Tempting Dusty (Temptation Saga Book 1) (14 page)

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, Sam went off to school at the university, majored in agriculture, came back, and Dusty started college. She had a scholarship. Smart as a whip, that one. It’s well-known around the area that she’s some kind of mathematical genius, as well as a wizard with animals. She could even rival your brains, I reckon.”

“Keep talking.”

“Anyway, she dropped out of school after a year.”

“Because of money?”

“Hell, no. She had a scholarship, remember?”

“Then why’d she quit?”

“She got sick.”

“So?”

“I mean
really
sick. Acute lymphocytic leukemia.”

Zach jerked forward. “What?”

“A.L.L. Same thing Mollie died from.”

“Oh my God…”

“Unlike Mollie, though, Dusty evidently responded to conventional treatment. She did chemo and went into remission. This was about five years ago.”

“That can’t be right. It’s got to be a mistake. How did you find all this out?”

“The A.L.L. and the chemo are common knowledge, but as I told you, Larry sometimes leaves his scruples at home.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning”—Chad picked up one of the manila folders from the coffee table—“I have Dusty’s medical records.”

Zach rose again, his temper storming through his body. “How the hell?”

“I don’t ask. I just take the information and pay Larry’s bill.”

Zach grabbed the folder from Chad and threw it to the floor. “That’s a huge violation of Dusty’s privacy. Not to mention illegal, Chad.”

“So you don’t want to know the details then?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Zach,” Laurie said, “I don’t condone this invasion of Dusty’s privacy, but I think you should listen. It’ll help you understand why she left you.”

He sat. He couldn’t help the curiosity that flowed through him. His Dusty, sick? He had to know what happened. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“You’re sure?” Chad asked.

“For Christ’s sake, Chad, speak!”

“It turns out A.L.L. has a pretty good survival rate. For some reason, Mollie didn’t respond, but Dusty did. She only needed four months of chemo and she was in remission.”

“God.” The thought of Dusty having to endure even one second of chemo broke his heart.

“A.L.L. is actually more common in kids than adults,” Chad continued. “So it’s pretty weird that both Mollie and Dusty got it as adults. Could be genetic, but nothing in the records indicates that there’s any basis for that. Anyway, the chemo doesn’t have a lot of lasting effects in kids, but in adults, there are things that occur pretty frequently.”

“Such as?”

“Infertility, Zach. Dusty can’t have children.”

“Fuck.” Zach buried his head in his hands. As much as Dusty loved animals, he had a hunch she loved kids even more. “They know for sure she’s infertile?”

“It’s pretty likely. The records are full of references of irregular periods. She’s only had like four periods since she was sick. They’re pretty sure she’s infertile.”

“Damn, it must have killed her to find that out.”

“I imagine,” Laurie said. “That girl’s a born mother if I ever saw one. The way she fusses over animals. It was apparent even when she was a small child.”

“None of that matters to me,” Zach said. “I never told her I wanted kids.”

“But you do,” Laurie said.

“Well, yeah, I do. But we could adopt. I’d rather have Dusty.”

“The story’s not over yet, bro.”

“There’s more?” Zach clenched his jaw. He wasn’t sure he could take anymore.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Go on.”

“Well, you’ve gotta know that chemo ain’t cheap. The O’Donovans didn’t have any health insurance.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. Sean was determined that Dusty would get the best care available, especially after what happened to Mollie. He needed money, and he needed it quickly, because as you can imagine, you don’t mess around with cancer. You treat it as soon as you find it. Anyway, he got involved in some shady business dealings that went awry. He damn near lost everything. The ranch ended up mortgaged to the hilt. They had to sell everything—the cattle, the animals, even some of the property itself. The only thing of value they kept was Dusty’s barrel racer, Regina. I guess old Sean couldn’t bear to take the mare away from his sick daughter. You know how Dusty loves animals.”

“It must have killed her to sell Regina to Harper Bay,” Dallas said.

“She sold her horse to Harper Bay?” Laurie shook her head.

