Dusty: Wild Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  “Good?” Dusty asked, trying to remember the last time he’d eaten an ice cream bar.

  “Yep.” Chocolate dripped down Matt’s chin.

  Dusty handed him a napkin, wondering when that particular action had become second nature.

  Matt scrubbed his chin then beamed up at Dusty. “All gone?”

  “Most of it.” He didn’t mention the dribble on Matt’s T-shirt.

  “Look, Daddy.”

  Dusty was so taken aback by Matt calling him daddy, he didn’t immediately realize what Matt was trying to show him. His chest constricted with an emotion new to him and one he never wanted to lose.

  For the first time, he truly felt like a father.

  “What, son?” Talking wasn’t easy.

  “Isn’t that Grandpa?”

  “Grandpa?” Dusty had to force his gaze away from Matt and across the street. He assumed the boy had spotted Josie’s father. “Over there.”

  He looked in the direction Matt indicated. The scene before him took a moment to fully sink in.

  It wasn’t Matt’s maternal grandfather but J.W. standing in front of Markton Feed and Grain store. That alone wasn’t any big deal. It was the person he was talking to—in an obviously heated discussion—that had Dusty battling to contain his shock and anger in front of his son.

  Abigail Hansen.

  Mark Hansen’s mother.

  MARYANNE HADN’T EXPECTED her meeting with Adele Donnelly to finalize the brochure and Web site updates for Cowboy College to take such a large part of her day. But it had. After the frantic pace of her trip to L.A. and her restless night, she was ready to drop. The short walk from the main building to her cabin felt more like the last mile of an all-day hike.

  Stepping into the small living room, she spotted her father snoozing in the oversized recliner. He’d been getting up at five and putting in long hours with both his regular classes and then his extracurricular lessons with Dusty. She envied her father’s ability to nap so soundly and considered following suit. A large manila envelope on the kitchenette counter stopped her.

  There was nothing on the outside other than her name written in bold strokes. She didn’t need a return address to know the envelope was from Dusty and, judging by the heft and thickness, it contained his screenplay.

  She hesitated only a fraction of a second before undoing the clasp. Glancing at the living room to make sure her father was still asleep, she slid out the stack of bound papers. She’d seen countless screenplays and scripts while growing up with her mother and for a brief moment, she relived fond childhood memories.

  Nostalgia mingled with curiosity. She took the script and the envelope with her to her bedroom, reading as she walked, and shut the door behind her. She had promised Dusty she’d keep his secret and didn’t want her father to wake up suddenly and catch her with the screenplay.

  Thinking she’d read for a few minutes until she fell asleep, she lay on the bed, stuffing pillows behind her back. Only she didn’t fall asleep.

  She read until her father knocked softly on her door an hour later.

  “Cookie, you hungry?”

  “Not yet. Are you?”

  “I could eat something. Think I’ll heat up some of that leftover chili from yesterday.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be out later.”

  Only she didn’t emerge for quite some time. Her weariness long gone, she continued reading straight through until she turned the last page, her eyes damp with tears.

  The screenplay was that good.

  Chapter Seven

  Maryanne didn’t consider herself a morning person, but she could rise at the crack of dawn when necessary. Before the crack of dawn? That was something else entirely. The coffee she chugged down helped only marginally. Her eyelids were heavy and her feet felt as if she was trudging through deep snow. Maybe when the sun came out—another hour according to her watch!—she’d finally wake up enough to function normally.

  She leaned against the side of the horse trailer. Drifting off wasn’t likely. The humongous truck pulling the trailer was idling loudly. In addition to the horrific noise, it emitted a strong diesel fuel odor. Maryanne wrinkled her nose, hating to imagine what the fumes were doing to the air.

  All around her, people hurried by, preparing to leave for the rodeo in Albuquerque. Dusty was among them though they’d had little opportunity to speak other than a quick good morning. His sister Elly was the one who’d distributed the coffee. Maryanne hadn’t bothered to ask if it was organic. She hadn’t cared. Let the ecology police find and arrest her.

