Dusty: Wild Cowboy Read online

  As if on cue, the woman next to Maryanne pointed. “Look, here come them Cody boys.”

  Maryanne had become acquainted with her neighbor during yesterday’s practice. The woman and her husband were recent arrivals at Cowboy College, and he appeared to be a skilled roper.

  Dusty and Dex rode over to the open area behind the boxes and chutes. They looked tall and handsome astride their horses, though in Maryanne’s eyes, Dusty was just a little bit handsomer. Walker and Jesse accompanied them on foot. They didn’t rope but as Maryanne had learned, when it came to any rodeo event large or small, the “Cody boys” as her new friend had called them traveled in packs.

  It was also why the rest of Dusty’s family was there despite his father’s anger at him.

  The woman bumped shoulders with Maryanne. “If I weren’t plumb crazy about my Ernie, I’d take a turn at them. The single ones, that is. What about you?”

  At that moment, Dusty spied her across the arena and waved, his face splitting in a wide grin.

  “I guess you already did,” the woman said with a bawdy laugh.

  Maryanne and the woman chatted amiably until the first round of competition started. She easily followed the action, cheering along with the rest of the spectators when someone did well and clapping encouragingly when someone didn’t. It pleased her to realize how much knowledge she’d picked up in the past month and gave her hope that while she may not live in Dusty’s world, she could at least exist comfortably on the fringes.

  “Give that feller a hand,” the crackling voice on the one-speaker sound system announced when the competitor’s rope missed the calf entirely, “‘cuz that’s all the money he’s gonna take home today.”

  “How much do the winners get?” Maryanne asked her neighbor during a break.

  “It depends on how many people are competing and what the entry fee is. The total money collected is split between the winners. That’s why they call it a jackpot.”

  “I see.”

  Her father’s group was next. She kept her eyes glued to the box, waiting for him to take his turn. It wasn’t always easy to see with so many men standing on the fence. She hadn’t quite figured out why they did that, assuming they liked to be in the thick of things. Her wariness of horses had diminished since her ride with Dusty, but she was nowhere near ready to stand next to one like those men. Especially roping horses and rodeo stock, which were big and full of unpredictable energy.

  Finally, the announcer called her father’s name. He was the last to go in his class.

  “No one else has done very well,” Maryanne’s neighbor said. “He could win.”

  “I hope he does.” She leaned forward in her seat. “Then he can retire a champion.”

  “He’s quitting?”

  “I…ah…think he is.” She’d taken it for granted he would. That roping was a lark, one he’d abandon once he’d realized his ambition.

  “That’s too bad. He seems to love it, and he’s getting really good.”

  He did love it.

  Did they have roping facilities in the L.A. area? She made a mental note to look online later. Then again, he could always come back to Wyoming. And she could come, too—to watch her father rope and see Dusty.

  The door to the chute flew open releasing the calf, and her father, riding the horse from Cottonwood Ranch, broke from the box. It was over quickly. Very quickly. As her father knelt in front of the calf and threw his hands up in the air to signal he was done, the announcer called his unofficial time. Eleven-point-two seconds. Not bad for anyone, great for someone ranked a one. As he walked out of his arena, the announcer confirmed the time as official and verified by the judge. Applause broke out. Her father had won his class.

  Maryanne was thrilled.

  “Excuse me,” she said to her neighbor and left the bleachers to find her father and congratulate him. She located him behind the box talking with Adele, their heads bent in an obviously serious conversation. One they immediately ended the moment they spotted her.

  “Hi, Cookie! I won.”

  Her father’s exuberant smile and booming laugh didn’t quite dispel Maryanne’s concern that something was going on. Something her father didn’t want her to know about.

  “YOU READY?” DEX ASKED.

  “Yeah.” Dusty tugged on a loose glove and, for the fourth time in the past two minutes, checked his rope, rewinding it until it fit exactly right in his hand.

  Uno pawed the ground, eager to start. This had been a good season for them so far, and Dusty was confident they could—and would—win the National Finals Rodeo for tie-down roping and perhaps team roping. Not that he needed another belt buckle to add to his collection. But he wanted this one. If only to prove his worth to his family. They didn’t appreciate the effort or dedication required to write and sell a screenplay but they did when it came to rodeoing.

  Winning would also go a long way in mending his relationship with his father.

  For someone who was always bucking J.W.’s authority, Dusty sure seemed anxious to win his approval. The irony didn’t escape him.

  Cottonwood Ranch was his home, and he loved living there. And while he enjoyed managing the horses, it wasn’t his passion. Neither was working in films or providing trained horses, though both were fun and something he’d like to continue.

  Writing was what drove him, what fueled his need to succeed, what filled him with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. When he thought about what he wanted to do for the rest of his life, what he’d cut off his right arm for rather than give up, it was writing.

  He was also starting to have those same feelings for Maryanne, that his days wouldn’t be complete without waking up beside her.

  Shading his eyes, he searched the bleachers and spotted her sitting about midsection. She was easy to pick out, her clothes were better suited for walking down a city street than perched on some rickety wooden bleachers. He didn’t care what she wore. Seeing her, knowing she was there for him, infused him with a confidence that their future, while not guaranteed, was promising. Funny, he never dreamed that first day he saw her running barefoot into this same arena that she’d turn out to be the one woman he’d connect with more than any other.

