“J.W.!” his mother gasped.
“You don’t have to throw me out,” Dusty said. “I’ll leave.”
This wasn’t how he’d wanted the discussion with his mother to go, though in hindsight, it really couldn’t have ended any other way. Not once his father became involved.
At least he had his answer.
Neither of his parents had admitted as much but it was clear to Dusty by their reactions that the rumors circulating about his father’s affair with Abigail Hansen were true.
A jolt, swift and painful, shot through him.
Barbara gave no indication of anything being amiss as Dusty all but tore through the kitchen on his way back to the mudroom. Track, overjoyed to see his master, followed Dusty outside, his tail wagging.
Dusty debated his next move. His instinct was to locate Dex and recount what had happened. If his twin was busy, he’d find Walker. Not Jesse or Elly. His oldest brother adamantly claimed not to believe the rumors, though Dusty had his doubts. He’d often speculated if the possibility that Mark might be their brother was at the root of Jesse’s rivalry with him. And Elly…well, he wasn’t entirely sure how much she knew and wasn’t ready to involve her.
When Dex didn’t answer his cell phone, Dusty got in his truck and drove to Cowboy College. He was almost as familiar with the layout there as the Cody ranch and chose a secluded place behind the equipment barn. Thirty minutes. That was all he needed to get his head on straight. Grabbing one of the lariats he always kept in the back of his truck and a practice dummy, he began roping. One throw. Then another. The constant repetitive motion slowly worked its magic, eventually putting his thoughts in order. Until a brand-new one crept into his mind.
Did Mark know Tomas Hansen wasn’t his father?
Dusty had been so busy thinking only of himself and his own family, he’d failed to consider the other person directly involved.
MARYANNE POWERED OFF the digital camera. She actually preferred a plain old 35-millimeter but those weren’t so common anymore. And besides, the digital was all Adele Donnelly had available.
“I really appreciate the opportunity,” Maryanne informed the manager of Cowboy College while slipping the camera into its zippered pouch. “You have no idea how bored I’ve been this last week.” Too late, she realized her error and gushed, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
Adele dismissed Maryanne’s concerns with a good-natured laugh. “Don’t worry. I know how tedious it can be around here for someone who doesn’t eat, sleep and breathe the cowboy lifestyle.”
“Really, it’s not that bad.”
“Nice try.” Adele laughed again, proving what a good sport she was.
Her casually delivered request over breakfast that Maryanne help with updating Cowboy College’s Web site and sales brochure promised to provide a welcome diversion. Maryanne’s days had begun to drag. The first couple hours she spent telecommuting with her office flew by but after that, there wasn’t much else for her to do except hang around the arena watching her dad and waiting for him to fall and break his neck.
Dinner with Dusty had also been a welcome diversion—or was that an unwelcome distraction?
As if reading her mind, Adele said, “I heard you had a little excitement last night.”
“Last night?”
“Your dinner with Dusty.”
“You know about that?”
“Markton’s a very small town. News travels fast.”
“We had a business dinner.”
“Ah.” Adele’s eyes twinkled. “I’m not your first local client then.”
Was she also personally acquainted with Dusty like that waitress from The Spotted Horse Saloon? Possibly. Maryanne guessed the manager of Cowboy College to be around her own age of twenty-eight, and she was certainly attractive enough to catch the attention of any man.
It was on the tip of Maryanne’s tongue to explain that Dusty was mentoring her father but she stopped herself in the nick of time. Adele might think the arrangement was taking away from the classes offered at Cowboy College. Guilt ate at Maryanne, and she vowed to made amends.
“No, I guess you’re not my first.” She provided no further explanation and, to her relief, none was asked for.
“It’s certainly none of my business, and please don’t take this wrong…” Adele hesitated.
“What?”
“Dusty’s a great guy but a bit wild, if you catch my drift.”
“Meaning he’s a player, and I should be careful?”
“Not a player as much as not serious.”
“He is about rodeoing.” And his writing, Maryanne added silently.
“That’s the one exception.”
“No worries. I’m leaving at the end of the month.” She repeated what she’d been telling herself since meeting Dusty.
Adele motioned to the camera in Maryanne’s hand. “I insist on paying you. What are your rates?”
“Don’t worry about that just yet. Let me take some photos of the place first and draft my ideas. If you like what I’ve done, then we can discuss the cost.” It would be minimal, Maryanne had already decided.
“Fair enough.”
The two women left the main building together through the front entrance and ventured out onto the sprawling porch. On the expansive grounds in front of them, wranglers, guests and horses milled about. Like everyone and everything Maryanne had thus far encountered in Markton, their pace was relaxed and unhurried. She was reminded again of the difference between country life and the hustle and bustle of L.A.
“Come on.” Adele led Maryanne down the steps. “Let me introduce you to Jet.”
“Jet?”
“Your mode of transportation.”
Maryanne’s stomach twisted into a knot. “I can’t ride.” Nor was she ready to learn. Yet.
“Jet’s plenty easy to handle. I promise.” Adele linked arms with Maryanne to hurry her along. “Here we are,” she announced when they rounded the corner of the building.
