Dusty Britches Read online

  “My eyes did not light up,” Dusty defended herself.

  “Oh, come on! Don’t he just stir up them ol’ butterflies in your tummy with that handsome smile, Dusty?”

  “Alice!” Dusty was starting to feel a great melancholia rise in her again. She wanted to laugh, not think about what she could never have.

  “He’d give ya some mighty handsome sons, that’s for sure!”

  “Alice Jones, you stop! Now, one more word about Ryder Maddox and I’ll leave you here to love on this fussy boy all alone,” Dusty warned, feeling her face go warm and red again.

  “Well, all right,” Alice sighed, teasingly. “But ya better trap him into bein’ your lover ’fore Kenna grows up, ’cause she’s plum smitten herself.”

  “That’s enough, Alice.” Smiling, Dusty added, “She did take to him, didn’t she?”

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  “Alice!”

  “Oh, all right, you old stick-in-the-mud,” Alice relented in defeat.

  “Where’s Alex anyway?” Dusty asked.

  “Oh, he had to take some cattle over to the Springs. I miss him so much when he’s gone! That might be one reason Jakie is so crabby.”

  

  Dusty and Alice sat for a long while talking about things and people. When little Jakie would start fussing for one woman, the other would take a turn at rocking him or walking him around the porch until he settled for a while.

  Sometime later, however, the attention of both women was drawn to the tall, fascinating man striding slowly toward them, holding the hand of a little blonde angel. Makenna skipped along briskly to keep up with Ryder’s stride.

  “Ryder Magics showed me the new puppies in the barn! He says they gots the sweetest smellin’ brefs, and they do! I was sniffin’ theys brefs, and one of ’em licked me right on the nose! Ryder Magics says that’s how they kiss you! And I gots free bird feathers that we found in the hayloft, and one of them’s blue, and Ryder Magics says that maybe a blue jay lost it up there! And there was a nest in that old tree by the corral! And it gots free white baby little tiny eggs wif blue speckles! And Ryder Magics says we can look, but don’t touch!” Makenna babbled as she approached, still not letting go of Ryder’s hand.

  “My goodness!” Alice exclaimed, clapping her hands together with excitement. “You have been busy! What else did Mr. Maddox tell you?” she asked, smiling at Ryder.

  “Oh, lots and lots! We singed. Ryder Magics knows lots of songs…and we danced and…”

  As Makenna babbled on, Alice raised her eyebrows in approving astonishment at Ryder. He simply shrugged his shoulders as if it were all in a day’s work.

  “Well, I think Ryder oughta be able to settle down Jakie since he’s such a perfect type of fellow,” Alice teased, handing the baby to Ryder. “Don’t you think so, Dusty?”

  “Oh, definitely,” Dusty agreed, staring at Ryder and quirking one daring eyebrow.

  “Fine,” he mumbled, willingly taking the baby. “You ladies take a stroll. I got things well in hand here.”

  Dusty saw Alice wink at Ryder in thanks as they set out toward the fields. The walk was nice, and Dusty was glad her daddy had left Ryder home to wait for the supplies. It gave Alice a much-needed break, and it was good for her own soul. They talked for quite a while, and Dusty realized that Alice was worried about Alex working too hard. He didn’t want to spend the money to hire a hand, so he was working himself into a state of great fatigue. Dusty assured her she would let her father know so he could drop in and try to talk Alex into getting some help.

  All at once, they realized they’d been gone far too long. Alice and Dusty were both concerned the fussy little baby boy might have sent Ryder into yanking his hair out by the handfuls.

  Yet when Dusty walked into the parlor, her mouth dropped open in astonishment. She could not believe what she saw before her! There was Ryder, rocking back and forth, back and forth in the old, squeaky rocking chair—and there was baby Jake sound asleep on his chest. One of Ryder’s powerful hands patted the baby softly, if not somewhat awkwardly, on the back; the other cradled him comfortably, providing a perfect rest for his tired little body.

  “Poor little fella. He was just plum tuckered out,” Ryder spoke quietly, and Dusty imagined the low booming of his voice was a further comfort to the sleeping baby—ear nestled firmly on Ryder’s chest. “Look at his little face. That there’s a tired pup.”

