Cowboy Heaven (9 page)

“I didn't say that, Dusty.”

“No, but you were probably thinking it,” he said ruefully. “I know you would because it's true. But I do care about you, Angela. All of us do—although maybe not in the same way. The day Cody died, I wanted to take you in my arms and hold you until you stopped crying. I wanted to help you so badly I could hardly stand it. I couldn't bear to see you that way. But I knew I wasn't the one you loved. You loved your husband, and he was dead. That wasn't the right time for me. But it is now. I love you, Angela. I truly do.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. If he'd said something like that to me only a few days before, I would have fallen into his arms without hesitation.

But now there was Troy.

Why had Dusty waited until today to tell me this? What was it Troy had said—that Dusty must have gotten the idea there was something between Troy and me and that he'd better “pee or get off the pot”? Was that the reason this was happening now? Was Troy the catalyst? Was Dusty finally jealous enough to speak up?

He'd seen me sniffing Troy's cologne, perhaps realizing I was attracted to Troy and had come out to the bunkhouse hoping to get a whiff of him. The jealousy issue was a much better explanation than my half-baked conspiracy theory. The trouble was, I couldn't respond to Dusty the way I might have if Troy hadn't shown up. Telling him about my relationship with Troy, such as it was, might have made it easier on him. After all, saying you're in love with someone else is perhaps the gentlest way of telling a person you can't love them—at least not in the way they deserve to be loved.

I genuinely cared for Dusty, and I wouldn't want to hurt him for the world. I could have said I hadn't gotten over Cody yet, although that wouldn't have sounded very convincing—not when he'd caught me with my nose in Troy's cologne. The web of deceit was becoming even more tangled, and now Dusty was caught up in it too.

Not having any idea what I should say to him, I must've been staring at him with God only knew what expression on my face. Obviously, this wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for in the wake of his declaration. His face fell, reminding me of someone else I'd had to tell that I couldn't love him—a boy I'd known in high school who hadn't known I'd just started dating Cody.

“I had no idea you felt that way,” I said. Dusty had always been friendly, but that didn't mean he loved me. “I never
dreamed
…”

He shrugged in a self-deprecating manner. “It's okay. I never believed you could ever love me back. Like I said, you loved Cody, and I'm nothing like him. Aside from that, what with the attitude around here being what it is, you probably never even thought of me as a man. I'm just another cowboy, and my feelings aren't your concern.”

This sounded pretty harsh, even coming from a man who'd been rejected. Although I knew Dad's attitude was probably at the heart of the matter, I'd never been unkind or unfeeling toward Dusty, at least not that I was aware of, and his words cut me to the quick.

“I'm sorry, Dusty. I can understand why you might think that. But, believe me, that isn't how I feel about you guys. As far as I'm concerned, you're practically family. Dad may have been warning me to stay away from the ranch hands since I was a kid, but I still have feelings, even though they may not always show.”

“Oh, really?” His hurt and anger gave way to sarcasm. “Why don't you tell me what you
do
feel about me, Angela? I think I'd like to know.”

Despite the heat of the day, icy chills gripped my chest. The prospect of telling him the truth made me feel even worse. The painful, heartbreaking truth…“You think I believe I'm too good for you?” I nearly choked on the words. “That isn't it at all. You're—”

I had to stop. The shuddering ache in my chest was too much. I crossed my arms and squeezed, trying to hold myself together. “You're so adorable—but not for a woman like me. You're right. I'm too old. You ought to be out partying every Saturday night with a bunch of hot, young cowgirls crawling all over you. I should have to pay through the nose to get someone like you to say you loved me. That should be my only hope of ever hearing those words come out of your mouth. I still don't believe it, even now.”

That was the absolute truth. I
didn't
believe it. Not really. “I've already had the love of my life, Dusty. I can't kid myself into thinking I'll ever find another one. I'm not that lucky.”

“You might be, if certain people would mind their own business.” Even though Dusty wasn't mentioning any names, I was pretty sure I knew who he was talking about.

“That's what I get for never leaving home,” I said with a grimace. “There are too many men around here who think of themselves as my father. Rufus and Calvin have been here since I was a kid, and they probably
still
see me that way. You would think after raising two boys of my own they would've figured out I'd grown up.”

