Dexter: Honorable Cowboy

by Marin Thomas

  DEXTER HEARD THE TRUCK STOP at the other end of the bridge, but he kept his back to the road. He’d called Josie shortly after his fight with Dusty and asked if she’d meet him at the Wallaghany Bridge fifteen miles east of Markton.

  Every teenager within a fifty-mile radius of Markton knew about the walking bridge suspended over the Wallaghany River. The spot was popular with high-school students who used the bridge as a diving board into the river below. Dexter remembered one particular summer afternoon when he’d tagged along with Josie and Dusty. Man-oh-man, had Josie looked hot in her smokin’ red bikini.

  Josie’s boots clunked against the wooden planks. She stopped a few feet away. “You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?”

  He’d given it a thought or two but decided he didn’t care to stink like fish. He faced Josie, bracing himself for her reaction.

  She gasped. “What happened to your face?” She lurched forward, but Dexter stepped out of reach. Her touch would have been too painful. Seeing her pretty face and knowing what he had to say was torture enough.

  Eyes wide with hurt, she lowered her arm to her side.

  “Dusty and I got into a scuffle.”

  A moist film covered her pretty brown eyes, and he yearned to haul Josie into his arms and hug her. He wanted to rub his nose in her hair and smell her sweet-scented shampoo. Feel her body pressed to his.

  He just flat-out wanted her.

  “Your fight had to do with me,” Josie said.

  “Dusty wants to do right by you.” The words damn near choked him.

  “I don’t love Dusty. We’d never be happy.”

  His father’s words echoed through Dexter’s brain…. Would have been a hell of a lot easier on the family if you’d gotten Josie pregnant. You’re the responsible one. You’d do the right thing in a heartbeat and wouldn’t second-guess your decision. “If you give Dusty half a chance you two might be happy. And Matt deserves a mother and a father who live together.”

  “You’re not much of a fighter, are you?”

  Dexter rubbed his battered jaw. “I gave as good as I got.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not a fighter…you’re a quitter.”

  Did Josie have any idea how difficult it was for him to step aside in order to give Matt, her and his brother the chance to be a real family? His throat closed, and the words he wanted to say in his defense went unsaid.

  “I believed the time we spent together the past few weeks meant something to you.” She shook her head. “But I can’t compete against your high moral code. I don’t know that anyone can.”

  When she turned to leave, he found his voice. “Tomorrow, Dusty’s dropping by the Lazy S to meet Matt.”

  “Fine. We’ll be there.”

  Josie crossed the bridge and hopped into her father’s truck. She hit the gas hard and the tires spun before gaining traction and sending the truck lurching down the dirt road.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I have something to tell you,” Josie said when she stepped into her parents’ kitchen. After meeting with Dexter on the Wallaghany Bridge, she’d driven around for an hour until her temper had cooled. One minute she loved Dexter to distraction—the next she wanted to clobber him over the head with an iron skillet. “Maybe you should sit down.”

  Her parents exchanged worried glances. “Bad news?” her mother asked.

  “No.” At least she hoped not. Josie had imagined this moment for years. Now that the time had come to divulge the identity of her son’s father she had mixed feelings—the biggest of which was fear. Fear of how her father would react. Her main reason for keeping Dusty’s identity a secret had been her father’s animosity toward J.W. Josie worried that Matt would become the pawn of a tug-of-war match between the two families.

  “Where’s Matt?” Josie didn’t want her son to overhear the conversation.

  “Outside on the tire swing.” Her father chuckled. “That rascal’s been running wild all day.”

  Josie worried Matt would miss the freedom of his grandfather’s ranch after they returned to California, where Matt would have to attend day care eight hours a day while she worked.

  Her father rapped his knuckles against the table. “What’s on your mind, daughter?”

  “I want you to know who Matt’s father is.”

  “We’ve known all along, dear,” her mother said.

  The breath in Josie’s lungs evaporated. “But—”

  “Two months after you mentioned Dusty passed through L.A. and stayed at your apartment, you turned up pregnant,” her father said. “Wasn’t hard to figure out he was the father.”