  Certainly, the baby did sleep soundly—his peaceful little face porcelain white and pressed flat against Ryder’s body, his little mouth open, a steady stream of slobber already leaving a wet mark on Ryder’s shirt.

  “Why, Mr. Maddox,” Alice exclaimed, “I’m just…just…so grateful! I thought I would fly into screamin’ fits if he didn’t settle down soon.”

  Dusty still stared disbelieving at Ryder as he stood and carefully laid the baby down on a quilt lying on the floor—for there, next to the now-sleeping baby, lay a sleeping Makenna.

  “You put me to shame as a mother, Mr. Maddox!” Alice exclaimed in a whisper.

  “Nah. They was just tired,” he answered. “But I gotta get out to meet ol’ Leroy. I hear him comin’ just now.” He looked at Dusty and nodded. “Miss Dusty. Mrs. Jones.”

  “Well,” Alice began as Ryder retrieved his hat from the hat rack by the door and started to leave, “it’s mighty glad I am that you’ve come back to the ranch, Mr. Maddox.”

  “Same here, ma’am,” Ryder said, smiling.

  “You’ll make someone a good daddy someday,” Alice added.

  “Well, let’s hope so,” he chuckled, winking at Dusty.

  Immediately, she felt her face go crimson and hot. Nodding at Alice, he left, closing the screen door quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping children.

  “For cryin’ in the bucket, Dusty!” Alice exclaimed once Ryder was out of earshot and the two women had returned to the swing on the front porch. “Are ya really gonna turn him out on his fanny every time he speaks to ya?”

  “I didn’t turn him out on his fanny,” Dusty argued.

  “And it’s such a nice fanny at that,” Alice teased.

  “Alice! Stop that!” Dusty ordered.

  She was beginning to hurt inside. She didn’t want to talk about Ryder anymore. She didn’t want to think about how gentle and kind and adept he had been with Alice’s children. She didn’t even want to think about Alice’s two beautiful children. She wanted to think about heartbreak and hurt. She wanted to think about Cash and how he’d humiliated her—how Ryder Maddox had hurt her long before that. She wanted to remember that she would never let it happen again. Never!

  “Oh, sweet Angelina,” Alice sighed, hugging her friend suddenly. “Where did those two little girls go who used to sit in trees and spy on skinny-dippin’ cowboys?”

  For the first time in a long time, Dusty fully accepted the comforting embrace from her friend—even returned it. It was true. She had to admit it to herself—what her mother had told her so long ago was true. A hug can heal a hurting heart, she’d always said.

  “They’ve turned into two women with responsibilities,” Dusty sighed.

  “Naw,” Alice sighed. “One of ’em just needs to open her heart again.”

  Dusty remained silent and simply smiled at her friend as they sat enjoying the shade on the porch together.

  

  Evening lingered. As Dusty washed dishes, she gazed out the kitchen window to where Feller, Ryder, and Ruff stood around the fire pit with the others. Everyone had finished their dinner and was gathered outside around the pit as usual. It had been such a long time since Dusty had joined everyone for the traditional evening talk. Lingering around the fire pit had been near habit at the ranch for as long as she could remember. She longed to go out—to sit with Becca, her father, and the others and listen to stories and talk about life and the world. Still, to do so would be a risk. To do so would leave her too open to feeling.

  Ryder and Feller stood listening to something Ruff was
saying. Ryder stood with his arms folded across his chest, his feet planted firmly apart, nodding his head as he listened. Suddenly, he threw his head back, breaking into laughter. The rhythmic bounce of Feller’s shoulders told Dusty that whatever Ruff had said had ended in humor. Dusty didn’t even notice the heavy sigh escaping her lungs as she watched Ryder slap Ruff on the shoulder before sauntering over to take a seat on one of the giant logs around the fire. It was a small fire—small ones in the early spring and summer, bigger ones in the fall. Looking down at the plate she was washing, she was unaware of the smile breaking across her face as another memory rinsed over her.