Dusty smiled at me for the first time since he'd walked through the door. “Maybe it's the braids. They make you look like a little girl.”

Although the tension had eased a tad, I still felt chilled to the bone. Shivering, I looked down at my hands. They were pale beneath my tan, the nail beds showing the bluish tint I associated with midwinter. “If that's the case, I'd better start wearing my hair in a bun.”

“Or you could twist it up with one of those clip things.” His teasing smile became a seductive grin. “Be a lot easier to take down.”

Thank God for that grin. A suggestive attitude from a younger man was much easier to deal with than a sincere declaration of his love. Placing my hands firmly on my hips, I arched a brow. “You've obviously given this some thought.”

“I certainly have.” His gaze swept me up and down, making me feel like he'd stripped me naked with his eyes. “
Lots
of thought, especially at night when I'm lying here alone wishing I had you for company.”

I let out a derisive snort. “If you're thinking about
me
in the middle of the night, you obviously need to get out more.”

“I get out plenty,” he protested. “I just don't find anything I like better than what's right here at home.”

“Then you aren't looking in the right place. Maybe you should steer clear of the strip joints and go someplace where there are women you might find a more lasting relationship with.” I'd heard stories from Jenny about what my cowboys did on Saturday nights. They weren't as wild as some, but they did have their moments.

“I might. If you'll go with me.” His eyes held a glimmer of challenge, daring me to take a chance…

Ignoring the fact that after two very dry years a man had actually asked me to go out with him, I took a different tack. “I should do that—should round up the lot of you and drop you off at a bar and pick you up the next morning.”

The slow wag of his head was so subtle I nearly missed it. “That's not what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant,” I retorted. “I'm trying to change the subject.”

“Mind telling me why? Don't you like me?”

Dammit, if he didn't stop looking at me like that, I was going to forget Troy and pounce on him. “I like you a lot, Dusty. But I can't help thinking the only reason you're saying any of this is due to a lack of options rather than an actual choice.”

His shrug conveyed his dim view of my opinion. “I'll go if you insist, although I don't think it'll help. Especially now that I've kissed you. You didn't exactly turn me off.”

Where the hell were those “father figures” when I needed them? He hadn't exactly turned
me
off, either. I was actually contemplating how I could have an affair with both him and Troy at the same time when Troy and Bull walked into the bunkhouse. No doubt at first glance, we appeared to be innocent. We were both fully clothed, and Dusty was sitting in his chair while I stood a good three feet away from him. Nevertheless, I felt like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

Or Dusty's pants…

Bull made a dramatic full stop in the doorway, tossing his hat across the room onto his bunk in disgust. “Well, shit. I see you're in here goofin' off while we're out workin' our asses to the bone. I guess I need to break a goddamn leg too.”

“Be my guest,” Dusty snapped right back at him. “Or better yet, why don't you break your jaw so we won't have to listen to you?”

I couldn't have agreed with Dusty more, but it would have been unkind of me to say so. Mentally, however, I was shouting,
Way
to
go, Dusty!

Troy simply rolled his eyes and smiled. He'd obviously had to listen to Bull all day and was ready for some peace and quiet. I probably should have excused myself and left before the fight escalated to a brawl. However, feeling the need for some comic relief, I stayed put, preparing to be entertained. Dusty had a razor-sharp wit, and Bull was full of it—up to his eyeballs and then some.

Bull eyed Dusty with frank suspicion. “Are you tellin' me to shut up?”

“Naw, I wouldn't say that to you,” Dusty drawled. “I'd tell you to shut
the
fuck
up if I wanted you to be quiet.”

“You shouldn't talk like that in front of a lady, son,” Bull said sternly. “Miss Angela prob'ly don't appreciate that kind of talk.”

Bull had as filthy a mouth on him as you might expect from a man who'd claimed to have been, at one time or another, a longshoreman, a sailor, and a roughneck on an oil rig. I also knew for a fact he was the one who took the guys to the more risqué places they'd been known to frequent, so I couldn't help giggling at such a comment coming from him. In his mind, apparently, the only word in his colorful vocabulary that was unsuitable for feminine ears was the f-word.

“It's no laughing matter,” Bull insisted, somewhat offended by my display of mirth. “Goddammit, he shouldn't say things like that in front of you.”

