Chapter 6
Somewhere in the middle of the night the power went out. I woke up at 6:30, cold and shivering. I checked the thermostat in my room and became slightly alarmed when I couldn’t get it or the light switches to work. I took a deep breath, supremely grateful I had showered before bed the night before.
After dressing in three layers of clothes, I stepped out into the hallway and was met by my grandma in her nightgown stepping out of her room.
“How’s Grandpa?” I whispered. “I heard him coughing most of the night. Did he get any sleep?”
She looked guilty. “I drugged him.”
“What?”
“The stubborn lout was coughing most of the night. Neither of us were getting a lick of sleep. So about 2 am I mixed him a glass of juice with an extra-strength Tylenol PM mixed inside. We both finally got some sleep after that.”
“You little vixen.”
“Don’t say a word.”
I laughed. “Good for you. Try to keep him asleep, if you can. Dusty’s still here, and he and I are planning on taking care of everything outside. I’m heading out to meet him now.”
Her pale cheeks grew a spot of color on them. “Bless you, sweet kids. I’m going to start a fire in our bedroom, put my face on, and then I’ll get working on your breakfast.” She stopped short. “Oh no. The power is out. Well, I guess it might be cereal for breakfast this morning.”
“Grandma, this body runs off of cereal. It sounds great.”
“I know you live off cereal, that’s why I was excited to make something more substantial for you, dear.”
“Next time. I’ll go down and grab some wood for your fire.”
I skipped downstairs to grab an armful of firewood before meeting Grandma back in her room. We worked together to quickly build a fire without waking Grandpa. She followed me out into the hallway.
“So how was your night with Dusty?”
I paused on the stairs and turned back to look at her gleefully expectant face. “Oh, is that his name?”
“Lou. Fess up, I’ve been dying all night stuck upstairs.”
“He made sweet, sweet love to me, Grandma.”
Her mouth gaped open while I laughed. “It’s been fun catching up with him. I fed him gross pancakes and bacon.”
Grandma’s face fell, but I got the heck out of there. Decidedly not mentioning that we also laughed a lot, he touched my leg four times, I definitely came on to him once, and he ate the gross pancakes. To make me feel better. Some things are better left under lock and key.
I raced back downstairs to start another fire in the living room fireplace. I grabbed an armful of Grandpa’s chopped firewood neatly stacked under the window and began arranging a teepee formation with the wood, but my jittery hands refused to cooperate. The fifth time the pile of wood came crashing down, I cursed, left it in a pile, stuffed the cracks full of newspaper, poured lighter fluid over the whole thing, and lit it up. A Boy Scout would probably call that cheating, but I didn’t care. There was something so satisfying about starting a fire on my own—even if I had cheated a bit. I stood back and watched the flames begin to spread along the length of the wood, warming my hands and toes as best as I could. Technology was amazing, but I never got this amount of satisfaction starting a gas fire in my apartment. Once sufficiently warmed, I strode toward the back door. I had adorned myself with insulated coveralls, my hoodie, work coat, and waterproof gloves and waddled my way to the door, peering out the windowpane to the side, gaining the courage to open the door to the dark, wet, and cold.
The sun was not yet up this early in January, but even if it were, I doubted the light would be much better. Dark gray clouds had settled low across the valley. It didn’t look like Dusty was out yet. I saw no tracks, but I did see drifts of snow piled everywhere. I figured Dusty would wait until the first light, so I had planned to be out just before that. Which meant it was still dark out, but I couldn’t stomach the idea of him doing so much for me. For us.
The light breeze ruffled at the patch of hair that had come loose as I exited the house, which had been no small feat with the mountain of snow piled high against the doorway. A crack of light from the sunrise burst through the thick fog of gray clouds. The snow had stopped. The glistening white that covered the entire valley combined with the fresh, crisp air and the crunch at my feet, felt almost peaceful. But according to the weatherman, this was quite literally the calm before the storm. I followed the sounds of hungry bellows, trudging through the snow toward their corral and completely biffing it once in the snow.