  “Be patient, Cookie,” her father said. “We’ll be leaving soon.” He carried a bucket in each hand, lugging them to the front of the trailer.

  “I’m fine.” She refastened the top button of her jacket. The weather had turned considerably cooler over the past couple of days. “Just wish I could help.”

  “Don’t worry, everything’s under control.”

  After her father left, Maryanne continued leaning against the side of the trailer, feeling like an alien from a distant galaxy observing life on Earth. She understood very little of what was going on around her.

  Dusty’s brother Dex and another man were lugging trunks but what those trunks contained was a mystery to her. Elly kept going in and out of the front of the horse trailer, toting boxes and bundles with each trip. At one point Maryanne had walked by the open door and was surprised to see what resembled a cozy and comfortable motor home interior, complete with a tiny kitchen, sleeping bunk and a sitting area. Dusty and his other brother Walker were doing something with the lights on the back of the trailer, which didn’t appear to be working correctly. She’d heard Walker, Elly and their parents would be flying to the rodeo later in the day and that Dusty’s oldest brother Jesse, a pilot, would be taking them in the family’s private plane.

  Seeing Dusty and his brother working side by side, she found it hard to believe they were twins, even fraternal twins. The differences in looks and personalities were almost startling.

  At a shrill whinnying, Maryanne craned her neck and spied a wrangler approaching the trailer leading a pair of horses. Behind him were two more wranglers, also leading horses.

  Good heavens! Were all these people going? Where would they fit?

  “The horses are the last to be loaded,” said an unfamiliar voice behind her. “Which means we’re about ready to leave.”

  Maryanne turned, and her eyes immediately went to the woman and young boy whose hand she held tightly. Matt. Dusty’s son. She barely had time to make the connection when the woman introduced herself.

  “Hi, I’m Josie Cody. Dex’s wife.”

  “I’m Maryanne Devonshire.”

  “And this is our son, Matt.”

  “I remember you,” Matt said. His attention remained on Maryanne for about one second. After that, it traveled back and forth between the hundred and one far more interesting activities.

  “When did you two meet?” Josie asked.

  “I guess it’s been about a week and a half now. Over at Cowboy College.”

  “She was with Daddy,” Matt supplied.

  Josie didn’t quite hide her startled reaction. It pleased Maryanne to see that Matt was calling Dusty daddy. His mother evidently had mixed emotions. Or maybe she was still getting accustomed to Matt’s father being involved in his life.

  “You and Dusty are friends?”

  “My father’s one of his students.”

  “Ah. You’re here to help load and see him off?”

  “Actually, we’re going to Albuquerque, too.”

  “Really!” Josie’s face lit up. “Are you and Dusty dating?”

  His sister-in-law definitely cut to the chase.

  “No, no.” Maryanne waved a hand in front of her to emphasize her denial. “He invited my father. I’m just tagging along to keep Dad company.”

  “Right.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Of course.” Josie smiled knowingly.

  Marya
nne bit her tongue. She didn’t like being thought of as one of Dusty’s conquests.

  “Mommy, can I go help Daddy?” Matt tugged on his mother’s arm.

  “No, sweetie. You need to stay with me.”

  “Please.” He tugged harder.

  She shook her head. “There’s too much going on, and you’ll be in the way.”

  Matt relented. Maryanne suspected only temporarily. He had his father’s penchant for pushing boundaries.

  Josie turned back to her. “We’ll be traveling with you. Well, not with you. In another vehicle.” She spoke behind the shield of her hand so Matt couldn’t hear. “Jesse offered to fly us. Matt would probably leap at the chance but I’m not ready for a small plane trip yet. He’s still so young.”

  “I understand.”

  A horn beeped.

  “We should probably get going. We’ll see you on the road, I’m sure,” Josie said brightly. “It’s a long drive and, with this group, we’ll be making quite a few pit stops.”