I was doubled over by that point and couldn't have spoken if I'd tried. I was nearly wheezing as it was.

Dusty grinned at me before aiming a knowing glance at Bull. “I think she wants you to shut the fuck up.”

By this time, Troy was laughing his ass off. Bull stomped off, muttering something about “Goddamned, motherf-ing assholes…” He could imply it, but he wouldn't say it aloud within my hearing even when he was angry. I had to give him credit for that much, although it made his word choice seem even more hilarious. Laughing hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, I keeled over onto Dusty's bunk.

“Aw, now, Bull,” Dusty yelled after him. “You went and made Miss Angela cry.” With a meaningful gaze, he added, albeit in a much quieter tone, “But you got her in my bed, so I'll forgive you.”

Troy was laughing hard enough he might not have heard that last comment. I almost wished he had, since it might have encouraged him to pee or get off the pot too. I hadn't gotten to play with my boy toy much in the past few days. If he didn't start making himself available pretty soon, he might find himself traded in for a different model.

Granted, Dusty had a broken leg, but I'm sure we could've figured out any number of mutually satisfying activities. On the other hand, sneaking into the house in the middle of the night with a cast on his leg would be difficult. All that thumping around might even awaken my deaf-as-a-post father.

For the time being, the more light-footed Troy would have to do. I couldn't help thinking how strange it was for me to suddenly have two men to choose between. Although I might not have admitted it to Dusty, I'd had my eye on him for ages. Never dreaming the interest could possibly be mutual, I'd kept my mouth shut and my hands to myself.

If only I'd known how he felt just a few days earlier.

Damn.

If Troy thought there was anything romantic going on between Dusty and me, he didn't let on, and he certainly didn't appear to be resentful in any way. As a matter of fact, he seemed downright grateful to Dusty for being able to shut Bull up.

“Thank you,” he said with a fervent sigh. “I've been trying to get him to be quiet and go away for three whole days.”

“Aw, it's not hard once you get the knack of it,” Dusty said. “He's pretty easy to get riled. After that, all you have to do is make him feel stupid.”

I secretly felt that Bull would retaliate someday by pounding Dusty into the dirt—he was a big man, after all. Dusty, although smaller and quicker as a rule, was now slowed down by his cast, making him a much easier target. Hopefully, Bull's sense of fair play would at least make him wait until Dusty was in better shape before he tried to break his other leg.

“Making him
sound
stupid isn't too hard,” Troy agreed. “He does that all by himself. It's the getting him to leave that I want to know how to do. Dunno how y'all stand it.”

“You'll get used to him after a while,” Dusty said. “He's not a bad sort, really. He just likes to talk big—and dirty.”

“And
constantly
,” Troy added. “Don't forget that.”

“I can usually tune him out, but sometimes it's impossible,” Dusty admitted. “When it comes to that, you have to run him off or go crazy trying not to kill him.”

“I'll remember that.” Troy glanced at me lying on Dusty's bunk and something flickered in his eyes, some emotion too quick for me to catch. When he spoke again, his attitude was carefully neutral. “I haven't seen you for a few days, ma'am. How've you been?”

“Oh, about the same,” I replied before rubbing my chin with a knuckle and biting my lip. I didn't know if he would remember enough of the code to respond, but apparently he did, for he smiled and scratched his ear.

“Angela says she's going to take us out on the town,” Dusty said. “Do you want to go?”

“Now wait a minute, Dusty,” I cautioned. “I said I'd round you all up and drop you off at a bar. You're making it sound like I'm going to treat you to dinner and a show.”

“Sounds good to me,” Troy commented. “I think I'd like to go out with you.”

Dusty glared at Troy. “She's not going out with
you
,” he snapped. “She's going out with all of us.”

I tried to keep my expression as innocent as I possibly could, but what Dusty said made me think of the gangbang in the bunkhouse thing again—although it would probably be more of a threesome since there weren't any others I'd care to mess with. I might have considered Rufus if such behavior wasn't so completely out of character for him. Joe Knight was another possibility, but since he never said much, I really didn't know him very well.

