Bachelor Cowboy (4 page)

Read Bachelor Cowboy Online

Authors: Roxann Delaney

BOOK: Bachelor Cowboy
11.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She had to bite down on her lip to keep from asking why family wasn’t in his plans. She was pretty sure she knew the answer. When she was still in high school, she’d
heard about his marriage and the subsequent end of it. She shouldn’t have asked. It was really none of her business.

And he might just start asking her the same kind of questions. If she wasn’t willing to discuss her own life, why should she expect him to share his?

She looked up to find him staring at her, and her breath caught deep in her chest. Hands trembling, she snatched a plastic bag out of her pocket and began stuffing it with sandwiches. Closing it, she handed it to him.

“I need to get this load taken,” she said in a rush.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked as she scrambled into the truck and started the engine.

She didn’t miss the humor in his eyes and realized she was coming too darned close to making a fool of herself. As she drove the load of wheat to the grain elevator in Desperation, she scolded herself for her interest and for letting him see that he made any impression at all on her. She also reminded herself that he would only be around for a few weeks. After that, he would be gone, and life would be back to normal. Or as normal as it could be, while she searched for a plan to keep Aunt Aggie from leasing the land.

 

T
HE SOUND OF RAIN
hitting the windows before the sun rose on Thursday morning put Dusty in a black mood. He had expected rain at some point, but the timing was bad. Just when he was enjoying his work, harvest would now come to a grinding halt for several days. He had always hated idle time and was usually either competing in a rodeo or on his way to the next one. During the few times there were neither, he accepted offers from friends to stay with them, and he always helped with chores or whatever was needed.

Not only would he miss the work at the Claybornes’, but he would miss Kate. She had steered clear of him for the past two days, and he guessed it was because of her questions and his answers to them. He didn’t often talk about his personal life, but she had been so straightforward, he hadn’t been able to keep from answering. There was something so different about her that he was intrigued enough to find out just what it was that had him interested.

Standing by the old enamel kitchen sink in his grandparents’ farmhouse, Dusty drank his coffee out of a chipped earthenware cup and debated what to do with his day. A glance around the room reminded him again that he needed to do some repairs and freshen up the place. He’d never used it and had given some thought over the past couple of years to renting it to someone. The farmland was leased to neighbors, and there had been nothing waiting for him here. No family, no children, no wife, only this house his grandparents had left him when they’d died six years ago. In that time, the place had aged, but a little bit of work would get it back into shape.

He finished his coffee, rinsed his cup and left it in the sink, then sprinted through the rain to his pickup truck to start the drive into Desperation for breakfast. With the weather good the first three days he had worked for Miss Aggie, they had accomplished a lot. Since returning to the area, he hadn’t done a lot of socializing, and he was feeling the need for a little company. Somehow he knew at least one Clayborne wouldn’t look kindly on him arriving at the farm when there wasn’t any work to do. But the day wouldn’t be a waste, he decided, ready to become a part of the community again, if only for a few weeks.

The drive was more like twenty minutes than the ten it normally took, thanks to the rain turning the dirt roads to mud, but it was worth the trouble. Once there, and with his fingers curled around a sweating glass of orange juice, Dusty felt the slight breeze from the ceiling fan stir the humid air in the small café. Eyes closed, he began to think about what it would take to fix up his house.

The metal clang of the ancient bell over the door broke through the noisy buzz of the room and claimed his attention, but he didn’t move a muscle. The breakfast crowd had wandered in and out as he had ordered and eaten, leaving him to his musings, except for an occasional hello and a few rodeo questions from someone who recognized him.

“I need a man.”

Dusty’s eyes drifted open. Looking up, he saw a familiar figure posed just inside the door of the café, one fist propped on her denim-covered hip. The gray in her hair contradicted the strength and determination he recognized in her eyes.

The fan above him whirred as a hush fell over the room. His attention grabbed, he watched and waited, half curious, half amused to see Miss Aggie in action.

