Home on the Ranch: Montana Rodeo Star

by Mary Sullivan

  Dusty was sophisticated.

  She wasn’t.

  Maybe she should follow his lead and pretend she was cool with everything. But she wasn’t. She was happy, downright bruised with radiance, while Dusty was his old happy-go-lucky self. It hurt...and she was so screwed up.

  He’d given her one night. He hadn’t promised a lifetime or an eternity, even though she was infinitely different and changed to her core.

  She accepted that.

  So what was he trying to tell her with his drastic mood swing from his middle-of-the-night tenderness to this morning’s fakery?

  She struggled to come up with ordinary talk.

  “The revival committee is coming for tea this afternoon,” she said quietly. “You’ll finally have your chance to meet all of them.”

  “Heyyyy. Great. Looking forward to it.”

  Max stepped out of the stable and walked back to the house, to the office where she had bills to pay and a confused heart to nurse through to a realistic place.

  They’d used condoms, so there would be no pregnancy.

  He had given her a gift of sensuality and luminosity.

  She could deal with it being a onetime thing. She could settle for less.

  But, oh, she wanted more.

  Chapter 11

  When Max stepped out of the stable leaving Dusty alone, he leaned his head against Thunder’s neck and exhaled sharply.

  He hoped he’d been his normal carefree self with Max. He might have fooled her into thinking all was back to normal, but he didn’t know for sure.

  He wasn’t an actor.

  He wasn’t used to subterfuge.

  With Dusty, what you saw was what you got.

  While she’d seemed happy to go back to normal, albeit a new quiet and relaxed normal, Dusty was rattled and confused.

  Max had enjoyed every minute of last night. He’d made certain of that.

  He’d enjoyed it, too. It had touched him more deeply than he had intended.

  It was supposed to have been about her and only her. He was supposed to have been able to give her a gift and walk away unscathed. Untouched.

  Dear Lordy, she’d touched him deep in his soul.

  No. A great big no.

  He hadn’t intended that. It shouldn’t be happening.

  This morning she talked about the revival committee. She didn’t seem to expect more. She hadn’t hung all over him. She hadn’t whispered sweet nothings about getting together the coming night.

  She’d seemed content. Happy.

  So why did he feel lost? Unmoored from reality? Unanchored in a sea of...of...

  He didn’t know.

  He’d lost the harbor of his untroubled equilibrium.

  Far as he could tell, she wasn’t going to try to tie him down. She wasn’t expecting more than what he had given her.

  He smacked his hand against the stall railing, angry.

  Angry?

  He should be relieved that Max made no demands.

  Why did it piss him off that she seemed satisfied and didn’t want more?

  She should ask for more. She deserved more.

  She deserved some guy who would pamper her and move heaven and earth to make her happy.

  She lived too serious an existence. Too many times in her life, she had settled for far less than she was worth.

  Filled to the brim with outrage, he stomped toward the house and into the office.

  “You deserve more fun, dammit.”

  She jumped up from her chair. It banged against the wall. “Dusty? Are you okay?”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I think the entire county did.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?” She spread her hands. “Dusty, I don’t know what you want.”

  “Yeah, well, me, either. Okay?” And wasn’t that the truth? And wasn’t that the crux of his problems?

  Unflappable, easygoing, devil-may-care Dustin Lincoln’s calm existence had been shattered, blown out of the water by a lousy hamstring and a loose knee and a polo match and a woman who dressed like a man.

  Everything had changed.

  He wanted to go back to his first day here and to his not liking her. To not lov—

  Oh, no. He did not almost think that.

  No freaking way.

  He yearned for his old, healthy, undamaged, carefree life.

  He needed...needed... Aw, hell. He needed what?

  “Dusty,” Max said, “stop whatever is going on inside of your head. It was one night between a pair of consenting adults. You gave me a gift. I’m not expecting more. Okay?”

  Okay. Yeah. Okay.

  He stepped back out of the house onto the veranda. A twinge in his leg warned him to cut out the childish tantrum. All of Dusty’s stomping around had hurt his knee.

  He didn’t like having a faulty leg.

  He didn’t like being damaged.

  He liked to be whole and healthy and on top of the world.

  Well, duh, Dusty, doesn’t everyone?

  His mom wouldn’t believe him if she saw him in this state.

  Dusty didn’t stomp around.

  She used to say that he didn’t have a temper and that he’d never gone through the terrible twos.

  She said he was the most even-tempered child she’d ever met.

  Was she kidding herself, too proud of her offspring to recognize his faults?

  Or was Dusty changing?

  And if he was changing, why wasn’t it for the better?

  Why was he behaving worse?

  Why did he feel worse?

  Walking across the yard, the answer to his foul mood hit him like the ground coming up to meet him when a bull like Cyclone threw him off.

  He wanted more of Max.

  He wanted last night all over again.

  And again and again and again.

  Maxine Porter had burrowed in under his skin.