Joe was kinda homely, but I did like him, and he was about my age. Tall and lanky, he was probably hung to his knees, although I was fairly certain I'd never learn that from firsthand observation. Sure, I'd seen him cut up with the guys, but he always acted rather shy around me. I couldn't imagine why he would have been—I wasn't the least bit intimidating—but some men were like that around women.

I'd often wondered how men behaved when they were only in the company of other men. Any time I was around to hear them, they knew I was there, which possibly affected their behavior. The only way a woman would know such things would be to watch them through a window or film them with a hidden camera.

Men were such mysteries to me. They had drives and reactions I couldn't even begin to understand, despite having been surrounded by them for the greater part of my life. I'd heard it said that men think and women feel, but I wasn't sure I agreed with that. Men probably felt more than they ever let on, and I, for one, thought about stuff continuously. Perhaps I wasn't typical.

Dusty and Troy both appeared to have feelings, some of which happened to concern me. The thought of going out with both men while they engaged in a no-holds-barred competition for my affections sounded absolutely fabulous—although such an arrangement would undoubtedly be more trouble than it was worth. Having some of the others along to dilute the mix was probably advisable.

“That's right, Dusty. I did say I would take all of you. I just never actually said I'd be going
with
you.”

“True, but we'd have a lot more fun if you came along,” Dusty said. “That way we would all have at least one woman to dance with.”

“The idea was for you to meet
other
women,” I reminded him. “You already know
me
.”

If his lip-curling grin was any indication, Dusty wanted to get to know me better—a
lot
better. “Yes, I do. But I can't dance. I need you to keep me company while the other guys are out dancing with all those hot young cowgirls.”

He was using my own words against me, doing his damnedest to get this “outing” to go in a different direction than I'd ever intended. "Uh-huh. Sure. Everyone would think you were stuck hanging around with your mother. Not many hot chicks would wander over to sign your cast if they thought that, and they sure as hell wouldn't try to kiss you.”

“Hey, now, there's an idea,” Troy exclaimed. “We could tell the girls they have to kiss you before they can sign your cast.”

Having recently kissed Dusty myself, I was pretty sure he would be good bait for women whether that rule was mandatory or not. “That's one way to draw a crowd,” I agreed. “As cute as Dusty is, they'd be standing in line.”

Dusty actually blushed. “Aw, girls never want to kiss me. I haven't had a girlfriend since high school.”

“Which is why you need to get out and hunt for one,” I said. “All this hanging around the bunkhouse isn't getting you anywhere. What are you, twenty-five? Thirty?”

“Thirty-one,” he replied.

Older
than
I
thought. Hmm…

I tried not to get too excited over there being eleven years between us instead of fifteen or twenty. With a brisk nod, I continued. “All the more reason for you to get out there and mingle. You're wasting the best years of your life holed up here on this ranch. What were you planning to do? Wait until your blond curls turn gray and fall out to go looking for love? Believe me, now is the best time to do it.”

“Rufus wouldn't like it,” Dusty reminded me. “You know how he is about stuff like that.”

“Yes, but it's none of his business what you do with your time off. He can't very well keep you from dating someone.”

“Maybe not, but he has ways of making you follow his rules. Anytime I've done something he doesn't like, I wind up assigned to the jobs I like least. I'd hate to think what he'd have me doing if he ever caught me in the bunkhouse with a woman.”

“Yeah, well, don't feel like the Lone Ranger,” I said. “It's a wonder Dad ever let me go out on a date, let alone marry Cody. I'm sure Rufus would rather you guys were all monks like him—which, of course, you're not.”

Troy shot me a suggestive, sidelong glance. “And
you
are no nun.”

While Troy had every right to believe that, Dusty wasn't aware of the situation and apparently took it as a slur against my reputation.

“What the devil do you mean by that?” he demanded. “You're making it sound like she's some sort of tramp. You barely even know her.”

I really needed to have a talk with my boy toy. If Troy kept on making comments like that, he was going to get us both in trouble—and not only with Dad and Rufus. Considering what Dusty had said to me earlier, he wasn't going to take Troy and me being an item lying down.

I put up a placating hand. “Now, Dusty. I'm sure Troy didn't mean it that way, but he's right. I'm
not
a nun. Maybe I
should
go out and try to find myself a new man.”

