Chapter 12
The power came back on later that morning.
One minute the four of us were playing Rummy by natural light, our teasing and laughter the only sound; the next minute the lights and TV had turned on full blast, turning our cozy little haven into a bright, stark hospital, with how much dread it all brought me.
The mid morning local news update was on at that exact moment. “Highway 90 roads have been cleared and are now open. There are still plenty of plows out, so drive safe, but the worst of the storm appears to be over.”
My grandpa and Dusty immediately began a discussion, taking place over and around the news report. Words like leaving and hauling cattle and doctor’s appointments became unwelcome intrusions into my thoughts. How strange that something I had feared so heavily two days earlier was now the thing I dreaded letting go of. Our time spent tucked away from the pressing matters of the world would be ending soon. Today, in fact, if Dusty’s words rang true. I rubbed my hands briskly over my arms in an attempt to warm myself with the same glow of the room before reality descended upon us in the form of the bells and whistles of modern technology. A sudden chill pierced the once cozy air, which was ironic because the heater had also kicked on, blasting at the cold in corners and places the fire had been unable to heat. My grandparents stood up from the table while my grandma flipped through the phone book.
“If Dr. Johnson doesn’t take you today Bob, I’m going to just bring you down to the instant care. At least you can start taking the medicine.”
“Drugs, you mean.” He sighed warily, before ending in a coughing match loud and long enough to prove my grandma’s point. “Oh fine. Let’s go after lunch.”
Dusty turned toward me, his perceptible gaze lingering on my eyes before he smiled. Perhaps this would be all there was to our little fling. Maybe it would just be the sweet memories of this place that would carry me through until I found a man, less from my dreams and more based in reality. I swallowed, my gaze traveling over Dusty’s broad shoulders and chest as he sat next to me at the table. The feel of his lips so possessive on mine only a few hours earlier was never far from my thoughts.
He nudged my leg under the table with his and I forced myself to meet his gaze. With my grandparents’ relieved chatter and Dusty’s mollified expression, why did it seem I was the only one who would miss this?
“It’s a good thing you already made good on your bet.”
A small smile found its way to my lips, although I didn’t want it to. It didn’t feel right to smile with the emotions churning inside of me.
“Or actually,” Dusty continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I don’t know if you did.”
My stomach delighted like a thrill seeker’s roller coaster ride when he looked at me with his signature expression. Part earnest, part mischievous, and part sweeter than honey. Perhaps I didn’t have to wake up from my dream quite yet.
I glanced back at my grandparents huddling over the phone, talking loudly and arguing
about the best time that would work, before saying in a low tone, “I have very vivid memories of making good on our bet.”
“Oh, I do too,” he assured me, eyes sparkling. “But I recall kissing you. The kiss you gave me was so similar to the very first time, I just want to make sure you feel good about your effort.”
I leaned closer. “Oh, that kiss? That was just a test.” His eyes widened appreciatively, as I continued, “I wanted to see how badly you wanted me. And it appears you wanted me pretty bad.”
He chuckled, looking at me in a way that filled my belly with heat. “You’re not wrong there.”
“Then you better watch your back, Bennett. Because there’s another one coming and this one’s going to knock your socks off.” I let my gaze fall on his lips before lifting my eyes upward in what I hoped was some sort of seductive manner. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Just my socks?”
I smacked his arm lightly while he laughed.
He leaned closer to me, his lips a mere inch from my own and whispered, “Game on.”
With that, he stood, saying something about having cattle to feed. I stood up to follow him outside before my grandpa told me he’d go out this morning with Dusty.
“No, Grandpa, you’re going to the doctor, I’ll handle the chores.”
“We’re going this afternoon, but one more morning out working isn’t going to kill me. You stay inside and keep warm and help your grandma with lunch.”
I looked over at Dusty, pulling on his coat and boots, who was nodding in agreement with my grandpa. “Good idea, Bob. She was just saying how she hadn’t got my pie made yet.”
At my glare, he only grinned and stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind him, my grandpa trailing not too far behind.
I stood up and gathered my empty water cup, walking over to where Grandma stood beaming near the sink.
“Not a word, Grandma.” I tried to be stern but when I met her gaze we both dissolved into giggles. Mine was a bit embarrassed and hers delighted. She clapped her hands with glee before enveloping me in a warm hug.
“I had a feeling about you two the second you told me he was downstairs.”
“Grandma, it’s been two days. We’ll see what happens.”
She smiled, grabbing a large bowl out of the cupboard. “I’m just saying, I was right. That’s all. Now, I’m getting all the ingredients out for a chocolate pie. I believe you said you wanted to make him one?”
