Dusty: Wild Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  “Do you love Dusty?”

  “I…I…” When her voice failed, she nodded.

  “I’m guessing he feels the same.”

  “Then why didn’t he find a way to be with me?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “I did find a way.”

  “On your terms.”

  Was that true? She averted her eyes to stare at the people hurrying to their gates.

  “It takes two to make a relationship work.”

  “But it seems like I’m always the one compromising.” The one forced to wait. The one left behind.

  “If he won’t come to L.A.,” her father said, “you could move here.”

  Dusty had suggested the same thing. “I have my job to consider.”

  “Telecommute like you’re doing now.”

  “Jarred only tolerated that arrangement because it was temporary and he needed me on the Hamilton project.”

  Her father scoffed. “He’ll put up with it if he wants to keep you. If not, you’ll get a job here. Adele will give you a recommendation.”

  Dusty had also suggested that. What was it with men? Did they think all problems could be solved with a snap of the fingers?

  “Even if I wanted to move here, I wouldn’t leave you, Dad. I’m all you have.”

  “Well, ah…” He cleared his throat. “That’s the thing. I was going to tell you last night except you were so upset.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I’ve been talking to Adele the last couple of days.”

  Maryanne recalled seeing her father and Adele with their heads together at the jackpot.

  “She’s offered me a job.”

  “Doing what?” Maryanne sputtered. “Wrangling.”

  “You’re too old to be a wrangler!”

  Fortunately, her father chuckled rather than taking offense. “I’ve got a few good years left in the saddle, and I’d like to spend them here.”

  “But what about your job?”

  “I’ll take an early retirement.”

  “And the house?”

  “I’ll sell it.”

  “You and Mom lived in that house for almost thirty years!”

  “I know. I hate the idea of parting with it. What about you? Do you want it?”

  “I…I…no.” What she wanted was her dad living there. Forever. “You’re staying in Markton,” she repeated lamely.

  “Well, I’ll be back in a few weeks to close up the house and pack the contents.”

  Mindless of a potential audience, Maryanne promptly burst into tears.

  “Oh, Cookie. Don’t cry.”

  “I’ll be alone,” she blubbered.

  “You’ve been living on your own for years.”

  “But you and Mom were only forty minutes away. Not hundreds of miles.”

  “We’ll still visit. I’ll come home and you can fly here.”

  Maryanne could hardly hear him over the dull buzzing in her ears, fueled, she was convinced, by the pain exploding in her chest.

  “You’re leaving me, too.” The words were torn from her aching throat.

  “I’m not, honey.”

  “You are. Like everyone else.”

  The announcement about her flight departing couldn’t have come at a better time. She started to rise from the table. Her father stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Just because Dusty has to stay here and I took a—”

  “What about Scott and Ryan?” Maryanne pulled away and reached for her carry-on luggage. “And my mother.”

  “She died, honey. It’s not the same.”

  “I was talking about my birth mother.”

  Giving her father a quick peck on the cheeks, she pivoted and walked quickly to the security area. If she stopped, even for one second, her courage might fail her.

  Later, as she sat in her seat and stared out the airplane window at the Wyoming landscape that was both beautiful and primitive, her eyes filled with fresh tears. What was it about her that was so unloveable people were always choosing someone or something else over her?

  DUSTY WATCHED THE WRANGLER lope the young mare in slow circles around the arena.

  “She can really move out,” his companion commented. “Good leg action.”

  “She’s a little small for roping.”

  “But fast. Just watch. Hey, Joel!” the man, a horse seller from California, called to the rider. “Give her a run.”

  The wrangler trotted the mare to the far end of the arena, then galloped her across it at full speed. All at once, the wrangler brought the mare to a dirt-flying, bone-rattling stop not twenty feet in front of Dusty and the man.

  “Nice, huh?” The man’s eyebrows bobbed up and down. “She’s got speed and stamina. The darn thing’s not even breathing hard.”

  An exaggeration, but Dusty expected the man to talk up the horse. He was, after all, trying his best to make a sale.

  “I don’t know. With Dex laid up, we’re not really in the market for any roping stock. Especially a horse that’s so green.”

  “How’s your brother doing?” For the first time, the man dropped his sales persona.

  “Hates being laid up, as everyone within earshot is constantly reminded. He’s scheduled for another surgery the first week of October.”

  “That’s got to be tough.” The man shook his head sympathetically. “How you managing?”

  “I’m doing all right.”

  And he was doing all right, as far as work and Matt were concerned. The rest of his life, however, was another story. Without Maryanne it was empty and shallow and devoid of satisfaction. She’d only been gone three weeks but if felt like a century. A long, lonely century.

  The wrangler loped the mare back across the arena to await his next instructions.

  “I’ll take her,” Dusty said abruptly. “If you come down five thousand on the price.”

  “Let’s talk.” The man’s perpetual smile widened. “You by chance have a cold drink in that office of yours?”

