“Morning.”
“Good morning, Dustin! How did you sleep?” Jenna’s smile brightened the room.
“Better than usual. Breakfast smells great.”
“After your meeting with the hands, we’ll head out to Tubac,” Jenna said, placing a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of him.
He’d died and gone to heaven.
Breakfast was fun. Jenna steered the conversation in the direction of Theodore Roosevelt and his part in the making of the National Park System.
That must be the topic of Andy’s next reading comprehension essay. Jenna impressed him as a great teacher. He wondered why she’d become one.
When he found himself thinking about her far too much, Dustin excused himself and made his way to the bunkhouse to meet the men. All of them were good guys and hard workers, and they obviously kept the ranch running smoothly. The meeting was over in record time.
When he went back up the path to the main house, he noticed that Jenna had moved her forest-green Chevy SUV closer to his route so he didn’t have far to walk.
The ride went fast without a lot of traffic on either I-10 or I-19 South. They talked and laughed and, on a couple of occasions, he glanced at Jenna and noticed her looking back at him.
The three of them pulled up to his apartment building almost an hour later.
“Andy, will you hand me my crutches?” Dustin asked. “I’ll give those stairs a try.”
Jenna sighed loudly. “You’re really going to try to climb three floors? Isn’t that the reason you’re staying at Tom’s ranch, so you don’t have to make that climb up and down? You can’t go up there. It’s too soon after surgery.”
“I’m not asking you for more help,” he replied.
“Just tell me what you need,” she said with a hint of impatience in her voice. “And give me the key.”
He shook his head. Damn that bull for doing this to him. Scribbling a quick list, he told her where she could find everything.
“I’ll owe you a nice night out when this cast is off.” He looked deep into her spring-green eyes. “I mean it.”
Jenna blushed and laughed. “Promises, promises. Don’t worry. I’ll remind you.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice.
“You won’t have to remind me. I won’t forget.”
And he wouldn’t. His promise to Tom didn’t mean that they couldn’t go out and have a good time.
Right?
Jenna never expected that Dustin would live above a shop called Tubac Treasures. It was a charming shop, too, painted in bright primary colors, the window filled with all sorts of Western treasures.
“Here’s the key to my apartment,” Dustin said, handing her a silver key on a PBR key chain. “The entrance is out back.”
She didn’t mind going up to his apartment. What she did mind was rifling through his belongings. It would be like invading his privacy.
“Would you like to come with me, Andy?” Jenna asked.
“Nah. I’ll stay here with Uncle Dustin. I want to hear about his ride on Black Pearl.”
“Okay.”
Noticing a small key on his key chain, she guessed that it would open his mailbox, so she decided to pick up Dustin’s mail on her way upstairs. His box was packed full—junk mail, a couple of magazines and a huge manila envelope from the sports agent who also represented Tom. Jenna knew immediately what the overstuffed envelope meant—fan letters, most of which were probably from women.
Dustin always was a chick magnet.
She would like to think that she was immune to his charms. She could appreciate a good-looking guy as well as anyone, but Dustin Morgan wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to be another notch on his belt. Besides, they didn’t have anything in common except that he rode bulls and she liked to watch bull riding. That was all.
When she slipped the key into his apartment door, it opened immediately. It was so stuffy inside that she searched for the thermostat in the living room and clicked it to Cool.
She looked around and was surprised to see that the apartment was nicely decorated. Could he have done this himself? Or was it the handiwork of a girlfriend?
She froze. Did Dustin have a special woman in his life?
Telling herself it didn’t matter—she wasn’t interested, remember?—she moved into the bedroom. She didn’t know what to expect—mirrors?—but it was neat and clean and conservative. The king bed was covered by a brown plaid comforter. Two dressers made of thick dark wood and a couple of matching nightstands were the only other pieces in the room.
Western art adorned the walls—beautiful ink drawings painted in watercolors. There were pictures of cowboys riding bulls and broncs, old pueblo villages, saguaros, mountains. She was particularly drawn to a beautiful painting of the old San Xavier del Bac Mission, on the outskirts of Tucson. It was perfect in every detail.
The artist was talented—very talented. She squinted to make out the name, but could only see a capital M. She’d have to remember to ask Dustin who the artist was. He or she must be in residence in Tubac, and she’d love to invest in some of their work.
Checking her watch, she realized she’d already been in the apartment for ten minutes. Hurrying to his dresser, she pulled open a drawer and grabbed shirts, sweatpants and clean socks and—she tried not to look—underwear, along with a pair of sneakers from the closet. She packed everything inside a duffel bag she’d found on the closet shelf.
She paused to admire the San Xavier painting again, then set the thermostat back to Off and hurried downstairs before she lingered to explore the other bedroom.
She’d learned a lot about Dustin in this trip. He lived alone. He was an art collector. And someone—a girlfriend?—had probably decorated his apartment for him.
Back at the car, she put the duffel bag in the backseat next to Andy and settled back in the driver’s seat.
“I can’t thank you enough, Jenna,” Dustin said.
“No problem.” She waved his concern away. “You have a beautiful apartment. Who decorated it for you?”
“I did it myself,” he said.