In the past few years, in my grandpa’s older age, he sold off most of his beef cows. He’d never retire officially, most ranchers don’t have it in them, but at the strong suggestion from my grandma, he had decided to downsize. Or switch from quantity to quality, as he liked to say. He was growing his herd with a newer stock of cows called Piedmontese. They were white, muscular, and looked different than a regular black and white cow, but their meat was top quality and low in fat. But for now, this small corral of strange-looking white cows was all that was left of the old ranch. Sad for my nostalgia, but wonderful for how much less work I had to put into these cows on a cold day.
“What are you doing sneaking out here so early?”
My heart leapt in my throat as Dusty’s voice descended upon me. I turned around. “Strawing cows.”
He was walking toward me, dressed in his winter clothes, but he had that dang cowboy hat on. Slung low across his forehead. Which was fine. Good for him. I could be normal with cowboy Josh Duhamel. Totally normal.
“I told you I’d take care of this. As thanks for letting me stay.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I made you disgusting pancakes last night.”
He laughed as he stopped in front of me. “I’ve had plenty worse.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “What?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Actually nothing comes to mind. You’re right.” He turned back as if to go. “I’ll just head back to my room and put my feet up while you take care of things out here.”
I grabbed his arm, smiling, all the while wondering who I was and why it was so easy to touch this man’s arm. Maybe it was because we were close once, that he felt like family? “Alright, maybe I’ll let you stay. The pancakes weren’t that bad.”
“Is Bob coming out?”
“My grandma drugged his juice with Tylenol PM last night. He’s still asleep. Which he’ll be furious about.”
He looked impressed. “Way to go, Susan. Our number one goal, for you and me, is to keep him in the house.”
“Agreed.”
Dusty accessed the snowdrifts blocking the manger for a moment. “Did your power go off in the house?”
“Yes.” My eyes widened. “Did yours?” In all my work to warm up and get the fires started this morning, I hadn’t even thought about the power going off for Dusty. There was no fireplace in the motel.
“Yeah.” He jumped up onto a rung of the gate to get a better vantage point in the corral. I was still mentally smacking myself at my lack of concern for him.
“Were you okay? Did you stay warm enough?”
His eyes met mine, unconcerned. “Yeah. I just threw on the extra blanket. Listen, I’m worried that the water pipes froze.” He motioned toward the water trough covered in two feet of snow. “I had just a tiny trickle of water this morning before it shut off completely. Did you have water pressure in the house?”
I thought back to my morning. The last time I used the restroom was at 4 am. When I washed my hands there had been a burst of water before a gurgle and then nothing. I hadn’t given it much thought because…ahem…4 am. “No. I don’t think there’s water pressure.”
He nodded, rubbing his hands together briskly before cupping them to his mouth and blowing on them. He appeared to be deep in thought, mulling over something.
I looked around. There was water in the house, but ten gallons of water wouldn’t last a day with the number of cows we had.
“Does your grandpa still have that tractor in the shed?”
I turned and eyed him, curiously. “Yes.”
“Any idea if it runs?”
“No.”
“Let’s go find out.” He jumped down from the fence. He motioned to the snowdrifts along the manger, the place where the cows stick their heads out of the corral and eat. The drifts were mountainous and would prevent us from feeding the cows as they were. “First, we have to move the snow here so we can get the cows fed. They’ll have enough water left in the tank to get them through until lunchtime. So first thing, I think we should get your grandpa’s tractor running and try to push the snow off the manger. Then we can feed them.”
“What about the water?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. Any ideas?”
I looked around at the mountainous piles of snow glistening in front of us. “If the cows would just eat the snow, our problem would be over.”
“They’re not the brightest crayons in the box,” Dusty agreed. “But they do taste good, so maybe they’re worth all the extra work.”
“Mmm, now all I can think about is a hamburger.”
“With bacon.”