  * * *

  In early afternoon, Max raced back across the fields to the stable.

  She’d scheduled the revival committee to come to her house as a chance for Dusty to meet everyone and to go over final plans before all of the participating rodeo riders arrived to practice in a couple of days.

  Max had spent hours and hours on the phone these past few weeks organizing stable stalls and rooms and food and feed and on and on for the duration of their stay. The list had been endless.

  Thank goodness she’d hired Dusty to take care of convincing all of these people to come.

  Max rushed into the stable after helping to round up and fence in some cattle that had escaped. She did a fast job of currying Wind and then rushed across the yard.

  All of her friends’ cars were there, so everyone had already arrived.

  By now, Marvin must have introduced Dusty to the members he hadn’t yet met.

  Plenty of chatter drifted out through the screen door.

  Max toed off her boots and left them on the veranda.

  Her stomach protested that she’d missed her lunch, but she could do nothing about it until after—

  “Max doesn’t have a clue, so everyone be careful that you don’t tip her off.” That was Vy’s voice.

  What did she mean about tipping Max off? To what?

  “She would be furious,” Nadine said. “I couldn’t believe how hard it was the first time I saw you in the diner, Dusty, and had to pretend I didn’t know why you were in town.”

  Bewildered, Max sucked in a quiet breath.

  “Me, too,” Vy said. “It was hard because I know how stubborn Max is. She would have been angry.”

  “Worse than that,” Honey Armstrong piped up. “She would be hurt if she knew.”

  Hurt? An ominous dread settled into Max’s e
mpty stomach.

  “I said right from the start this was a bad idea. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now. Someone has to tell her what you’ve done.” That was Rachel, the mother of two who had married Travis Read after he came to town. So, one committee member hadn’t agreed with the subterfuge. What subterfuge?

  “I wish I’d never called you to come here, Dusty,” Marvin said.

  Marvin? What was he talking about? He hadn’t called Dusty. Max had done the hiring herself.

  A memory wound its way through her, of Marvin constantly singing Dustin Lincoln’s praises and of him urging her to consider Dusty over the other candidates.

  “For all the good it did,” Marvin said. “I shouldn’t have betrayed her.”

  And yet Marvin, the closest to a father figure Max had ever known, had betrayed her without a second thought. It was obvious he hadn’t wanted any of her rodeo ideas to be implemented.

  Otherwise, why bring in someone who’d been passionate about adding bull riding back in and, at the start at least, about getting rid of the polo?

  Marvin hadn’t acted alone. The entire committee had known why Dusty was here. Her girlfriends had betrayed her, too.

  Her stomach cramped. She clutched her middle.

  “Sure, we’ve still got the polo match to contend with,” Dusty said, “but at least the bull riding is back on the agenda.”

  Like a haze lifting on a foggy day, everything cleared for Max.

  Marvin had all but directed her to consider Dusty and no other. Why? Because the women who she had thought were friends had decided that her ideas lacked merit.

  They had called this guy in to make her change her mind, not to help her to run the rodeo.

  And yet, they had behaved as though they were surprised that she had hired someone. They had pretended to be indignant that she was spending the money.

  Through every phase of her life she had known betrayal by the people she should have been able to trust.

  Her father had died early in her life and her mother, the one person who should have protected her, had married a miserable, predatory man, only so that she wouldn’t have to be alone.

  Her mother should have had more courage. She and Max would have gotten by somehow.

  Instead, she had exposed Max to him.

  Then she had died, leaving Max in his care legally, with no option but to protect herself by her own wits.

  Now the relationships she had forged with these women had also been proved to be false.

  She saw Marvin in the corner watching her with dismay and guilt written all over his face.

  Marvin. At one point he had been her savior. Now he was as guilty as the rest of them of treachery.

  What was one more betrayal on top of all others?

  It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

  She should be used to people not being who they said they were.

  But it hurt. Oh, how she ached.

  She wanted to curl up into a ball in a dark room and never face the light of day again.

  Dusty! What had last night been about?

  Had all of that sweetness been about changing her mind? About manipulating her?

  He’d done a great job of it.

  He turned around and saw her. His face fell. He reached out one hand to her.

  “Max. I’m sorry. Don’t—”

  She didn’t stay to hear what he had to say.

  She raced upstairs to a chorus of women calling her name, but didn’t throw herself onto the bed in a fit of self-pity.

  When she heard other feet rushing up the stairs, she locked her door.

  Someone pounded on it.

  “Max, let’s talk.” Vy.

  No. Let’s not talk.

  The time for talking had been months ago when they had decided to install a spy on her ranch.

  In her home.

  She gasped. Inside her body.

  Instead of hiding under the covers, she hauled an old suitcase out of the back of her closet and threw in a handful of clothes and her few toiletries.

  Hearing the urgency of a gaggle of women whispering outside her bedroom door, she couldn’t go back out into the hallway, so she stalked to her window and opened it.