A burly man in overalls seated at the scarred counter swiveled around on a squeaky metal stool. “You’ve needed a man for years, Aggie. Don’t you think that’s a strange way to go about getting yourself one?”

Smothered laughter echoed in the background, but Aggie’s narrowed gaze never wandered from the man. “Hmmph. A lot you know, Gerald Barnes.”

Dusty swore the look she gave him would have shriveled most people, but Gerald chuckled and turned back to the plate of pancakes in front of him.

She sent a daring glare around the room before she continued. “I need a man to help bring in a load of pies.”

Dusty shoved away from his table in the corner and got to his feet. “I’ll help, Miss Aggie.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Morning, Dusty. I didn’t expect to see you today. Thought you’d be taking it easy.”

“I am,” he answered with a smile, “but I’m more than happy to help you.”

With a nod, she started for the door. “Pies are in the truck. Cherry, apple, peach and pecan,” she announced and marched out the door.

Dusty’s mouth watered at the thought of the pies waiting outside, even though he had just finished a decent breakfast. He could almost taste the sweet tartness of the pies, when a hand clamped onto his shoulder.

“I hear you’re helping with harvest,” Gerald said, stopping on his way to the door. “Don’t let Miss Agatha get to you. She’s a good one, no matter how much we tease her. And the meals alone at the Claybornes’ are enough pay for a hard day’s work. Just make sure you don’t get on the wrong side of that redhead, or you could find yourself in Doc Priller’s office with a case of ptomaine.”

Dusty stared at the man, not sure what to say, until Gerald whacked him on the back. “Just kidding, son. You can’t go wrong with Kate Clayborne’s cooking. Enjoy it.”

“I sure intend to,” Dusty answered with a smile and followed him out the door.

After Gerald shouted a goodbye to Aggie, who waited at the back of the pickup parked diagonally at the curb, Dusty caught up with her. “Four boxes of
them,” she said, pulling off a plastic tarp in the bed of the truck. “Just be careful not to drop them.”

“They’re beauties,” he said, peering into the boxes. “Three of each?” He reached in to lift a box, making sure he had a good grasp on the cardboard and didn’t tilt it.

She took it from him. “There’s more at home. Come on by later and have a slice. Or two.”

Pulling out the second box, he grasped it in one arm. “Give me that one,” he told her, nodding at the one she held. She settled the first in his other arm. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome at the farm, seeing there won’t be any work done today.”

“Won’t be for a few more days, by the look of it,” she answered, glancing at the cloudy sky overhead. “At least it’s stopped raining for a while. We can’t do with too much.” She walked to the door of the café with a slight limp and pulled it open for him. “But there’s no reason for you to be a stranger. We’re always glad to have a little company, and I’m sure the girls are happy to spend some time with someone closer to their ages.”

Dusty stood in the open doorway and turned his head to look at her, taking care to keep his voice low. “That knee bothering you, Miss Aggie?”

She started to shake her head, but shrugged her shoulders. “A little, what with this weather. But it’ll get better. It always does, once the sun starts shining again. I expect we’ll be back at work in a couple of days, if the weatherman was being honest and had a clue about the forecast. In the meantime, there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy the time off.”

“That’s what I’m hoping to do,” he said, passing by her into the café.

After the second trip with the third and fourth boxes, Aggie thanked him for his help. Climbing into her truck, she settled in and rolled down her window. “I was serious about the pies at home.”

“Thanks for the invitation, but I may take a rain check on it, depending on what I find to do.”

Aggie squinted and looked up at the sky. “You might want to make that a sunshine check, but like I said, stop by anytime.”

He watched as she backed onto the street and waved as she drove away. Yep, he was planning to enjoy the day, in spite of the weather. Kate had conspicuously avoided him after he had put a stop to her curiosity and questions, and Trish had been busy with other things. Aggie had been his only source of decent conversation, and that had been limited because they had been so busy.

Maybe, he thought with a smile, as he wandered back into the café, Kate would be done with her mad-on.