“And a big slab of pepper jack cheese.”
“You better stop that dirty talk.” Dusty grinned and rubbed his hands together, warding off the chill. “Let’s figure out water.”
My first thought was the creek up the road we used to play in as kids. Memories of a kiss flashed through my mind as I debated mentioning the creek, but I did anyway. For the cows. “How about the creek? It’s only about half a mile away. We could chip away the ice and fill up buckets there? Maybe take the tractor? Or the snowmobile.”
Dusty’s eyes lit up. “He’s got a snowmobile? Why didn’t you say so? That’s our whole afternoon, right there.”
My eyes narrowed. “To get water for the cows, right?”
“Of course.”
I laughed. “Alright. It’s a date then.”
Turning away from his gaze, I mentally kicked myself. What was happening to me? I didn’t flirt. And if I did, I didn’t do it well. But here it was, spewing out of me like a faucet. Or vomit. Couldn’t tell which yet.
Dusty went to go start the tractor to begin pushing the snow off of the manger. Not wanting to sit around with nothing to do, I trudged through the snow with a hammer and shovel to clear the snow off the water trough and bust up the ice. The cows surrounded me, pressuring me to hurry and greedily snorting while they waited for me to let them drink. Dusty was back with the tractor pushing snow by the time I had finished removing enough ice for the cows to drink. I stood back and watched them for a moment. They were completely dependent on Dusty and me for survival. I figured there were tens of thousands of dollars worth of cattle in these pens, but I found I wasn’t nervous. Which was not typically who I was, and I knew it had a lot to do with the calm capabilities of the man in the tractor.
Dusty finished clearing the manger, and I opened the gate for him so he could open a path in the thigh-deep drifts of snow in the actual corral for the cows to come and eat. Once over the threshold, he stopped the tractor and stuck his head out.
“Hey, Lou.”
“Yeah?”
“You know how to drive this thing?”
I shrugged. “It’s been a while.”
“You want a refresher lesson? Just in case?”
“Probably a good idea.” It technically had been a while, although I knew I could drive that thing in my sleep. But this...sounded interesting.
He nodded. “How about you climb in with me and I’ll show you the ropes, just in case I’m not here and you need to do this again.”
I agreed and kept my smile and pounding heart hidden away from sight as I made my way to the tractor.
Even though I was comfortable with the equipment, the thought of him not being here made my stomach tighten in dread. I wanted to curse the storm while at the same time be thankful for it in my prayers. I didn’t feel like dissecting my reasons why. I walked toward him with my tongue hanging out and my tail wagging.
As I climbed the ladder, I was the epitome of cool. Calm. Collected. He held the door open for me and motioned for me to sit on his lap.
My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
He looked around the tight, tiny cab meant for one small grandpa. “I don’t think there’s much choice.”
I couldn’t. Right? That was so...forward. And yet...so much more comfortable. I waffled awkwardly, my eyes flickering to him and his lap and the side of the cab I could scrunch onto before going back to him. “I could probably just sit on the side.”
My voice tapered off. He heard my hesitation and pounced, eyes dancing in amusement.
“I promise I’m only coming on to you a little.” His low voice was so full of mischief I couldn’t help but laugh. I bit my lip wondering why I was always trying to reign in the emotions Dusty was constantly making me feel. When he laughed his whole face lit up, making him go from the man in front of me to the childhood boy I had known. It was contagious, making him seem much more familiar to me than he probably was. But...when in Wyoming, I guess.
“Well, if it’s only a little.” My words were bold, but my heart drummed in my chest as I took the hand he offered, drawing me closer to his body, as I gingerly settled onto his lap.
I could only sit on one of his legs because the space between the wheel and the seat was laughably small. So then I felt super self-conscious about the dead leg I would no doubt be giving him. Though I had a normal frame for my size, the last time someone tried to pick me up, the word ‘solid’ is what they used.
A woman never forgets.
