by Marin Thomas
Josie had nothing against small towns but there was more to life than partying, rodeoing and ranching. She worried her son had inherited Dusty’s rodeo genes. Already, Matt was begging his grandpa to teach him to ride a horse and throw a rope. Rodeo was a dangerous sport and few cowboys made money at it—even fewer were happily married. Look at Dusty—he’d mentioned he was still single when she’d phoned him to arrange their meeting.
You’re still single, city girl.
Her situation was different. She had Matt. Josie didn’t have time to date or hang out in bars picking up men. Unlike Dusty, these past four years she’d carried the weight of a huge responsibility—Matt. The word responsibility reminded her of Dexter. As long as she’d known him he’d juggled the demands of family, work and school without breaking.
The sound of the saloon door banging against the wall startled her. In walked Dusty. He grinned—the gesture wide, playful and a tad cocky—the same smile she’d fallen prey to in high school. Nerves tied in knots, she stood and braced herself.
He stopped at her side and opened his arms. She squeezed his rib cage. She was anxious—fearful of the price she’d have to pay for keeping Matt a secret. Dusty kissed the top of her head. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said.
Relieved when none of the old feelings she’d once harbored for the cowboy resurfaced, Josie wiggled loose. Because he was Matt’s father, he’d always hold a tender place in her heart, but she was more certain than ever she didn’t love Dusty.
“You look great.” He flicked her hair. “Lost about six inches since I last saw you in California.” He nodded to the empty glass on the table. “What are you drinking?”
“Diet Coke.”
He frowned. “No rum?”
She shook her head. “But get yourself a beer.” You’ll need one. Or two. Maybe three.
“Did your friend make her flight this afternoon?” Dusty asked when he returned with their drinks.
“Yes.” Josie had mentioned that she had to drive Belinda to the Yellowstone Regional Airport in Cody to catch the first leg of her flight to California.
Silence stretched between them.
When had talking to Dusty become difficult? He’d always been a conversation hog—filling up dead silences with “Hey, guess what?” and “I did this.” Or “I’m rodeoing here.” In high school their chats had focused on him and rodeo. Josie hadn’t minded. Back then Dusty had been her world.
“Before I forget, Dex says hello.”
That Dexter hadn’t told Dusty about running into her and Matt in Lander didn’t surprise Josie. Dexter was a stand-by-his-word kind of guy—he’d said he’d allow her a chance to tell Dusty first and he’d meant it.
“How’s your dad?” Dusty asked.
“Grumpy. The doctor banned him from working around the ranch for a few weeks.”
“Chores are always more fun when someone tells you not to do them.”
Josie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. When they’d dated, Dusty had always found ways to avoid work in order to hang with her or his friends. “I was glad to hear Walker returned safely from Iraq. Mom said he’s married now.”
“Her name’s Paula. She’s got a two-year-old son, Clay. Mom and Dad are thrilled they finally have a grandchild.”
Wait until J.W. and Anne Cody found out they had a biological grandchild. That was bound to be important to Dusty’s parents.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Josie counted on Dusty’s good-natured optimism to kick in after she dropped the proverbial bomb. “Bad news?”
“That depends on how you feel about being a father.” She held her breath until her lungs pinched.
Dusty frowned and stared at her—a quizzical expression on his face. Seconds ticked by, then his eyebrows inched upward until they disappeared beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. His lips moved but no sound escaped his mouth.
Stomach churning, she said, “His name’s Matthew. I named him after my mother’s father. He’s four and a half years old.”
“When I stayed with you in L.A.?” Dusty asked in a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”
He squeezed the beer bottle until his knuckles turned white. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why have you waited four and a half years to tell me I have a son?” His sharp tone was so un-Dusty-like that she jumped inside her skin.
If she told him she feared his family would use their power, influence and money to try and take Matt away from her, Dusty would believe she was crazy. Josie’s father knew all too well that when J.W. set his mind to something, nothing and no one got in his way. “I believed I was doing what was best for everyone involved.”
“How is keeping Matt a secret from me in my best interest?”
“I don’t love you, Dusty. And I know you don’t love me.” That he didn’t protest confirmed her assumption about his feelings for her.
“Since when does a man loving a woman have anything to do with a father’s rights?”
“I live in California. You live in Wyoming.”
“And?”
“I knew your parents would coerce you into marrying me.”
“No one forces me to do anything.” Dusty dropped his gaze. “Marrying me would have made you miserable?”
“Marrying would have made both of us miserable.” She smiled, because if she didn’t, she’d cry. “You’re a fun-loving guy, Dusty. You mean well. You want to do the right thing. But when it comes down to being a father, you’re not ready and I had to protect Matt.”
“Protect him from what?”
“From getting hurt.” She rushed to explain. “Matt needs more from a father than a few hours of his time when he’s passing through town on his way to the next rodeo.” She paused, giving Dusty a chance to refute her statement. He didn’t.
“Whether I’m ready to be a dad or not has little to do with my right to know I had a son out there in the world.”
Her eyes burned. “I’m sorry.”
“Is he here in Markton with you?” Dusty glanced toward the saloon doors. She wouldn’t blame him if he ran. Her news had changed his life forever.