  Could he finally be falling in love after years of diligently avoiding it?

  Yes. She was exactly what he needed and everything he wanted. He only hoped he didn’t disappoint her. Face it, he had a lousy track record. She’d be taking a big chance on him. Not to mention making room in her heart for his son because Dusty and Matt were a package deal.

  Fatherhood had come as a surprise to him but once he embraced it, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even, he realized, his writing.

  When had that happened?

  He didn’t need to scan the bleachers to find Matt. His son sat with the rest of Dusty’s family. This might only be a local jackpot, just another practice session for him and Dex, but his parents were sitting there watching as if this were indeed the Finals in Vegas.

  Like they sat in the stands at every competition.

  And regardless of their current differences, Dusty wanted them there.

  His throat abruptly tightened. Everything to make his life complete was here today, within his reach. Maryanne. His son. His family. His writing career.

  Nothing stopped him from having it all.

  And the fight with his father? They’d get past that, too. Somehow. Eventually.

  “Pay attention,” Dex warned.

  “I’m not the one sitting on a train wreck waiting to happen,” Dusty shot back.

  His brother’s horse had started acting up again shortly after they’d arrived—snorting, crow-hopping and nervously bobbing his head. Dex had managed to bring the animal under control each time but the strain was beginning to wear on him.

  “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” Dusty suggested.

  “Hell, yes, we’re doing it.” Dex pulled back on the reins, the muscles in his neck standing out.


  “Dex, Dusty, on deck,” one of the wranglers hollered at them.

  They moved closer to the box. Uno, all business now, stopped pawing the ground. Dusty checked his rope for the fifth time. Local jackpot or professional rodeo, competing was encoded into his DNA. Already his nerves were on fire, lit by the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  The team ahead of them went. Most of the competitors today were tie-down ropers. A few, like Dusty and Dex, were team ropers. The two men in the ring were the team to beat, and they finished with a very respectable time. Dusty was already calculating how he and Dex could better that time.

  Uno, in his eagerness to go, all but charged into the box, nearly running over a wrangler. The gelding had his eyes glued to the calf. His uncanny ability to sense which direction the calf would bolt had made him an exceptional roping horse.

  Dex’s horse initially balked but eventually settled into the box beside Dusty and Uno. Dusty glanced one last time over his shoulder at his brother who nodded. Blocking out everyone and everything, he narrowed his world to just his horse, the calf and the rope coiled in his hand.

  A curt nod to the man on the ground, the chute door flew open, and the calf leaped out, hitting the ground at a dead run. Uno took off after the calf at a full gallop, turning on a dime as it darted sharply to the right. Dusty’s arm was in the air and the rope circling his head before they’d traveled three feet. He could sense Dex right behind him, and for the next several seconds, magic happened.

  Dusty’s rope sailed out in front of him and landed right where it should, squarely on the calves horns. Only Dex’s rope didn’t snake out and circle the calf’s rear feet as it should have. Instead, the calf loped off with only Dusty’s rope trailing behind him. He reined Uno to a stop and turned around.

  What he saw wasn’t good.

  Dex’s horse had acted up again, and his attempts to calm the animal were failing. Dropping his rope, he used both hands to jerk back on the reins. Several wranglers hopped off the fence and approached cautiously. Dusty also moved in closer, thinking a familiar horse might settle the agitated gelding. He thought wrong, unfortunately, and the horse reared on its hind legs.

  Dusty didn’t immediately panic. His brother could sit a riled horse better than anyone. But then Dex suddenly lost his balance and fell backward over the saddle onto the ground. Dusty jumped down from Uno and ran toward his brother, glad to see Dex roll clear of danger. The riderless horse ran off, bucking his way to the end of the arena where another pair of wranglers caught him. The crowd cheered when Dex staggered to his feet, favoring one leg.

  “You okay?” Dusty asked when his brother’s face twisted in a severe grimace.

  “Yeah.” Dex glanced at his horse, now standing quietly for the wrangler holding him. “Son of a bitch.” He attempted a step…and went down like he’d been slammed from behind.

  The audience’s collective gasp drowned out his cry of pain.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For the first time in his life, Dusty spent the entire night in a hospital waiting room. The Codys had taken over the area outside the ICU, huddling together as if the sheer force of their prayers would improve Dex’s condition.

  He’d pulled through his 3 a.m. surgery with no complications and, according to the doctor, was stable. Orders were already in place to move him to a regular room the moment one became available. Josie had been allowed to visit Dex after he was out of recovery but no one else.

  The only Cody to leave the hospital and go home was Matt. He’d conked out about ten the previous night. Josie’s parents had picked him up and taken him to their house. He was also, according to his grandparents’ report, the only Cody to get more than a few snatches of sleep here and there.

  As morning dawned, they’d gone in pairs and trios to the hospital cafeteria for a bite to eat. With Dex doing well, there was no reason they couldn’t leave and return later but none of them were willing to until they’d seen him and assured themselves he was all right.