Once I was settled, I leaned back into a hard chest. His left arm wrapped around the side of me, gripping the wheel, while his right hand worked the controls for the bucket, pushing the snow.
“All good?” His low murmur in my ear raised the hairs on my arm.
“Yeah,” I peeped, all ease and nonchalance.
Then he proceeded to show me how to start the tractor, what all the controls did, and then placed my hand over the bucket scooper control and his own hand on top of it, “guiding me.”
Good gracious.
The heat from his hand zinged throughout my body as he led me through the motions of lifting the bucket up and down as well as pushing the snow. I would have been bored and rolling my eyes through the whole thing, but he was being so sweet and not at all condescending, so I had to give him points. And obviously…my hand. But I was still concerned I was crushing him with my dead weight.
“How’s your leg?”
“Huh?”
“Is it dead? I’ve been told I’m solid.”
Dusty laughed, his low rumble tickling my ear. “Whoever told you that was a wuss.”
“He was kind of a wuss, now that you mention it.”
“Don’t worry, I’m doing just fine. I’ve only been better one other time.” He adjusted me slightly, pulling me back against him, his hands lingering on my waist a bit longer than necessary. Or that could have been my active imagination. It was getting hard to tell.
“What time was that?”
“About that kiss…”
“Dusty Bennett!” I slapped his thigh in secret delight.
He only chuckled. “Alright, you try now.” He pointed out the window in front of us. He had scooted most of the snow off the manger, except for a small patch toward the end of the line.
Showtime.
It was difficult acting like I needed a refresher course. It was like riding a bike. My hands knew exactly where they should go. I attempted to make myself bumble around, but only so he would place his hand on top of mine to help. Did I feel bad about deceiving him? Maybe a little, but then he would shift his weight and adjust his hand and pull me closer, and I would get a distinct impression that he was enjoying this ride as much as I was. I’d hate to disappoint him.
All too soon my lesson came to an end. I hopped out of the tractor and opened the gate, blocking the cows from escaping while he moved the tractor out of the corral. We moved hay bales into the newly cleaned mangers, and the cows were pushing and shoving each other to get to the food. I tried to think of the last time I had done any physical labor outdoors. Growing up, as a kid working the farm in my minuscule way, it had always been the land that called to me, not so much the actual labor. Now as a grown woman living in an apartment and working inside all day, I was surprised how good I felt out here. It was as if my limbs were made for movement much more natural than cardio at the gym. The cold breeze nipped at my nose but filled my lungs with clean air that filled the cracks deep inside my soul. I bent and picked up a large chunk of hay to throw in the manger, shoveled snow, busted up ice, and worked more muscles in my body than I remembered having, and it all felt wonderful. I had never appreciated the feeling as a teenager, but now I was beginning to crave it. To clarify—I was craving the work. Not the man beside me. We finished with frozen fingers and red cheeks.
“Are you hungry?” I asked him.
“Starved. Does this motel have a bed and breakfast?”
“You’re in luck. We have a great selection of gluten-free options.” We began a comfortable walk back toward the house.
“Now that’s the kind of food a man wakes up early for.”
“I should also mention that with no electricity we can’t heat anything up.”
“Ah.”
“And no running water may also be a problem.”
“Please tell me you saved a few of those pancakes from last night.”
“I thought we could use them as hockey pucks later if we get bored.”
The sudden switch from cold to warm as I entered the house caused my glasses to fog. The roaring fire inside had slowed to soft flames, but the entire house felt warm and inviting after the frigid morning. Or perhaps the warmth was Grandma’s delighted gaze as she watched the two of us coming in together, her hands clasped over her mouth. I said a prayer right then and there that she would be able to hold her tongue and not humiliate me.
“The Lord must have heard my prayer to send us a storm so I could see a young handsome cowboy around here again. Lucy must have been praying too.”
I closed my eyes and imagined a large hole I could fling myself.
Dusty laughed, shrugging out of his coat before edging around me. As he passed by me I felt two light squeezes on my upper arm before he stepped around me to greet Grandma.