I scoffed, but took the worn out recipe card she offered me and studied it. It didn’t look too hard. “I never said I wanted to make it. But I guess I do owe him a pie.”
“A pie is how I caught your grandpa’s attention, you know?”
I gazed at her then, her curly white hair wasn’t as pronounced or robust as it usually was, with her not able to shower the past couple of days. But beyond that, she wore a lime green, flowy long-sleeved shirt mixed with navy blue slacks, completely bejeweled with necklaces, dangly earrings, and bracelets. Her bright red lipstick stained across a wrinkly face only accented a beautiful woman with enough spunk and liveliness for all of Wyoming.
I smiled her way. “Oh, I think you had plenty that caught his attention, Grandma. The pie was just a bonus.”
She pinched my cheek. “Well, sweet girl, I’ll leave you to it.”
At my panicked face, she laughed. “It’s not hard. I have all the faith in the world you can pull this off. Besides that, I need a shower if we’re going into town today. Who knows how long this power will stay on?”
My ears perked up at that. “Do you think it might go off again?” And plunge the four of us into another day of remote, isolated bliss?
“Probably, but the roads are cleared, so the power going off won’t fix your immediate problem.”
She made her way toward the stairs. “But you kids will work everything out just fine. I have no doubt.”
“I really don’t think you should leave me alone down here, Grandma.”
She grasped the hand rail before turning back to face me. “There may or may not be a cheater graham cracker crust in the cupboard above the fridge. For days I don’t feel like making one homemade.”
“Bless you,” I said, when there was indeed a store-bought pie crust in the cupboard. I pulled the package out and gasped. Turning to my grandma watching me expectantly from the foot of the stairs, I held out the incriminating evidence toward her.
“Gluten-Free?”
She gave me a sly smile. “The reason it doesn’t hurt his stomach is because I switched it to gluten-free a year ago.”
“He can’t tell?”
“He might have, if his taste buds still worked like they used to.” She winked before making her way up the stairs. “Now if I were you, dear, I’d use a spatula and carefully move the crust to my own pie tin. I’ve kept this secret for a whole year, I’d hate to spoil it now. Maybe rough up the edges just a bit, so it has a more homemade feel. Good luck.”
I found an empty pie plate and carefully scooted the pie crust onto the plate and hid the store-bought evidence deep in the garbage can. I fumbled my way through the rest of the recipe and put it in the oven for thirty minutes. Peeking outside, I saw no trace of the men before I ran upstairs, intent on having my own blessed shower before I sent Dusty off.
Twenty five minutes later, I descended the stairs with freshly washed and blow-dried hair, a fresh coat of mascara, blush, the tiniest hint of lipgloss, and my hair in a stylized messy top knot. The hair happened because I hadn’t bothered to bring anything resembling a curling iron with me for my week at grandma’s. So basically, other than smelling better and wearing jeans and a ribbed t-shirt, I looked pretty much the same.
The pie looked almost as good as something my grandma would have made. Later on, after more card games and the fancy lunch spread fried chicken and mashed potatoes my grandma had been dying to create, the four of us were ready to give it a try. Dusty declared it even better than he remembered. Which was great with me. If he was fine with a store-bought crust, that made my job much easier. I already had plans to make him a pie the next time I saw him. Maybe I was more like my grandma than I had thought. Pretty soon I would be tinkering at the stove, making Dusty fried chicken every time he came to visit. That did have a nice ring to it.
Grandpa guffawed. “That boy is gone on you, Lou.”
Dusty met my gaze and for a long moment we were both lost in shy smiles. All too soon, however, the spell was broken. While Dusty and Grandpa were outside, loading Dusty’s cattle into his trailer, I cut a few large slices of pie and put it on a paper plate for him, wrapping the whole plate with saran wrap. I threw in a plastic fork in case he got hungry on the road, before donning my coat and sneaking outside.
My grandma met my grandpa and Dusty outside, surrounding him with hugs and goodbyes while I leaned against his truck door, trying very hard to act like I belonged there. The snow shimmered on the ground as the blue skies and bright sun made it hard to remember the storm”s fury the past couple of nights. The air was crisp. My grandpa gave me a not so discrete thumbs up while my grandma covered a smile and prodded him toward the house.
Dusty turned toward me then, his gaze so intense upon my face it made my breath hitch. He walked toward me, in what seemed to be the speed of a turtle, while my heart rate sped at roughly the pace of a cheetah. An erratic and jumpy seventy miles per hour. My gaze dropped to the ground just before he reached me. With one hand, he reached out and tipped my chin up, my bashful eyes meeting his.