  A half hour later, the man drove his empty horse trailer down the drive, both he and Dusty satisfied. The man because he’d gotten a decent price for the mare, though he’d protested vehemently that wasn’t the case, and Dusty because he had one less thought weighing on his mind.

  It had been like that ever since Maryanne left. Dusty made decisions and handled tasks quickly, allowing himself more time to dwell on the month they’d spent together and to regret the circumstances of their breakup.

  Given a second chance, he would have started out that last morning telling Maryanne how much he loved her.

  Even now it surprised him to realize the speed with which he’d fallen for her. But he had fallen, as his inability to bounce back proved. Not even finalizing the option deal with Sundown Pictures had eased his misery.

  “Did we buy a new mare?” Jesse joined Dusty as he was latching the door to the mare’s stall. They both rested their forearms on the low wall and watched her cautiously acquaint herself with her neighbors. “A tad on the small side.”

  “But she’s fast,” Dusty heard himself repeating the horse seller’s words.

  “You going to have any spare time to train her?”

  “No.” His days began at dawn and ended well after dark. “I’m considering sending her over to Adele’s.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  When his brother made no move to leave, Dusty asked, “Something on your mind?”

  “No.” Jesse pushed back from the wall in order to study Dusty. “But I’d say something’s on yours. And has been for weeks.”

  Dusty’s defenses rose. “I’m doing my job.”

  “Hell, you’re doing it and then some. No one in the family can quite believe how dedicated you are. I was going to set them straight, tell them they were wrong, then decided against it.”

  “Set them straight about what?”

  “That you haven’t turned over a new leaf, that you’re avoiding your problems.”


  “I don’t have any problems.”

  Jesse laughed, so loud he spooked the already skittish mare.

  “I’m a changed man,” Dusty said. “Isn’t that what everyone wanted?”

  “Changed, just not all for the better. None of us likes seeing you so down.”

  Dusty kneaded the back of his neck, which had been paining him for three solid weeks. “There’s just no pleasing you guys.”

  “Come on, Dusty.”

  “I did it—I stepped up. Now get your nose the hell out of my business.” He started to walk away, wishing there was something—anything—in his path he could kick.

  Jesse grabbed his arm.

  Dusty shook him loose. “Lay off me.”

  “Go after her.”

  “What?”

  “You’re in love with her, right?”

  Dusty gaped at his brother. “Why would you suggest I leave when you and everyone else are dead set against it?”

  “Not for good. Just long enough to convince her to move here.”

  “And you think the family would be okay with that?” Dusty scoffed.

  “I know they would. They like Maryanne.” His brother sobered. “We were wrong about you. Me and Dad, especially. We thought she’d be a distraction. Turns out, she’s the reason you’ve changed. Her and Matt.”

  Dusty should have been happy. After all these years, his family finally understood and supported him.

  Only it didn’t make him happy.

  Nothing had since Maryanne left.

  “I can’t go after her.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “She won’t move here.” She probably wouldn’t even talk to him. Not after the things he’d said to her.

  “You won’t know for sure unless you try.”

  Dusty wavered.

  “Come on, bro. You’re a Cody. We don’t quit. Not when we want something like I know you want Maryanne.”

  “And if she won’t agree to come?” Dusty voiced his biggest fear.

  “Then you’ll just have to fight for her. Like Dex did for Josie.”

  And like their father fought for their mother. Dusty still wasn’t sure what happened all those years ago but if his parents had given up on each other, he and his siblings wouldn’t be here now.

  “Do it.” Jesse slapped him on the back. “I’ll even fly you out there.”

  Dusty made another quick decision. The difference was this one set him free rather than added to his burdens. “All right.”

  Jesse beamed. “When?”

  “Friday. I have to watch Matt tomorrow.”

  “I’m surprised you can wait that long.”

  So was Dusty.

  MARYANNE PARKED HER CAR in her father’s driveway. A wave of acute sadness prevented her from immediately getting out. This could be—and probably was—the last visit she’d ever make to her parents’ home. Pulling herself together, she went inside, not bothering to ring the bell.

  “Dad, where are you?” she called, her voice echoing in the empty living room.

  “Back here.”

  She found him in the master bedroom, repairing the hinge on the adjoining bathroom door with a Swiss Army knife. The sight of the familiar room stripped of all its furnishings caused a painful lump to form in the back of her throat.

  “Where are the movers?” She hugged and kissed her father. Several phone calls and as many apologies had smoothed over their tiff at the Wyoming airport.

  “They left about a half hour ago.”

  “I can’t believe you got everything accomplished in one day.”

  “There wasn’t much to pack.” It was true. Her father had downsized considerably after her mother died. “Ann and Lou helped.”

  At the mention of her parents’ neighbors of the past fifteen years, the lump in Maryanne’s throat doubled in size. Who knew when she’d see them again?

  “I’d have been here sooner but Jarred insisted I stay to meet with a new client.”

  “It’s all right. We have the whole evening. I’m not leaving until the morning.”

  “So soon?” Maryanne let out a small cry. She’d planned for her father to stay with her for at least a few days before he returned to Markton.

