Relentless (5 page)

One Week Later

“Oh, Dusty, you look so pretty in that dress!” Francie told her friend as she watched Dusty standing before the mirror in her bedroom wearing the borrowed turquoise gown.

“I feel pretty, too—for the first time in ages—” Dusty admitted. “Are you sure it’s all right if I wear your gown tonight?”

“Of course, it is! I’m just thrilled it fits you so well,” Francie insisted, delighted that Dusty was in town and would be able to attend the dance. It wasn’t often Dusty and her father managed to get back in time for the social events of Canyon Springs. True, they had to head out again the following day, but at least her friend could have fun tonight.

Dusty had been wearing her pants and work shirt, as usual, when she’d first come to the house for a visit, and Francie, good friend that she was, had insisted Dusty come to her room and pick out one of her dresses to wear.

Dusty stared at her own reflection in the mirror
once more and then looked at her friend and grinned. “You know, I actually feel like a girl again—even with the short hair—” She twirled about, enjoying the feel of the skirt flaring out around her. She rarely bothered to wear a dress anymore. The only time she did was when she and her father happened to be in town on a Sunday and she got to go to church. The simple dress she wore then was nothing like the gown she had on now. The lovely turquoise confection had a scooped neckline and yards of lace trim.

“You are a girl, and don’t you ever forget it!” her friend scolded, and they both laughed.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had the chance to dress up—” Dusty turned to get an even better view of the stylish gown.

“Well, this is your big night. We’re going to have a good time.”

“I know.”

“I just wish you were in town more.”

“I do, too, but my father wants me to stay with him.”

Francie understood, but knew it was a difficult life for her friend. “I’m just thankful that you haven’t had any trouble on your trips.”

“Oh, we’ve run into trouble, but Papa’s one of the best drivers around. He can handle just about anything. Why, just last week one of the wheels was damaged, and we almost tipped over.”

Francie gasped at the thought of Dusty sitting on the driver’s bench when the stage started to go over. “What did you do?”

“I held on real tight,” Dusty answered, managing a grin even as she remembered the terror of the moment, “and Papa straightened it out. No one was hurt. Some of the passengers were a little shaken up, but they got over it.”

“You are so brave. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’m my father’s daughter.”

“Your mother would be proud of you.”

For a moment, Dusty was quiet. “I hope so.”

“She would be,” Francie reassured her and gave her a quick hug.

Dusty started to tell her that the stage would be carrying a big payroll when they left in the morning and that her father had even hired an extra man to ride along with them, but she decided against it. The fewer people who knew about the money they were transporting, the better.

“Well, let’s forget all about you riding shotgun and think about you dancing tonight.”

“Riding shotgun might be easier.”

Francie laughed, then paused to study Dusty thoughtfully. “Now, we need to find you a necklace to wear with that gown.”

“Jewelry?”

“Of course! We need just the right finishing touch to your outfit.”

“I guess so,” Dusty agreed. Then she asked a bit self-consciously as she glanced back at her mirror image and grimaced a bit at the sight of her shortcropped tresses, “Do you think any of the ladies will say something about my hair?” She knew how disapproving the town’s matrons could be.

“Not if we fix it up real pretty—”

“But how? It’s so short—”

“I’ve got an idea. Sit down for a minute,” Francie directed, pointing to the chair in front of her small vanity.

Dusty did as she was told and waited while her friend went to open one of her dresser drawers.

“This should do it,” Francie said with confidence as she took out a length of white ribbon along with some hairpins. She grabbed her brush and comb and went to work. A few minutes later, she stepped back to critically study her creation. She’d tied a fashionable bow out of the ribbon and had artfully pinned it in the back of Dusty’s hair, so it appeared she had longer hair that she was wearing styled up. “What do you think?”

“I don’t believe it—” Dusty stared at her own reflection and smiled. “It won’t come loose on me, will it?”

“I pinned it up as best I could. As long as you don’t do anything too wild tonight, it should stay in.”

Dusty impulsively got up and gave her friend a big hug. “You’re right. We are going to have a good time! And the ladies are going to think I look most proper, thanks to you.”