  “And when Matt celebrated his first birthday—” her mother spoke “—we noticed the dimple in his right cheek—just like his daddy’s.”

  “Why didn’t you say something then?” Josie asked.

  “I wanted to tell you our suspicions, but…” Her mother stared pointedly at her father.

  “I figured J.W. would make life miserable for you and Matt,” her father admitted.

  “Me, too.” Josie rubbed her brow, pressing her thumbs against the pounding pulse in her temples.

  Her father cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have told you about J.W. swindling me out of those gas wells. Who knows, maybe you and Dusty would have gotten together and—”

  “No, Dad. After Dusty’s visit, I realized that what I felt for him wasn’t love.” She shrugged. “I don’t believe I ever loved Dusty. I was enamored with his popularity and enjoyed sharing the spotlight with him in high school.”

  “I have a confession to make, also,” her mother said. Josie doubted her mother would ever do anything that needed forgiving.

  “I went along with your father’s insistence that we keep our suspicions to ourselves because I was afraid Anne Cody would buy our grandson’s love and lavish him with expensive gifts that your father and I couldn’t afford to give Matt.”

  Josie hugged her mother. “This is my wrongdoing, not yours.”

  “What are you and Dusty planning to do?” her father asked.

  “Dusty proposed.”

  Her mother frowned. “But I thought you two didn’t love—”

  “We don’t. J.W. is insisting we marry.”

  “That no-good wisecracker can’t make my daughter—”

  “Dad, calm down, or you’ll mess up your heart again.” Good grief, another attack might be fatal.

  “What about Dexter? You love him, don’t you?”

  She should have expected her mother would guess her feelings for Dexter. “Yes. But he insists that the right thing for everyone involved is for me and Dusty to marry.”

  “I’ve seen the way Dexter looks at you,” her father said. “He’s a love-struck fool.”

  “Doesn’t make any sense.” Josie’s mother left the table and prepared a pot of coffee. “Why would Dexter want you to marry his brother when he loves you?”

  Throat tight, Josie whispered, “He believes Matt, Dusty and I deserve a chance to be a real family.”

  “Men.” Her mother grumbled an unintelligible word.

  Josie jumped to Dexter’s defense. “He wants what’s best for Matt and me.” Josie both hated and loved Dexter for his decency. “J.W. underestimated me, because I’ll never agree to marry Dusty.”

  Her father grinned. “That’s my girl.”

  “Hank, stop it.” Her mother returned to the table. “Have you told Dexter how you feel about him?”

  A cold chill rushed through Josie. Had she said the words to Dexter? Had she told him she loved him—or just that she didn’t love Dusty? “Um…”

  “Josie,” her mother said, “if you’re not marrying Dusty or Dexter, what are your plans for the future?”

  Matt loved the ranch, and she hated to make him move back to California. But the idea of living in the same town as the man she loved but couldn’t be with was more than she could handle.

  “You know we’d love for you and Matt to stay here,” her mother sa
id when Josie remained silent. “Any chance you could find work in Markton or Cody?”

  “Possibly.” Josie was certain her employer would help her obtain freelance projects for a doctor’s or lawyer’s office, but she didn’t want to get her parents’ hopes up.

  “I vote you and Matt move back home. I like having my grandson around,” her father said.

  In many ways life would be easier if she lived in Markton or nearby. There would be no custody battle over Matt. Her son would have lots of uncles and an aunt to lavish attention on him. Both sets of grandparents would have an opportunity to spend as much time with their grandson as they wished. With her father’s serious heart condition, every day Matt was able to spend with his grandpa Charles was a blessing.

  If nothing else, Josie considered the move for purely selfish reasons. She hoped that if Matt grew up around family he’d forgive her for keeping him from Dusty the first four years of his life.

  Josie glanced at her father. “How do you feel about sharing your grandson with J.W.?”

  “I got a head start at being the favorite grandpa. I’ll just have to work hard to keep it that way.”

  Her mother frowned. “What are you going to do about Dexter?”

  “Nothing.”

