by Marin Thomas
Dexter wondered if his father knew their neighbor had hit upon hard times.
Josie rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Anyway, the reason Dad suffered a heart attack was because he’d worked himself into the ground after letting the ranch hands go.”
Cursing under his breath, Dexter flung a horse turd into the wheelbarrow. No way in hell would he stand idle while Josie exhausted herself with chores, caring for a son and an ailing father. “I’ll send over a few Cottonwood hands to help.” Pride be damned. Neighbors stuck together in times of need.
“Thanks for the offer, but don’t bother. Dad’s sold off most of the herd. All that’s left are the horses and fifty head of cattle grazing in the south pasture.”
Josie didn’t need his help, so why did Dexter feel the urge to butt in where he wasn’t wanted? “The money my brother owes in back child support would more than pay the salary of a few cowboys.”
“Oh, no,” she protested. Sweat droplets ran down her face, leaving muddy tracks in their wake. Her ponytail hung askew and her damp T-shirt clung to her breasts.
All Dexter could think about at that moment was how sexy she looked. “What’s wrong with neighbors lending a helping hand?” He forced the question from his dry mouth.
“Nothing, except—” Her eyes widened, then she turned her back, pitching more hay into the stall.
“Except what?” he asked.
“Never mind.”
He would not be deterred. “Never mind what, Josie?”
“Money is the last thing Dad would ever accept from a Cody.”
“It’s no secret our fathers don’t like each other, but they’ve been neighbors for over thirty-five years. That counts for something.”
“You’d assume so, but Dad’s got good reason to hold on to his grudge.” The stubborn tilt of her chin dared him to bully her into confessing more.
“Then your father will just have to control his animosity for a few weeks while I help out. Besides, he’s in no shape to throw me off his property.” Josie let the subject drop and they worked in silence.
Holding his tongue wasn’t easy for Dexter. He fought the urge to inquire about her talk with Dusty at the Spotted Horse Saloon. Even though it was none of his business Dexter wanted to know every frickin’ detail—like when she and Dusty were going to marry and become a real family. Hell. She has a right to know the father of her son split. Dexter set the pitchfork aside. “Dusty’s gone.”
She remained silent, pouring grain into the feed bag attached to the side of the stall.
“Elly said he loaded his horses into a trailer and drove off at three in the morning.” Dexter watched Josie’s body language, waiting for a sign that his twin’s disappearance mattered to her, but she kept right on working.
Finally Josie spoke. “Dusty’s on his way to Canada.”
At least his brother had had the courtesy to tell Josie his destination.
“He’s delivering the horses he trained for a film that’s being shot in Alberta,” she said.
Training horses for the movies—no wonder his brother hadn’t been around much to help Dexter with the ranch horses. “Did he say when he’d return?”
“No.”
Dexter jabbed the pitchfork into the soiled hay, wishing the prongs were piercing his brother’s backside. “Are you okay with Dusty skipping town?”
“Sure.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
A heavy sigh drifted over her shoulder. She wiped her hands against her jeans, then crossed her arms. “What’s bugging you?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s bothering me.” He whipped off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “My brother learns that he has a son—you did tell him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Dusty finds out he’s a father and instead of owning up to the responsibility, he splits.” Dexter flung his arms wide. “My brother should be here, helping you with chores. Taking care of his son.” Taking care of you.
Josie grasped his arm, her touch warming his skin. “Stop being so tough on Dusty.”
Tough? Was she kidding? If someone didn’t ride herd over Dusty, he’d never learn to put others before his own interests.
“Everyone can’t be like you.” She softened the criticism with a smile.
“What do you mean, like me?”
“You’re the most responsible, hardworking man I know.”
That didn’t sound like a compliment.
She released his arm. “In fact, I find you very intimidating.”
“Why?”
“Because you always do the right thing. You play the game of life straight up. You never cheated on a test in school. You never lied to the teacher or made up excuses if you didn’t do your homework.”
“Since when is being ethical and truthful a bad thing?”
She laughed, the high-pitched giggle flustering him. “Those are admirable qualities.” Her smile faded. “But by rarely making mistakes, you’ve set the bar too high.”
Not true. He’d made a whopper of a mistake in high school when he hadn’t challenged his brother for Josie’s affections.
“I’m just saying that you’re a tough act for Dusty to follow.”
“That doesn’t excuse him from his responsibilities and—”
“Dusty’s not avoiding responsibility.” She set her hands on her hips, and Dexter hated that she appeared determined to defend his twin.
“Then what do you call running off to Canada?”
“Don’t you have a tiny bit of sympathy for your brother? He just found out he has a four-year-old son. He needs time to absorb the shock and figure out how best to tell your parents. As soon as he returns we plan to break the news to both families.”
Guilt kicked Dexter in the gut. He admitted he might be coming down too hard on Dusty, but damn it, why did his brother have to go and get Josie pregnant? Why couldn’t it have been another woman—a woman Dexter hadn’t had feelings for?
“So your folks don’t know Dusty is Matt’s father?”
“No. From the beginning I’ve told my parents that Matt’s father didn’t want to be involved in our lives.”