He’d hang around the café a little longer, before heading out to the Claybornes’ for some pie. It wouldn’t hurt to catch up on the latest town gossip—or even some more ancient—and he might pick up a few things about the family that employed him. He might even get a handle on Kate and what people thought of her. And if that didn’t happen, he could simply enjoy the company. But he had to admit that it was Kate who was on his mind.

Chapter Three

“So this is where you hide out.”

Startled, Kate looked up from her work to find Dusty leaning against the door frame of her tiny office in Desperation’s old opera house. Her stomach gave a flutter, which she immediately ignored. “I’m not hiding out. I’m working.”

Going back to her work and hoping that by ignoring him, he would take the hint that she wasn’t interested, she was nonetheless completely aware that he hadn’t gone away.

“Income tax preparation,” he said, the sound of his voice nearer than before. “You’re an accountant?”

Keeping her eyes on the paperwork in front of her, she pointed her pen over her shoulder. “With a diploma from the University of Oklahoma to prove it.” Without meaning to, she looked up and directly into his eyes, but she held her ground. He would
not
charm her today. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I find it interesting.” He took the last few steps to her desk, and then perched on the edge of it. “Isn’t tax season over?”

Kate felt her heart rate increase and frowned. She didn’t like the feeling, and she certainly didn’t like him being so close to her. “Usually, yes, but Tom Travers filed an extension back in March.”

It was a good excuse and had worked well when Aunt Aggie had returned from making a delivery to the café that morning and told her that Dusty was stopping by the farm for a piece of pie. Not particularly pleased at the news and wanting to make some headway on a plan to keep her aunt from leasing the farm, Kate had decided her office would be a safe place. She’d been wrong.

And just why was he here? Not to have his taxes done, she was sure. “What are you doing here, Dusty?”

“I was at the café and heard there’d been renovations on the old opera house, so I came by to see and saw you in here.”

He reached across the desk to her papers and pulled one toward him. “I never realized you were a number cruncher.”

She quickly retrieved her notes and folded her arms on top of them. “Is there some reason you should know that?”

“Curiosity,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “People are interesting. You can learn a lot just by watching.”

When he leaned across the desk, she was too slow to react, and he managed to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Cursing herself for her racing heart and for not being on guard, she straightened her shoulders and leaned back in her chair. From that position, she figured he’d have to vault the desk to touch her.

“Yes,” she said, then cleared the breathiness from her
throat, “people watching can be educational. Maybe you should go out and find more to watch.”

“Take you for example,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Let’s not.”

“You’re a hard worker,” he continued, apparently oblivious to anything she said. “Dedicated to farming and, from what I’ve heard, more knowledgeable about it than many.”

She looked up at him and wished she hadn’t.

“Do I have that right?” he asked, his warm gaze on her.

Quickly looking at his shirt buttons to avoid that gaze, she shrugged. “If you say so. Now if you’ll—”

“And now this.” He pointed at the papers spread out on her desk, then turned his attention elsewhere. “The rain has stopped and the sun is out. It’s a beautiful day out there, yet here you are, working away.”

She didn’t see any reason in trying to participate in the conversation, when he seemed to be the only one talking and certainly wasn’t listening.

“What do you do for fun, Kate?”

The question took her by surprise, and she looked up. “Fun?”

“Yeah, fun. All work and no play make Kate a dull girl.”

Feeling a bit insulted, she took a deep breath. “If I’m so dull, why are you still here?”

His mouth turned up in a slow, sexy smile. “Maybe I like the company.”

She gave an unladylike snort. “And maybe
I
don’t.”

“Maybe we could go out sometime.”

She couldn’t believe he had said that. “Go out?”

“Yeah, like on a date.”

“I don’t date,” she said, without missing a beat.

“You’re already taken?”

“No, I just don’t date.” She didn’t feel the need to tell him she had dated in the past. Those times were on her list of disappointments. She had always been too unsure of herself. From the moment she and Trish had arrived in Desperation, she had tried to stay in the background. And now it seemed Dusty was doing his best to pull her out in the open.

