Dusty Britches (38 page)

“
Sure thing, sweetheart,
”
he choked.
“
Just give me a minute, huh?
”

Again Dusty giggled—simultaneously
feeling sorry for him. He looked up and grinned through his pain-stricken frown.

“
You go on and laugh,
honey,
”
he said, struggling to his feet.
“
But you
’
ll be havin
’
a whole lot more sympathy when the day comes and you
’
re
wantin
’
to have my baby.
”
He laughed heartily
when Dusty gasped—when she nearly fell over flat from the
shock
of
the remark.

“
I can
’
t believe
you said that!” she exclaimed. She was mortified—yet oddly
delighted at his inference that someday
she might
have his baby.

“
Yes, y
a
can,
”
he corrected her.
“
Now run off and involve yourself with these nice folks! Try havin
’
some fun for a change, Britches.
”
He limped and
limped
to the tree under which Makenna
stood
pointing upward.

Dusty
stood, leaving
Ryder to help Makenna with her dilemma. There was nothing else to do. She was dazed by the things he
’
d said. For several minutes, she wasn
’
t aware of where she was walking or who had stopped her along the way to chat. The sun seemed brighter, the food tast
ier,
Becca
’
s smile
more radiant.
Furthermore, t
ry as she might to ignore the fact, Dusty
’
s feet f
elt lighter as she walked along—lighter
than they had in
years.

However, late in the afternoon, when the sound of fiddles announced
the start of the barn dance
, the old fe
elings of uncertainty and fear—
the need to hide aw
ay and put up a defensive wall—
began to
overtake her again
.

“
Oh, come on, Dusty! It
’
ll be so much fun!
”
Becca assured her, taking her hand and leading her into the barn.
“
You love to dance!
”

I loved to dance
,
Dusty wanted to correct, but there was no reason to squelch Becca
’
s enthusiasm.

“
You havin
’
fun today,
honey?” her daddy asked, putting a strong
arm around her shoulders. The music started
,
and everyone
began
whooping an
d hollering with delight.
Dusty nodded and forced a smile.
“
Good.
Then y
a
won
’
t mind a
-
beatin
’
the floor a bit with your daddy, now will y
a
?
”
Dusty smiled up at him
. He was so considerate of her—
so de
sperate she should have fun—that she should
find herself again.

“
You know I
’
d love it,
”
she told him, linking her arm through his.

He led her to the floor
,
joining the others in the reel. Dusty thought,
I
’
d forgotten how much fun it could be.
As the dancers wove in and out, Dusty was delighted when Feller smiled at her and winked, obviously enjoying himself. Ryder too was there and winked as they passed. Miss Raynetta was his partner and
was obviously
delighted with his company.

The dancing continued for nearly two hours. Dusty found herself dancing with Cash, and not a harsh word or
irritation
rose within her. She danced with Feller and all the other hands including Ryder, though he never asked her
to dance a waltz
.
It
disappoint
ed
her that he never asked her during a slower, more intimate dance. He waltzed a great deal with Miss Raynetta and several of the elderly ladi
es in the county. Dusty watched,
amazed when she
realized this handsome bachelor—the man
all the g
irls so obviously mooned after—
saved his waltzes for thos
e who needed the most attention. It was
another testament to his good character.

“
Are y
a
havin
’
fun, Dust?
”
Becca asked,
smiling as she stood next to Dusty watching the others dance
.

“
Of course,
”
Dusty assured her.

“
No. I mean, really.
”
Becca was uncertain of the truthfulness of Dusty
’
s answer. And why shouldn
’
t she be? For the past two Fourth
of July
picnics, Dusty
had
spent most of her time sitting in the wagon or
working on the quilts outside—in no way involved
with the socializing and dancing.

“
I
’
m truly having fun, Beck,
”
Dusty told her. There were hard moments sh
e didn’t mention to her sister. F
or example, every time Ryder led a woman other than herself to dance, whether young or old.
Still,
she wouldn
’
t spoil her sister
’
s good spirits.

All of a sudden
,
there arose a hollering and whooping. Becca and Dusty whirled about to join
the
others in looking toward the dance floor.