A black golf cart with a white vinyl top and a single bench seat large enough for two people was parked in the shade.
Maryanne bit her bottom lip. “Can’t say I’ve ever driven one of these, either.”
“Come on, it’s easy. I’ll show you.”
Five minutes later, Maryanne was handling Jet like a pro and having a blast. Not exactly Dusty’s Jaguar but it would get her around the ranch just fine.
“How fast does it go?” she asked Adele, peering over her shoulder and parallel parking one-handed.
“Maybe thirty-five on a full battery.”
“Electric powered?”
“Can’t you tell?” Adele cupped a hand to her ear to indicate how quiet the golf cart ran. “That way, you won’t spook the horses.”
“Cool.” Her own little green-mobile. Maryanne was liking Jet more and more.
“Let’s park over there.”
Adele and Maryanne discussed a few more details regarding shots of the ranch and guests before parting. Maryanne waved to everyone she passed as she hummed down the drive. There was a modest hill just beyond the main gate, and she thought she might be able to get some nice shots of the entire facility. While earning her degree at UCLA she’d taken several photography classes and, if she said so herself, wasn’t half-bad.
No sooner had she pulled to a stop on the hilltop and begun inspecting the view than her cell phone rang.
“Figures I’d get good reception up here.” Recognizing her boss’s number, she answered with a bright, “Hello, Jarred.”
“I’ve been calling for hours. Where have you been?”
“Out of range.” Unlike usual, she didn’t let his nervous anxiety spread to her like a contagious virus. Could it be some of Markton’s easygoing pace was wearing off on her? “What’s wrong?”
“You’ve got to fly home. Right away.”
“Um…okay.” Part of the agreement she’d made with Jarred when he gave her the month’s leave of absence was that she retu
rn for a few days when needed. “Is there a problem?”
“Hancock has moved the presentation up to the twenty-fourth.”
“Wow. So soon?”
“We need you here to help finalize the project and then again to present it. Check your e-mail and call immediately if the e-ticket’s not there. Your flight leaves at 6 p.m.”
No staying up late and having dinner with handsome cowboys tonight. Not that Maryanne had any plans, with handsome cowboys or otherwise.
A small part of her felt the disappointment keenly. The larger, more sensible part of her managed to maintain a level head.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Jarred.”
“I only wish you would stay longer.” His heavy sigh of relief sounded in her ear. “It’s been total chaos here without you.”
“Buck up, pal. Only three more weeks, and then I’ll be home for good.”
“Three long weeks.”
They said their goodbyes, and Maryanne disconnected. The prospect of returning home for even two days lifted her spirits, though she’d spend the entire time worrying about her father and—this came as a surprise—missing the people she’d befriended since coming to Wyoming. Like Adele and, okay, it was true, Dusty.
Removing the camera from its pouch, she began taking pictures. As she had nothing to pack for her short trip home, there was no reason she couldn’t continue with her plans. When she finished, she drove to the creek where she shot a series of guests fishing. At the horse barn, a baby burro stole her heart. Lastly, she headed for the practice arena but lost her bearings and wound up behind one of the barns.
She was startled to come upon Dusty’s truck. At least, it looked like his truck. Cutting Jet’s engine, she got out and traveled no more than a few steps when she spotted him. He had his back to her and was throwing a rope at a fake plastic cow head attached to a bale of hay. No sooner did he rope the cow head than he retrieved the lasso and threw it again.
He was beautiful to watch, his movements combining the grace and fluidity of a dancer with the strength and power of an athlete. Maryanne stared, mesmerized. Finally, she roused herself and extracted her camera. She’d never forgive herself for missing such a wonderful photo op.
She inched closer with each shot, too caught up with what she saw through the viewfinder to care if he noticed her or not. Not that she had anything to worry about. He was completely focused on his task and oblivious to the rest of the world. Maryanne circled to the right. When she finally saw his face, her breath caught. His expression wasn’t that of someone enjoying himself.
Odd. Dusty was usually so laid-back and affable.
Intrigued by this different side of him, she snapped more pictures. He’d make a perfect cover for Cowboy College’s new brochure.
He finally noticed her and for the first time since she’d arrived, his rope missed the plastic cow head.
“Sorry,” she called. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
He said nothing, simply collected his rope, wound it into a large coil and prepared for another toss.
“Adele recruited me to take some pictures of the ranch for her.” When he still didn’t answer, Maryanne fumed. Something might be eating at him but that didn’t give him any reason to be rude. “I got a few nice ones of you. Of course, she’ll need you to sign a release before she can use them.” The silence stretched indefinitely.
She’d about given up when he raised the rope over his head and began twirling it.
Fine. She got the hint. He wasn’t in the mood to talk.
She spun on her heel, intent on returning to the golf cart. All at once the rope came out of nowhere and dropped down over her head and shoulders.
“What the—”
He yanked, and the rope tightened. She was forced to walk toward him or pitch forward. He also walked toward her, reeling her in as he did.
“Dusty! What are you doing?”
Her question was answered when he pulled her up against him and brought his mouth down on hers.