  Her daddy had brought home a new kitten for Becca and Dusty one sunny summer afternoon. Dusty was ten—she’d never forget it. It was the same summer her daddy had hired Ryder on, and he’d only been with them a couple of months. Dusty and her sister had been absolutely beside themselves with delight over the kitten. It was all black, except for a few white markings on its backside. Dusty shook her head at the memory of how she and Becca had unintentionally tortured the kitten all day, cradling it in their arms like a mother would a newborn baby and never putting it down.

  “Put that poor creature down, girls!” Elly Hunter called from the front porch. Dusty could still see her mama standing on the porch, drying her hands on her apron, the skirt of her blue calico dress dancing in the soft breeze.

  “Oh, but, Mama,” Dusty whined, “he’s our baby!”

  Their mother laughed, her smile as beautiful as an angel’s—her laughter like the music of heaven.

  “He’s gonna run off and not come back if you don’t give him his space,” she told them. She smiled. “Now put him down, and find somethin’ else to do!”

  Becca relented and released the small kitten, who, in its desperation to escape, nearly flew as it bounded off toward the creek. After shaking her head, knowing full well that as soon as she went back inside the girls would be off to find the kitten again, Dusty’s mother blew them a kiss, turned, and disappeared into the house.

  “Come on, Becca!” Dusty whispered. “Let’s go find him!”

  Becca giggled and nodded, and both girls lit out for the creek. “What if he trees himself?” Becca asked. “We’ll never be able to climb up high enough to get him.”

  “Ryder will get him for us,” Dusty assured her. After only a few weeks, Dusty had confidence in the fact that Ryder Maddox would do whatever she asked him.

  Carefully, the girls combed the bushes and trees growing along the creek bank, but there was no sign of the cat. After a while, Becca lost interest in hunting for the elusive feline.

  Sighing heavily, she whined, “I’m tired of lookin’ for that ol’ cat. He’s hid too good. We’ll never find him.”

  Dusty sighed herself but with irritation. “You can’t give up that easy, Becca. He’s here somewhere!”

  Becca stood looking around, having given up in spite of her sister’s encouragement. Suddenly, however, she exclaimed, “I think I see him! Over by the barn!”

  Dusty turned and looked to where her sister was pointing. “He couldn’ta gotten by us that easy, Becca,” she told her sister. “We would’ve seen him, and I don’t see nothin’ over there.”

  “I’m tellin’ you I do!” Becca argued. “You can waste your time over here! But I’m gonna look by the barn.”

  “Fine,” Dusty sighed, with an air of great superiority. “But if I find him, I’m playin’ with him first.”

  “Fine,” Becca mumbled, angrily storming off.

  Several moments passed, and Dusty, all the more determined to find the missing cat, was looking so diligently in the bushes she didn’t hear Ryder approaching until he was standing right behind her.

  “Whatcha lookin’ for?” he asked.

  Dusty gasped and, putting her hand to her chest to calm her startled heart, turned to face him. “You scared the waddin’ outta me, Ryder!” she scolded.

  Ryder’s face immediately broke into an amused grin, as it more often than not did whenever Dusty found herself face-to-face with him.

  “Sorry,” he apologized with a chuckle. “What’re you rootin’ around for?”

  “That kitty Daddy brung home,” Dusty answered. “I sure hope he hasn’t treed himself.”

  “I’ll fetch him down for you if he has,” Ryder mumbled, looking up into the branches of the tree beneath which they stood.

  Dusty smiled with secret delight. She knew he would—even without him having to say it.

  “What’re ya doin’ over here anyhow?” Dusty asked the handsome cowboy.

  “Your daddy sent me to the house for lunch,” he answered, looking back to her. “Saw you nosin’ around in the bushes and thought I’d see if ya wanted to come in for lunch with me.”

  Dusty smiled at him. His eyes were so warm! She wanted to wrap herself up in their inviting color.

  “You gotta girl in town yet, Ryder?” she asked bluntly.

  He burst into laughter. It took him a moment before he drew in a deep breath and, shaking his head, sighed. “And if I do?”

  Dusty suddenly felt very irritated that he didn’t assure her he did not have his fancy set on a girl in town. “Who is she?” she asked.

  “Who?” he asked teasingly.

  Dusty rolled her eyes with impatience. “The girl in town you’ve set your fancy on?”

  “Why do you wanna know?” he asked her. “You gonna blab it all over?”