“Yeah,” Zach said. “Go on, Chad.”

“Anyway, Sean kind of wilted away after that. He died within a year of Dusty’s remission. Word around Black Eagle is he died of a broken heart, if you believe that sort of thing. But there are some who say he took his own life.”

“What?”

“Larry couldn’t find any solid proof. Probably only Sam and Dusty know what really happened to their pa.”

“I suppose so.”

“Anyway, around the time Dusty was doing her chemo, a neighbor of hers bought a stud bull. Dusty was over visiting and took to the animal. That’s how the whole Bull Whisperer thing started. It seems working with the bulls kept Dusty focused, so she didn’t succumb to the fatigue and depression that’s so common in cancer patients. Turns out she has a unique gift with bulls, as we all know now from experience.”

“I’m thankful she found something that was cathartic for her,” Laurie said.

“Yeah, it no doubt helped when her pa died too,” Dallas said.

Zach swallowed and took a deep breath. “I knew she needed money. I would have gladly given her everything I have. I never told her I wanted a boatload of kids. I don’t care that she’s a cancer survivor. She’s well now, so why did she leave me? It still doesn’t make any sense. Unless she just didn’t feel the same way about me that I feel about her.”

“I’d wager that she does, bro,” Chad said.

“How so?”

“There’s a little more to my story.”

The ominous look in Chad’s brown gaze told Zach the news wouldn’t be good. He buried his face in his hands. “What is it?” he mumbled.

“Turns out Dusty was nearing her five year mark as a cancer survivor. If you hit five years out from A.L.L., you’re considered cured. She had a blood test shortly before she and Sam came to Denver for the stock show.”

“And?”

“It showed an elevated white count. Her records show a message was left for her at the Holiday Inn in Denver, and she called and got the information the day before her barrel race.”

The day he found her by Diablo’s pen, Zach thought.
The day we made love for the first time.

Everything was falling into place now. Her statement that there were things worthy of her fear, but Diablo wasn’t one of them. She’d said short hair wasn’t flattering on her. She meant no hair. She’d said she couldn’t get pregnant, that he deserved better. It all made sense. But why hadn’t she told him? He had opened up to her, professed his love to her.

“God, she can’t be sick again. She can’t be.” Zach buried his face in his hands. Profound sadness threatened to consume him.

“If she is, Zach, she needs you more than ever,” his mother said.

“Dusty was supposed to go in for a recheck in three weeks, which is just about now,” Chad said.

“You don’t have those records?”

“’Fraid not.”

“And no health insurance.” Zach sighed, remembering how he had paid her bill for her concussion.

“Nope.”

“No wonder she sold her mare to Harper. And she wanted that purse for riding Diablo. It wasn’t the ranch. It was her life.” Zach stood and began to pace.

“There’s something else you should understand,” Chad said.

“What?”

“Her white count was up when you were in the hospital with your infection. She had to know what a huge risk she was taking by staying with you. You were growing God-knows-what kind of gunk in your leg, and she had a depressed immune system. She risked her health to be with you. To take care of you.”

“She never left your side, Zach,” Laurie said. “Not once.”

“Why wouldn’t she trust me with this? I told her I loved her, for God’s sake!”

“I think she wanted to protect you, Zach,” Laurie said. “You would have done the same for her.”

“Protect me from what?”

“From having to deal with her illness. From the sadness of possibly losing her.”

“Damn it all to hell,” he said. “What good is all my land, my money, my stupid fucking Harvard education, if I can’t save her?”

“Zach, sugar—” Laurie reached out to him.

“No, Ma. Stop right there.”

He’d burn in hell before he let Dusty go through this alone. He’d be there for her, take care of her, love her. Whether she wanted him or not. Zach rose and strode toward the door.

“Now where are you going?” Dallas asked.

He faced them with a determined gaze. “I have to see Harper Bay about a horse, and then I’m going to go get my woman.”

