Dusty Britches (19 page)

“
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 b
efore 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 l
iquid squirted out of the bushes—
accompanied
by a familiar, nauseating odor. Instantly
her
skirt and boots
were saturated as an angry sk
unk
backed out of the bush. A moment later it
waddl
ed
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 y
a
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 them off
,
and tossed them aside. He wiped his watering ey
es 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. S
he began to cough and gag as she burst into dramatic sobbing again.

“
I smell like a skunk!
”
she cried.

“
Well, sugar,
”
R
yder told her, a smile
spread
ing
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. H
e 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. T
ears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed
quietly
and did as she was told.
S
tanding in the creek dressed only in her un
derthings, 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?
”

“
Miss Britches
’
s been keepin
’
company with them varmints that
’
ve been getti
n’ to your cabbages, Mrs. Hunter
!
”
Ryder explained brokenly through his coughing.

Dusty
’
s mother
started down the porch steps. She stopped dead
in her tracks,
however,
bringing her apron up to her face
to try and lessen the stench
.

“
A skunk?
”
she squealed.
“
Dusty, I swear…I never know what to expect next!
”

“
Oh, it ain
’
t nothin
’
a little scrubbin
’
and a week or so won
’
t wear off, Mrs. Hunter,
”
Ryder assured her.

“
Well, for cryin
’
in the bucket, Ryder,
”
Dusty
’
s mother sighed.
“
What
’
ll I do? I can
’
t scrub her up in the kitchen
.
It
’
ll send the whole house to stinkin
’
!
”
Dusty watched as her mother leaned forward and sniffed Ryder.
“
Good grief, boy! You smell nearly as bad as my poor baby!
”

Ryder just nodded, asking
,
“
Well, where do y
a
want the little onion?
”

Elly shook her head
.
Dusty could tell by the look on her face her mother
’
s irritation was
already
gone
. Fact was,
she was struggling not to laugh.
“
Well…I
’
ll get Feller to haul the washtub out to the barn
.
I guess that
’
s better than stinkin
’
up the house!
”

“
Yes, ma
’
am,
”
Ryder nodded
. He turned and carried
Dusty toward the barn.

Dusty still
wept,
tears rolling down her cheeks.
Yet
the quiet chuckling
overtaking
Ryder comforted her.
It was obvious he wasn’t angry—only amused. T
hey reached the barn
soon enough, and
he set her down just inside.

“
I guess all we got is each other for a few days, Dusty,
”
he told her.

Dusty nodded, oddly consoled.
Suddenly,
Becca
appeared, running
toward them, the elusive black
-
and
-
white kitten clutched tightly in her arms.

“
He was in the barn, Dusty!
”
she called.
“
He was just where I told you he…
”
Becca sto
pped short about ten feet away. She grimaced and pinched
her nose closed.
“
Du
sty! You stink!” she exclaimed, and
Dusty burst into bawling.

Dusty smiled. She
giggled quietly to hersel
f as she placed another plate into the dishwater
. How funny it all seemed now. How ridiculous she must
’
ve looked to her mother all wrapped up in Ryder
’
s shirt and reeking of skunk.

There was a tap on
the window in front of her. Drawn from her reminiscing,
she looked up to see none other than her fellow skunk
-
mate
of long ago
looking at her through the window.

Flicking water at the windo
w with her fingers, she called
,
“
You scared the waddin
’
out
t
a me!
”

He smiled, shrugged
,
and told her,
“
Your daddy wants y
a
out here. And where
’
s Feller gone to?
”

“
Do I look like his mama?
”
she asked, trying to rid her face of the smile still there
plain upon it
.

“
No, ma
’
am…you do not!
”
he chuckled, tipping his hat to her
. He winked
before turning and
sauntering
toward the barn.

Dusty dried her hands on her apron and put them to her cheeks to cool the blush. She hated the way he made her feel! It would be her undoing if she didn
’
t get a handle on it.
H
is wink and smile had delighted her so
she’d
felt
the same as
she had on that first
skunk-stinking
night all those yea
rs ago—
when her only companion had been
her
champion.

Her
mother had tucked
Dusty
in
the barn for the night
as comfor
tably as possible—
on a nice bed of straw with an old blanket she didn
’
t mind getting ruined with the odor of skunk.
Moments later, Ryder had sauntered in. T
he whining of the other
ranch hands
in the bunkhouse ove
r the detestable odor about him had forced
Ryder
to
the barn
too.
Dusty
remembered how he
’d looked that night—so handsome and strong—and tired to boot.

“
Make sure she stays warm, Ryder,
”
Elly Hunter
told the young man.
“
And thank y
a
for offering to stay out here so the smell won
’
t drive everyone
else out
.
”

“
You
’
re welcome, ma
’
am,
”
Ryder mumbled as Dusty began to
weep
quietly.

“
I love you, peach,
”
her mama whispered
. She bent and
kiss
ed
Dusty
lovingly on the forehead.
“
It
’
s a fine, brave, and kind thing you
’
re doin
’
by sleepin
’
out here for a few nights so things don
’
t smell inside.
”