.o0o.
Dusty pushed back the red cloud of anger that threatened to overwhelm him. He must remain above it. Four years of war and countless other battles had taught him that it was the calm man in control who won most fights.
The man who could see and analyze his circumstance almost always came out on top. The man across from him was built like an oak tree. He would want to get in close. Get those massive arms around him and squeeze the life out of him.
Swallowing hard, he started for his target. Johnson stepped down off the boardwalk and started for him his head down like a bull, his eyes shooting fire and hate.
The two of them circled then Johnson bent at the waist and rushed him. Dusty almost smiled to himself. He’d seen it coming. Stepping to the side like a bullfighter, he threw a heavy punch that caught Johnson in the side of the head.
The man stumbled but caught himself and spun to face him.
Dusty swallowed hard as his fist screamed in pain. That had been his best punch but it had been like hitting an oak beam.
The two of them continued to circle. Dusty could see the worry in Johnson’s eyes. He wasn’t going to get close like he wanted. Not if Dusty stood off and peppered him with his fists.
As they continued to circle, Dusty’s foot rolled on a rock in the dirt. Johnson saw his opening and jumped while Dusty tried to regain his balance. Johnson’s shoulders caught Dusty just under his ribs and lifted him up off the ground.
Behind him, he heard Rebecca scream.
Dusty brought his two clenched fists down on Johnson’s back, But the man twisted, slamming Dusty into the dirt and following him down trying to drop a knee onto his throat.
Dusty rolled out of the way at the last second. Johnson followed it with a punch to Dusty’s face that felt like a sledgehammer hitting him in the dark. Before he could get away, two meaty paws wrapped around his throat.
A flash of fear filled Dusty as the man’s thumbs tried to find that weak spot that would crush his windpipes and kill him. The world began to go dark. All he could think of was Rebecca watching him die.
Fighting back against the approaching darkness, Dusty exploded with one last grasp at escaping. He brought his two arms up between Johnson’s, pushing them apart and away from his neck.
He didn’t take time to admire his move. If he didn’t get away, the man would kill him. Rolling, he brought a foot up to kick Johnson away and give himself time to get up and out of danger.
The two men scrambled to their feet, both of them sucking in great gasps of air.
Johnson smiled as he pulled in another long breath. The man was getting confident, Dusty realized. He’d survived Dusty’s best punch and taken him down into the dirt. He believed he was going to win.
Spitting out a glob of blood at the ground. Dusty smiled back at the man. The fight had shifted to the next phase. Both of them were bloodied and aware of each other’s abilities. Now it came down to who could do the most damage.
As they circled, Dusty made a quick move to the left, then shifted to the right and caught Johnson with a fist to the gut. The big man grunted in pain. Dusty stepped back before Johnson could get him in a bear hug then darted in to land two quick jabs before dancing away again.
The last punch had rocked the big man and for the first time, he saw doubt in Johnson’s eyes.
What the idiot didn’t know was that Dusty had sparred with Hank Richards for years. He’d learned long ago to stay out of reach. To use his speed and strength to wear a man down.
Johnson charged again. This time, instead of stepping to the side, Dusty met the charge directly, bringing his hands down on Johnson’s head as he brought his knee up to catch the man’s chin. A move an Englishman had shown him in a wet army camp on the banks of the Chattanooga River years earlier. A Bristol Kiss, the Englishman had called it.
Johnson fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Dusty followed him down to the ground and grabbed the man’s bloody shirt, bringing him up to meet a heavy punch to his face. Then repeated it again.
The man slumped in on himself then brought his hand up in surrender.
“Stop,” Johnson begged through a bloody mouth. “Please don’t.”
The anguish and fear in the man’s voice actually worked through the haze surrounding Dusty. He held back his cocked fist, tempted to punch the man one more time.
“Did you do it?” he asked him. “Rustle C-Bar cattle.”
The man beneath him cringed then nodded, “Yes.”
The crowd gasped and collectively shook their head as they whispered comments to each other. Dusty held the man’s stare. “And Carson?”
Jonson’s battered face turned pale as he shook his head. “No. Never.”
The look of fear in the man’s eyes looked too honest. He wasn’t lying. A sickness filled him. They might never know what had happened to John Carson.
From behind him, he heard a gun hammer click into the cocked position.
“I wouldn’t Palmer,” Jack said as he waved his pistol. Dusty spun around to see Palmer with his hand on his gun, ready to pull it and shoot him in the back. If not for Jack, he’d be dead. He would have won the fight but lost the war.
Dusty shook his head to try and clear the fog floating through his head when he felt Rebecca rush to him.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered as she gently touched his face.
“Are you sure?” he asked her with a laugh through split lips. Grunting, he started to stand up. Rebecca put out a hand to steady him but he pushed it away. This wasn’t done.
“Peabody,” Dusty called across to the banker, “You heard him. Were you financing him?”
The banker drew back as if someone had slapped him. “No. Of course not.”
Dusty nodded. They’d never prove it either way. But that wasn’t his main concern.