S
unday afternoon
at the Double D Ranch found Dusty tending to one of the barn cats delivering a litter of kittens. A large litter—nine so far, and at least one more was on the way. The cat, a tabby Dusty called Jemma, was having trouble with this particularly large kitten. Dusty had called for the local vet in Black Eagle, but she was out of town. Sam was in Billings and wouldn’t be back until late in the evening, so Dusty was on her own. She was concerned about the cat but secretly pleased that this blessed event required her staunch attention. It kept her mind off the news that was to come the next day.

“Come on, Jem, you can do it.” Dusty massaged the cat’s abdomen, trying to ease the delivery. Jemma squalled, but Dusty remained focused and tried to calm the cat and the newborn kittens searching for a teat.

When the last kitten still refused to budge, Dusty reached in to extract him manually. Jemma screeched but lay motionless, her belly pumping rapidly with breaths. Dusty turned the kitten carefully and at last withdrew him from his mother. Large, as she had expected, and black with caramel stripes. “We’ll have to call you Fatso.”

She checked Jemma and determined that Fatso was indeed the last kitten. Thank goodness. Poor Jemma was exhausted. She lay on her side, and once all the babies were nursing, Dusty stood up and wiped her hands on her overalls. What a mess.

But what a miracle. She loved newborns of all kinds. She sighed, knowing one of her own wasn’t in the cards. Never would be.

Her hair, which she still wore down, hung in strings around her dirty face. Her clothes were filthy with afterbirth and mud. Yuck. She needed a shower, and she needed it now.

As she headed out the door of the barn and up the path to the small ranch house, she spied a blue pickup rolling into the drive. A pickup she had seen before. Had almost made love in.

Zach. Zach was here.

And she was covered in cat placenta.

She could run for the house, but he’d see her. She could run back to the barn, but when he found the house empty, that’s the next place he’d look. Or she could just run.

But she didn’t want to. Not this time. She was so tired of running from him. So tired of running, period. He had come for her, and she wanted him.

He stepped out of the truck, and her heart warmed when she saw he wasn’t limping. She’d known he’d heal quickly. He was so vibrant and strong, so full of life.

He deserved a woman who could be his equal in that respect. Unfortunately, that wasn’t her.

But he had come for her. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had known he would eventually. She had wanted him to. As he approached the door to her tiny home, she walked toward him. Then she couldn’t help herself. She ran.

“Zach!” she cried out.

He turned, and his lazy smile lit up his gorgeous face. Oh God, he had grown a short goatee just like she’d asked him to. He looked incredible. So very incredible. All she could think about was how those short whiskers would feel against her cheeks when he kissed her.

And he
would
kiss her. It was written all over his face.

Within five seconds she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, their lips meshing together in frantic desperation. Her face was grimy and her hair not fit for human eyes, but he kissed her as though she were the last woman on earth. She kissed him back the same way.

After several timeless moments, Zach broke the kiss and pushed her away slightly, holding her shoulders. “You look beautiful,” he murmured.

She couldn’t help laughing at that observation. If she had ever doubted his love for her—and she hadn’t—she’d have been convinced of it at that moment. “I just delivered a litter of ten kittens. I’m covered in blood and guts. Only you would say I look beautiful right now.”

“You’ve never been anything but beautiful to me, darlin’.” He ran his fingers through the thick tangles of her hair. “You’re wearing your hair down.”

She nodded.

“It’d be more convenient to wear it braided. You know, for doing ranch work.” He grinned.

“Yeah, I know.” Then, “You grew a goatee.”

“Someone once told me I might look good with one.” He winked.

“Someone was right,” Dusty said.

“Why’d you leave me, darlin’?” He trailed his fingers down her cheek, down the curve of her neck. She shivered.

“It’s a long story.”

“Will you tell me? Will you let me help you?”

Dusty sighed. He had come all this way for her, and the reasons for keeping secrets no longer seemed important. She wasn’t sure she could even remember them.

Oh, yeah. She didn’t want to saddle him with a sick, infertile woman.

But maybe that was his decision to make, not hers.

