Dexter: Honorable Cowboy

by Marin Thomas

  She motioned to his face. “You broke your nose at least once since I last saw you.”

  That Josie detected a difference in his appearance had Dexter wondering what else she’d observed about him in high school. Back then he’d assumed she’d only had eyes for Dusty. “How’s life on the West Coast?”

  “Great.” Her smile drew his gaze to her mouth. The shiny gloss covering her lips set off fantasies of slow, wet, deep kisses. When he made eye contact with her, a sizzling flash of heat sparked between them.

  Before he lost his courage, he asked, “How would you like to go—”

  “Mom! Mom!” A little boy wearing cowboy boots and a food-stained Western shirt skidded to a halt in front of Josie. “Mom.”

  Josie’s a mother?

  “What, honey?” She cupped the back of the child’s head and the expression on her face reflected a mother’s love.

  “Can me and Aunt Belinda ride the Ferris wheel?”

  Dexter noticed a tall, big-boned blonde hurrying toward them. “I can’t keep up with the little stinker,” the woman said, joining the group.

  “Belinda, this is Dexter Cody. I went to school with him and his brother.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Josie’s neighbor. I’m visiting her folks for a few days before I return to California.” She shook Dexter’s hand, then smirked. “That was a nasty fall you took earlier.”

  Leave it to a woman to remind a man of his failings. “I’ve taken worse tumbles.”

  “This is my son, Matthew.” Josie set a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder and turned him toward Dexter. “Matt, this is Mr. Cody. Grandpa’s neighbor.”

  “Hi.” Matt glanced up at his mother. “Can we go on the Ferris wheel now?”

  Dexter clenched his hands into fists as he stared at the child’s face—more specifically the dimple in the boy’s right cheek. As if he’d been peppered with buckshot, every ounce of excitement and anticipation at seeing Josie leaked out, leaving him hollow inside.

  “Belinda, if you wouldn’t mind riding with Matt—” Josie coaxed her son toward her friend “—I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”

  As soon as the pair walked off, Dexter asked, “Does Dusty know?” He couldn’t imagine his brother keeping the first Cody grandchild a secret from the family.

  “Not yet.” Josie avoided eye contact.

  Questions pummeled Dexter until he felt physically ill.

  When?

  How?

  Where?

  The kid couldn’t be more than four or five, which meant…Dusty had hooked up with Josie in the not-too-distant past. Funny how his twin had neglected to mention it.

  A second shock wave pulsed through Dexter as he struggled to come to grips with this sudden turn of events. He couldn’t believe the young girl he’d known in high school would have kept such a secret from her son’s daddy.

  Déjà vu all over again. The moment Dexter was ready to make a move on Josie his brother had once again staked his prior claim.

  “Do you intend to tell Dusty—maybe before the boy’s eighteenth birthday?”

  Josie winced and Dexter gritted his teeth to keep from apologizing. He hadn’t meant to lash out, but he didn’t feel like being cordial.

  “Yes, I’d planned to—”

  “When?” Dexter’s brain insisted it was none of his business when and how Josie Charles spread the news about her and Dusty’s son. But his heart screamed in frustration at the injustice of it all.

  During high school he’d stood on the sidelines waiting for his chance with Josie, figuring his brother would tire of her and move on to another girl. When that hadn’t happened, Dexter had been compelled to avoid Josie.

  Looks like you’ll still have to keep your distance.

  “Dusty has a right to—”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Josie’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

  Tired, sore and raw on the inside, Dexter glared at her. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

  Chapter Two

  Josie eyed Dexter’s backside as he swaggered across the fairgrounds toward the parking lot. She tracked his black Stetson until the throng of fairgoers swallowed him whole.

  Drat. This hadn’t been how she’d planned introducing Matt to the Codys. Dusty deserved to be the first to know he had a son before anyone in his family.

  Dex won’t say a word.