Strike one.
“And you live alone right now?” She knew it wasn’t any of her business but she couldn’t help herself.
He nodded. “I’ve always lived by myself.”
Strike two.
“And the artist whose paintings you collect…well, he or she is just fabulous. I particularly like the one of San Xavier Mission. It’s magnificent.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She got into the driver’s seat. “Could you tell me the name of the artist? I’d like to commission another one.”
Dustin laughed. “I don’t know if I can tell you the artist’s name. He’s very exclusive.”
“I’d really like to know.”
“Okay,” he said. “Since you’ve been so good to me, I’ll tell you his name.” He winked. “His name is Dustin Morgan.”
“What?” She was stunned. “You’re the artist?”
“I am.”
Strike three.
Dustin Morgan was an artist—an exceptional one. Who would have thought?
Chapter Three
Dustin was amazed that Jenna thought so much of his paintings. She was as excited as if she’d just discovered the next da Vinci.
Da Vinci he wasn’t.
As far as Dustin was concerned, he didn’t want to talk about his art. He wanted to eat. They’d stopped for lunch at a little hole in the wall that had the best Mexican food in all of Arizona.
“I paint for fun, Jenna,” he said, hoping that would end the discussion.
She paused from eating her chicken chimichanga. “But you are so talented!”
“I sell my work at the store downstairs from my apartment.”
“But you’re bigger than Tubac Treasures. I mean, I minored in contemporary art in college, and I can see how good you are.”
How could he make her understand how he felt a
bout his art?
“Jenna, my drawing and painting is just a hobby. It’s not who I am. I’m a bull rider.”
“You’re so wrong, Dustin. You’re an artist, too.”
She didn’t get it. Probably because she had always been driven about everything.
From what he’d heard about Jenna throughout the years via Tom, she hadn’t changed much. She always thought big and jumped right in to make something happen, whereas he was content just doing what he did—bull riding and watercolors.
He squirted more jalapeño sauce on his tamale. “When it stops being fun and starts becoming work, then that’s when I quit.”
Andy wiped at his mouth with a handful of napkins. Andy looked like he had more taco on him than he was initially served. “School is work, Uncle Dustin. I want to quit.”
Jenna shot Dustin an exasperated look.
“I didn’t mean school, Andy. You need to go to school so you can learn as much as you can and eventually get a good job,” Dustin said, hoping he could clarify things.
“I’m going to quit school as soon as I can and be a bull rider like you and Dad and win a lot of money.”
Jenna opened her mouth to say something, then shot a pleading look in his direction.
Dustin leaned toward Andy. “I wanted to go to college after high school. I wanted to study business and how to manage animals. It’s called animal husbandry. Both of those things are really important when you want to run your own ranch, which I want to do someday.”
Andy appeared to be listening, so he continued. “I couldn’t go to college because my parents needed help on their ranch. So, I worked at the ranch during the day, rode bulls on the weekend, and went to night school three nights a week.”
“When did you study?” Jenna asked.
“Every spare moment I could,” Dustin replied. “It wasn’t easy, but I wanted something to fall back on when I retired from the sport.”
Jenna smiled at him and nodded. “You deserve a lot of credit, Dustin.”
“Thanks.” He basked in her smile for a while, they turned to Andy. “And your dad deserves a lot of credit, too, right Andy? I’m sure you know that he’s taking classes online. True?”
Andy nodded solemnly. He knew when he was outnumbered.
“So, two bull riders in the top ten of the rankings, and your aunt, Jenna, who moved here to help you pass, can’t be wrong.”
“Oh, okay,” Andy said grudgingly, getting up from the table. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”
Jenna nodded. “You’re excused.”
After Andy left, Jenna shook her head. “Congratulations on getting your degree, Dustin. Now I know why you turned down that scholarship to UNLV. Your parents needed you.”
She reached across the table and put her hand over his.
It was an impulsive gesture, but when she didn’t move it away, he stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. Her eyes grew as wide as the belt buckle he wore. All too soon, Andy returned from the restroom, and Dustin pulled his hand away.
He shrugged. “I just did what I had to do.”
Sometimes he thought it was all for nothing, because all too soon his parents gave up, sold the place and moved on. That had hurt him. He’d loved that ranch and had worked hard alongside his parents so they could keep it in the family. He always thought that his dad had called it quits too soon.
Dustin had hoped to buy back the ranch after he started climbing in the PBR standings, but it had virtually disappeared. A developer subdivided it into housing and a golf course.
Andy joined them in the booth and reached for his soda.
Jenna cleared her throat. “Dustin, speaking of school, have you taken any art classes?”
He grunted. Jenna certainly had a one-track mind.
“No. I haven’t, but I’ve studied Western art on my own.”
“Studied on your own? That’s really wonderful, Dustin.”
Dustin bit back a grin. It figured that Jenna, the eternal bookworm, would be impressed by that.
“Everyone done?” he asked, changing the subject. Inside his cast, his ankle was throbbing and itching. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure the damn thing.
Dustin peeled off some bills and dropped them on the table, including a hefty tip for the service. Jenna was digging in her purse for her wallet, but he waved her away. “I got it, Jenna.”