“They’re going to be glad to see you. They often ask me about you and want to make sure you’re all right.”

Relief swept through Dusty, and she was smiling again. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed any of the social activities in town.

Francie went on, “Now, let’s get you a necklace and a pair of shoes—”

Dusty laughed out loud as she lifted up her skirt to reveal her work boots. “You don’t like me wearing these with the gown?”

“Nobody would see them, but I don’t think you’d be too comfortable trying to dance in them.”

“I could do it,” she teased.

“I’m sure you could, but just for tonight, I want you to wear a pair of my shoes and be a lady from head to toe—”

“Oh, all right,” Dusty agreed.

They were laughing again as they set about picking out a pair of shoes for her. They could hardly wait for the evening to come.

A short time later as they both put the finishing touches on their appearances, Dusty went to stand in front of the mirror.

“Do you think my father will recognize me when he shows up?” She had grown so accustomed to thinking of herself as her father’s “kid,” the girl staring back at her in the mirror amazed her.

Papa had told her he would meet her at the Randolph house and they would all go over to the social together.

“I think we’ll find out real soon. He should be showing up anytime now,” Francie said. “This look is definitely a change for you, that’s for sure.” She admired the way the gown fit her friend and the sparkle of the necklace they’d picked out that set off the demure neckline of the dress. “You’re probably going to have all the boys chasing you tonight.”

“Even the new banker?” Dusty teased. Francie had mentioned that she thought him most handsome, so she knew her friend was interested in the young man.

“He’d better not!” Francie exclaimed, giving her friend a daring look. “I’d hate to have to fight you over him.”

“Dressed like this, I’m not sure I could take you on,” Dusty laughed. “What did you say his name was?”

“His name is Rick Washburn and he is so handsome.”

“Have you gotten to know him very well?”

“We’ve only had the chance to talk a few times, but tonight may just be the night.”

Francie’s mother appeared in the doorway then. “Ladies, it’s time to leave. Your fathers are waiting for you in the parlor.” She smiled warmly at Dusty. “You both look absolutely beautiful, and, Dusty, I love how you fixed your hair.”

Coming from Mrs. Randolph, the compliment was high praise. “Thank you, but I didn’t do it. Francie did.”

“Well, it looks very pretty.” Marlene Randolph gave them each a quick kiss on the cheek and ushered them from the room to meet their fathers. “Now, remember. You’re to behave like perfect ladies tonight.”

Both girls agreed demurely as she led them into the parlor.

“Well, gentlemen, we’re ready to go,” Mrs. Randolph announced.

Charley and Fred Randolph had been deep in conversation, and they looked up as the women came into the room.

The sight of Dusty all dressed up, and looking so much like her mother, stunned Charley. He hurt deep inside as he realized how much he still missed his wife. He knew he always would. Somehow, he managed to keep his pain hidden from his daughter as he gave her an approving smile. “You look lovely.”

“Do you really think so?” Dusty asked, smoothing her skirt a bit self-consciously.

“Absolutely,” he assured her.

“We’ve got us some fine-looking women,” Fred remarked, going to kiss his wife.

“Yes, we do.”

“I think we’re going to have our hands full making sure the boys behave themselves around our girls tonight,” Fred said as he escorted his wife and daughter from the house.

Charley and Dusty followed them as they headed for the town hall where the dance was being held.

The hall was crowded and the musicians were just starting up a new tune as they went in.

“I’m claiming you for your first dance, otherwise I may not get the chance,” Charley told Dusty as he guided her directly out onto the dance floor.

She was laughing as he squired her about.

Francie stood with her parents at the side of the room, watching them.

“Well, who wants to dance with me first?” Fred asked, looking between his two lovely ladies.

“I do, Papa,” Francie quickly answered. “I can’t let Dusty have all the fun.”

They joined the others on the dance floor, leaving Marlene smiling in delight at their father/ daughter dance.

When the tune ended, the girls started off to visit with some of their friends, while Fred claimed his wife for the next dance.

Dusty and Francie hadn’t gone far when two hands from a local ranch, Jack Bryan and Steve Wilson, caught up with them.