  “But—”

  “The Codys have a strong sense of responsibility toward family. Dexter won’t budge on this.” Josie wondered how many days, weeks and months would go by before her heart stopped hoping he’d change his mind about her.

  “What time should we expect Dusty tomorrow?” her mother asked.

  “Around noon. I’ll tell Matt before Dusty arrives.” Her son was a resilient kid, and he’d weather this latest change in his life with the same enthusiasm he showed in everything he did.

  All talked out, she left the table, then paused in the kitchen doorway. “Mom, Dad…thanks for…” Her throat swelled shut.

  “We love you, dear. Whatever happens…whatever you decide about the future, we’re here for you.”

  JOSIE WAS STANDING SENTRY at the front window when she observed the Cottonwood Ranch truck turn onto the gravel road leading to her parents’ house.

  The day of reckoning had arrived.

  She’d broken the news to Matt over breakfast that his father was coming to see him. At first her son had stared as if he’d misunderstood her. Then he’d said, “Is he gonna quit traveling?”

  His question had broken her heart. For so long Matt had bought into the lie that his father traveled and didn’t have time to spend with him.

  “Matt, your dad’s here,” Josie hollered down the hallway. Matt bolted from his bedroom and ran past her out the front door. Her parents stood in the kitchen doorway, their wrinkled faces full of worry and love.

  Josie flashed a smile, hoping to reassure them.

  “We’ll be right here if you need us.” Her father hugged her.

  Taking a deep breath, she joined Matt on the front porch. As the truck drew nearer, Josie saw that Dexter sat behind the wheel. Her heart soared. Had he changed his mind? Had he come along with Dusty to insist she marry him instead of his brother?

  Her hopes were dashed when Dexter parked the truck but remained inside the vehicle as Dusty got out. She couldn’t read his expression behind the tinted windshield, but she guessed he wasn’t smiling.

  Dusty walked toward the porch.

  Matt tugged on her shirtsleeve. “He looks just like Mr. D, Mom.”

  Dusty stopped at the bottom step and removed his hat. Dexter hadn’t lied yesterday—he’d given as good as he’d gotten during the scuffle with his brother.

  “You look like Mr. D,” Matt said.

  “That’s because we’re brothers.”

  Dusty attempted a smile—not an easy task with a split lip.

  Matt descended two steps until he stood eye to eye with Dusty. “What happened to your face?”

  “Mr. D and I were practicing for a rodeo and the cow gave us a bit of trouble,” Dusty lied.

  “Are you really my dad?”

  “Yes, I am, Matt.”

  Josie held her breath.

  “Mom said you couldn’t be my dad ’cause you travel a lot. Where did you travel?”

  “All over the country. I compete in a lot of rodeos.”

  “How come you didn’t want me and Mom to come with you?”

  Josie opened her mouth to field the question, but Dusty beat her to it. “Your mom had to work, and rodeos are dangerous places for little kids.”

  Josie didn’t deserve Dusty’s gracious explanation and swore right then she’d never interfere with Dusty and Matt’s relationship.

  “Oh.” Matt shuffled his boots against the step and continued to glance at Dexter in the truck, as if he needed reassurance from Mr. D.

  “I’m not a little kid anymore.” Matt looked at Josie. “Right, Mom?”

  “You’re not as little but you’re still a kid.”

  “Mr. D. says I can be a cowboy when I grow up.”

  “You’ll make a fine cowboy someday,” Dusty said.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Josie saw the driver’s-side door open and Dexter step out. Her heart ached at the tense lines bracketing his mouth. She wanted to demand he fight for Matt’s affections. Fight for the right to be his father, too. Fight to make her and Matt and him a family. Blasted cowboy. Why did Dexter have to play the hero? For once why couldn’t he take what he wanted and to hell with everyone else?

  “Are you gonna live at my house?” Matt asked.

  Josie intervened. “Honey, we’ll iron out the details later. Right now I think your father would like to get to know you a little better.”

  “Okay. I like soccer and Grandma’s chocolate cake. Mr. D taught me to ride a horse. Right, Mr. D?” Matt shouted in Dexter’s direction.