He studied the banker, holding his stare. Letting him know that he was his next target. “You going to give Miss Carson the same loan conditions as her brother?”
The banker hesitated then looked around at all the people watching him, waiting for his reply.
“Don’t forget,” Dusty said as he used his foot to nudge Johnson in the ribs. “You’ve lost your buyer for the ranch.”
The portly banker took a deep breath then sighed heavily. “Yes, the same conditions. A three-year schedule.”
Dusty’s shoulders slumped with relief. They had done it. They had saved the ranch.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rebecca’s jaw dropped. He’d done it. He’d saved her ranch. This rough, tough, indomitable man had once again rescued her from disaster.
What would she do without him in her life? It was over, she realized with a sinking feeling of despair. He had done it. Now he would move on. It was who he was. A passing hero. Coming into her life long enough to achieve her dreams then moving on.
She looked up at his battered face caked in blood an felt her heart break. She loved him so much and he was going to walk away. And there was nothing she could do to stop him. Nothing she could offer him that would make him stay.
Biting back a tear, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
“Come with me,” she said as she took his arm. “The sutler has a back room where I can clean you up.”
He nodded to the man lying in the dirt at his feet. “What about him?”
She snorted. “He’s not my problem. You are.”
He laughed and wiped at his bloody mouth with the back of his hand as he shot Jack a quick look. Silently asking him to deal with the mess he was leaving behind. She thought he might balk at her command, but he let her lead him to the back room where she pushed him into a chair.
The sutler’s wife appeared immediately with a cloth bag of medicines and bandages under one arm and a bowl of water under the other.
“Should I send for the doctor?” she asked.
Rebecca shook her head. “No need. The man has a head thicker than rock and this isn’t our first go-rou
nd.
The woman smiled and backed out of the room.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded as she dabbed at the cuts and bruises with a wet cloth. “We could have taken the evidence to the sheriff or Judge Benson.”
He shrugged his shoulders and almost looked contrite. “We didn’t have time. It’d have taken weeks for things would have worked their way out. Peabody wouldn’t have waited.”
She sighed heavily as she looked down at him. “The ranch isn’t worth you getting killed.”
He shrugged. That was it. No argument. He simply disagreed but wasn’t going to fight her on it. So like him, she thought, as she squeezed the bloody cloth into the bowl then returned to cleaning his face. He saw what he saw. He believed what he believed and he wouldn’t listen to anyone else.
It explained so much. He was who he was and he wouldn’t change for anyone. The thought sent a bolt of despair to her very soul.
She looked deep into his eyes or a moment then sighed with acceptance. She had to take him for who he was. She would move on with her life after he left. She wouldn’t wallow in pain and misery. At least not for too long.
No. Eventually, she would get past the hurt and loss. But she knew that in the back of her mind would always be the thought of what might have been.
“You done?” he asked. Rebecca realized she had been standing there wool-gathering, lost in thoughts of the future that would not be.
Rebecca nodded as she placed the wet cloth in the water and started to arranged and organize the medicine bag. She couldn’t look at him. He would see her thoughts spread across her face. He would pity her and that would devastate her at every level.
Dusty cleared his throat as he stood up from the chair.
“I believe you would agree that I’ve fulfilled the duties of foreman. Satisfactorily you might say.”
She took a quick breath, here it comes, she thought. The words that were going to rip her in two.
“Yes,” she said without looking at him. “You have done all you said you would do.”
“And,” he continued. “You won’t have a problem finding a new foreman.”
She bit her lip. Unable to say the words. Instead, she simply nodded as she rerolled a bandage that had been perfectly wrapped already. It was the only way to hide her shaking fingers.
“In that case,” he said with a solemnity that pulled at her heart. “I’ll be giving my notice.”
It was like being kicked in the stomach. Words that would echo through her mind for the rest of her life. She clenched her teeth to stop herself from crying in front of him.
“You don’t have to,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard. “You could keep the job if you wanted to.”
Every nerve tingled with fear. She had nearly begged him to stay. Begged him to love her.
“I can’t,” he said with a sad sigh.
“Why not?” she asked, still unable to turn and look at him directly.
“Because,” he said as he pulled her around to face him. His stare held hers, sending a secret message. “A foreman can’t do this with his boss,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her.
Her world slammed to a halt. Dusty Rhodes was kissing her. The world had shifted on its axis. How was this possible. These and a thousand other thoughts flashed through her mind before she became lost in the kiss and surrendered to him.
His strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. Her arms instinctively slid up around his wide shoulders, hanging on for dear life.
The kiss continued, deep and soulful until he winced and pulled away.
Her heart fell with the realization that she had hurt his split lip.
He laughed and stared into her soul before pulling back. Her heart felt the loss of his embrace to its very core.
“I think it is only fair to warn you,” he said, “that I plan on courting you, Miss Carson. In fact, if it is acceptable. I thought I would call on you this Sunday, perhaps we could go on a picnic.”
She could only stare at the man in disbelief. The man had shaken her world with his kiss and he was talking about a picnic.