“I’ll tell you.” She nodded. “I should have told you sooner. So come on in. The house is a sty. I haven’t been feeling real well so I haven’t done a lot of housework. I’m sorry…”

“I don’t give a damn how clean your house is, Dusty. Is Sam at home?”

“He’s in Billings. Said he’d be home around ten.”

“Let’s go in. I could use a cold drink.”

“Of course. I should have offered you one. Where are my manners?”

“I don’t give a damn about manners either, darlin’, I’m just thirsty.”

She led him into the house and pointed to the kitchen. “There’s some soda and iced tea in the fridge. A couple of beers too, I think. I really need to take a quick shower and burn these overalls. Could you excuse me for a few minutes?”

“Sure. Take your time. I’ll grab my duffel and get settled.”

“You want to stay here?”

“Where else would I stay’? Black Eagle’s hardly a thriving metropolis. What is it, population nine hundred?”

“Nine seventy-eight, I’ll have you know.” She smiled and headed to her room to clean up.

Dusty’s heart pounded as she stepped into the hot stream of water. The shower soothed her soiled skin, her tired muscles. She squeezed some shampoo into her palm, lathered it up, and spread it over her wet head.

“Allow me.”

Zach was behind her, naked and glorious in his maleness. He was even more beautiful than she remembered.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Getting settled,” he said.

“In my shower?”

“Can you think of a better place?”

“At the moment, no.”

“As you will recall, I have a special talent for hair washing.” He massaged her scalp. Between his strong hands rubbing her, his hard chest pressed against her, the steamy hot water, and the aroma of her herbal shampoo mixed with the aroma of Zach, she was in heaven.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “I’ve missed you so much, Zach.”

“Then why did you leave me?”

She opened her eyes and stared into his. Their unique beauty was laced with sadness.

“I’ll tell you. When we’re out of the shower, okay? Right now, can we just relax?”

“Here, let me rinse you.” He turned her and ran his fingers through her long tresses as the shower pelted the lather down the drain. She turned away from him, leaned her head back, and let the water stream push her hair from her face so it hung behind her in sopping locks. This time when she looked into his eyes, they smoldered. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

Their wet bodies slid together under the stream of the shower, and Dusty clamped her arms around Zach’s neck as he hoisted her upward. She wrapped her legs around him and he entered her. So gently, so slowly. Not like in the hay barn at the stock show. This was lingering, soothing love. He pressed into her deeply, and she felt his sweet caress everywhere—in her heart, her soul, her very core. She clamped her mouth onto his and kissed him with passion, with all the love she felt for him. She did love him. So much.

Please,
she begged silently.
Please don’t let him be too disappointed.

When he broke away, she whimpered, but he licked her earlobe and whispered endearments to her. Then he pushed her against the cool tiled wall of the bath and shoved into her more forcefully. “I love you, darlin’.” He thrust, holding her rump in one hand while the other reached into her private curls. “I love you so much.” He thrust again as he circled her clit with his thumb. “Please tell me you love me, Dusty. Please.”

“Yes,” she said in a breathless rasp. “Yes, I love you, Zach. I love you.”

“Again,” he groaned. “Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you so much. Only you.”

“I want to be your only lover, Dusty. The only man to come inside you. Please. Let me be the one.”

Emotion swirled around her, in her. “Yes, I want that too. I want you to be the only one.”

He plunged into her more deeply, taking, giving. “I want to take care of you.”

He didn’t know what he was saying, of course. But Dusty was determined to let him make the choice. “I love you,” she said again, and then she climaxed. As her walls hugged him in the ultimate caress, she felt him come. She felt every spurt of his seed as he thrust.

And he told her loved her again.

“
P
ut this on
,” Zach said, after they had dried each other and he had pulled on a pair of boxers from his duffel. In his hand was a T-shirt.

“Uh, okay. What is it?”

“Just one of my shirts. The thought of my woman hanging out in one of my shirts has always kind of turned me on.”