  Dexter… Although she’d dated his twin in high school, she and Dexter had been in several classes together and had gotten along well. They’d engaged in heated debates over the novels they’d read in Mrs. Wilson’s American Literature class and they’d teamed up in Biology to present a report on cell osmosis. Whenever she’d wished to partake in a serious discussion she could count on Dexter’s thoughtful insight and commentary. And then for reasons still unknown to Josie, Dexter suddenly distanced himself from her their senior year. Twice she’d gone out of her way to ask what she’d done to upset him, but he’d brushed off her concern and continued to avoid her. No one, not even Dusty, knew how deeply Dexter’s cold shoulder had hurt her.

  He wasn’t cold toward you a few minutes ago. As a matter of fact, Dexter had been downright friendly, even eyeing her figure when he thought she wasn’t aware.

  Speaking of figures…Dexter had added several pounds of muscle to his frame since his teen years, and his stride conveyed purpose and confidence. She’d always believed Dusty had been the better-looking of the twins, but Dusty had never given her heart palpitations like Dexter’s blue-eyed once-over after his bull ride earlier.

  Don’t even think about it, Josie. Reconnecting with Dexter during her stay in Markton was out of the question. She didn’t trust him not to try to persuade her to make concessions where Matt was concerned—allowances she had no intention of granting. In order to prevent Matt from becoming a tug-of-war object she had to keep her guard up around all the Codys. She sucked in a deep breath to clear her brain of any lingering pheromones from Dexter’s presence and made her way toward the Ferris wheel.

  Josie had no one to blame for her current predicament but herself. She’d agonized over informing Dusty about her pregnancy, putting off the decision until after Matt was born. Then when she’d brought Matt home from the hospital she’d fabricated more reasons not to contact Dusty. Weeks turned into months and months into years and in the end it was Matt who took the decision out of her hands.

  Two months ago her son had walked out of their apartment in the middle of the night in search of his father. For as long as she lived, Josie would never forget waking in the wee hours of the morning with the feeling that something was terribly wrong. When she’d checked on Matt and discovered his bed empty, panic threatened to consume her. She’d raced out the front door shouting Matt’s name, waking her neighbors. She’d found him a few minutes later sitting at the corner bus stop with his backpack and teddy bear.

  Matt needed his father, so Josie had begun making plans to bring her son back to Markton. Her father’s heart attack had fast-forwarded those plans, and whether she was prepared or not, the time had come for Matt to meet Dusty and the rest of his Cody relatives.

  Although she’d had her reasons—reasons she’d believed were legitimate—she was ashamed that her fear had denied Matt a chance to bond with his father. She couldn’t give Matt those four years back, but she was determined to do everything in her power to ensure his relationship with Dusty was a positive one.

  The Codys were one of Wyoming’s most powerful, wealthy and influential families. If she wasn’t careful how she handled the situation with her son, John Walker, the Cody patriarch, would make her life miserable. Josie’s father had had firsthand experience tangling with his neighbor and Josie knew J.W. wouldn’t think twice about using underhanded methods to gain an advantage where his grandson was concerned.

  She arrived at the Ferris wheel as Belinda and Matt reached the front of the line. Josie waved and her son’s sweet smile brought an ache to her throat. No matter that sleeping with Dusty had been
a mistake, she’d always be grateful for the joy and love Matt brought into her life.

  “You ridin’ or what, lady?” asked the man standing next to her. A cigarette with two inches of ash at the tip wobbled between his lips.

  “Sorry.” Josie stepped aside so the man and his daughters could move forward in the line. With each rotation of the Ferris wheel, Josie’s stomach knotted tighter. Deep down she worried the Codys would threaten her relationship with Matt. She had a career and a life in Santa Monica. How in the world would she and Dusty figure out a visitation schedule that worked for everyone?

  Josie didn’t expect or deserve empathy from Dusty’s family, but she’d hoped Dexter might be her one ally in the Cody clan. Judging by his stunned expression upon discovering his twin had fathered her child, she doubted Dexter would stand in her corner. Besides, his loyalty would demand he try to convince her to return to Wyoming and raise Matt in Markton.

  And Markton was the last place Josie wanted to be.

  “HEY, DEX!” AT THREE O’CLOCK on Sunday afternoon Dusty was just showing his face around the barns—after the horses had already been fed and exercised. As usual Dusty’s Border collie, Track, was by his side.

  “What’s the matter with Digger?” Dusty stopped outside the stall where Dexter examined the horse’s front left hoof.