  Finally, at around seven-thirty, Dex’s doctor exited the ICU after checking on him. Everyone sprang from their chairs in unison.

  Josie reached the doctor first. “How is he?”

  “Good.” He addressed the entire group, all eight of them. “You can visit him, two at a time and only for a few minutes. He needs his rest.”

  “What’s his prognosis?” J.W. asked the question on all of their minds.

  “His knee is badly damaged and will require at least one additional surgery. Possibly two. We won’t know for sure until we run more tests and see how he progresses.” He gave a detailed description of Dex’s injury which included a dislocated kneecap, ruptured tendons and torn ligaments. “If not treated correctly, he could suffer permanent damage.”

  Josie bit back a soft sob.

  Dusty’s stomach clenched as if he’d been kicked in the gut. They’d been riding their whole lives from the time they could walk, competing in rodeos across the country since they were kids and taking ridiculous risks without so much as blinking an eye. That Dex should injure himself during a local jackpot in what appeared to be a minor fall boggled Dusty’s mind.

  The doctor continued laying out Dex’s lengthy and involved rehabilitation program. He was considered to be the best orthopedic surgeon in the state and had been called in by J.W. the previous night to take over Dex’s case. When the doctor finished, the family voiced their commitment to ensuring Dex made a full recovery. After shaking J.W.’s hand and promising to speak to them again the following day, the doctor left.

  Josie and Dusty’s mother couldn’t wait any longer and went first to visit Dex. The rest of them resumed waiting.

  “One month bed rest.” Jesse ran his fingers through his spiky blond hair. “Then another surgery.”

  “And at least three weeks on crutches after that,” Walker added.

  “Damn. What rotten timing.” Dusty leaned the back of his head against the wall, the long night catching up with him.

  “There’s another Nationals next year.”

  “I was talking about him and Josie just getting married.”

  “Ah.” Jesse stuck his hand in the left side of his shirt, lifting the material several times to simulate a beating heart. “I forgot you’re the writer in the family and a romantic.”

  Unlike their father, Dusty’s oldest brother didn’t hold a grudge. He’d apologized the day after their fight for slugging Dusty, who’d assured him retribution was coming at some unspecified future date.

  “Maybe he’s just in love.” Walker wore the look of a besotted newlywed, which he was.

  Dusty picked up a magazine off the nearby table and threw it at him. Walker ducked, and the magazine missed him by a mile.

  Elly put down her BlackBerry. “Stop it, you guys,” she said in a fair imitation of their mother.

  Dusty paid her no heed and reached for a second magazine.

  “Enough,” J.W. growled. He turned to Dusty. “Have you contacted that production company yet and told them you’re refusing their offer?”

  The grin he’d been wearing died. “Let’s not talk about this now.”

  “Why not? It’s as good a time as any.”

  Dusty frowned. “I told you, I’m taking the offer.”

  “What’s going on?” Jesse asked. “Nothing.”

  “Your brother’s laid up and will be for a couple of months.” J.W. stood.

  So did Dusty. “Which has nothing to do with my screenplay.”

  A nurse from the nearby station glowered at them.

  Walker stepped in. “Maybe we should discuss this at home.”

  J.W. didn’t appear to hear him. “You have to take over for Dex and manage the horses while he’s laid up,” he told Dusty.

  “I can do that.”

  “Not if you’re gone two out of every four weeks.”

  “We have more than enough experienced hands to pick up the slack.”

  “They’re not family. It’s not their duty.”

&nbs
p; “But it’s their job, and they’re paid well to do it.”

  “It’s also your job. One you don’t take seriously.”

  Dusty thought of Maryanne and the plans they’d made. “I’m signing the contract and going to L.A. The ranch can survive without me for a week.”

  “One week, sure,” Jesse said. “But then you’ll have another film job or another meeting with the production company.”

  “Even one day is too long,” J.W. cut in. “We have a crisis on our hands.”

  The crisis, in Dusty’s opinion, was more Dex’s and less the rest of theirs. His brother was the one going to be laid up, the one facing a long recovery, extensive physical therapy and considerable pain. The one forced to put his life on hold after just getting married.

  Maybe his father had a point. Dex didn’t need to be worrying about his job on top of everything else.

  “J.W.” Dusty’s mom entered the waiting area along with Josie. “Don’t pressure Dusty into doing something he doesn’t want to.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, Mom.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles aching. “I accepted the offer, and I won’t back out.”

  “Because it would damage your career,” J.W. scoffed.

  “Because a Cody honors their word. You taught me that.”

  “I also taught you to put family first.”

  It was on the tip of Dusty’s tongue to ask if his father had put family first when he cheated on his wife.

  “Will finalizing your contract take an entire week? Heck, we do most of our contracts by e-mail these days.”

  Dusty sent Jesse a look that warned him to mind his own business.

  He immediately defended himself. “I’m just trying to come up with a compromise.”

  “I also have a meeting with my agent.”

  “How much of that week will you be spending with Maryanne?”

  Dusty didn’t answer.

  “Let me rephrase the question,” Jesse said. “Is she the reason you refuse to take over for Dex?”