  A grim smile formed on her lips. Dusty hadn’t taken down the ladder.

  After tossing her suitcase to the ground, she skimmed down the ladder, rushing to get away before anyone figured out what she was doing.

  She couldn’t stay here, not on this ranch with Marvin and Dusty, and not in this town with a committee full of women who hadn’t had the least bit of faith in her.

  At her truck, she tossed her suitcase into the bed.

  Josh ran out from the stable. “Whatcha doin’, Mom? Where are you going?”

  “We are taking a small trip.” She hadn’t packed anything for him, but the ladies wouldn’t have let her go down the hallway to Josh’s room. They wouldn’t have let her leave the house, or the ranch. Normally, she’d stand her ground—give a piece of her mind, if warranted. But these were her closest friends... She was so hurt and bewildered by it all she couldn’t look any of them in the eye right now.

  “Climb into the truck and put on your seat belt.”

  Josh followed orders, maybe intrigued by the spontaneity of it. Max never did anything on the spur of the moment.

  They drove into town and Max stopped at the bank. She used the ATM to take her last four hundred dollars out of her lone account.

  On the way back to the truck, she ran into Graham.

  “Is Josh in the truck?” he asked.

  Graham chose the wrong day to confront Max again. She’d had it with people hurting her. She poked her finger in Graham’s chest.

  “Listen to me, you snake. If you ever come near me again, or if you come near my son, I will tell everyone in this town about the things you tried to do to me when I was just a teenager.”

  “They wouldn’t believe you.”

  “I sure would.” The harsh female voice caught Max off guard and she spun around.

  Eleanor Riddel, the owner of the local grocery store, lit a cigarette and exhaled roughly before saying, “I’d believe every word of it. Through the years, I’ve instructed the girls who work in my store to keep away from you.”

  About to step past Graham, she said, “The whole town knows who you are, Graham. Leave Max and her son alone. She’s a better person than you can ever hope to be.”

  Graham walked away heavily.

  Max stared at Eleanor openmouthed. “I didn’t realize anyone else knew.”

  “We didn’t know things, but we sort of guessed. Remember how my hubby, God rest his soul, often came out to the ranch to hand-deliver your groceries?”

  Max nodded.

  “It was to check up on you. I told him to look for signs, you know, like bruising.”

  Max remembered other people coming out. How the mechanic would insist that he could deliver Graham’s car when it was done. He would also insist on saying hi to Max.

  She remembered the way he used to look at her, and now she knew why. He was checking for signs of damage.

  The people in town had been monitoring the situation, all while she had thought she was alone.

  “If he comes around you again,” Eleanor said, “I’ll head out to his ranch and kick him in the nuts myself.”

  Max smiled. Somehow, she had the feeling Graham was history in her life.

  “Thank you, Eleanor, but I think he got the message.”

  Max climbed back into her truck, warmed by the invisible support that had always been here for her, but still reeling from the betrayal that the people closest to her should have never committed.

  She drove on out of town toward... She didn’t know. She didn’t have a clue where to go.

  If she and Josh
stayed in hotels or motels, her money would last only a few days.

  She had no one on whom to depend.

  She was lost.

  Only one person had been really and truly kind to her lately, and irony of ironies, it had been Dusty’s mother.

  Taking a chance and pulling onto the shoulder of the road, she retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and punched in the number Dusty had given her.

  When Charlie answered, Max said only, “Where do you live?”

  There must have been distress in her voice, because Charlie gave her directions and then asked, “Are you coming now?”

  “Yeah,” Max whispered.

  “Good. See you soon, sweetie.”

  Max ended the connection and pulled back onto the highway.

  An uncertain voice from the passenger seat said, “Mom?” Josh sounded small and insecure. Guilt flooded Max.

  “We’re taking a holiday, just you and me,” she said, voice as fake hearty as Dusty’s had been this morning. She winced. “That’ll be fun, won’t it, buddy?”

  Buddy. She’d never used that term with her son before. She was the adult and he was the kid.

  They weren’t buddies.

  They were mother and child, and she loved him more than she loved anyone or anything else on this earth.

  Dragging him away from home might not be smart, but she would have never left him behind.

  By the time she turned onto Charlie’s property, Josh was sound asleep, head lolling and drool running from the side of his mouth.

  Charlie, seated on a big wicker armchair on a broad flat veranda, stood and crossed the yard.

  Max got out of the truck and walked into her arms.

  She stayed there, both on Charlie’s ranch and in Charlie’s loving, supportive presence, for two whole weeks.

  Dusty had taken one look at Max’s stricken face and realized how badly he’d screwed up.

  Before he had ever had sex with her, he should have told her the truth of why he’d come to Rodeo.

  Truth to tell, he’d forgotten. He’d become so involved in the rodeo and so invested in its success that the whys and wherefores of having arrived here had no longer mattered.

  He should have known how much it would matter to Max.

  Last night, he’d learned that under her testiness and bad humor was a heart of pure generous gold.