  “I’d like that.” Now that they were past their initial awkwardness, Maryanne was sure she and Josie would be friends.

  Matt abruptly broke free of his mother’s grasp and darted off straight for Dusty and Dex.

  “Matt!”

  Josie was too late. Dusty caught the boy and swung him up in a big hug.

  “Boys.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know how Anne raised four of them.” She took a few steps, then hesitated. “If you and Dusty are dating—”

  “We’re not,” Maryanne insisted. “Honestly.”

  “Then, just in case you’re thinking about it, there’s something you should know. His reputation isn’t completely deserved.”

  “Reputation?”

  “As a player. At one time it was true. And he’s still a notorious flirt, which I’m sure you’ve figured out already. But he’s settled down the last couple of years. The rest of the world still believes the worst of him, and he hasn’t done anything to change their opinion.”

  “I appreciate the advice but it isn’t necessary. My father and I are leaving in a couple weeks.”

  “Too bad. I think you’d be good for him.” With that, she left to collect her son.

  Maryanne didn’t know what to make of the observation.

  There was a definite attraction between her and Dusty, going both ways. It was hardly enough to base a relationship on, however. Especially for two people with as many challenges as they had to overcome—distance and lifestyle being just two.

  She knew from personal experience the strain a lengthy separation put on a couple. Maryanne wanted and needed a man she could trust. One who wouldn’t ask her to wait for him and then leave her or find someone new. Been there, done that—twice—and didn’t plan on a third time.

  “Come on, Cookie,” her father called. “We’re ready to roll.”

  Maryanne walked alongside the horse trailer to the truck, disposing of her empty paper coffee cup in a trash barrel. Her father, Dusty and another man she’d noticed earlier were gathered, their voices booming in order to be heard over the chugging of the engine.

  “We’ve decided I’m riding with Boyd here,” her father said. “You can go with Dusty in his truck.”

  Maryanne swallowed her surprise. “I thought I’d be riding with you.” She peered at the truck. It resembled a small semi, complete with two chrome steps for climbing up into the cab.

  “You’re more than welcome to,” Dusty said with a glint in his eyes. “There’s only two seats, however.”

  “Oh.”

  “Boyd’ll enjoy having you along, won’t you, buddy?”

  The man flashed a wide, crooked-tooth grin. “You bet.”

  “And your dad can ride with me.”

  “I…ah….” Great. She’d dug herself into a big hole with no means of crawling out.

  “Go with Dusty, Cookie.” Her dad put an arm around her shoulders. “He’ll take better care of you than that rascal will.”

  Boyd chuckled robustly. “You’re smart not to trust me with her, Gil. Then again, I’m not so sure you should trust Dusty, either.”

  “Let’s get a move on,” Dex shouted from across the way. He was helping Josie load Matt into his truck. “At this rate, it’ll be midnight before we arrive in Albuquerque.”

  Dusty took hold of Maryanne’s hand much like he had the night they went to The Spotted Horse Saloon.

  She told herself she had nothing to worry about being stuck alone with him in such close proximity for hours on end. That didn’t stop the butterflies inside her stomach from banging into one another.

  His truck was parked behind Dex’s. Josie waved as they walked by, and Maryanne felt her cheeks burn. All that insisting she and Dusty weren’t dating…for what? Josie was no doubt drawing a different conclusion.

  He opened the front passenger door for Maryanne. Track suddenly popped up from where he’d been sleeping in the backseat next to Dusty’s suitcase.

  “Hey, boy. I didn’t see you back there.” Once seated, she reached over the seat and patted the dog’s head. He responded by licking her hand. “You brought your dog,” she said when Dusty had settled in behind the steering wheel.

  “I always do if I’m driving somewhere. He has to stay with a friend, though, once we arrive. Dogs aren’t allowed on the event grounds.”

  “Poor Track.”

  “Trust me, he doesn’t mind. She spoils him.” Dusty started the truck and pulled into line behind Dex. With the huge truck and trailer, the three vehicles made an impressive convoy.