“What are you so scared of?” His voice was soft as his eyes bore into mine.
“You.”
He grinned and edged closer to me, his arms wrapping around my body pulling me flush with his. “For the record, you’re just as terrifying. I didn’t plan on any of this happening.”
My arms were pressed nicely against his chest. “Are you glad it did?”
“Very,” he whispered, holding my gaze.
We stood staring at each other for a long moment. A long moment that was starting to get awkward. It was like he was waiting for something. My brows furrowed curiously.
He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Good gracious, girl. You’re all talk. I’ve given you fifteen openings to kiss me and you’ve chickened out every time. Let me show you how it’s done.”
He cupped both of my cheeks with his hands. My heart rate spiked as he lowered his mouth to mine, a mere millimeter away from contact. The warmth of his breath on my lips caused goosebumps all down my arm.
“Attaboy, Dust!” my grandpa’s raspy voice shouted, both of us pulling away and breaking into sheepish laughter.
I took a step back, but Dusty’s eyes had me in a trance as he gripped the bottom of my coat and tugged me back to him.
“So...about that kiss?” His low voice made my heart race.
I cast a glance over at my grandparents, watching the show with great interest. No matter how sexy the cowboy in front of me was, it was still going to be much too awkward kissing in front of my grandparents. Especially kissing the way Dusty was probably intending.
Dusty chuckled, moved me over so he could yank open his door, effectively giving us a little privacy. A very little privacy. He poked his head around the door of the truck. “All right, you two peeping Toms. This girl can’t kiss me proper with you spying on us. Now go on about your business!”
My grandma’s hands flew to her face, covering a delighted giggle. My grandpa just laughed and threw us a wave. With his arm around his wife, they made their way back into the house.
This time when Dusty turned to me, he wore the look of a panther, stealthy, smooth, and...attractive.
Hot.
That was all I could think until I was pressed back against the truck, his hands on my face, his mouth leaning tantalizingly close to mine.
So, so hot.
And then he stopped, his mouth hovering millimeters from mine, his breath warm on my lips. I moved forward and he pulled away a fraction. We danced for a moment, forward and backward, until I pulled back, confused.
This is a test.” Dusty’s mouth rose upward, watching me.
“A test?”
“Yeah.” His eyes shone with mischief.
I glanced at his lips. “Let me guess, you’re gonna make me wait to kiss you until I see you again?”
Dusty looked horrified. “No. I’m not an idiot.”
“Then come here. I’m feeling brave now.”
He laughed, dodging my advances, but he redeemed himself when he pressed in even closer, hands in my hair and on my cheeks, caressing me everywhere but still refusing to initiate the kiss. “I plan to come up and see you every chance I get, Lucy Davis.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. It looked as though he planned to stop there, but couldn’t resist one quick peck on my cheek as well. “But I need to know if you’ll come to see me sometimes too? In Cody. Will you?”
A soft vulnerability passed on his face that nearly broke me. “If I say yes, will you shut up so I can kiss you?”
“I’ll do a lot of things if you say yes,” Dusty teased.
“Of course I will. You know how much I love a good Buffalo Bill museum.”
He groaned, but before he could say anything I pulled his willing lips down to mine.
A few long minutes later, we came up for air. I leaned into his embrace, not willing to let go of him just yet. He seemed to have the same reservations and held me tight against him.
“I don’t want you to worry about me, Lou,” Dusty whispered in my ear, his warm hands on my back. “I don’t want you to think up things to worry about with us. You don’t need to do that with me, you hear? I’ll only be thinking good things about you. I promise” He kissed me again. “No, great things.”
I breathed out a laugh while he continued, “I want you to feel safe with me. I don’t want you to worry or fret about things said or not said. Just let us be.” He brushed back the strands of hair hanging in my face. “Alright?”
Just let us be.
I loved that.
Perhaps it was the way he clutched my face with both of his hands, peering into my eyes with a sweet calm—gentle, loving, steady—that made me inch even closer to him. Or maybe it was the way he made him and me into an us.
“You drive a hard bargain, Bennett. But I think I can do that.”
“Good. Now kiss me, woman. I’ve got to fill my well for a dry spell.”
I pulled back. “How long is this dry spell going to last?”
Just before his head descended onto mine he said, “Plan on me next weekend. And then every weekend after that.”
His lips touched mine as I said, “I’ll get the gluten-free pancake mix ready.”
I felt his smile on my lips before I was thoroughly and exceptionally ravished. Dry spell indeed.
THE END