She smiled her appreciation. “Next time we all go out, it’ll be my treat.”
A big hit of pleasure washed over him. He’d like nothing better than to go out with them again. Or even better on a bonafide date with Jenna.
Jenna stood at the kitchen sink peeling potatoes for dinner. Dustin was at the bunkhouse, talking to the ranch hands. Andy was shooting hoops in the yard.
The ride to Tubac had been a welcome change from two weeks of getting Andy up for summer school, tutoring him at night and doing the cooking and cleaning. Until today, she hadn’t been off the ranch in a week.
Maybe this weekend, they could go to Old Tucson, visit the movie studio where they made westerns, or even go out for lunch or dinner.
Of course she’d invite Dustin. He had to be bored sitting around most of the day with his ankle up.
Dustin. She was always a little too jumpy with him and felt that she always had to be “on.” He made her so nervous—her heart racing, her cheeks heating and her mouth bone dry—that she just couldn’t relax and be herself.
She had to forget about him and concentrate on the task at hand—getting Andy up to speed on fourth-grade reading and math. He was making excellent progress, but he wasn’t having fun. She’d have to change things up, try something besides his reading workbook. But what would pique his interest? Comic books?
Out of the window, she could see Dustin struggling to walk with his crutches up the narrow path from the bunkhouse on uneven terrain. She really should ask one of the hands to widen the path. It was overgrown with prickly pear cactus and other desert vegetation.
Wiping her hands on a towel, she hurried outside to help Dustin. She didn’t want him to fall again. “Maybe we should get a wheelchair for you.”
He answered her suggestion with a scowl. “I’m fine, Jenna.”
“Well, be careful.” His bare toes were inches away from the sharp needles of a prickly pear cactus.
He followed her gaze. “I know about cacti. I’ve lived in Arizona all my life.”
“So have I,” Jenna said firmly. “So don’t get stuck.”
“I don’t need a nurse. I’m a bull rider, for heaven’s sake. I can manage a pair of crutches.”
“Fact one: I am not a nurse. And fact two: It was that sport that put you in that cast, cowboy. If you can’t stand to be helped, then just stay in the guest room and starve to death.” Her cheeks heated. “And stop your complaining. You know, I could have been in Ireland today, but instead I’m here.”
Jenna couldn’t believe she’d said that. Turning, she ran down the path, up the porch steps and into the house. Leaning against the back of the door, she caught her breath.
“Why did I say that?” she muttered.
“Say what, Aunt Jenna?” Andy asked from the doorway of the kitchen.
She jumped. The last she knew, Andy was playing basketball.
“It’s nothing, sweetie. Go back to your game.”
He shrugged and left. Obviously, the explanation wasn’t that exciting.
Dustin. She could hear him struggling and grunting up the steep porch steps. The way he was acting, she should just let him fend for himself.
But she wanted him to get better, so she was going to help him if he liked it or not. Then Mr. Tough Cowboy could get back to the tough sport of bull riding and out of her hair.
Complaining? He wasn’t complaining. If anything, he was just stating fact.
Dustin vowed to be more appreciative of Jenna’s help. He just wasn’t a good patient—he preferred to take care of himself.
But what did Jenna mean about Ireland?
As he struggled up the steps to the porch, he tried to remember what she’d said.
I could have been in Ireland today.
She wouldn’t have given up a trip to Ireland to take care of him, would she? Nah. She really didn’t even know him, and throughout the years, she’d barely spoken to him.
If she gave up a trip for anyone, it would have been for Andy.
He planned on getting Jenna alone and asking her to clarify what she’d meant.
Andy ran up the porch steps. “Uncle Dustin, what are you going to do now?”
“I think I’ll talk to your Aunt Jenna for a while.”
“Do you wanna shoot some hoops?” Andy asked.
“I’ll play with you later tonight. Deal?”
Andy burst into a big grin, then it faded as his shoulders slumped. “I forgot. I have to be tutored tonight.”
“Maybe, if things go well with your tutoring, it won’t take that long, and we can play. Cool?”
“Awesome.”
They bumped knuckles, and Andy leaped off the stairs and was gone.
He’d love to be that young and agile again. Recently, he’d been thinking of hanging up his spurs and settling down—after he won the finals in Vegas, of course. He wanted a ranch like the Bar R and a wife to share it with. Maybe even a couple of kids.
Dustin sighed. Here he was only thirty, and he was thinking about his life like an old man. The best was yet to come, but it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be as a bull rider. Bull riders had short careers. There weren’t many still riding over the age of thirty-five.
He caught a glimpse of Jenna through the front window, reading a magazine in the living room. He could almost picture walking through the door after a hard day’s work and being welcomed home by her. They’d kiss and talk about their day. Their children would be totally loved, perfectly behaved and their report cards would contain all A’s.
And later, at night, he and his wife would make love.
Jenna swung the front door open, pulling him out of his daydream. “Don’t worry. I’m not opening the door for you, I just wanted to get some fresh air.” She left the door open and went by him in a blur, leaping off the steps of the porch just like Andy had.
How to Lasso a Cowboy Page 4