  “Not sure.” Dexter wasn’t in a congenial mood. Ever since he’d run into Josie he’d slept in snatches each night, tormented by dreams of her and Dusty standing before a preacher saying “I do.” Today he’d slipped from the house before dawn for an early-morning ride before Jesse and their younger sister, Elly, had risen for the day.

  “The Missoula Hoedown’s right around the corner. Is he gonna be okay by then?”

  Why the heck did Dusty care? His brother had hardly been around to practice these days. “Digger’ll be fine.” Dexter patted the neck of his nine-year-old quarter horse.

  “What’s up with the stallion in the round pen?” Dusty grinned. “Is Mom breeding mustangs now?”

  “Horse belongs to Bud Masterson from Montana. He rescued the animal from a government holding pen. Said he’d have to put him down if I can’t take the wild out of him.”

  “If anyone can bend a horse to their will, it’s you.”

  “We’ll see.” Dexter closed Digger’s stall door.

  “Heard you fell flat on your face at the fair in Lander.”

  News traveled fast between small towns in Wyoming—nothing better for cowboys to do than rodeo and gossip. “Don’t say a word to Mom.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Speaking of secrets… “Got any plans for the rest of the day? Big Ben could use help training the yearlings.”

  Dusty snapped his fingers. “That’s what I came out here to tell you. Josie Charles is back in town. She phoned a few minutes ago. I’m meeting her at the Spotted Horse for a beer. Want to come?”

  Dexter wouldn’t mind witnessing his brother’s jaw drop when he learned he was a daddy. As soon as the uncharitable thought entered his brain, Dexter regretted it. He and Dusty had had their differences in the past but they were brothers and Dexter figured Josie’s news would shake up his twin—not to mention change Dusty’s life forever. This predicament had been bound to happen sooner or later—Dusty’s wild ways with women had finally lassoed him. The fact that the woman was Josie was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “You go on without me. I’ve got to work with the stallion.” Dexter left the barn, Dusty and Track dogging his heels.

  “I can tell Josie another time if—”

  “No.”

  Dusty grabbed Dexter’s arm and tugged him to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

  He and Dusty were so close they often sensed when something was bothering the other one. “Nothing. Why?”

  “Most of the time you tell me to quit screwing around and pitch in more.”

  “Yeah, well, today I’m in a good mood.”

  “If this is your good mood, I’d hate to be downwind of your bad mood.”

  “Beat it.” Dexter shoved his brother.

  Dusty chuckled. “Make me.”

  Aw, damn it. His twin loved a good scuffle. The problem was Dusty usually beat him, but right now Dexter was irritated enough by Josie’s secret that he feared he’d pummel the crap out of his brother if they wrestled.

  “Tell Josie I said hello.” As Dexter walked off he called over his shoulder, “You planning to practice team roping before the Missoula rodeo?” Pinning Dusty down was like trying to catch a tumbleweed—you couldn’t.

  His brother waved him off as Track raced ahead and jumped into the bed of Dusty’s truck. “Later!” Dusty shut the tailgate, then drove off.

  “Where’s he goin’?” Slim joined Dexter outside the barn.

  “He’s meeting a friend in town.” Dexter headed for the mustang, which had been set free in a pen with ten-foot-high fencing. A mustang’s main instinct was flight and the horses were notorious for trying to escape their enclosure.

  The forty-eight-year-old ranch hand tagged along after Dexter, his right boot dragging against the ground. The retired rodeo clown’s foot had been stomped on by a bull, causing nerve damage. The injury had ended Slim’s career and triggered a ten-year drinking spell. Dexter had felt sorry for the short, skinny man and offered him a job working with the Cottonwood Ranch horses—on the condition Slim gave up the bottle. Four years had passed and the cowboy had yet to fall off the wagon.

  Slim spit a stream of tobacco juice at the ground. “That stallion’s a mean son of a bitch. Damned horse almost bit Big Ben yesterday.”

  Both men stopped at the pen and propped a boot on the lower fence rail. The stallion remained at the opposite end, ignoring his visitors. “J.W. know you brought that mustang here?” Slim asked.