“Why don’t you date?”

Her frustration at his digging was beginning to take its toll. Still, she reminded herself, she had dug into
his
personal life, asking questions she shouldn’t have of someone she hardly knew. “I really don’t have time for it. Besides, why do I need to date?”

For a moment, he merely looked at her. “That’s the strangest question I’ve ever heard. I think mine was better.”

“That’s not a surprise.”

“But I’ll answer it anyway.”

When he stopped to take a breath, she held up her hand. “That’s okay,” she hurried to say before he could get a start. “I retract the question.”

“No, it’s not okay. I want to answer it.”

“There’s no need to.”

Again, their gazes locked, and he shrugged his shoulders. “If you say so.”

She was relieved. She didn’t need him or anyone else telling her how strange she was. She admitted it. But she hadn’t been so different before the accident had taken her parents’ lives. She and Trish had been like peas in a pod as children, happy and content, with more friends than they could count. The accident hadn’t
changed Trish much, but it had Kate. Angry and grief-stricken, she had taken scissors to her long red hair and whacked off the lengths that her mother had brushed every night. It had been a foolish, adolescent act, and she had paid the price in embarrassment later. Being different became her hallmark, and she was now accustomed to it, finally feeling right in her skin.

“I remember you in high school,” he said, as if he could read her mind.

“I doubt that,” she replied, knowing full well that she had stood out among others, at least for a while. Once Trish began making friends and her own hair had begun to grow out, Kate was able to disappear in the crowd of other students.

“I didn’t say I knew you, but I do remember you, at least a little.”

“Because of my hair,” she said, accepting the fact.

“And you were new in the school. That’s the way it is in small schools. I was new once, too, so I know what it’s like.”

She didn’t want him to understand. She didn’t want them to have anything at all in common. “Then you’ll understand when I say that I have work to do.”

“Checkmate. You win this game.” He stood, but didn’t move toward the door. “This doesn’t let you off the hook though. I’m serious about you getting out more. I’ve traveled all over the country and beyond. Desperation is a great little town, but you can’t really know how great until you have some perspective. The same is true in life.” His sudden grin was devilish. “And dating.”

She couldn’t believe he was still thinking of that.
“You’re equating extensive travel with dating? How do you come up with this?”

“The more people you get to know—through dating—the better your perspective, just like travel.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’ll keep that in mind the next time I plan a vacation,” she said, knowing she really didn’t care.

“In your case, I’d say you need to start small. Locally would do, and I’m more than happy to help with it.” He turned and walked to the door, but before stepping out of the office, he turned back. “Looks like we’ll be back in the field on Monday, if the skies stay clear. I’ll see you then.”

Kate could only stare. When he was gone, she breathed a sigh of relief. The tingles that always went off when he was around could go back to sleep. She was happy where she was, working the land and making extra money with her accounting business and a little cooking. She didn’t need him or anyone else to provide entertainment. Or happiness.

 

W
ITH THE FIELDS
still too wet to get into with a combine and the Saturday morning baking finished, Kate decided to take the rest of the day off and do nothing. Sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through one of Trish’s bridal magazines, she heard voices and looked up to see her aunt limp into the kitchen on her bad knee, with Dusty right behind her.

“Pull up a chair and make yourself at home,” Aggie told him with a wave of her hand in the direction of the chair near Kate.

Not wanting to be near him, after his appearance at her office two days before, and considering the effect he had on her, Kate jumped up. “I’ll get that laundry finished.”

But Aggie stopped her. “No, you keep Dusty company while I finish it.”

“But your knee—”

“Gotta keep moving or it’ll stiffen up more,” Aggie said, as she disappeared into the hallway.

Knowing how bad-tempered her aunt could be when her knee was hurting, Kate did as she was told. Aunt Aggie’s stubborn streak sometimes precluded common sense.

