Cowboy At Arms. Carla Cassidy
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“You don’t have to worry about me, Daisy. Besides, I didn’t ask her to jump into my bed or anything like that. I just asked her to have drinks at the Watering Hole with me,” Dusty replied.
“Whatever—you just make sure you treat her right. Like I said before, she deserves only the best.”
Minutes later Dusty was in his truck and headed back to the Holiday ranch. There was no question that he was eager to spend some time with Trisha away from her work. He’d been drawn to her for a long time. But he couldn’t help thinking about what Daisy had said, that Trisha was a good woman who deserved only the best.
You’re nothing but a sniveling punk.
The very sight of you makes me sick to my stomach.
You’ll never amount to anything.
The hurtful words exploded in Dusty’s head and he gripped the steering wheel more tightly as he battled to shove the deep, gravelly voice back into his past where it belonged.
It’s just drinks, he reminded himself. He certainly hadn’t proclaimed his undying love for Trisha. He didn’t know what his intentions were toward the attractive woman. He didn’t know her well enough yet.
The truth of the matter was that he didn’t know if he was strong enough, smart enough or good enough to be with a woman like Trisha.
He reached up and touched his left ear, where he hadn’t heard a sound since he was thirteen and had climbed out of a bedroom window to escape the man he’d feared would eventually kill him.
Nobody, not even his best friend, Forest, knew that Dusty was deaf in one ear.
He knew with confidence that he was a good cowboy. Cass Holiday had seen to that. But Cass was dead now, and Dusty was left with the sinking feeling that he really wasn’t good enough for any woman.
* * *
It was just after ten o’clock when Trisha got into her car and headed to the Bitterroot Motel, where she and her son had been living for a little over two and a half years.
As she drove the short distance, her thoughts were filled with the cowboy who had asked her to have drinks with him.
There was no question that she was physically attracted to Dusty Crawford. He had hair the color of sun-kissed wheat and eyes the hue of a cobalt bottle. Deep dimples flashed charmingly with his smiles that warmed her as no other man’s had in a very long time.
They’d chatted often enough at the café that she knew she also liked his sunny disposition and easygoing attitude. Despite their interactions at her workplace, she only knew him superficially, and an excitement she hadn’t felt in a very long time fluttered inside her at the thought of finally getting to know him better.
Is it safe?
Has enough time passed?
The troubling questions flew into her head unbidden and sent a new tension churning in the pit of her stomach. Surely after a little over three long years she was finally safe here and didn’t have to worry about her past reaching out to torture her or anyone else ever again. Surely it was finally safe for her to believe that a happy future was possible for her and her son.
Any disturbing thoughts she might have momentarily entertained disappeared as she pulled up in front of unit 4 at the motel. The units were small but also had full kitchenettes, and the weekly rent was low enough that between her wages and her tips she’d been able to sock away some savings.
Still, she knew it was past time to make a move. It wasn’t right to be raising a three-year-old little boy in the confines of a motel room. She was hoping that in the next couple of weeks or so she would find a small house to rent, a house where Cooper could play in the yard and have his very own room.
With thoughts of her son filling her heart, she left her car and hurried toward the motel room door. She unlocked and opened it to see Juanita in the chair next to the bed where Cooper slept soundly. Juanita closed the tabloid she’d been reading and got out of the chair.
She joined Trisha at the door. “As usual he was a good boy today,” she said softly. “We played outside on the swing set and then spent the hot hours of the afternoon playing games and watching movies inside. He ate a good dinner and then took a bath before he went to bed.”
“Thanks, Juanita. I was wondering if maybe tomorrow night you could stay a little later than usual. Maybe until around midnight?”
Juanita’s broad face wreathed in a smile and one of her thick dark eyebrows danced upward. “Does Cinderella have a ball to attend?”
Trisha bit back a laugh. “No, nothing quite as elegant as that...just drinks with a cowboy.”
“And who is this lucky cowboy?”
“Dusty Crawford from the Holiday ranch.”
Juanita quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Something evil walked on that land.”
Trisha knew she was referring to the seven skeletons that had been found on the property...skeletons who had once been young men who had been murdered over a decade ago.
“Hopefully, Chief of Police Bowie will find out who was responsible for that evil,” Trisha replied.
Juanita nodded soberly and then smiled once again. “Staying late tomorrow night is no problem. It’s about time you did something for yourself.”
“Thanks, Juanita. I don’t know what I would do without you. Now, go home and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”
Trisha watched from the doorway as the older woman got into her car and then left the motel parking lot. Juanita Gomez had been a godsend since Trisha had begun working at the café.
The older Hispanic woman had lost her husband five years before to a heart attack, and with all of her children grown and living in different towns, Juanita had suffered from empty-nest and had wanted a babysitting job.
She was a kind, loving person and Trisha was grateful to have her taking care of her son. She closed and locked the motel room door and then gazed at the little boy in the king-size bed.
Cooper’s white-blond hair was in boyish disarray, reminding her that he was way overdue for a haircut. A small smile curved his lips, as if his dreams were good ones. She hoped he always had wonderful dreams. He was her heart and soul and she would do anything necessary to keep him happy and safe.
She went into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes and threw them into a hamper. It took her a few minutes to take a quick shower and then change into a clean nightshirt.
It was only when she was in bed in the dark room that her thoughts once again filled with Dusty Crawford. During her time working as a waitress, plenty of men had asked her out and she’d always declined the offers.
But as much as Cooper filled her life, over the past couple of months she’d found herself hungering for something more. Dusty had always created a little sizzle of electricity in her.
Was he the right