Dexter’s chest tightened. He’d kept Josie Charles on a pedestal since high school and for some stupid reason he was disappointed in her.
You’re disappointed because you hold everyone up to your standards. Just like Josie said—you think you’re perfect.
Was it true? Did others feel the same way about him? Was that why Shannon had gotten cold feet at the last minute and left him at the proverbial altar in Vegas—because she’d felt she couldn’t live up to his expectations?
“You’re not ticked off at Dusty for leaving?” he asked. Maybe Josie was being easy on his brother because she felt guilty for keeping Matt all to herself for years.
“To tell you the truth, I thought Dusty took the news well.”
Dexter scoffed.
“Some men—” her eyes narrowed and Dexter got the feeling she was referring to him “—would have been angry, resentful and might have threatened to take my child from me.”
He’d never do anything like that—would he? “Did Dusty meet Matt before he left?”
“No.” Josie pitched clean hay into the next stall as if she were flinging a baseball. Maybe Dusty wasn’t totally off the hook with her after all.
If Dexter had been in his brother’s shoes no one and nothing would have prevented him from meeting his son. “Mom! Mom!”
At the sound of Matt’s voice, Josie walked toward the front of the barn, glad for the interruption. Dexter possessed the ability to both frustrate her and turn her on at the same time—maybe because she found all that responsibility and commitment darned appealing.
“In here, Matt.”
“Grandpa wants to know why—” Matt skidded to a stop in front of Josie. “Who’s that?”
“Hello, Matt.” Dexter moved closer to Josie, the air stirring with a hint of his cologne—musk and sandalwood. She resis
ted the urge to lean close and sniff him.
“I’m Mr. Cody.” Dexter held out his hand. “We met at the rodeo a couple of days ago.”
Matt’s eyes rounded when Dexter’s huge hand swallowed his. “You fell off Stinky.”
Dexter laughed, the sound straight from the bottom of his belly. Josie couldn’t remember hearing him laugh like that—not even when they’d joked during their lunch period in high school. “Are you ready to help your mom with chores?”
“What are chores?”
Dexter shot her a perplexed frown. So what if she wasn’t one of those mothers who created chore charts and gave out sparkly stickers when her child picked up his toys. “Matt—”
“Can I help, Mr.—” Matt glanced at Dexter “—what’s your name?”
“Dexter Cody. You can call me Mr. D, if you want.”
“Can I help Mr. D do chores?”
“Honey, the barn’s dirty and—”
“But I wanna help.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Dexter promised.
Matt’s help would most likely create extra work for Dexter and delay his leaving the Lazy S, but Josie didn’t have the heart to disappoint her son. “You can help Mr. D while I check on Grandpa.” She ruffled her son’s blond hair. “You listen to Mr. D, young man, and do as he says.”
“Okay.”
Josie hurried to the house, hoping her father wouldn’t make a big deal out of Dexter’s appearance. She should have known better.
“You tell that Cody boy to get the hell off my property,” greeted Josie when she walked through the front door. Her father’s recliner sat by the window, allowing a bird’s-eye view of the barn and the truck sporting the Cottonwood Ranch logo.
“That’s not very neighborly, Dad.”
“Exactly what I said.” Josie’s mother waltzed into the room with a glass of water. “Time for your pills.”
“I don’t need any more damned pills.”
Phyllis Charles might be a petite woman and two inches shorter than Josie’s five-foot-seven height but she had the temperament of a pit bull when riled. She set the water glass on the table next to the recliner, then pried her husband’s fist open and slapped two pills on his palm. “Take ’em or I’ll shove ’em down your throat.”
Josie coughed to cover her smile. Her mom acted tough with her father, but Josie knew for a fact that her parents loved each other deeply and her father’s heart attack had shaken her mother’s world.
“Better not mess with Mom, or she’ll burn your supper,” Josie teased.
“Listen to your daughter, Hank.”
Her father grumped but took the pills, then her mother leaned down and kissed his forehead before retreating to the kitchen.
“Since when did you get back together with Dusty?”
“I haven’t gotten back together with Dusty. That’s Dexter out in the barn.” Her father had never been able to tell the twins apart.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Cleaning horse stalls. We ran into one another at the rodeo last week and he asked how you were doing.”
“I bet he did—bunch of vultures them Codys are. Buzzing around my ranch, waiting for me to kick the bucket so they can move in and take it all.”
“Dexter is doing no such thing. He offered to help, nothing more.”
Her father’s face flushed. “I don’t need help.”
That was a lie, but no one discussed the possibility that her father’s health might never recover enough to enable him to resume caring for the ranch. If that was the case, then her parents would have to sell and her father’s worst nightmare would come true—John Walker Cody would end up owning the Lazy S.
Josie hugged her father. “Stop fretting. Things always work out the way they’re intended to.”
She questioned whether her words were meant to reassure her father or herself.
Chapter Four
“Is this good, Mr. D?”
Josie stood in the shadow of the barn door and tuned her ears to the conversation between Dexter and her son.
“Looks like you’ve got the hang of spreading hay, squirt. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
“Nope. We don’t got hay at my house.”