“Why?” she asked as she tried to understand. Everything was in movement. Her foundations of belief and understanding had been torn out from under her.
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Because a man can’t walk away from a woman like you. Not without trying. The universe won’t allow it.”
Her heart melted. He did care.
“I thought,” he continued, “if I spent the next year breaking some of those broncs that flow through Jack’s valley, I could sell them to the army and maybe have enough. Enough, that you might see me as more than a saddle tramp and maybe then we could talk about marriage.”
She gasped as she locked her knees to stop herself from collapsing. Marriage. Had he just asked her to marry him? That was impossible.
“You want to marry me, maybe a year from now, once you have enough money?”
His face grew pink beneath his three-day-old beard and his tan as he blushed with embarrassment. He shrugged. “I know I’m rougher than last year’s cob. And a beautiful woman like you could have any man in three states. But I thought…”
“Dusty Rhodes, you are insane” she interrupted. “If you think I am waiting for a year, you are more thick-headed than I thought.” Taking a deep breath, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him back through the sutler’s store and onto the boardwalk outside.
“Where are we going?” he asked with a curious frown.
“To Judge Benson,” she said as she continued to pull at him. “If you think I am letting you have an opportunity to change your mind, you are crazy. We will be married today. Not a year from now.”
He stopped, forcing her to stop and turn to face him.
“Are you serious?” he asked. “You’d be willing to marry me? I’m not bringing anything to the marriage. I know …”
She reached up and gently placed a finger on his lips. “Dusty Rhodes. You are more than any woman could ever hope for in a husband. A handsome hero with a heart of gold. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. And I refuse to spend another day, or night for that matter, without you.”
His eyes opened wide then he slowly smiled. “Miss Rebecca Carson. A man would be willing to die for a woman like you.”
She smiled up at him. “I know. You’ve proven that more than once.”
He smiled back down at her, locking her eyes with his. The two of them stood there, sharing unspoken messages of love.
“Are you sure?” he asked her, breaking the moment.
She laughed. “I have never been surer of anything in my life. A woman doesn’t let a man like you get away. She … I promise I will never make you regret marrying me.”
He smiled, “Rebecca, I love you. I will move heaven and earth for you. Just tell me where you want me to put them.”
And with that, they came back together. Their lips caressing, taking and giving. Right there in front of everyone, they were declaring to the world their love for each other.
Her heart melted with happiness. This man loved her. Her high desert cowboy. Her saddle tramp. He would be hers. And she would be his. They would build a life together. A life worth living.
Epilogue
Rebecca watched as her son played with Jenny’s youngest daughter on the rug in their cabin. Henry and Hanna were outside following their father and their Unca Dusty.
She and Jenny made a point of visiting each other at least monthly. They said it was for the opportunity for the two youngest to play together, but in reality, it was an opportunity for two young women to talk about the trials and tribulations of motherhood.
Or to gossip if the opportunity arose.
“Have you heard from Hank Richards?” Jenny asked as she handed her daughter a rattle.
Little Amy took the toy and immediately hit John on the leg. The little boy frowned, wondering if he should be hurt or offended. Then he smiled wildly and laughed, thinki
ng it was a new wonderful game. Amy hit him again, obviously upset at being laughed at. This made John laugh even harder. That delicious baby laugh that could melt a mother’s heart.
“No,” Rebecca said as she watched the two children. “He disappeared into those mountains and no one has heard anything for months.
Jenny shrugged. “We are going to have to find him a wife. It’s wrong for a man to go through life all alone. It just doesn’t sit well.”
Rebecca laughed. “Dusty said the same thing last week. Only he said it more like he thought as if Hank was getting away with something and it was unfair.”
Jenny smiled as she showed Amy how to shake the rattle instead of hitting other children with it. “I worry sometimes If Jack misses it. The freedom, the lack of responsibility.”
Rebecca nodded. “Sometimes, I’ll catch Dusty looking off into the distance. And I just know he’s wondering what is on the other side of that hill. I’m positive that he feels the pull for adventure and wanderlust. But then he will look at Little John or even me with a tenderness that melts me inside.”
Jenny nodded in agreement. “I guess it comes with the package. You can’t marry a hero without getting the rough man part.”
“That’s the best part, I think,” Rebecca said with a blushing smile. “A man who’s a little wild at heart, but steady enough to stick through the hard times.”
“True,” Jenny said with a secret smile. “We want it all. A man who can sweep us off our feet. Wild and beastly enough to push away all the terrors of the world. Yet kind and sweet enough to hold our babies and love us like we are the most important thing in the world.”
Rebecca nodded as she looked out the window to see her husband walking across the yard. So tall and strong. His wide shoulders looking like they could take the weight of the world. Not for the first time, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that such a man had been brought into her world.
It was impossible to imagine her life without him and their child.
Smiling to herself she sighed contentedly. She loved her husband and he loved her. Really, a woman shouldn’t ever ask for more. If she had that. She had everything.
High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2) Page 17