“Well, if it isn’t the drug dealer herself.”
Grandma slapped his shoulder before pulling him in for a hug. “You stop that talk! Bob’ll be down any minute and he can’t find out.”
“I could be bribed for my silence.”
“Oh, you naughty boy. You know I’ll make you a chocolate pie the second the electricity comes back on. I could never resist a handsome face.” She reached up and pinched his cheeks lightly.
“Just like your granddaughter.”
The two of them stood chatting, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak quite yet. Numbly, I sat on the wooden bench in the entryway to pull my boots off my feet. The spot on my arm sizzled from his touch, through the layers, as if I had been marked somehow. But why? It had been a pointed touch. He had given it for a reason. There was meaning behind it. As if he was telling me it was okay. I didn’t need to be worried about him thinking badly of me. I didn’t need to be embarrassed. It was probably my over-analyzing mind again. The one that always got me into trouble with men. The one that made me call them after a date to make sure they hadn’t taken some obscure comment the wrong way because my mind had rehashed something to the point that I couldn’t function until I made the call. The kind that asked for clarification when a man spoke vaguely about going out again sometime. The kind of analysis that never lets my mind rest. Never lets me just be me or get comfortable. But in that one second, Dusty let me know that he was here and that he was confident enough in himself and in me that I didn’t need to over-think or worry.
Or perhaps it was just a light squeeze to get me to move out of his way.
Ugh.
Even my mind talking me OUT of my head was an over-analyzer. The talking and hugging stilled and I realized Dusty and my grandma were both looking at me expectantly.
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re dripping wet, dear. Why don’t you dry off and I’ll pour y”all a bowl of cereal.” She motioned Dusty to follow her toward the kitchen. “It’s just about killing me to not be able to cook you up a fancy spread. With all your hard work this morning.”
“I’m just Lucy’s assistant. She calls the shots. You got yourself a good girl out there,” I heard him say, obviously gaining more brownie points, even though it was a lie. Of course, he also called me a good girl like I was five.
I finished stripping out of my layers and made my way into the kitchen. If anything I at least needed to be aware of what Grandma was saying about me.
“How’s Grandpa doing?” I asked.
“I’m doin’ just fine!” a hoarse voice yelled from the stairway. We all glanced over to see Grandpa in his worn out work jeans, buttoning his long-sleeved plaid work shirt, a white tank top underneath it all. By all accounts, it looked as if he was planning to head outside to work. The stairs creaked as he thundered his way down them. “I don’t need you all coddling me. And if I hear you put something in my drink to make me sleep, Susan, I swear I’ll paddle yer behind. Nine in the morning? I have never slept that long in my life.” He was interrupted by his lungs, gasping and coughing as he descended the last step.
Dusty and I exchanged a glance.
Grandma made her way toward him. “Pish, Bob. You needed the sleep and you will stop being a stubborn mule in front of our guests. Dusty and Lou have already taken care of the chores this morning, so you can just march your stubborn fanny back up those stairs because your cough is getting worse.”
Grandpa’s ears perked up and his eyes shot around the room, taking in the cowboy sitting on a barstool nursing back a glass of cold milk. “Is that Dusty Bennett?” He looked out the window theatrically as he said, “Well there is a storm outside, so I guess it’s about time you showed up.”
Dusty grinned and stood up, walking over to Grandpa, shaking his hand affectionately. “Howdy, Bob. It was almost déjà vu last night with the road closure and me being close to your place. I scared the daylights out of Lucy, but she took pity on me and gave me a room.”
“He had to earn it though,” I piped in. “In exchange for working like a dog for us this morning, he could stay in the cold motel room and have some cereal with us.”
“You forgot pancakes.” He smiled at me.
“What’s left to do out there?” Grandpa pulled at his suspenders, looking toward the windows showing swirling snow.