  “Nope.” Dexter had intentionally kept his father in the dark about the new four-legged guest. A few months ago he’d approached the old man about his desire to train rogue horses in addition to managing the ranch’s working horses. His father had nixed the idea, insisting Dexter had enough on his plate. A phone call had interrupted the conversation—rather argument—and nothing had been settled.

  “Guess I’ll mosey along and let you get on with yer whisperin’. Ricky and I are gonna work the lunge line with Brown Sugar and Sweet Pea.”

  Once Slim disappeared inside the barn, Dexter moved closer to the horse and made eye contact.

  “I’m feeling penned in, too, big guy.”

  It wasn’t that Dexter didn’t appreciate his upbringing and the opportunities his parents’ wealth afforded him and his siblings, but like the mustang, there were days when he felt the need for more running room. He loved working with the ranch horses, but his responsibilities along with rodeoing left little time for much else—including personal relationships.

  The last time Dexter had been involved with a woman, the affair had ended in disaster. That was six months ago. He’d met Shannon a year ago at a rodeo when she and her horse had almost run him down during a barrel-racing event. They’d begun seeing each other as often as their rodeo schedules allowed, and it wasn’t long before Dexter knew he was ready to settle down and start a family with Shannon. He’d proposed, but Shannon kept changing the wedding date. He’d suggested Vegas—just the two of them. No family. Shannon had agreed. They were both competing in rodeos the second weekend in January and had planned to hop separate flights to Vegas. Dexter had arrived first and had waited at their hotel, but Shannon had missed her flight. Then she’d missed the next one and the one after that. When she hadn’t arrived by late Sunday afternoon Dexter knew he’d been stood up. He’d flown back to Markton, and the following week Shannon’s engagement ring had arrived in the mail.

  Seeing Josie yesterday and learning that the girl he’d once wanted for himself had had a child with Dusty—a guy who wasn’t ready to settle down and didn’t want to be a father—had cut Dexter to the core.

  And of course there was Walker. His brother had re
cently returned from Iraq, and hadn’t been looking to marry or begin a family. He’d met Paula, a young widow with a two-year-old son. A short time later Walker ended up in Reno tying the knot.

  Damn it. Dexter had never felt more lonely than he did at this moment.

  The stare-down with the mustang continued—neither horse nor man giving ground. The stallion’s fear was palpable.

  “Hungry, hoss?” Dexter said softly.

  Ears perked.

  Slim had left a bucket of feed next to the pen, so Dexter emptied the grain into the bin attached to the rails. The horse’s nostrils flared, but instead of moving forward he backed away.

  “Gonna hold out for a while, big guy?”

  The horse neighed.

  “Might as well see whose stubborn streak is stronger.” Dexter pulled up a stool, sat with his back against the pen and practiced his rope-tying skills. He had all the time in the world to wait.

  And to wonder how Dusty was taking the news he was a father.

  JOSIE SAT INSIDE the Spotted Horse Saloon at a table in the back, away from the bar and sawdust-covered dance floor. Several cowboys had nodded in her direction when she’d entered the honky-tonk, but she hadn’t recognized any of their faces—not a surprise since she’d made a habit of avoiding her hometown. Her mother loved the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, so her parents traveled to the L.A. area twice a year to visit her and Matt.

  The population of Markton had grown by a whopping thirty-six people in the thirteen years Josie had been gone. The sign at the edge of town boasted 997 residents. Add Walker Cody’s new wife and son and the town was one body short of the thousand mark.

  Josie knew from experience that kids raised in rural towns got into trouble out of boredom. She’d been grounded a time or two for sneaking out her bedroom window in the middle of the night and driving off with Dusty to party with their classmates. The local teens congregated along the banks of the Greybull River, which ran through the Cody ranch. Dusty had introduced her to beer at the age of sixteen.

  The memory made Josie smile. When Dexter discovered Dusty had coaxed her to drink, he’d become furious. The twins had almost gotten into a fistfight. Looking back on those days, she realized that Dexter had acted as protector whenever he’d believed Dusty was out of line with her. She wished more than ever that Dexter could protect her and Matt from the rocky road that lay ahead of them.