Page 1 of Dust and Desire
Chapter 1
Dustin
Saving the Baker Ranch has been the single most selfish thing I’d ever done. But to the rest of Sagebrush, it was an act of selflessness, one of those rare moments where a city boy from New York grew a heart and did the right thing. To all of them, I was a hero, their knight in shining armor. If they only knew the truth.
Really, I’d invested in the Baker Ranch to save myself, not them. Fresh out of a divorce and reeling from my newly discovered sexuality, I was only a handful of days from pitching myself out of my twenty-first story office window. Alright, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but that’s how dire things felt in the days leading up to meeting Logan and Dakota for the first time.
But from the moment I stepped out of the SUV onto the wide-open plains of Sagebrush, Texas, I knew I was home. Or at least that I didn’t want to leave. Ever. There was something about that small town that drew me in, something that just felt…right. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew I couldn’t leave. So, I didn’t.
Instead, I quit my corporate job, emptied at least half of my investment accounts, paid off the Baker Ranch, moved to the middle of nowhere Texas, and built myself a tiny home on the back edge ofthe Baker property. It made the Bakers very happy, and they were more than willing to let me live there permanently. In fact, Logan and Dakota checked on me quite often. And there were at least two nights a week when I heard one of them ride up with a pair of horses and drag me back to the main house for dinner. They were like family to me. The only family I had left…
My phone rang harshly, pulling me from my thoughts. I grabbed it, noticing the name on the screen. It was Alicia. I felt the same pang of bittersweet melancholy I got every time she called. You’d think after a couple of years I would’ve gotten over it.
“Hey, Ali,” I said, trying to inject some warmth into my voice as I answered.
“Don’t you ‘Hey Ali’ me, Dustin Corvus,” came her familiar sass through the speaker. “I’ve been calling you for three days straight and getting voicemail. What’s going on out there in the middle of nowhere?”
I winced, realizing I’d been avoiding her calls. Not intentionally, but the sweltering heat had me holed up in my tiny house with the AC cranked, and I’d been letting everything go to voicemail. “Sorry, it’s been brutal out here. And the reception is… bad.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone told me she wasn’t buying it. “You’re not getting all hermit-y on me again, are you? Because I will drive my ass down there and drag you out of that shoebox you call a house.”
Despite everything, I smiled. Alicia knew me too well. “I’m fine, really. Just trying to survive this Texas summer.”
“Well, survive it somewhere with air conditioning and other human beings. When’s the last time you actually talked to someone face-to-face?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then realized I couldn’t remember. Logan and Dakota had been busy with the cattle, and I’d been avoiding the main house. The isolation was starting to get to me, but I wasn’t ready to admit that to her.
“That’s what I thought,” she said into my silence. “Get out of that house, Dustin. Go findsome people.”
“Thanks, Ali,” I sighed, then quickly changed the subject. “How are things back in New York?”
“New York is New York,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “Same chaos, different day. My promotion went through, so now I’m officially running the entire department.”
“That’s amazing,” I said, genuinely happy for her. “You deserved it.”
“I know,” she replied, and I could practically see her flipping her braids over her shoulder. “Other than that, everything is the same. Busy. Hectic. Loud.” Her voice softened a bit. “Nothing like your quiet little paradise.”
I could picture her perfectly, sitting in her sleek Manhattan high-rise apartment, probably wearing something fabulous while sipping an overpriced coffee. The image made me smile despite myself.
“Paradise might be overselling it right now. It’s about a hundred degrees in the shade.”
“Poor baby,” she cooed mockingly. “Remind me again why you chose to live in a tin can in the Texas heat?”
I glanced around my tiny house. At four hundred square feet, it was cozy at best, claustrophobic at worst. But it was mine. “Freedom,” I answered simply.
“Mmm.” Her hum was noncommittal. I could tell she wanted to say more, to push me like she always did, but something held her back. “Well, I suppose if that’s what you need, that’s what you need.”
“Yeah…” I sighed, flopping back onto my bed. “It just… gets me away from my old life, you know?”
“You mean away from me?”
I froze, hearing that familiar cold tone in her voice. “That’s not what I meant, Ali. You know that.”
“I understand,” she said, her chill replaced with the warmth of a smile. “Divorcing me wasn’t enough. You had to just run off into the wild west to start a new gay life for yourself.”
There it was. The edge that always crept into our conversations,sharp and cutting despite her attempts to keep things light. I sat up, running my hand through my hair.
“Ali, that’s not?—”