  “No,” Dusty truthfully told him. “I was just wonderin’.” Then, without even knowing why, she blurted out, “You ever kiss her yet?”

  Again Ryder chuckled and shook his head. “Now I don’t see how that’s any a your business, Miss Britches.”

  “What’s it like?” Dusty asked him—though she really didn’t want to know. Or did she?

  “What’s what like?” he grumbled, feigning innocence.

  “Kissin’.”

  Ryder grimaced and wrinkled up his nose. “Why’re you askin’ me this kind a thing, girl? You’re only ten years old. Ain’t nothin’ you should be worryin’ about yet.”

  “I’m nearly eleven,” she corrected him. It had hurt her when he’d reminded her of her youthfulness.

  At that moment there was a rustling in one of the bushes nearby. Too close to tears from hurt feelings to want to continue talking to Ryder, Dusty turned to the bush. “There he is…that sorry little cuss!” she mumbled.

  “What did you say?” Ryder asked, the pitch of his voice going higher—an indication he was surprised by her vocabulary.

  “He’s in there, Ryder!” she whispered excitedly. “I can see his rear end…all black and white! Yep! It’s him all right.”

  “You sure that’s your cat, Dusty?” Ryder asked. He seemed hesitant to join her in peering into the shadowy innards of the bush. “Your mama says the skunks’ve been in her garden somethin’ fierce this year and—”

  Yet before he’d finished his warning, Dusty had picked up a stick, using it to try to prod the scared kitten out of the bush. She hardly had time to blink before a quick mist of liquid squirted out of the bushes—accompanied by a familiar, nauseating odor. Instantly her skirt and boots were saturated as an angry skunk backed out of the bush. A moment later it waddled away toward the garden. Dusty screamed as if someone had just lopped off her arm and immediately began running in place, frantic and sobbing.

  “Now ya gone and done it, girl!” Ryder scolded as he took hold of her arm and began dragging her toward the creek.

  “I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!” Dusty screamed in panic.

  “You ain’t gonna die,” Ryder mumbled as he took hold of the collar of her dress and effortlessly ripped the garment in two.

  Dusty stopped bawling as she saw her favorite play dress drop to the ground at her ankles. “You tore my dress!” she hollered at him.

  Ryder simply directed her to step out of the ruined garment, sitting her down hard then on the ground. Pulling a pocketknife from his boot, he cut the laces of her shoes, pulled the
m off, and tossed them aside. He wiped his watering eyes on his shoulder before taking hold of her arm and pushing her into the creek. It was at that moment, as Dusty looked up to the young cowboy—his eyes watering and looking down at his own skunk-scented hands as if he’d never seen them before—that she inhaled her first good breath through her nose instead of her mouth. Immediately, her own eyes began to water. She began to cough and gag as she burst into dramatic sobbing again.

  “I smell like a skunk!” she cried.

  “Well, sugar,” Ryder told her, a smile spreading across his face, “that’s what happens when you poke a stick at the hind end of one!” He chuckled and doused his hands in the creek, shaking his head. He knew washing them in the creek would do little to rid them of the smell of skunk. In cutting the laces of Dusty’s boots and removing them, Ryder was now tainted with the odor too. “Now slip off them stockin’s and your petticoat. I figure your mama will be out shortly.”

  Dusty’s face puckered. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed quietly and did as she was told. Standing in the creek dressed only in her underthings, she began to shiver—still gagging as she breathed in the stench covering her.

  “Now come on, sugar,” Ryder said as he simply walked into the creek to stand towering before her. “It’ll wear off…eventually.” Again Dusty’s crying increased, and he chuckled, “Oh, ho! Now come on.” He unbuttoned his shirt, pausing a moment to sniff at his own hands before removing it, placing it about her shoulders and swooping her up into the cradle of his arms. “Ooo, whee!” he teased. “You smell like somethin’ the dog rolled in!”

  Not at all encouraged by his teasing manner, Dusty smacked him hard on the chest as he carried her toward the house. He only chuckled.

  “For Pete’s sake!” Elly Hunter exclaimed. She dried her hands on her apron as she stepped out of the house and onto the front porch. “What’ve you gotten yourself into now, Angelina?”