  Maryanne should have kept her mouth shut but she didn’t. “Another old girlfriend from grade school?” Thank goodness Josie wasn’t there to hear.

  “High school, as a matter of fact. Though I don’t think my crush was reciprocated.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Mrs. Leonhart.” Dusty’s grin grew. “She was my English teacher for two years. I wouldn’t have passed my college entrance exams without her help. Heck, I might not have even graduated. She’s the only person who ever encouraged me to write. A few years ago her husband’s company transferred him to Albuquerque. I visit every time I’m there.”

  Their slow-moving caravan reached the main road. One by one, each vehicle turned onto it, with the huge truck and trailer taking the longest time and greatest effort.

  “She was right to encourage you,” Maryanne said. “I read your screenplay last night.”

  “You did?”

  “It’s good. Very good.”

  He didn’t speak right away.

  “I’m serious, Dusty. I’m not just saying that to be nice or because you’re helping my father.”

  “I thought it was good, but it’s hard to be critical of your own writing.”

  “I can’t imagine a producer not being interested if you can just get it in front of them.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. A production intern I’ve worked with in a couple films called me last night. Sundown Pictures is going to be at the Albuquerque rodeo scouting locations for a new film. They’re a small independent outfit, but have put out some quality films in recent years.”

  “Are you going to try and meet with the producer?” Maryanne sensed Dusty’s excitement. Hers soared right along with his.

  “Damn straight I am. This is the break I’ve been waiting for.” He reached across the seat for her hand again and clasped it tightly. “I really need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “I’m going to have only one chance to sell myself to this guy. I need you to teach me what to say and how to act so I don’t blow it.”

  “OKAY, LET’S GO OVER the list one more time.”

  “Image,” Dusty said, watching the road.

  He and Maryanne were leading the caravan, ahead of the truck and trailer. Dex, Josie and Matt brought up the rear. They kept in constant contact by cell phone. So far, three hundred miles into the trip, the arrangement was working.

  Dusty and Maryanne
hadn’t spent the entire time grooming him for his meeting with Sundown Pictures. They’d veered off topic frequently. Their conversation, however, had remained general in nature rather than personal. Neither of them brought up their kiss. Except for the memory forever seared in Dusty’s mind, it might not have happened.

  “And what about your image?” Maryanne prompted.

  “I need to look the part. It raises my perceived value.”

  “Right. Dress similar to what you wore the night we went to dinner.”

  So, she’d noticed. And wasn’t nearly as immune to him as she pretended to be.

  “What next?”

  “A good opening line.”

  “Which includes…?”

  “Putting my hand out to shake his. And I do this because,” he answered before she could ask, “it subconsciously sets him up to follow my lead.”

  “Right. And don’t forget eye contact. It will get you further than that smile you’re always flashing.”

  She’d noticed that, too.

  Dusty promptly slammed the door on his thoughts. They weren’t doing him any good. Maryanne had no interest in him. Wait, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She’d kissed him back plenty, and it had been great. She just wasn’t willing to act on that interest.

  “Sure you don’t want to be my wingman?” he asked, only half joking.

  “You don’t need any help.”

  “Really? Isn’t that what you’re giving me now?”

  “I’m teaching. It’s up to you to put the lessons to good use in the field. And you will, I have no doubt.”

  “Thanks.” The vote of confidence affected Dusty more than he would have guessed. Very few people had given him one outside of the rodeo arena. Certainly not his father.

  His cell phone abruptly rang. “Yeah, Dex,” he said.

  “There’s a rest stop a mile ahead. We need to pull in.”

  “Okay.”

  “Another break?” Maryanne inquired after he’d disconnected.

  “Dex didn’t say but I’m sure Matt is getting restless again.”

  “Maybe a change of vehicles would help,” she offered.

  “You’d be okay if he rode with us for a ways?”

  “Of course. Matt’s a sweet kid.”