Cowboy At Arms
Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author Carla Cassidy
“Solid storytelling and sympathetic, genuine characters will draw readers in from the start … this is one amazing read.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Real Cowboy
“Carla Cassidy has made this an extremely hard book to put down. The pages just flew past! A very talented and colorful author!”
—Fresh Fiction on Mercenary’s Perfect Mission
“Cassidy delivers with a one-two punch of intriguing suspense and tantalizing romance. A sure bet, this romantic read will have readers rooting for a reunion.”
—RT Book Reviews on Scene of the Crime: Baton Rouge
“[An] action-packed romantic suspense starring an amazing female and her deceiving beloved.”
—The Best Reviews on Deceived
“[A] taut, fast-paced romantic thriller … romance shines.”
—Publishers Weekly
Cowboy at Arms
Carla Cassidy
www.millsandboon.co.uk
CARLA CASSIDY is a New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred books for Mills & Boon. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
Contents
Cover
Praise
Title Page
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
Chapter 1
Man up, Dusty Crawford commanded himself as he stared at the front door of the Bitterroot Café. It was almost nine o’clock on Friday night and the summer sun just barely skimmed the horizon in its downward descent.
As darkness slowly fell, the interior of the brightly lit café became more visible. He’d waited to arrive until late enough in the day that the dinner hour would be over and the popular eatery would be less crowded.
He’d wrestled stubborn cattle and faced more than one marauding cougar over the years, and yet the thought of the beautiful blonde waitress inside the café had him nearly shaking in his boots.
He turned his head at the sound of several doors slamming nearby. He narrowed his gaze as he watched three cowboys amble from the parking lot toward the café’s front door.
Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Shep Harmon all worked on the ranch next to the Holiday spread where Dusty had worked and lived since he was fourteen years old. For the most part all of the men who were part of the Humes ranch were mean and liked nothing more than to stir up trouble wherever they went.
The Humes men were suspected of all kinds of mischief on the Holiday land, including tearing down fencing, setting nuisance fires and the occasional cattle disappearance.
As they went inside the building, Dusty shoved thoughts of them out of his head. He needed to focus on the reason he was here. After a little over six months of small talk whenever he ate at the café, tonight he was here to ask Trisha Cahill out on an official date.
He took off his black cowboy hat and set it on the passenger seat and then raked his hand through his hair. Drawing a deep breath for courage, he finally left his pickup truck and headed for the café door.
When he stepped inside, his nose was immediately assailed by the scents of fried potatoes and onions, a variety of simmering meats and a faint whiff of apples and cinnamon.
Even though it was late for dinner there was still a crowd at the tables and booths. This wasn’t just a place to eat in the small town of Bitterroot, Oklahoma; it was also a place where folks came to visit with neighbors and catch up with the local gossip.
His gaze instantly found Trisha, who was taking an order from Steve Kaufman, a widower who lived alone and spent most evenings in the café sipping coffee and reading a book.
Dusty headed toward an empty booth that he knew was in Trisha’s area and sat. He grabbed one of the plastic menus propped up between squeeze bottles of mustard and ketchup. He opened it even though he’d long ago memorized everything that the café had to offer.
Nerves jangled in the pit of his stomach. You’re being ridiculous, he told himself. The worst thing that could happen was that Trisha would tell him in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in going out with him. He could live with that. He’d certainly survived much worse in his twenty-nine years on earth.
He closed the menu and returned it to its place and then looked up and smiled as Trisha approached his booth. “Hi, Dusty. You’re a little later than usual tonight,” she said. Her eyes were the color of a clear summer sky and filled with her casual friendliness.
“Yeah, I decided to skip Daisy’s Friday night meat-loaf dinner and I ate at the ranch instead,” he replied. Her pale blond hair was pulled up into a slightly messy ponytail, and Dusty’s fingers itched with the desire to release all of it from its confinement.
“So, what can I get for you?” she asked.
“I’ll take one of Daisy’s apple dumplings and a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll have it to you in just a jiffy.” She turned and left his booth.
Dusty released a pent-up sigh. He’d ask her out after he’d eaten his dessert. Maybe by then a lot of the people would be gone and she’d be less busy.
Within minutes Dusty had his dumpling and coffee and Trisha had hurried to another table after serving him. As he ate he watched her taking care of her customers. She had a cheerful smile for everyone and she looked totally hot in her slim-fitting blue jeans and the red T-shirt with gold lettering advertising the café.