Fighting a smile, Josie watched Dexter push the wheelbarrow to the horse stall at the opposite end of the barn. Matt trailed behind, flinging fresh hay every which way into the clean stalls.
“You don’t have any horses where you live?” Dexter asked.
“No, but we got lots of dogs. My aunt Belinda has a dog and his name’s Chocolate. But he bit me.”
“Were you hurt?”
Matt shook his head. “I gotta time-out ’cause Mom said I wasn’t supposed to take Chocolate’s bone.”
“Moms usually know what they’re talking about.”
Matt sat on a bale and picked at the straw. “Do you got a mom, Mr. D?”
“Sure do. Right now she’s mad at me.”
Her son’s mouth formed an O. “Did you do something bad?”
“Sort of.”
Intrigued, Josie inched closer, then dived behind a sack of grain in the corner.
“I brought a wild mustang to our ranch and my mother’s afraid the stallion might cause a ruckus with the other horses.”
“What’s a wild mustang?”
“A horse that’s never been ridden or handled by a human.”
“Does he got a name?”
“Not yet.” Dexter chuckled. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“Mrs. Patterson says if we ask lots of questions it means we’re gonna be smart when we grow up.”
“Who’s Mrs. Patterson?”
“My teacher. Mr. D?”
“What?”
“Is your mom gonna make you sit in a time-out?”
Josie pictured Dexter sitting on a pint-size stool in the corner of his mother’s kitchen and smiled.
“She just might make me do that, Matt, if the mustang doesn’t behave.”
“Mr. D?”
“You ever run out of air, kid?”
“I don’t know, but, Mr. D? Do you got a dad, too?”
Josie held her breath.
“Yep. I have a father.”
“Oh.”
Josie peeked over the feed bag. Matt scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground. “I got a dad, but Mom says he’s really busy.”
“I bet you’ll see your father real soon.”
Matt shrugged his slim shoulders. “Maybe. But I gotta grandpa.”
“Grandpas are special.”
“Grandpa was gonna teach me how to ride a horse, but Grandma said no ’cause his heart’s all banged up.”
“Hearts are tricky things. Your grandpa might have to take it easy for a long time. But if your mom says it’s okay, I’ll give you a few riding lessons.”
Panic swept through Josie. She couldn’t let Matt take riding lessons at the Cottonwood Ranch lest one of the Codys recognize the resemblance between her son and Dusty. She intended to keep her promise to Dusty that they’d break the news to his folks when he returned from Canada. The alternative wasn’t much better. If Dexter gave Matt riding lessons at the Lazy S, Josie’s father would put up a fuss, which wouldn’t be good for his heart. Drat. She wished Dexter would have discussed riding lessons with her first before Matt got his hopes up.
“I’m gonna tell Mom!” Her son jumped off the hay bale and dashed past Josie.
“You can come out now,” Dexter said.
Figured the cowboy would catch her spying. She stood and brushed the dirt off her jeans. “You shouldn’t make promises to Matt before checking with me.”
Dexter removed his hat and wiped his shirtsleeve against his sweaty brow, the action reminding her that she’d forgotten to bring him a drink from the house.
“I didn’t see any harm in offering a riding lesson since I’ll be around helping with chores.”
“Getting close to Matt right now isn’t a good idea.” She pulled a pair
of wire cutters from her jean pocket and opened a bale. As much as she wished for her son to bond with his uncle, she worried that Matt might become too attached to Dexter and not give Dusty the time of day when he returned from Canada. No one could predict a child’s reasoning or actions.
“I offered to teach him how to ride, not be his father.”
Lord, she hadn’t remembered Dexter being this stubborn in high school. Let him do it, Josie. What harm could come from a few riding lessons?
“I’d have to smooth things over with my father first.”
His blue eyes flashed, drawing Josie’s scrutiny. Their color wasn’t the electric blue of Dusty’s and Matt’s but a paler hue with a greenish ring around the irises. Gazing into his eyes was like drowning in a moss-covered pond.
“I’ll speak with your father,” Dexter said.
“Thanks, but I’d better do the talking.”
“As soon as I dump the soiled hay in the compost pile I’ll see about the cattle.”
Josie wanted to protest, but she hadn’t checked the herd since her return to Markton. She’d been too busy entertaining Belinda and refereeing arguments between her parents. “I’ll go along.”
“Who’ll watch Matt?”
She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time for lunch. Mom should be able to handle him for a little while.” She walked off, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll fetch us some drinks.”
Instead of using the front door Josie walked around to the back of the house and stepped into the kitchen. Her father and Matt sat at the table. Her mother stood at the counter making sandwiches.
“What’s this I hear about Matt taking riding lessons from a Cody?”
“Dad, I haven’t got time to talk now.” She opened the fridge and grabbed four water bottles. “Dexter and I are heading out to check on the cattle.”
“The herd’s fine,” her father protested.
“When’s the last time it rained?” she asked.
“Not long ago.”
Josie glanced at her mother. “Going on twelve days now,” her mom answered. “Yellowstone got a good soaking a while back, but the rain skipped over us.”
Almost two weeks without rain meant the stock tanks would have only a few inches of water left in them at best.
“Be good for Grandpa and Grandma.” Josie kissed Matt’s head.
