Dusty Britches (8 page)

“
You done good by
your
girl in bringin
’
that boy back, Hank,
”
Raynetta told him.
“
She needs to close that book and start over.
”

“
I know,
”
Hank admitted.
“
I just worry that…that the book is too good…too interesting…too perfect for her to
let go of
.
”

“
Closin
’ a book
don
’
t mean y
a
burn it, Hank. It just means y
a
can start readin
’
it again…that
’
s all.
”

Hank smiled down at Raynetta.
“
You
’
re a wise woman, Miss Raynetta McCarthy. A wise woman indeed.
”

Raynetta smiled up at him.
“
You
’
d be surprised at how unwise I truly am, Hank,
”
she told him.

Hank shook his head.
“
I doubt that. But it is unwise for y
a
to keep yourself out this late. You make sure Ryder gets y
a
home safe, and don
’
t stay away so long this time. You
’
re welcome here any minute of the day.
”

“
Thank you, Hank,
”
Raynetta mumbled.

Hank Hunter watched the wagon leave, Ryder at the lines and Raynetta at his side in her racy purple dress. She was a b
eauty, that Raynetta McCarthy—a
s cute as she
’d always been. She d
idn
’
t look all that much different from when he
’
d been a young cowhand himself on her daddy
’
s farm. Hank stood watching them go, wondering why a little gal as pretty as Raynetta had never married.

H
e looked back toward the house. He watched as the light in Dusty
’
s room got brighter, indicating she
’
d lit her lamp and turned it up. His heart ached for her. And yet, at the same time, he was angry with her. Why had she let life beat her down so? It never truly seemed to be part of her nature. That yell
ow
Cash Richardson! He
’
d like to wring that boy
’
s neck! It hadn
’
t been the same with Ryder. Dusty was fourteen
,
and the ranch was in trouble. But Cash!

Hank turned back to the pi
t. Feller was still cleaning up,
Becca alongside him as ever. The other hands all looked done in.

“
You boys get bunked in for the night. It
’
s been a long, long day
,
and tomorrow ain
’
t gonna be any shorter,
”
he announced.
“
Leave
it
for tomorrow, Feller,
”
he said.
“
It ain
’
t gonna run away while we sleep.
”

Becca walked to him, smiling as ever, and threw her arms around his waist.
“
I
’
m so glad you
’
re back, Daddy,
”
she said as she leaned up, kissing him soundly on the cheek.

“
Me too, darlin
’
,
”
he chuckled.
“
Now you get to bed. It
’
s late. Dusty
’
ll need some help with breakfast in the mornin
’
.
”

“
Yes, Daddy,
”
she said, releasing him and heading toward the house.

Hank looked up into the night sky.
A million stars winked
back at him
,
and he inhaled deeply of the clear night air.

“
What more could a man ask for, Feller?
”
he sighed as Feller
walked over, folded his arms across his chest, and looked up into the same dazzling sky. “
Two purty daughters, hard work, land, air, and the sky. What more could a man want?
”

“
Love of a good woman, maybe?
”
Feller mumbled.

Hank looked to Feller, puzzled.
“
Already had that myself, boy. I figure it
’
s way past your turn though.
”

Feller chuckled.
“
Yep. I guess I ain
’
t the lovable kind.
”
Feller looked to Hank and added,
“
But you…ain
’
t nothin
’
would please Elly more than to be up there in
h
eaven and a
-
lookin
’
down to see you havin
’
someone to love again, Hank.
”

Hank smiled at the memory of his little wife. He
’
d
loved her more than life itself. I
t had nearly killed him to lose her. He often wondered if he would
’
ve just shriveled up and died
alongside Elly—
if it hadn
’
t been for his girls.

“
You
’
re a fine one to talk, Feller. Got all the advice in the world for everybody but yourself, don
’
t y
a
?
”

“
Yep,
”
Feller admitted.

Hank watched the stars twinkling. He liked knowing Elly was safe with the angels. And the thought struck him again
—
Raynetta McCarthy was a sweet
-
lookin
g
little gal.