Despite the fact that he’d been interested in her for months, he really knew very little about her other than she lived in the Bitterroot Motel and had a young son and she was one of the most popular, well-liked waitresses at the café.
By the time he’d finished his dumpling and was nursing a second cup of coffee, the crowd had finally begun to thin out. He motioned to Trisha and she hurried over to his booth. “Ready for your check?” she asked.
“Actually, I was wondering if you had a minute to sit with me,” he replied.
She looked around at the diners remaining in her area and then nodded. “Sure, I can take a few minutes.”
It wasn’t uncommon for her to occasionally sit and visit with Dusty when things were slow in the café. She slid into the opposite side of the booth and smiled at him once again. “It feels good to take a little break and get off my feet. We’ve been fairly swamped since about five o’clock. It seemed like everyone in the entire town decided to eat out tonight. Speaking of people in town, I heard through the grapevine that Forest Stevens moved away.”
“Yeah, he found true love with Dr. Patience Forbes, the forensic anthropologist who was at the ranch examining the bones in the pit that were found. He moved with her to Oklahoma City a week ago.” And every day of the past week, Dusty had missed the big cowboy who had been his best friend since he was a scrawny, homeless thirteen-year-old.
“Good for him,” Trisha replied. “I hope they both get their happily-ever-after.”
Ask her, a little voice niggled in the back of his brain. For the first time in your life, step up and go after what you really want. “Trisha, I was wondering if maybe tonight after your shift you’d like to go to the Watering Hole and have a drink with me?”
Her eyes widened and darkened and she quickly looked down at the tabletop. Dusty’s heart sank into his boots. He should have known better. Why would a gorgeous woman like her be interested in a cowboy like him? Besides, he knew that plenty of other men had asked her out and she’d rejected all of them. Why would he be any different?
She was silent for a long moment and just when Dusty was about to tell her never mind, to forget that he’d even asked, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Dusty. I couldn’t possibly go tonight. My son is with his babysitter and she’s expecting me home right after work.”
“No problem,” he replied hurriedly. He was just grateful that he’d already eaten his dumpling and could now make a quick escape.
“Maybe I could work something out with her for tomorrow night after work.” Her cheeks flushed a charming pink. “I mean, if you’d still want to.”
“Sure, I’d love to,” he said as his heart once again lifted buoyantly in his chest.
“I work until ten tomorrow night. I could meet you at the Watering Hole around ten thirty or so.”
He sat up straighter and smiled at her. “That sounds perfect. Why don’t I give you my cell phone number in case it doesn’t work out with your babysitter?” He grabbed a napkin and then used her pen to write down his number, and she wrote hers down for him, as well.
She scooted out of the booth, took the napkin with his number from him and stuffed it into her back pocket. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.” She tore his tab off her ordering pad, slid it onto the table and then scurried away from the booth.
A wave of excitement swept through him. He’d done it. He’d not only gotten up the nerve to finally ask her out, but she’d actually accepted. He got up and walked to the cash register, where the owner of the café, Daisy Martin, greeted him with a wide grin.
“I saw you passing notes with Trisha. Are you trying to make time with one of my best waitresses?” she asked.
“Definitely trying to,” he replied. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill.
Daisy’s smile fell and she glanced over to Trisha, who was pouring coffee for the three men from the Humes ranch. She looked back at Dusty. “I hope you have the right intentions where she’s concerned. She’s a good woman and she deserves only the very best.”
“Daisy, I didn’t know you were such a protective mama bear,” he said teasingly as he tucked his change into his back pocket.
Daisy swept a strand of her flaming red hair behind an ear. “I am when it comes to the girls who work for me. They’re closer to me than most of my family.”
“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 man for the rest of her life? She couldn’t know for sure. What she did know was that he was the right man at the right time to ask her out tonight.
Is it safe?
The three words thundered in her brain. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shoved away the fear that tried to take hold of her.
She’d lived in fear for the past three years. Surely she could finally let go of it now. Surely after all this time, after all the measures she’d taken, she wasn’t in any danger anymore.
With a tentative hope for a brighter future, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. She awakened to little hands on either side of her face. “Mommy, it’s time to wake up.”
Trisha opened her eyes and gazed into the beautiful blue eyes of her son. “Says who?”
“Says Cooper!” he exclaimed.
“Cooper who?”
“Cooper Cahill.”