Both men stared at me as though I'd sprouted wings, but neither of them could say a word because they both had secrets that involved me—secrets I was positive they intended to keep from each other. Their openmouthed expressions were so comical, I had to laugh.

Troy started to sputter a protest, but Dusty found his tongue a little quicker. “No way,” he exclaimed. “If you did that, we'd spend the whole time busting guys' heads for coming on to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I doubt it, Dusty. Besides, I thought you
wanted
me to go with you. And you wouldn't have to bust any heads because, truth be told, you two are the only ones—” Fortunately, I caught myself before finishing that sentence—especially since Rufus, Joe, and Calvin chose that moment to enter the bunkhouse.

Of the three men standing in the doorway, Rufus alone stood out among them. He'd been a hunk twenty years ago, and he still had that certain something about him that drew the eye. Too bad he was so lacking in personality.

Not lacking in expression, however. His brow was knit in a thunderous frown, and his eyes blazed with anger. Since I wasn't normally the recipient of his ire, this surprised me. Then I remembered I was not only alone in the bunkhouse with two of the men, I was also lying on Dusty's bunk.

I fought the urge to jump to my feet and offer an explanation, but, dammit, I was a grown woman and co-owner of the ranch. I could do as I damn well pleased. If Rufus didn't like it, well then, he could just quit. It wasn't as though he could send me to bed without supper, although reporting my transgressions to Dad would mean I'd have to hear about it for days on end. I was already wondering whether that small rebellion would be worth the price I'd have to pay when I remembered Rufus probably
could
make things harder on Troy and Dusty.

Searching for allies, I glanced first at Calvin, whose jaw had actually dropped, and then at Joe, who, for once in his life, was openly grinning at me instead of staring at the floor, as was his usual habit. That grin made him
so
much more attractive. Ordinarily he was so homely he was cute, but now, with a delighted smile on his face, he was almost handsome. I would definitely have to remember to include him in the bunkhouse gangbang—that is, if one ever actually took place.

Suddenly, where there had been no possibilities before, now there were three…

Rufus was the first to speak. His carefully worded, “Good afternoon, Miss Angela,” had a profound effect on every man in the room. Smiles disappeared only to be replaced with solemn, respectful demeanors.

I, on the other hand, was determined not to let him spoil my fun. Smiling, I waved a hand in greeting. “Hi, Rufus. You know, we really need to replace these mattresses. It's a wonder the men don't all have back trouble from sleeping on them.”

“Is that what you're doing here?” Rufus asked. “Testing the mattresses?”

His cautious questions made me giggle in a manner I knew he disliked. “You'll have to blame Bull for that. He made me laugh so hard I fell over on the bed. As for why I was here in the first place, I thought maybe Dusty could use some company.”

After a quick glance in Dusty's direction caught his deer-in-the-headlights expression, I deemed it best to retract that statement. I didn't want Rufus to be mad at anyone but me.

I giggled again, doing my best to sound annoying. “I'm kidding, Rufus. I was out here checking the supplies when they came in.”

The foreman's frown diminished, but the glint in his eyes didn't fade completely. “And what did Bull say that was so funny?”

“I think you had to be there,” I replied. “It loses something in the retelling.”

“I see.”

I knew I hadn't completely allayed his suspicions, but harping on it would make my story even less convincing. Rubbing a nonexistent backache, I got to my feet with a groan, leaving him to draw his own conclusions. Either way, a change of subject was definitely in order. “So, did you get all the fencing done?”

“Not quite,” Rufus replied. “Two more days should see the job finished.”

I nodded. “Sounds good. I'll tell Dad. See you guys later.” With another wave, I headed for the door. I fought the urge to swat Joe on the buns as I went by, settling instead for a pat on his shoulder. “Keep smiling, Joe. It looks good on you.”

I left the bunkhouse without a backward glance. Rufus could think what he liked, but now that I was finally seeing the ranch hands in a different light, he would simply have to get over it. He wasn't my boss, nor was he my father, and I was sick and tired of being alone. The guys were lonely too. Even if I had to sneak them out of the bunkhouse to do it, they were going to have some fun—and so was I.

If Troy didn't show up in my bedroom that night, I was going to fire his ass as my boy toy or boyfriend or whatever he was. Dusty had flat-out told me he loved me, and life was much too short to be kept waiting forever.