Page 5 of Dust and Desire
“My sister is good at a lot of things,” Logan said with a sigh. “But being domestic is not one of them.”
“Lucky for that new boyfriend of hers,” Colt joked, nudging Logan with his elbow. “Hopefully he likes hot cakes tough enough to pound in a nail. The last one made it a couple months, but he threw in the towel after that pan of concrete brownies she made for Christmas.”
Logan shook his head, but I could see the fondness in his expression. “She’s been working on it. Sort of.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, though privately I made a mental note to chew slowly. I didn’t want to lose a tooth or anything. But I’d survived worse than bad cooking, and I wasn’t about to complain about a home-cooked meal after three weeks of gas station food.
“Speaking of Caroline,” Logan said, heading back toward the door. “I should go help her finish up with the evening feeds and chat with her about the books. She’s been avoiding me for two days now.”He grinned. “She hates numbers. You’ll show him around, right Colt? Get him settled in?”
“No problem, boss,” Colt smiled, tipping his hat. “You got it.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Can’t,” Colt replied. “Gotta show my respect to the lord of the ranch.”
Logan, rolling his eyes, headed out the door, flipping Colt the bird as he went. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.
“That man puts up with a lot from me,” Colt said, shaking his head with a grin as Logan disappeared from view. “Lucky he’s got a sense of humor.”
I dropped my duffel on the small couch and tried not to stare too long at the way Colt’s jeans hugged his thighs. “You two known each other long?”
“Just this past year,” Colt pushed off from the doorframe and wandered over to the kitchenette. “I knew Caroline back in college but didn’t meet Logan until they built this arena. They’re good people. This apartment was actually mine when I first got here.”
I followed his gaze around the apartment. Someone had taken care to make it feel homey; a small vase of wildflowers sat on the counter, and the furniture, while simple, looked comfortable. Far better than anywhere I’d stayed in the last few years.
“So,” Colt said, turning those green eyes on me. “What’s your story, Alex? Logan said you’ve been all over.”
The question made my stomach tighten. How much to tell? How much to hide?
“Not much to tell,” I shrugged, aiming for casual. “Been working ranches since I was sixteen. Never found a reason to settle down anywhere.”
“Just like a tumbleweed,” Colt observed, studying me with a look that felt like he was seeing more than I wanted to show. “Any particular reason you landed in Sagebrush?”
I busied myself with unzipping my duffel. “Heard it was a goodplace. Small town, good people.” I paused. “Far enough from Oklahoma.”
“Ah,” Colt nodded, not pushing for details. “Running from somethin’? Orsomeone?”
My head snapped up, and I met his gaze. There was no judgment there, just understanding.
“Aren’t we all?” I countered.
He laughed, a warm sound that filled the small space. “Fair enough. We’ve all got our ghosts.” He gestured toward the window. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place before dinner. You’ll want to know where everythin’ is when you get started tomorrow.”
Outside, the late afternoon light painted everything gold. Colt led me through the grounds, pointing out the barns, equipment sheds, and pastures. His knowledge of the ranch was impressive, and I found myself relaxing as we walked, the tension from the road slowly easing from my shoulders.
“And that’s the arena where Caroline works her magic,” Colt said, gesturing to the large rodeo ring. “It was her idea to build the training center to begin with. Without her, none of this would be possible.”
“You help with that, right? Logan mentioned you’re part of the program.”
Colt’s face lit up. “Yeah, I teach bull riding and bronc busting. Well, I used to ride professionally until—” He cut himself off, his hand unconsciously moving to his side. “Let’s just say the bulls won a few too many rounds.”
I’d heard about those accidents on the rodeo circuit. Everyone had. The way he’d been thrown and trampled, ending up in the hospital more than once. The doctors had supposedly told him one more bad wreck could kill him, but looking at him now, strong and vital in the golden evening light, it was hard to imagine anything bringing down Colt Dawson.
“Must be tough,” I said carefully, “stepping back from something you love.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, but I caught the tightness around his eyes. “Teaching’s not so bad. Get to watch the next generation come up, help ‘em avoid some of the mistakes I made.” He glanced at me sideways. “What about you? You ever ride?”
“Horses, sure. Bulls?” I shook my head. “Not stupid enough to climb on something that weighs two thousand pounds and wants to kill me.”