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “But you just got here, and you’re already leaving?”

  Twice in one month was too much for her to take, and she let her emotions overwhelm her—something she’d been doing a lot of since breaking up with Dusty and returning to L.A. Their relationship might have been short-lived, but tell that to her aching heart.

  Maryanne had been operating in a blur for three weeks, missing Dusty, her father and—this was a huge surprise— Markton acutely. She had hoped the short visit with her father would alleviate some of her despair. Apparently not. Even the job she’d once loved had lost its appeal, becoming a drudgery.

  “Maybe I should go,” she muttered and hoisted her purse farther up on her shoulder.

  “Stop it.”

  Maryanne stared at her father, her mouth open. He hadn’t raised his voice to her in…well, she couldn’t remember when.

  He slowly retracted the screwdriver attachment on his Swiss Army knife and returned it to his pocket. When he spoke, his tone had softened.

  “I’ve often wondered why you push people away.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “No? What about now? I told you I was leaving in the morning and your first reaction is to hightail it out of here.”

  Maryanne’s lower lip trembled. She had been ready to run off and leave her father, even knowing she might not see him again until the holidays.

  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Your mom and I worried that being abandoned at such a young age had affected you,” he said in a hoarse voice. “That it was why you tended to bail out of relationships when the going got tough.”

  A jolt went through her. “I don’t bail out.” As soon as she spoke the words, she knew her father was right

  “It may not seem that way at first,” her father said gently, “but sometimes people aren’t leaving us as much as they’re leading us to a better place.”

  “Since when did you become philosophical?”

  “My perspective’s changed a lot recently. I think yours has, too. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

  She stared out the curtainless window at the backyard of her childhood home. “I know you love it in Wyoming but I wish you weren’t going back.”

  Her father smiled. “Why don’t you come with me?”

  “What!”

  “Just for the weekend. Long enough to talk to Dusty.”

  “He may not want to see me.”

  “’Course he will. He’s plumb crazy about you.”

  “You think?” Hoped stirred inside her. Had she been too hasty? Bailed, like her father said, instead of giving her and Dusty’s fledgling relationship a fighting chance?

  “Dusty’s a fine man, Cookie. Solid and dependable.”

  “He is, isn’t he?”

  In fact, Dusty Cody wasn’t anything like the wild cowboy everyone had described to her when she’d first arrived in Markton. He’d shown admirable responsibility and maturity by stepping up when his family needed him and fully embracing his role as Matt’s father.

  Wasn’t that the kind of man she’d always wanted to find? The kind of man she’d always hoped to marry?

  Yes. And just maybe if she tried hard enough, she could be the kind of woman he’d always wanted.

  “Come on.” She grabbed her father by the arm and dragged him from the bedroom. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My place to pack. Then to Cottonwood Ranch. I have an apology to make and some convincing to do.”

  Her father’s laugh resounded throughout the house. “That’s my Cookie.

  MARYANNE AND HER FATHER parked the old truck beside the practice arena at Cottonwood Ranch. Stones crunched noisily beneath their feet as they w
alked to the fence. Maryanne had worn her new boots, which had finally stretched and were beginning to fit better.

  Who’d have guessed she’d ever trade her Guccis for a pair of Tony Lamas?

  All at once, her heart tumbled inside her chest.

  Dusty stood in the arena with Matt, a practice dummy nearby. Maryanne congratulated herself on remembering what the fake calf head mounted on a metal stand was called. If she could learn the name of that, she could learn anything.

  Even how to become a bona fide country girl.

  “Hello.”

  She and her father halted at the female voice hailing them. Maryanne had been so focused on Dusty, she hadn’t noticed his parents standing nearby. As desperately as she wanted to see him, it seemed rude not to go over and speak to Anne and J.W.

  “Hi. How are you doing?” Concern that Dusty’s father would disapprove of her return visit kept her steps slow and measured.

  “You’ve come back.” Anne smiled brightly.

  “For a little while.”

  “Howdy, folks. Good to see you again, Maryanne.”

  She blinked. Was J.W.’s friendliness genuine or feigned because he thought she was leaving soon?

  “Hey,” Dusty called from the arena. “What are you doing here?”

  Even at a distance, she could see his surprise.

  “I came with Dad.” Yes, she’d stated the obvious but she was suddenly nervous having four pairs of eyes watching her and Dusty’s reunion.

  “I’m glad.” He sent her the same charming smile that had won her over the day they’d met.

  Relief made her knees weak. Whatever pushing she’d done hadn’t sent him away for good.

  “Give us a minute,” he said. “I’m just showing Matt a few tricks.”

  The boy clearly wasn’t getting the knack of roping—yet. That didn’t, however, affect the fun he and his father were obviously having.

  “How’s Dex?” Maryanne inquired of Anne.

  “Better. His doctor’s optimistic.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “I’m so glad we ran into you before you left again.”

  “She might be staying for good,” Maryanne’s father announced.

  There went her chance to talk to Dusty first.

  “Really?” Anne regarded her curiously.