Chapter Six
Dusty’s kiss was hot and hungry and bordering on desperate. Even in her semidazed state, Maryanne realized the emotion driving him wasn’t lust but something else. Something related to the fierce expression he’d worn when she’d taken his picture. That knowledge didn’t stop her weak-kneed response as his tongue parted her lips and delved between them.
Oh, no, not hardly.
Uttering a soft moan, she wriggled against the rope restricting her. He understood her frustration and broke off their kiss—only for as long as it took him to loosen the knot with one quick jerk and lift the rope over her head. Then, he was cupping her cheeks with his hands, murmuring her name and seeking her mouth so they could pick up where they’d left off.
Maryanne’s arms, free to do what they wanted, circled his waist and brought their bodies that much closer. Enough of her reasoning remained for her to realize that kissing him wasn’t a good idea. She also recognized on a deeper level that he needed this. The connection with her. The intimacy. The release. And she gave it to him without hesitation.
She sensed the change in him a scant second before his mouth relaxed, and his kisses went from demanding to gentle. Until then, she’d been able to maintain a certain amount of control. This tenderness, this vulnerability, was her undoing, and she sank into his embrace, fully aware she would stay right where she was forever if that was what he wanted.
Only he didn’t.
Darn it.
Muttering a sound—of regret?—he released her. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay. As you could obviously tell, I didn’t exactly mind.” She considered asking what had upset him but refrained. It was none of her business even if the effects had spilled over to her.
“Can I give you a ride back?” he said after a moment.
So, things were going to be a little stilted between them. She should have expected as much, given the spontaneity of their kiss and their strictly business relationship up until then.
“No, thanks. Adele let me use Jet.”
“Jet?”
“Her golf cart. It’s parked by your truck.”
Silence followed.
Since he appeared to be at a loss for words, she started to leave. “I’ll bring the release this weekend. For the photos I took of you,” she said when his eyebrows came together in a deep V.
“Sure. Whatever Adele wants. She’s a good neighbor.”
“I really think they turned out well. Which reminds me, have you come up with a tagline?”
“Not yet,” he said, a muscle working in his jaw.
Well, well. Whatever was bothering him clearly had something to do with his writing. Or, she realized, with whatever was keeping him from his writing.
Work? His family? His son? No, not Matt. Dusty adored the boy. But his issues might be with his brother, the one who’d married his son’s mother.
“Take your time. I just thought if you had a tagline, I could try it out on my mother’s friends. My boss called. There’s a problem with the new account we’re trying to land, and I’m flying back to L.A. for a couple of days.”
The change in subject must have agreed with him for he perked up. “When do you leave?”
“My flight’s at six tonight. But you can call me on my cell if you think of something while I’m gone.”
He removed his phone from the case clipped to his belt. “What’s your number?”
“Here.” She held out her hand. When he placed his phone in it, she programmed her number into his list of contacts. “Maybe later this week we can have another mentoring session.” She avoided making any reference to their kiss. “Dad mentioned you’re giving him a lesson tomorrow.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him for you while you’re gone.”
“I’d appreciate it. And be sure to call me if anything happens, no matter how insignificant. Lord knows he won’t.” Maryanne reminded herself to secure a similar promise from Adele.
“Loo
k, I’m sorry about…” He didn’t finish.
“Don’t worry. These things happen.” Just not to her. Men didn’t haul off and kiss her with no warning. She climbed into the golf cart. “I’ve practically forgotten about it already.” That had to be about the tallest tale she’d ever told.
“Are you referring to our kissing?”
“I…ah—”
“Hell, I’m not sorry about that.” He rested a hand on the bar supporting the canopy roof. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you but, trust me, I don’t regret it. Except maybe for rushing like a stupid fool and not doing it right.”
Not doing it right? Was he serious? “Um, okay.”
“I’m sorry for being in such a bad mood. I got into an argument with my dad earlier.”
“I see.” His admission came as no big surprise. She’d sensed an underlying friction between him and his parents on the day she’d met them.
He laughed bitterly. “It’s hardly our first one, and I guarantee you it won’t be our last. But thanks for caring.”
“I do. Care, that is.”
“Me, too.”
Their gazes connected and held. Maryanne’s heart began beating erratically.
Despite all her declarations and intentions to the contrary— not to mention Dusty’s excuses—it was clear he was beginning to get to her and that their relationship was anything but strictly business.
Maryanne reminded herself to proceed cautiously or risk being hurt.
“See you in a few days.” She turned the key, and Jet purred to life.
“Be careful driving back.” He removed his hand and retreated a step, looking sorry to see her go.
She decided on the ride back to the main building that it was a good thing she had a plane to catch in a few hours. If not, she might have suffered a lapse in judgment, stayed with Dusty and done something incredibly stupid like kiss him again.
And again.
THE RETURN FLIGHT TO Yellowstone Regional Airport went smoothly except for the last thirty minutes. Maryanne normally didn’t mind flying but landing in the middle of a thunderstorm—at night—wasn’t her idea of fun. Only when the commuter plane’s wheels touched the ground did she release her death grip on the armrests. Once the plane came to a complete stop, the mad race to disembark was on.
Dusty: Wild Cowboy Page 7
