally heated. The fact was, both men and their horses needed to be good. Damn good. Dex and Len weren’t half-bad as the stopwatch proved.

  “If they keep that up,” Dusty said when the calf had been released and rounded up, “Dex might have himself a new partner for Albuquerque.”

  Elly clapped her hands as the two men rode by. “Awesome job, guys.” An exceptional barrel racer herself, she was well on her way to qualifying for Nationals. In Dex’s and Walker’s defense, they’d been distracted by their respective recent weddings. Temporarily. Dex was clearly back in the game.

  “Think you can do as good as them?” Elly challenged.

  “Hell, yeah,” Dusty answered with more confidence than he felt.

  He’d had his own share of distractions. Finding out about Matt, for starters, and the impact of having a son in his life. The recent argument with his father, for another. And then there was Maryanne. She’d laid out the ground rules for their relationship, clearly and succinctly. Dusty, however, was inclined to break them.

  On the surface, she didn’t appear to be his type. Cool, sophisticated and career-driven. Underneath was a different story. She was everything he liked in a woman. Warm, caring, compassionate, bright, a phenomenal kisser—the list went on and on. Too bad she lived hundreds of miles away. He’d sensed without having to ask that she wasn’t one to engage in flings. Neither was he, though most people would be surprised to hear that.

  Dusty’s reputation might have been well-deserved at one time in his life but not for the past year or two. The more serious he’d become about his writing, the more he’d come to believe the rumors regarding his father’s infidelity, the less interested he’d become in…socializing. Unfortunately, no one, not even his family, had noticed the change in him.

  Jesse cupped his hands to his mouth and hollered, “Your turn.”

  Dusty started to swing his leg over the fence but stopped when his cell phone rang. The number flashing on the small screen was a surprise. Josie hadn’t contacted him directly since before her wedding to Dex.

  “Hello—” He stopped himself before saying her name. For some reason, he didn’t want his family to know the identity of his caller.

  “Hi, Dusty. Sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s all right. I’m not busy.”

  “I know it’s a last-minute imposition but is there any way you can pick up Matt from preschool? I’m stuck at an appointment and can’t get away for another hour.”

  “Sure.” He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and climbed down the fence.

  “I tried calling Dex but he’s not answering his phone.”

  Dusty’s gaze automatically darted to the other side of the arena where his brother sat astride his horse talking to their father.

  “I’d rather you called me first anyway.” He walked farther out of earshot.

  He didn’t press the issue. She was walking a narrow line between duty to her child’s father and loyalty to her new husband. It was enough that she’d called him today and for that, he was grateful.

  “Is there a problem? I thought his preschool didn’t get out until eleven.”

  “Oh…maybe. Hard to tell yet. One of the students at the preschool has apparently come down with that new strain of flu, the one in the news these last few weeks. As a precaution, they’ve closed their doors until next Monday. I don’t know what I’m going to do the rest of the week.” Josie worked part-time for an attorney in town. Another benefit of Matt attending preschool was that it freed up her mornings.

  “I’ll watch him.”

  “But you have your job, and you’re getting ready for the rodeo.”

  “Matt’s more important. Besides, I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you, Josie.”

  After disconnecting, he made straight for Uno and mounted. Instead of heading into the arena, he turned the big horse’s head in the direction of the barn.

  “Hey! Where you off to?” Elly called.

  “I have an emergency.”

  “You’re up next.”

  “Not anymore.” Dusty nudged Uno into a fast trot.

  He sensed his brothers’ and father’s eyes tracking him from their places by the box. They were undoubtedly annoyed, thinking he was once
again being selfish and irresponsible. Dex would be more annoyed than any of them if he knew the reason for Dusty’s abrupt departure.

  Half an hour later, he pulled into the church parking lot where Matt attended preschool. Several parents were leading their children to their parked vehicles. Dusty had heard about the new strain of flu but hadn’t really paid much attention. Entering the wrought iron gate, he followed the walkway to the classrooms, remembering which one was Matt’s from when they’d registered him the other day.

  Besides Matt, only three other children were waiting to be picked up.

  “Hi, buddy.”

  Matt bounded over to greet Dusty. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “She had an appointment so she sent me.”

  “Cool. Did you bring Track?”

  “Not today.”

  Matt’s face fell.

  Dusty ruffled the boy’s hair. “Next time, I promise.”

  A young teacher approached him. “If I can get you to sign Matt out, you two can leave.” She pointed to a table near the door where a three-ring binder lay open.

  As he signed his name, Dusty noted with a small amount of satisfaction that he was the only one besides Josie to drop off or pick up Matt.

  “Are we going to my house or your house?” Matt asked as Dusty helped him into the rear seat of his truck and fastened the seat belt.

  He wanted Matt to think of his place as home, too. An apartment over the horse barn probably didn’t feel permanent, even to a four-year-old. Now might be a good time to consider building a house of his own on that piece of land his parents had deeded him near Stony Creek.

  “Neither.” Dusty shut the rear passenger door and went around to the driver’s side. Climbing in, he said, “I was thinking we might stop by the Bush General Store for an ice cream.”

  “Yippee!”

  Dusty concurred.

  After selecting their ice cream bars from the large reach-in freezer, he and Matt went out onto the store’s large front porch to eat them. Dusty walked in a straight line while Matt took the crooked route, stopping at various shelves and displays to check out the merchandise. Outside, they plunked down at one of three small tables and chairs set up for customers.