Dusty Britches (63 page)

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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

BOOK: Dusty Britches
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Raynetta watched as Hank turned and closed the barn doors, shutting them in alone. Someone had left a lantern burning on one of the rafters, and Raynetta marveled at how wildly alive Hank

s eyes seemed in the
lowered light—h
ow posses
sive of what he was looking at—
of her!

He turned to her a
nd said, “I’m scared, Raynetta…
more scared than I

ve been in a long, long time. And in a manner I ain

t never been scared before.

He took several steps toward her, causing her to stumbl
e backward—
so intent was he in his sudden appraisal of her.

I been watchin

these youngsters…
the
way they tiptoe

round all proper and slow-like in courtin

each other. I figure…it ain

t for me. Not anymore. I don

t have the time for it.


Hank,

Raynetta began. Even as her heart swelled with hope and elation
,
she suddenly had a vision of Ryder picking Dusty up in his arms
the day before—
disappearing into the very same barn. Still, she feared to dream
,
and she tried to deter him.

It

s in the past. I don

t want your guilt toward me makin

y
a
think y
a
have to…

But her words were lost as he reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of his hand.

He was still so handsome—
even more so in many ways than he

d been all those years ago. His hair, once so perfectly
black, was salt-and-pepper now,
his temples almost completely white.
Yet
his eyes, still as black as the night, were the same and made more appealing somehow
by the wrinkles at the corners—
testaments of years of happy living. His chin was firm and square and just as commanding as it always had been. As he stepped closer to her, taking her face in his hands, Raynetta McCarthy

s heart began to beat so brutally within her chest she gasped several times

her breathing labored in trying to withhold sobbing.


I

m tellin

y
a
this…and I mean it. It

s the truth,

Hank mumbled as he gazed down into her eyes.


What?

she managed to whisper.


Raynetta McCarthy…you

re the most beautiful woman I ever kissed,

Hank told her.

Raynetta smiled at him as a tear trickled down her lovely cheek.

You never kissed me, Hank Hunter.


And I

m a fool for it,

he chuckled, bending toward her.

Yet heartache still ebbed in her bosom—next to hope.
She put her hands softly on his
chest to stall him.

I

m not Elly,

she told him through more tears.


I know that, Raynetta,

Hank whispered and moved again to kiss her. But she turned her face from him.

“I…
I won

t be the same. I won

t be her,

she whispered.


I know, Raynetta,

Hank repeated. Then, taking her face in his hands again, he forced her to face him.

I want to have you, Raynetta. I

m not lookin

for a ghost.

His eyes were moist with tears, but she knew they were
tears for her sake—
not tears over what he

d already loved and lost.

The past ain

t standin

here next to us. All I

m seein

…all I

m wantin

is you.

He bent to kiss her again, but she took his face in her own hands.

I

m not very good at this, I don

t think.


Raynetta,

Hank chuckled, trying to silence her.


I mean…it ain

t like I never kissed anybody before.

Not liking the way that had sounded, she rattled on
.

Not that I

ve kissed a lot or anything! I mean…I haven

t. I mean, I have enough to know how and all…just not a lot. So, I might not
—”

“Hush
up, Raynetta,

Hank chuckled in a low, alluring voice.


All right,

she agreed, dropping her hands from his face.

All right.

Hank kissed her lightly on one cheek
,
and she breathed,

Oh, my goodness.

As Hank Hunter kissed her tenderly, letting his lips linger on her lips for a moment, Raynetta thought she might indeed swoon away. She

d given up o
n her dream of belonging to him—
long, long ago.
Yet
she dared to hope for it once more as his powerful arms wrapped her wa
rmly in his possessive embrace—
further proving his impatience with proper courting as his mouth seized hers in a blazing exercise in passion. Her timidity was vanquished almost immediately
,
and she let her own arms go around him.

Hank Hunter is kissing me
, she thought. And his kiss was more perfect, more deserving of praise in its blissful perfection
,
than even she had ever dreamed. She kissed him in return, unbridled and unashamed of having loved him for so long. His hands caressed her face, her neck, his arms holding her possessively then again. And for all her joy, for all her rapture in living a dream in his arms,
she could not stop the tears—t
ears of joy mingled with disbelief and fear of ending the dream. He eased the intensity of their affectionate exchange and, without releasing her fro
m his embrace, broke their kiss, studying
her face as he brushed away her tears.


I

m not gonna bolt and run, if that

s what you

re thinkin

, Raynetta,

he assured her.

She looked away shyly. It was so unearthly to be in such a situation with him. She began to doubt she was awake.


Dusty
,
for all her tryin

to harden herself up, could see it in my eyes. Can

t you?

S
till she didn’t look at him. Sh
e turned her face toward his.

Can

t y
a
see yourself in my eyes? I do love you,

he whispered without any pause or stammering. And she looked to him. He grinned at her and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

You think you can love a worn
-
out ol

cowhand like me, Raynetta McCarthy?

She breathed a giggle

a sigh of believing what he was telling her.

I

ve loved you my whole entire life.


Good,

Hank mumbled.

Then y
a
think someday soon you

d marry me and we could get busy on that little brother Dusty

s always wanted?

Raynetta burst into tears—
buried her face in her hands for a moment before looking up into his handsome, sincere
,
and loving face and crying,

Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, never wanting to let him go.

 

Dusty
stood outside the barn, perched on an old rain barrel
.
She
brushed the tears from her cheeks
as she peered
in through the barn window.
Miss Raynetta would
make her daddy happy!
There was no doubting it.
Hank Hunter
would love Miss Raynetta
just as
she
’d always dreamed—perhaps even more
.


Shame on you, Miss Britches! Spyin

on Miss Raynetta and her beau!

Ryder

s voice from behind her startled Dusty
,
and she lost her footing on the barrel. Her arms flailed wildly, trying t
o find something to hold on to, but
in the end she lost the balance battle and tumbled off the barre
l—
knocking Ryder to the ground. He chuckled, and she quickly scrambled up from her place on top of him, smoothing her hair and skirt and trying to find some semblance of dignity. He simply la
y
on the ground smiling up at her for a moment before extending his hand in a gesture indicating she should help him to his feet.


Oh, like you need help gettin

up,

she said.
Still,
she reached down and took his hand anyway, yanking hard.
H
e yanked harder
, however,
and before she could regain her balance,
Dusty
was lying on the ground next to him.

You

re a pill!

Dusty exclaimed, sitting up
and
kneeling beside him.


And you

ve turned into quite the little matchmaker, haven

t y
a
now?

Ryder grinned and
put his hands behind his head. It appeared
as if he meant to lie in the grass for some time.


I

m not
gonna
talk to you if you

re gonna be a stinker,

she told him.

He seemed to ignore her and simply said,

You

re gonna have a harder row to hoe with Feller and Becca though.

He raised himself and leaned on one elbow.

I

d be willin

to help y
a
with that one.


Don

t
pretend
y
a
didn

t do nothin

to help that one in there,

she giggled, motioning to the barn.

He chuckled.

Now…what do y
a
want to talk about?

he asked.


What?

she breathed, completely puzzled and yet amused at his lighthearted manner.


Me and you. Let

s talk. What do y
a
want to talk about?

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