“
Oh, Dusty! Remember?
”
Becca squealed as she began clapping her hands in time to the music
.
Ryder and Feller began a stomp. They were astoundingly agile! Dusty too laughed as she remembered the two men entertaining her family long ago at the ranch with their stomp routines. Becca squealed with delight in unison with several other females as Ryder and Feller
ignited the crowd’s admiration by leaping into the air. Dropping
smo
othly to the floor to balance, stretched out, on their hands and toes
, they pushed to their feet and continued with very
impressive, fancy, masculinely
awkward footwork.

Dusty was completely mesmerized by the smi
les emblazoned on the men’s faces
. She
was so intent on watching them,
listening to the rhythmic stomping of a barn full of boots
,
that she didn
’
t hear a fiddler shout,
“
 
‘
Turkey
in the Straw,
’
boys! Give us that one!
”

Feller and Ryder stopped dancing as the familiar tune began. Bent over
and
resting their hands on their knees, they panted
and shook their heads
. Feller waved
off the pleas of the fiddlers, but w
hen
the crowd roared with approval, moving
aside to clear
a path between Feller and Ryder,
Becca an
d Dusty,
Becca took Dusty
’
s hand and pulled her toward them.

“
Oh, no!
”
Dusty breathed.

“
Oh, come on, Dusty!
”
Becca pleaded.
“
Remember what fun it was?
”

“
No, I can
’
t!
”
Dusty breathed, horrified at what was happening
—
frightened into planting her feet firmly where she stopped. No sooner had Becca
turned to her—her bright eyes
pleading w
ith desperation, filled with disappointment—
than Feller and Ryder were upon them.

Becca squealed as Feller took her hand and pulled her to the center of the room where the crowd now cheered. Ryder reached out and took Dusty
’
s hand.

“I can’t—
I
can’t remember,” she stammered. She was lying, of course—
looking for any reason to avoid
being involved
.

Ryder quirked a suspicious eyebrow and grinned down at her.
“
Come on now! It
’
ll be fun!
”

“
Get that girl a
-
twirlin
’
!
”
the
lead
fiddler shouted.

Before Dusty knew his intent, Ryder pulled her arm over his head and
hoisted
her onto his shoulder.
He carried her to whe
re Feller and Becca waited,
the crowd cheering them on
all the while
.
He dropped her to her feet next to Feller and Becca.
Dusty knew it was either perform or
be eternally
humiliate
d before
every soul in the county.

“
I
’
m not fourteen years old anymore, Ryder!
”
she scolded.

Still breathing hard from the jig
, he smiled, taking her left
hand in his right and
saying
,
“
And I ain
’
t twenty!
”

The lead fiddler drew his bow slowly over the strings twice. Speeding up the tempo with the following four singular notes, he and the other fiddlers
burst in
to
a rousing rendition of “
Turkey
in the Straw
.
”
Dusty hitched up her skirts and petticoats with her free hand
. She felt as if
something other than her own
consciousness
seemed to
be
tell
ing
her feet what to do. Indeed, she wa
s matching Ryder step for step—
just as she had as a young girl around the fire pit years ago. She glanced over to
see
Becca looking
at her—delirious with exhilaration. Dusty couldn’
t help but smile. The crowd clapped out the b
eat of the tune, men hollered, an
d women squealed with encouragement as the two couples performed a
series of quick turns and steps—just as
they had years before on the same occasion.

I
’
ll never remember it
,
Dusty thought as Ryder passed her to Feller, taking Becca in hand.
“
I can
’
t keep this up!
”
Dusty panted as Feller took her waist and turned her around, pushing her out in front of him as the next series of quick clogging steps began.

His only response was a loud,
“
Ye
-
ha!
”
as she and Becca matched steps.

Ryder and Feller would cha
nge places behind them, she knew—and when she turned around
it was Ryder wh
o put his arm around her waist.
Becca
was now
on her other side and Feller at the far end. They all four stomped out a beat on the barn floor while the music stopped for a moment
to emphasize their steps.
Boom—boom—boom ba ba boom! Ba ba boom—boom—boom ba ba boom!
Dusty thought in her head as the
sound echoed in
her
ears several times before the fiddlers joined in with the final chorus of the song. Ryder twirled Dusty under his arm, rotating himself as he did so, dropping to one knee
,
and pulling her to sit on his other knee as the music ended
. The crowd erupted into shouts,
whistl
es, and compliments.
Dusty
saw
Ryder smiling at her as he brushed a bead of perspiration from his forehead.