“I don’t think you need any help in that department.” Dusty raised her eyebrows at him. “But I love the idea of wearing your shirt.” She pulled it over her head. “It’s so big on me.”

“Here.” He handed her a pair of his boxers, and she stepped into them. He sat down on her bed and pulled her onto his lap. “Time to talk,” he said.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Dusty fingered the red scar where Zach had been gored. There was an indentation where the surgeon had removed the diseased tissue, an interruption in his hair pattern. She stroked the flesh, smoothed her fingers along the ridges of scar tissue and then over the concave surface. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore, and the redness will fade with time.”

“But you’ll always have the scar.”

“Yeah. I’ll always have the scar.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve been through all that, darlin’. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He pressed his soft lips to her neck. “Now. You love me.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“I always knew it, anyway.”

“Oh you did, did you?” She smiled and touched his cheek. “Confident of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Just in love. It’s a two-way street, you know.”

“Yeah.” She stroked his moustache. “I suppose it is.”

“So why did you leave me?”

She sighed, holding her breath for a moment, gathering her courage. “I never wanted to leave you. Please believe that.”

“Okay. I believe you. So tell me why you did.”

“There were…that is, there
are
circumstances.”

“They don’t make any difference to me.”

“You don’t even know what they are yet.” She punched him playfully.

“So?”

“Oh, Zach. If only things were different.”

“Time to talk, darlin’. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s such a long story, and you already know that our ranch is in financial trouble.”

“Don’t care. I have money. Keep talking.”

“I love you, and I don’t care about your money. I want you to know that.”

“I do know that.”

“Okay. The thing is, your money can’t buy what I need, sweetheart.”

“Which is?”

“My health. I’m sick, Zach.”

“You look great to me.” He smiled and brushed a damp tendril of hair out of her eyes.

“You’re so sweet. The thing is, I…had cancer.”

“I know.”

“What? How did you know?”

“It’s pretty common knowledge around Black Eagle, Dusty. You had leukemia. The same kind your ma died from.”

“How long have you known?”

“Not long.”

She tensed and moved ever so slightly backward. “And you came for me anyway?”

He pulled her back, and her breasts brushed his chest. “What kind of a man do you take me for? Did you think I’d stop loving you because you had cancer? I’m a little pissed you’d think such a thing.”

“No, I never thought that. It was more me. I’m the problem.” Dusty’s heart fluttered. Now was the moment of truth. She had to tell him, and she had to face the fact that he might not be able to handle it. “You see, there’s a good chance the leukemia has returned.”

Tears formed in her eyes, but he brushed them away. His touch was loving, concerned.

“Do you know for sure?”

“No. I get the results of my blood test tomorrow. But I had a test three weeks ago that showed an elevated white cell count, and I’ve been feeling like crap lately. I’m tired, and I’ve been sick to my stomach. Although I feel okay right now.”

“Anything else?”

“I have a bruise on my thigh.” She shifted so he could see the contusion.

“Just one bruise?”

“Yes. But I can’t remember how I got it.”

He chuckled. “You work your pretty bottom off on a ranch all day and you can’t recall bumping your thigh?”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not.” He fingered her hair, twirling it. “But Dusty, one bruise isn’t anything to worry about.”

“I suppose not, but along with the fatigue and the nausea, and my elevated white count a few weeks ago…”

“When do you find out tomorrow?”

“The doctor said he’d call as soon as he knew anything.”

“Then we won’t worry about it for now. Whatever tomorrow brings, we’ll face it together.”

“You still want me?”

“Christ, Dusty. What do you think?” He kissed her hard.

She broke away. “You don’t know everything.”

“What else is there to know?”

“I can’t give you what you need, Zach. Even if I go into remission again.”

“What is it that you think I need, other than you, darlin’?”

“A family. Babies, Zach. I can’t give you a child.”

“Because of the chemo?”

“Yeah. I’m infertile. It happens sometimes in women. It happened to me.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. You’d have been a wonderful, loving mother. You still can be. We can adopt. Hell, we’ll adopt a whole ton of kids if that’s what you want.”