“Would you ladies like to dance?” they invited.

“We’d love to!” Francie answered for them both.

Never known for her shyness, she took Jack’s arm without hesitation and went with him to join the other couples on the dance floor while Steve claimed Dusty.

“Well, look who’s all dressed up tonight,” Madeline Jones, the blonde and beautiful daughter of the local doctor, said cattily to Caroline O’Hara, one of the other girls from town.

“How did you even recognize her?” Caroline giggled, being equally hateful about Dusty’s appearance. She was Madeline’s closest friend and always agreed with everything she said.

“I know. Why, she almost looks like a girl tonight—instead of a boy. I wonder how long it took her to fix herself up this way?”

“It must have taken hours—or maybe days—”

They shared a sneering look as they watched
Dusty dancing. They were both jealous that Jack and Steve had chosen to dance with other girls.

Charley stood at the side of the room for a while, watching Dusty. He kept his expression carefully guarded, but deep within, his pain grew. He’d hardly attended any social functions since his wife’s death, and he found himself regretting now that he’d come tonight. Unable to bear his loneliness any longer, he sought Fred out and told him that he would be back in a little while. Then he left the hall. He knew that as long as the Randolphs were there, Dusty would be safe.

He headed straight for the saloon.

He had some heavy drinking to do.

“There he is—” Francie whispered to Dusty a short time later, her heartbeat quickening as she caught sight of Rick Washburn.

“That’s your banker?” Dusty asked eagerly as she studied the darkly handsome, well-dressed man.

“Yes,” her friend replied dreamily as she watched him across the room.

“He is good-looking,” Dusty agreed.

“And he’s going to be mine, so don’t go getting any ideas,” Francie declared, staking out her territory.

Dusty only laughed at her friend. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Well, you do look awfully pretty tonight—”

“Thanks to you.”

They shared a laugh together just as their favorite dance—the “ladies’ choice”—was announced.

Dusty looked at her friend encouragingly. “Hurry! Go get your Rick before one of the other girls does!”

“ ‘My Rick’—” Francie repeated. “I like the sound of that.” She didn’t need any more encouragement. She hurried off to claim him for the dance.

Dusty watched as Francie approached the banker. She was delighted to see that he smiled down at her friend and quickly took her up on her offer. She knew Francie was in heaven as she watched her move about the dance floor in his arms. He seemed quite taken with her, and Dusty couldn’t wait to talk to her friend later and hear all the details.

Dusty thought about asking someone to dance, but just then she caught sight of the elderly town matrons seated across the room, watching the couples on the dance floor. Her mother had been good friends with the white-haired, portly Miss Gertrude Stevens so she sought her out for a visit.

“Dusty, darling, it is so good to see you,” Miss Gertrude told her, reaching out to take her hand and draw Dusty down to sit on the seat beside her.

“It’s good to see you, too, Miss Gertrude,” Dusty responded with heartfelt enthusiasm.

“You look very pretty this evening,” the older woman complimented her.

Dusty actually blushed a bit, knowing it was high praise coming from Miss Gertrude. “Thank you. Francie helped me get ready. She did a fine job on my hair, don’t you think?”

“Yes, she did,” Miss Gertrude said approvingly.
“We were all just saying how glad we are that you finally managed to be in town for a dance so we could visit with you. Isn’t that right, Betty?” Miss Gertrude turned to a friend who was sitting on the opposite side of her.

“That’s right.”

“So why didn’t you claim one of these handsome young men for the dance?” Miss Gertrude asked.

Dusty smiled. “Because I wanted to visit with you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

“We’ve been missing you and wondering how you’ve been doing,” Betty put in. “How are you?”

“Papa and I are doing fine.”

“It’s a shame your father can’t find some other way to make a living,” Betty criticized. She was known as a woman who always said what she thought. “It just doesn’t seem civilized for you to be out riding around all the time, dressed like a boy.”

Dusty couldn’t help smiling. Betty didn’t know the half of what went on during the stagecoach runs, and she wasn’t about to tell her. “There are difficult times, but we manage. And, honestly, I can’t imagine my father doing anything else.”