It was a silly conversation they had almost every morning when he awakened her. She sat up and grinned at him. “And the tickle bug is about to attack Cooper Cahill.” She proceeded to tickle Cooper until his childish giggles filled the room where the early morning sun drifted in around the edges of the gold curtains at the window.
Minutes later the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air and Cooper sat at the small kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. Between bites he told her everything he wanted to do before she went to work at two that afternoon.
“We can swing and then we can play cowboys. You can be a bad guy and I’ll be a good guy.”
“Why do I always have to be the bad guy?” Trisha asked in amusement.
“’Cause I’m always a good guy,” Cooper replied as if that made perfect sense.
Thankfully, the only bad guys Cooper knew were little action-figure cowboys he deemed to be bank robbers and cattle rustlers. She could only hope that he would never know the kind of true evil she’d once experienced.
The morning passed far too quickly as she and Cooper played outside on the motel playground and then moved inside when the heat of the day began to build. As usual when they played cowboys, his good guys put her bad guys in jail.
At one thirty Trisha donned a clean pair of jeans and the red T-shirt that identified her as one of the waitresses at the Bitterroot Café. She then stared into the closet at her meager wardrobe.
New clothes for herself hadn’t been a priority over the past couple of years. She joyously bought for Cooper, but she’d rather tuck any spare money away in her savings fund to get them out of this motel room than buy anything new for herself.
She finally pulled out a royal blue sleeveless cotton blouse to change into later that night for her date with Dusty. She knew the blouse fit her well and brought out the color of her eyes.
She’d managed to get through the morning and early afternoon without thinking about meeting him after work for drinks, but now doubts began to plague her.
The doubts continued and followed her into work. Maybe she should just call him and cancel, she thought as she took dinner orders. What had sounded like a nice idea the night before now filled her with a nervous energy.
You deserve to spend some time with a handsome man who makes your heart flutter more than a little bit, she told herself firmly. Even Juanita said you deserved it. It’s only one night...a couple of hours at the most.
Luckily, on a Saturday night, the dinner rush was busy enough that she didn’t have much time to focus on her warring thoughts where meeting Dusty was concerned.
It was just after six o’clock when Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Lloyd Green walked through the door and grabbed a booth in her section. Trisha swallowed a sigh.
She hated waiting on these men, who were not only rude and often lewd, but also pigs who didn’t tip worth a darn. Greg wasn’t too bad, but both Zeke and Lloyd made her skin crawl.
She gripped her order pad tightly in her hand and walked over to the booth were they were seated. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you all?”
“Trisha, honey, if you were on the menu I’d order you up in a hot minute,” Zeke said, his dark eyes gliding over her from head to toe. “In fact, I’d make it a double order to go.”
Lloyd elbowed his younger buddy and offered Trisha an apologetic smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Trisha. You know he’s just a dumb knucklehead.”
Daisy ambled over to the booth and smiled at Trisha. “Trisha, why don’t you go ahead and take your break now? I’ll take care of these rascals.”
With a sigh of relief, Trisha headed for the break room in the back of the café. Once inside the small room, she sat in one of the chairs and stared at her blouse hanging on a nearby coatrack. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and gazed down at the keypad.
She’d already put Dusty’s phone number into her list of contacts. All she had to do was punch a couple of buttons and she would be connected to him.
Desire battled with the old fear that had become so familiar. Was she a complete fool to believe that she could really have a normal life? A life that included going on dates with handsome cowboys and hopefully someday finding a special man who would love not only her but also her son?
She slid her phone back into her pocket. She wasn’t going to cancel meeting Dusty. She had no idea if he might be that special man, but she’d never know if she didn’t take a chance.
Is it safe?
She could only hope that she was truly free of the evil of her past.
Chapter 2
Dusty stood in front of the mirror above the sink in his tiny bathroom and gazed at his reflection. Hair neatly combed...check. Light blue dress shirt buttoned and tucked into his jeans...check.
He grabbed a bottle of spicy cologne and splashed it on both sides of his neck and beneath his jaw and then left the bathroom. He was ready ridiculously early. It was only a few minutes before nine.
Nerves bounced around in the pit of his stomach. He’d drive himself crazy if he cooled his heels alone in the small bunk room he called home.
He stepped out the door and gazed down the length of the motel-like units where the cowboys who worked on the Holiday ranch lived. None of the other men were anywhere in sight.