“The cows have been fed. We strawed the corral,” Dusty said. “Lucy busted open the water trough. They should be good until tonight. The only thing we’re worried about is the water pipe being frozen. They’ve got enough to last until evening, but we were going to ride out this afternoon and haul in some water from the creek.”
Grandpa rubbed his chin thoughtfully, peering at us both. “I can do that.”
“Actually,” Dusty began, glancing at me, “Lucy wanted to show me a few places we used to play when we were kids. We were going to take the snowmobile and some empty buckets. So if you don’t mind…”
Grandpa stood watching us for a long while until a boisterous laugh broke free. Which turned into another coughing spell. Grandma brought him a glass of water, which he guzzled.
“Thank you, my dear.” Looking toward us, he smiled. “‘Getting water for the cows’ isn’t what we called it back in my day, but I get yer drift, Dust. I’ll allow you all to do my chores. I’ll be out there tomorrow morning though and don’t try to stop me.”
My stomach clenched at Grandpa’s insinuation but immediately relaxed when Dusty flicked his laughing eyes my way.
“I knew I could count on you, Bob.”
Breakfast passed by with soft chatter and four spoons clanking against four bowls of Cheerios. Grandpa had decided he might as well have a quick nap since he was off the hook today, and Grandma puttered around the kitchen, leaving Dusty and me alone at the table.
“So about that kiss.” Dusty’s voice was low, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.
My eyes widened and shot over to my grandma. She appeared not to have heard anything in the kitchen. My heart relaxed. If Grandma heard the word kiss she would be all over me like a bad rash. And something told me Dusty understood that.
“I’ve got some dirt on you too, don’t forget that.” I didn’t have any dirt, but I was sure I could call Julia and she could think of something I was forgetting. Mostly, I was being reminded of how much I had always loved being around Dusty Bennett.
He looked intrigued. “Really? Do tell.”
“I don’t know how long this storm will last. I’ll save it for another time.”
“That’s too bad.” He sighed, leaning back into his chair.
My grandma excused herself then—saying some nonsense about helping Grandpa get ‘settled’ and that she’d be down later. She did make sure to reiterate that we have fun…reconnecting.
My red face didn’t last for long.
“I will need to make sure I get my chocolate pie fix before I go.”
I raised my eyebrows. “My grandma will be all over that the second the power comes back on.”
“I think I’m more interested in seeing you make my pie.”
“You saw me with pancakes. A pie might kill you.”
“I either need the pie or the kiss story from you before I go. Preferably both.”
I sighed. “I hate to have guests leave disappointed.”
He laughed and motioned toward the TV. “We don’t have much else to pass our time today, how about we play for it? Do Bob and Susan still have the ping pong table downstairs?”
“Yes. But I need some clarification. What exactly are we playing for?” Knowing Dusty, playing for “it” could either be the chocolate pie or the kiss story, and I needed to be sure.
“You tell me what you think we’re playing for and I’ll tell you if you’re right.” The playful look on his face did something thrilling to my insides.
“This feels like a trap.”
“Not my problem.”
I pursed my lips. “I have never made a pie in my life. I’m not sure I should start now.”
“Great. We’ll start with the kiss.”
“No, we won’t. Pie only. What happens to you when I win?”
“I’ll make you a pie. And I should mention I’ve never made one before either.”
“Hmmm…in that case, since it might be horrible, can you do it shirtless? Maybe with a little chef’s hat on?”
It was a brazen comment for me, but I only said it to see if I could make him blush. And sure enough, red spots of color tinged his cheeks, and he seemed to have a hard time forming a response. Wow. Is this what having control of the conversation felt like? No wonder Dusty kept flirting with me, it felt amazing from this end.
“Cat got your tongue?” I asked, innocently.
“Alright, we’re playing for pie. If I win, you make it. If you win, I’ll make it. And we may or may not be shirtless.”
He held out his hand which I shook, tentatively, as his warm fingers engulfed mine.
“Deal, except for the part about me being shirtless.”