“Matt’s at the ranch with my parents.”
Dusty guzzled the remainder of his beer, then thunked the bottle against the table. “If you hadn’t returned to Markton because of your father’s heart attack, would you have told me?” he asked, his voice quiet but controlled, with a trace of cold condemnation.
“Actually, I had made up my mind to contact you before my father’s heart attack.”
“Why?”
“Matt ran away looking for you.”
“What do expect from me?” At the steely glint in Dusty’s blue eyes, Josie’s bravado wavered.
She sympathized that he’d been caught off guard by the news he’d fathered a child, but it saddened her that so far he hadn’t shown any curiosity about Matt. “I’m not asking anything of you. Matt and I are happy and content in California. As soon as my father’s back on his feet, we’ll return home.”
Dusty’s flat stare gave no indication if he was relieved or distressed by Josie’s proclamation.
“What have you told Matt about me?”
“That you travel a lot and can’t be with us.” She winced at how pathetic the explanation sounded.
“You got the traveling part right.” Dusty scooted his chair back.
“Where are you going?”
“Canada.”
He was leaving the country? Okay, so she’d blindsided Dusty with the news he was a father, and yes, she imagined he needed time and space to absorb the shock, but Josie was angry and hurt on Matt’s behalf that Dusty didn’t intend to meet his son before he skipped town.
“I’d already arranged to take a few horses I trained up to Alberta to be used in a film,” Dusty said.
Stunned that he appeared determined not to allow Matt or anyone to interfere with his plans, she mumbled, “I didn’t know you trained horses for movies.” He’d n
ever mentioned the hobby when they’d met up in L.A. four years ago. Instead, he’d claimed he’d been in town on Cottonwood Ranch business.
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said, a hint of the old Dusty shining through. “I’d appreciate you waiting to tell my folks about Matt until I return.”
Selfishly she preferred to inform the relatives as soon as possible, deal with the fallout and then move on. But Dusty deserved a say in when and how the news about Matt became public. “Dexter already knows. We bumped into each other at the rodeo in Lander.”
Dusty’s blue eyes flashed. “Then tell my brother to keep his mouth shut, would you?”
For Matt’s sake she had to give it one more try. “Don’t you want to meet your son before you leave?”
Dusty pretended great interest in the tips of his boots, and Josie’s heart dropped to her stomach. As she suspected—Dusty wasn’t ready to make Matt a priority in his life.
“I’ll speak to him when I get back,” he said.
“And when will that be?”
“I don’t know, Josie.” His clipped tone warned her to back off.
“Fine. I won’t say a word to Matt, my parents or anyone else until you’re ready.”
“I’ll be in touch.” With purposeful strides Dusty left the bar.
Josie pulled in a shaky breath. She prayed Dusty would come to terms with being a father soon, because she wouldn’t breathe easy until she and Matt returned to California.
Chapter Three
“Honey, where’s your brother?” Anne Cody asked when Dexter answered the phone Monday morning.
“Which brother?” He poured himself a second helping of coffee. He’d downed his first cup at 5:00 a.m. when he’d helped Paco feed the horses.
“The brother who’s always missing,” his mother snapped. “I tried Dusty’s cell but his mailbox is full. That boy never checks his messages.”
“Hang on one second.” Dexter moved the phone away from his mouth and hollered down the hallway off the kitchen. “Hey, Elly! You know where Dusty is?”
“Sure don’t!”
“Did you hear that, Mom?”
“Yes. What about Jesse?”
“He’s meeting Nicki for breakfast in town, then he’s heading out to her dad’s ranch to take a look at a new bucking bull.” Nicki Sable’s father owned and operated the Sable Livestock Company, which provided stock for rodeos across the West.
“Did you try the phone in Dusty’s apartment?” His twin lived above the horse barn, where he had more privacy to entertain the ladies. Dexter, Elly and Jesse shared the old homestead while their parents lived in the new showcase estate they’d built three miles away—as the crow flies. Walker, Paula and Clay lived in the small log cabin Grandfather Cody had built in the 40s up on Carter Mountain.
Dexter glanced out the kitchen window and scanned the ranch vehicles parked helter-skelter around the driveway. “Dusty’s truck’s not here.” After learning he was a father, his twin had probably tied one on last night and was sleeping it off somewhere. Sympathy pricked Dexter’s side. He’d be damned upset, too, if he’d been informed he was a father—four years after the fact.
Obviously his brother hadn’t told anyone in the family about his big news, otherwise their mother would be pummeling Dexter with questions about Josie and Matt. “Want me to give Dusty a message if he shows his face around here anytime soon?”
“Tell him one of his rodeo twits keeps phoning the main house looking for him.”
Figures. Dusty never gave out his cell number to the buckle bunnies who dogged him on the circuit. “Got it.”
Before he disconnected, his mother asked, “What are your plans today?”
“Bill Chester’s coming out this afternoon to take a look at Digger’s front leg.” Dr. Bill had taken care of the Cottonwood Ranch animals for years.
“I hope it’s nothing serious.” She cleared her throat. “I suppose you don’t intend to tell me about the mustang you sneaked onto the ranch.”