Dusty sat on the bed brushing out her hair when Becca knocked on the door.
“
Can I come in, Dust?
”
she asked, entering without waiting for a response.

“
Becca, what
’
re y
a
knockin
’
for?
”
Dusty asked, trying to sound irritated.
“
You
’
re gonna come in whether or not I
’
m buck naked!
”

Instantly
,
Becca was sittin
g on the bed next to Dusty—
eyes as wide as supper dishes and as curious as any old maid gossip.
“
How do you feel, Dust?
”
she asked.

“
What are y
a
talkin
’
about, Becca? I swear you send me into fits.
”
Dusty knew darn well what Becca was t
alking about. But the fact was—
she didn
’
t want to talk about it.

“
I nearly fainted dead away when he turned around and I saw who it was! How can you be so calm? He
’
s…he
’
s fantastic! More fantastic than he was when he was here before! How can y
a sit there so calm
and
—”

“
Because I am calm,
”
Dusty lied.
“
That was so long ago, Becca
.
I can hardly remember what all went on.
”

Becca
’
s smile
and excitement were squelched—
completely. She slowly
stood,
hurt and disappointment evident on her
pretty
face.
“
Why do you lie?
”
she asked.
“
Why do you shut me out? You
’
re my sister
—m
y only sister and the only person I can talk to! And you slam the door on me at every turn.
”

“
Becca, I
’
m sorry,
”
Dusty began. She had been cold, unfeeling, r
ude. She regretted
it—
as she always did when she did it.

“
No,
”
Becca whispered.
“
Nevermind. I
’
m tired of tryin
’
, Dusty. I
’
m tired of never havin
’
anybody to talk to.
”

“
You talk all the time, Becca. You got every
man
on the ranch eatin
’
outta your hand. What do y
a
need me for?
”
Dusty w
as building up the wall again—t
h
e strong, impenetrable wall, the
wall
keeping
her from feeling.

“
What
do
I need you for?
”
Becca asked
,
completely dejected.
“
After all, you ain
’
t Mama. You don
’
t have to listen to my concerns, my fears…my heartache. Now do you?
”
She turned and began to leave.

“
What could you possibly know about heartache?
” Dusty asked. Emotion caused her voice to falter,
betraying her feelings.

Becca turned
looking back at her,
the all
-
too
-
familiar tears already streaming
over
her
cheeks
.
“
A lot more than y
a
think, Dusty. Don
’
t think you own the only broken heart in the world.
” She left,
slamming the door behind her.

Dusty
released a heavy sigh
and fought back her own tears. Then, shaking her head
with discouragement
, she blew out the flame in her lamp and crawled into bed. The night was unusually warm
,
and she felt uncomfortable even with
the weightlessness of the cotton nightgown she wore. She closed her eyes, intent on sleep. It had been a long day
,
and breakfast came early.

But as she lay in bed, all she could see in her mind
’
s eye was that danged Ryder Maddox. The way he smiled, the way he walked, the smooth,
deep intonation of his voice—t
he way he put
on his hat
, the way he rolled up his shirtsleeves. The boy had become a man, but the man had retained so many things
belonging
to the boy.
He
’
s beautiful
,
she thought, angrily turning to her side and hugging her pillow.

She tried to force her mind onto other roads of contemplation. Miss Raynetta
’
s purple dress had been quite lovely. Wha
t a sight she had been—
screeching at the top of her lungs atop her runaway wagon! Dusty smiled at the thought and scolded herself for finding any amusement in the woman
’
s misfortune. And then the memory of Ryder Maddox
“saving”
Dusty
’
s own
“bacon
,
”
as he had put it
,
snuck in. In that brief moment when he
’
d grabbed her and thrown her out of harm
’
s way, her heart had leapt with delight at his touch! And then he
’
d remarked about the dirt mark on the back of her skirts.
How dare he!
she thought. He most definitely must
’
ve been looking at her seat in order to notice such a thing.