Carla Cassidy - Cowboy At Arms

Cooper kept up a steady stream of chatter on the short drive from the motel to the ranch. He asked a hundred questions of both Dusty and his mom.

Dusty certainly didn’t know anything about three-year-olds, but he was surprised by how bright Cooper appeared, how eager he was to learn things. Why was definitely one of his favorite words as he asked why trees grew up and why did cows have four legs? These were among other questions of seemingly great importance to Cooper.

When they reached the ranch, Dusty parked his truck in the shed and then they all transferred to one of the motorized carts that were used occasionally to get around the place without horses.

Trisha sat in the passenger seat with Cooper in her lap and Dusty took off for the cowboy dining room to retrieve the picnic food Cookie had prepared for them.

“I’ve already got the fishing equipment down by the pond,” he said as he drove slowly, aware of his precious cargo. “We just need to stop and pick up the food.”

“Mommy and I had a picnic once at the motel,” Cooper said. “But we ate inside ’cause it was too hot.”

“There are several nice shade trees down by the pond, so we can eat outside,” Dusty replied and was rewarded by Cooper’s hoots of excitement.

They pulled up in front of the dining room door and before Dusty could step out of the cart, Cookie appeared with a medium-size cooler in his hands.

Dusty made the introductions and Cookie gave them his usual taciturn grunt.

“I think he must be a bad cowboy,” Cooper said once the cooler had been loaded and they were on their way toward the pastures and the pond in the distance.

“He’s okay, Cooper,” Dusty replied. “He feeds all of us who work on the ranch, so in my book that makes him a pretty good cowboy.”

“He has bank-robber eyes,” Cooper said, obviously not completely convinced. “Look, there’s lots of cows!”

They had crested a ridge and in the distance the huge herd of Black Angus cattle grazed on the grass and jostled each other for shade beneath several large trees. Dusty raised a hand and waved to a man on horseback riding among the herd.

“That’s Mac McBride. He’s our singing cowboy,” Dusty said. “On most evenings he pulls out his guitar and plays and sings for us.”

“Do you sing?” Trisha asked him.

Dusty shot her a quick grin. “Only in the shower, and only if I’m alone,” he replied.

“I can sing. Do you want to hear me sing ‘Bingo’?” Cooper asked.

“Maybe later after we fish,” Trisha replied smoothly. “Maybe then we can all sing some songs together.”

“That would be fun,” Cooper replied.

Was this what families did? They fished and ate a picnic dinners, they sang and laughed together? It was all so alien to Dusty. He’d spent every minute of his childhood that he could remember dodging fists and being afraid.

The pond was some distance from where the cattle grazed. It was a nice drink of water stocked with plenty of fish. A wooden dock stretched out about eight feet and made a perfect place to sit and dangle a pole.

“I’m gonna have such fun,” Cooper exclaimed as Dusty pulled the cart to a halt.

“We’re all going to have fun,” Dusty replied.

It took only a few minutes for him to carry the cooler and a navy blue blanket into the shade of a nearby old oak tree. Together he and Trisha spread out the blanket and placed the cooler to one side while Cooper danced around them with an excitement that was contagious.

“And now, the main event,” Dusty said and motioned for them to follow him to the edge of the dock where he had fishing poles and foam cups of night crawlers awaiting them.

When he’d been in Bob’s Bait Shack earlier he’d picked up two things especially for Cooper. The first was a child’s fishing pole and the second was a bright orange life jacket.

“You’ve gone to so much trouble,” Trisha said soberly. “I’ll be glad to reimburse you for anything you bought.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “It was my pleasure.” He picked up the life jacket and then crouched in front of Cooper. “And now, my little buddy, if you want to fish you have to wear this.”

“Why?” Cooper held his gaze intently.

“Because only the very best fisherman in the whole wide world wears this special orange vest,” he replied. “Can I put it on you?”

Cooper nodded. Dusty helped him into the vest and fastened it. The last thing he wanted for today was any kind of a tragic accident.

When he stood and looked at Trisha, a burst of warmth that had nothing to do with the sun overhead filled him. She gazed at him with a softness that almost took his breath away.

He cleared his throat and picked up a rod and thrust it into her hands and then handed Cooper his shorter, bright yellow rod complete with a red bobber already on the line.

“How do you feel about worms?” he asked Trisha as he picked up his own rod. “Are you the squeamish type?”

“I’ve changed dirty diapers. I think I can handle worms,” she said with a small laugh.

“Dusty, I don’t wear diapers anymore. I’m a big boy.” Cooper looked up at him with pride.

“That’s good, Cooper. But I could already tell that you’re a big boy. And now I think we’re ready to hit the dock and catch some fish.” Dusty placed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and they all walked out onto the floating wooden structure.

For the next hour and a half Dusty gave lessons to Cooper about how to bait his hook and cast out and then the absolute importance of watching his bobber in the water.

They sat on the dock with Cooper between them and as the little boy focused solely on the task of waiting for a fish to bite, Dusty and Trisha talked about everything from their favorite foods to what crazy things people ordered at the café.

He discovered that she loved Chinese food and that her favorite color was purple. She confessed that she enjoyed watching reality television and was afraid of spiders. Each and every tidbit that he learned about her only made him like her more.

She caught the first fish, a crappie no bigger than his fingers. Cooper wanted to keep it, but Dusty explained that it needed to grow a bit more and the little boy helped him release it back into the water.

“How about we set down our poles for a while and see what Cookie packed for us to eat?” Dusty suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Trisha agreed and began to reel up her line.

“But I want to catch a fish.” Cooper’s bottom lip began to tremble ominously.

“We’ll take a break and eat and then we can fish some more,” Dusty said. He was rewarded by Cooper’s bright smile.

“Okay, and then I’ll catch a fish,” he replied happily.

The kid was definitely a little charmer. Trisha took off Cooper’s life jacket and when they sat on the blanket, Cooper planted himself nearly in Dusty’s lap. It was a strange feeling for Dusty, to feel Cooper’s utter trust in him, to know that the boy liked him.

It was equally heartwarming to see the approval in Trisha’s eyes. She obviously liked the interaction between him and Cooper.

“Let’s see what we have,” Dusty said and opened the top of the cooler. “Why don’t you help me unpack this thing, Cooper?”

“I can do it. Mommy says I’m a good helper,” he said eagerly and began to pull out the containers of food and set them on the blanket in front of them.

As he set them down, Dusty removed the tops to reveal fruit cut up in bite-size chunks, cubes of cheese, ham and cheese sandwiches, and three fat slices of chocolate cake. There was also bottled water and juice.

“Cake!” Cooper exclaimed.

“After a sandwich,” Trisha quickly replied.

They ate and talked and laughed and Dusty couldn’t remember the last time he’d known such easy joy. Just as Trisha had tackled the worms for bait, she ate with a gusto he found refreshing.