he wanted for later that afternoon. When he was finished, Tony Nakni motioned for Dusty to sit beside him.
Tony was half Choctaw Indian and something of a mystery, although he and Dusty had always shared a good relationship. “How did it go last night?” he asked once Dusty had gotten settled.
“Really good,” Dusty replied. “In fact, we’re having a picnic down by the pond this afternoon and I’m going to teach her three-year-old son, Cooper, how to fish.”
Tony raised a dark brow. “You must have made a good impression on her if she’s letting you meet her son already.”
“I hope I made a good impression, because it appears that I have a little competition.” He told Tony about the note and the flowers.
Tony shook his head. “I’ve never understood that kind of approach. I mean, if you want a woman, then don’t play silly games, just go after her.”
Dusty looked at his friend in open amusement. “And exactly when are you going to decide to go after a woman?”
“When and if I ever find somebody worth pursuing,” Tony replied.
The dining room suddenly fell silent. Dusty looked up to see that Cassie Peterson stood in the doorway. She was clad in a pair of designer jeans and a bright pink blouse and her blond hair looked as if it had been styled by a professional hairdresser only minutes before. She was definitely a little bit of big city in the room.
It was rarely a good thing when she appeared in the cowboy dining area, especially first thing in the morning.
“I’m sorry to bother you all while you’re eating breakfast,” she said. “But I wanted to let you know that Chief Bowie is planning to interview you all again and I want you to make yourselves available to him. You all know how important it is to cooperate with him so that he can get answers as to the mystery of the skeletons that were found on the property.”
“He’s already interviewed us once,” Brody Booth said.
“I’d like to know if he’s looking at the ranch hands on the Humes ranch as carefully as he’s looking at all of us,” Flint McCay added.
Cassie held up her hands. “I’m sure Dillon is conducting interviews with everyone he thinks necessary to get to the bottom of the murders. Again, I would appreciate your cooperation in this matter. Thanks in advance.”
“She probably wants this all cleared up so she can sell the ranch,” Tony said darkly once Cassie had left the building. “I’m sure it would be hard to sell a ranch where seven unsolved murders took place.”
“Raymond Humes would buy this place in a minute,” Dusty said. “I heard that he’s already contacted her about buying her out.”
Tony’s black eyes flashed with annoyance. “If she sells to him, then Cass’s spirit will never rest peacefully. She hated that man.”
Nobody knew what had happened between Raymond Humes and Cass Holiday that had created such bad blood between them. Dusty only knew that thoughts of the tough woman who had taken them all in still caused a piercing ache of loss deep in his heart.
A half an hour later, he left the dining area and went back to his room. He fought the impulse to call Trisha to make sure she really hadn’t packed up her son and all of their belongings and left town sometime during the night. He still couldn’t make sense of her dramatic reaction to the flowers and the note, but he hoped maybe when he saw her they would be able to have a conversation that would shed a little light on it.
In the meantime he had plenty of things to do to keep him busy until it was time for him to pick up her and her son for the afternoon of fun.
The last thing he wanted to do was entertain thoughts about the murders on this land and the fact that Dillon Bowie would interview him once again.
Dusty wasn’t worried about having another conversation with the lawman. He had nothing to hide and he was certain that none of his brothers had anything to do with the horrendous crime that had taken place around the time they had all been brought to the ranch.
At just a little after nine o’clock, Dusty headed into town. He wanted to pick up a few things so that the day with Trisha and her young son would be a complete success.
The first place he stopped was Bob’s Bait Shack just off the main drag. The weathered wooden building held not only an array of hunting and fishing equipment, but also different kinds of bait.
He got what he needed for the afternoon fishing date and then headed to the café for a midmorning cup of coffee. He had a feeling that the hours were going to drag as anticipation and a touch of anxiety pooled inside him when he thought of Trisha.
Surely she would have called him by now if she’d done something crazy like packed up and left town, he thought as he entered the café.
“Hey, Dusty,” Daisy greeted him and pointed him to an empty two-top, where Julia Hatfield took his order and then delivered his coffee.
Even if Trisha hadn’t called him, surely she would have contacted Daisy by now to give her a heads-up if she was no longer going to work at the café. Daisy had said nothing to him about that happening when he’d come in.
He sipped his coffee and watched customers arrive and depart, and instead of thinking about Trisha, he found himself thinking about her son.
He’d never spent much time around kids. He certainly hadn’t ever really considered whether he wanted children or not. He didn’t know how to be a father. He definitely hadn’t had a stellar role model where parents were concerned.
A knot of tension fisted up in his stomach and a phantom pain fired off in his left ear. He’d lied to Trisha when he’d told her he didn’t have any family. As far as he knew his parents were still alive and well in Oklahoma City, but they’d both been dead to Dusty since he’d left home and them far behind.
He hadn’t wanted to share any part of his nightmarish past with Trisha on their very first date.
Only Forest Stevens had known the full extent of what Dusty had gone through in his childhood. The big cowboy had been not only another runaway on the streets but had also become Dusty’s best friend and protector during those dark and frightening days before they’d finally landed at Cass’s ranch for a second chance at life.
Dusty knew in his very gut that he would have died on the streets without Forest watching over him. He mentally made a note to call his friend soon.
He was working on his second cup of coffee when Zeke Osmond walked into the café. The dark-haired, wiry man spied Dusty and immediately headed toward him. Dusty sat up straighter in his chair and wondered what Zeke might want with him. The two of them certainly didn’t share any kind of a friendship.
“I heard through the grapevine that you were out with Trisha last night,” he said as he stopped next to Dusty’s chair. The man smelled of body odor, cigarette smoke and cow manure.
“You heard right,” Dusty replied. “You have a problem with it?”
“I just didn’t know that she was stupid enough to waste any of her time on a snot-nosed, no-account cowboy who had a social worker and a crazy old broad as his parents.” Zeke rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes as if anticipating some kind of violent response.
Dusty wouldn’t give him the pleasure despite the swift bite of anger that roared up in his chest. “Are you done here?” He held Zeke’s gaze for a long moment and then looked down at the table and picked up his coffee cup, as if the man warranted not another second of his time or attention.
He sensed when Zeke walked away from the table and he looked up again to see the creep joining another group of men at a booth on the other side of the café.
Why on earth did Zeke Osmond give a damn about him seeing Trisha...unless Zeke wanted her for himself? Was it possible that Zeke was responsible for the mug of flowers and the note that had been left at her doorstep