  “That’s right. Maybe your father can take you riding one of these days.”

  “Wanna see the horse Mr. D lets me ride?” Matt asked Dusty.

  “Sure.” Dusty held out his hand, and Matt didn’t think twice before clasping his father’s fingers and leading the way to the barn.

  Left alone with Dexter, Josie fidgeted. An uncomfortable silence ensued until he spoke. “Is your father around?”

  “He’s inside.”

  “I need to speak with him.”

  That’s it? Dexter wanted to talk to her father but had nothing to say to her? Angry and hurt she retreated inside the house and almost plowed her father over. “Eavesdropping?”

  “Just making sure everyone behaves.”

  “Dexter wants to talk to you.” Josie ignored her mother’s questioning look and fled down the hallway. She slammed the bedroom door behind her, then burst into tears.

  “HANK.” DEXTER GREETED the old man when he stepped onto the porch.

  “Take a load off.” Hank sat in one of two rockers on the porch.

  If Josie’s father had known what Dexter intended to show him, he might not have been so neighborly. Dexter climbed the steps and sat in the other rocker.

  “Whatcha got there?” Hank motioned to the surveys in Dexter’s hand.

  “My brother, Walker, discovered these at our grandfather’s cabin on Carter Mountain.” Dexter cleared his throat. “Looks like more than a few buckles stand between you and my father.”

  “What are you saying, son?”

  “Walker found a copy of the survey you had done on your property before you sold it to my father. He compared it to the survey my father had commissioned. I’m sure you’re well aware the results were contradictory.”

  Hank stared into space as if his mind had wandered back in time.

  “I’m guessing one of the reasons Josie refused to return to Markton after Matt had been born was because she believed my father had swindled you out of a lot of money when he paid you a third of what your land was worth.”

  “I’ve done some things I’m not proud of—one of ’em being I lied to my daughter. I knew Dusty fathered Matt, but I worried that if J.W. knew about Matt he’d take my
grandchild away from my daughter.”

  Dexter’s father would never have done that, but this wasn’t the first time he’d heard of people afraid of the Cody wealth and power. When Hank didn’t elaborate, Dexter said, “I’d like to hear your side of the story. And then I intend to make things right.”

  “Ain’t nothing to make right.” Hank leveled a bleak-eyed stare on Dexter. “When Pennyton and his wife died and left me the Lazy S, their son challenged the will. I hired a lawyer and racked up a hefty stack of bills, but I kept the ranch. The following spring the herd got sick and I lost nearly every head. I was gonna lose the ranch if I didn’t find a way to make some quick cash.” Hank rubbed his knees. “Right after I’d inherited the Lazy S, J.W. had asked if I’d sell off six hundred acres to him. I refused.”

  A run of bad luck was enough to change a man’s mind.

  “I approached your father and asked if he was still interested in buying Lazy S land. He offered to pay to have the survey done, but I didn’t trust him, so I hired my own crew.”

  Not for one minute did Dexter believe his father would resort to bribery, but he asked just the same. “Do you believe my father paid off the survey team you hired to falsify their findings?”

  A loud sigh escaped Hank, and he aged ten years before Dexter’s eyes. “No one’s fault but my own for selling that land below market value. After J.W. and I signed the sales papers I got a letter in the mail from Pennyton’s son. He said I’d gotten what I deserved.” Hank’s arthritic fingers clenched his kneecaps.

  “I had a bad feeling about the survey so I drove over to the courthouse. That’s when I found out J.W. had had one done, too, and it showed the gas deposits beneath the Lazy S. I put two and two together and figured out that bastard Frederick Pennyton had paid the survey company I hired to skewer the results.”

  “Didn’t you take your suspicions to the sheriff and let him investigate?”

  “I did. Sheriff Percy said there wasn’t enough proof to point the finger at Frederick.”

  Dexter was relieved his father hadn’t been involved in unethical business practices, but that didn’t excuse him from taking advantage of his neighbor’s misfortune. “Why didn’t you confront my father and explain what happened?”