Crap. Nothing ever slipped past his mother.
“You’d better keep that rogue horse away from the breeding barn and Mr. Lucky Son.” Anne Cody had worked tirelessly through the years to develop a first-rate quarter horse breeding and training facility on the Cottonwood Ranch. The famous stallion, Mr. Lucky Son, served as the foundation bloodline for his mother’s breeding program and had been a gift from Dexter’s father for her fifty-fifth birthday.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let the mustang mess up your horses’ pedigrees.”
“See that you don’t, young man. Love you.” Click.
Love you, too, Mom.
“What did Mom want with Dusty?” Elly waltzed into the kitchen, carrying her treasured camera. His younger sister by two years was a gifted photographer and several of her ranch photos were on display in an art gallery near Cody.
“Some buckle bunny keeps calling the house.”
“I don’t know why Mom won’t give out Dusty’s cell number.” Elly tugged on her cowboy boots, her blond ponytail falling forward over her shoulder.
“Because Mom always protects Dusty. He’s her favorite.” Dexter and Elly exchanged knowing grins.
“Maybe, but I’m the favorite Cody cowgirl.” Elly helped herself to a cup of coffee. “Dusty loaded his horses in a trailer and drove off around 3:00 a.m. this morning.”
“Did he take Track with him?” Dusty and that Border collie were inseparable. “Yep.”
“Why didn’t you say as much when Mom asked about Dusty?”
“Because Dusty made me promise not to tell anyone.” She blew across the top of her mug.
Dexter quirked an eyebrow. “Then why are you telling me?”
“I’m terrible at keeping secrets.”
“What were you doing awake that early in the morning?”
“Working on my blog for the ranch Web site.” Elly frowned. “Dusty seemed troubled.”
His twin had good reason to be upset. Still, how could Dusty just up and leave for God knows where and ignore the fact that he now had a son? “Did he say when he’d return or where he was headed?”
“Nope. Dusty’s not in trouble, is he?”
That depended on how one viewed the situation. Because he had no idea how long his brother would be on the run, Dexter figured he’d better pay a visit to the Lazy S Ranch and check in on Josie and his nephew. Find out if she had plans to tell his folks about Matt.
That’s a crock full of bull. You just want to see Josie, period. Dexter ignored the voice in his head and set the half-empty coffee mug in the sink. “Gotta run.”
“Where are you off to?”
“Errands.” No sense advertising his whereabouts when Elly admitted she couldn’t keep a secret. Dexter crossed the ranch yard and stopped at the Equi-Ciser pen—a free run exerciser used to condition horses and drain their energy, enabling the animals to remain focused and calm during training sessions. “Hey, Ben. I’m taking off for a while.”
Big Ben nodded. There was no one Dexter trusted more with the horses than the quiet man in his midfifties. Ben had been with the Cody ranch for over twenty years and had taught Dexter all he knew about training and handling cutting horses.
“I put in a call to the vet about Digger. If I’m not back by the time Dr. Bill shows up, phone me on my cell.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Long ago he’d insisted that Ben call him by his first name, but the ranch hand refused. He knew his place in the chain of command.
Instead of taking the main ranch road to the highway, Dexter drove along a service corridor that cut through ranch land containing the Cody gas wells. The shortcut shaved ten miles off the trip. Twenty minutes later he pulled into the yard at the Charles ranch. Hank’s pickup was the lone vehicle in front of the house.
Where were the hands? Other than the four horses penned in the corral next to the barn, the place appeared deserted. He was halfway to the house when he heard his name. Josie waved from inside the barn.
/> Switching directions, he veered toward her. “Morning.” He tipped his hat out of habit and to keep his fingers occupied so they wouldn’t be tempted to brush at the reddish-gold strands of hair plastered to Josie’s sweaty face.
Her eyes flicked between him and the main house. “What are you doing here?” The question was accompanied by a rush of air as if she couldn’t catch her breath. “You okay?”
“Shoveling horse patties is a bit more strenuous than my yoga class.” Her crooked smile zapped his body like a live wire.
“You shouldn’t be mucking stalls. Aren’t there any cowboys working the Lazy S?”
The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “Not a one.”
What the heck? “Why not?”
She moved farther into the barn and he followed her. Not even the dimly lit interior concealed the structure’s deteriorating state. Dexter noted a million little things that needed repair or replacing. Hank Charles didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d let his property fall into disrepair.
Josie pushed a wheelbarrow with a flat tire down the barn aisle.
“Let me.” He nudged her aside and parked the barrow next to a stall. Then he removed the pitchfork from her hand. While he mucked, Josie spread fresh hay across the floor of the stall she’d already cleaned.
After a few minutes, she broke the silence. “Turns out my father’s health is worse than I’d been led to believe the past few years, and he’s racked up a pile of medical bills.”
“What kind of health problems?”
“Dad has an irregular heartbeat on top of clogged arteries. Along with the stents he had put in, he’s using a pacemaker and none of those things prevented his heart attack.”
This was the first Dexter had heard of Hank Charles’s worsening health.
“Dad’s prideful. He wouldn’t want anyone to know he’s struggling to make ends meet.”