“I would think you’d be out getting more perspective on the world,” Kate said, without looking at Dusty, as she returned to her chair and pretended to read the magazine.

He pulled out the chair next to her and sat. “A friend of mine’s riding in a rodeo over in Altus.”

“That’s nice,” she said, as unaffectedly as possible.

“I thought I’d see if you might want to go along.”

She continued to flip through pages and prayed he couldn’t hear how her heart had suddenly started thudding. “Sorry, but I have—”

“Dusty, would you like some pie?”

Kate looked up to see her aunt standing in the doorway and wondered how much she had overheard.

“That’d be great,” he answered.

Aggie limped to the cabinet and opened it, pulling out a large plate. “What kind? Peach, apple, cherry or pecan?”

For a second, Dusty didn’t speak, his brow furrowed in thought. “Peach. No, apple. No, make it peach.”

Chuckling, Aggie placed the plate and a fork on the table. “Cut him a piece of each, Kate.”

Kate again did as she was told and went to the counter, where she removed a dishtowel covering the four pies. After cutting a large piece of peach and apple,
she turned to Dusty. “Are you sure you don’t want to try the cherry and pecan, too?”

“Maybe later.”

She hoped there wouldn’t be a later. The sooner he left, the better. But if the gleam in his eye was any indication, later wasn’t that far away. “Hand me the plate, would you?”

He jumped up to pass her the plate with a smile that made her breath catch, and then returned to his chair. “Now, back to my question.”

“What question was that?” Aggie asked, taking her usual seat across the table.

“I answered it,” Kate said, “or tried to.” She shot a look at her aunt. Had Aunt Aggie been listening outside in the hall?

“I asked Kate if she’d like to go to a rodeo in Altus with me. You might know the friend who’s riding. Shawn O’Brien.”

“Of course we know him,” Aggie said. “And all the O’Briens. I’ve known Tanner since he was born, and Kate and Trish both know his wife Jules. What event is Shawn competing in?”

“Bronc riding, like his uncle. I didn’t know Tanner well until we met up, years ago, on the circuit. Shawn and I have team roped together some.” Dusty turned to look at Kate. “So how about it?”

“I usually spend time with the family on Saturday,” Kate began, “so I’m sure you understand—”

“No need to do that,” Aggie said. Standing, she walked to the door and grabbed a set of keys hanging from a hook. “I thought I told you we planned to pay Hettie a visit. You know how much she loves your pies,
and I haven’t had a chance to see her for a while. Trish has been looking forward to it.”

As if on cue, Trish stepped into the kitchen, her purse in her hand, and took one of the pies, before she hurried to the door with nothing more than a quick smile.

Kate glanced at Dusty, who held a forkful of pie on its way to his mouth, his smile reaching from ear to ear. She wasn’t sure what to think. This was the first she knew about a visit to Hettie Lambert. “But—”

“Why don’t you go on along to the rodeo with Dusty, Kate?” Aggie held the door open and Trish stepped outside. “We’ll be gone most of the day. Trish wants to stop at the library before it closes. No need for you to stay here alone, when you can get out and enjoy yourself.”

“No, I can’t—” But her aunt was out the door, down the porch steps and almost trotting to the pickup, in spite of her bad knee, and Trish was already waiting at the truck.

Kate stood at the door and stared after them as they drove away. She couldn’t imagine what Dusty might be thinking.

When she turned around, she saw that he had finished the first piece of pie and had started on the second. Setting his fork on the plate, he looked up at her, his grin challenging. “Afraid to spend time alone with me?”

She wasn’t about to let him think that and offered a confident smile of her own. “Not on your life.”

Other books

Sexier Side of the Hill by Victoria Blisse
Filaria by Brent Hayward
Lady Pirate by Lynsay Sands
The Legend of El Shashi by Marc Secchia
Me & Jack by Danette Haworth
Thin Ice by Laverentz, Liana
My Vampire and I by J. P. Bowie
The Hunt (Mike Greystone, Book 1) by Michael Sigurdsson