Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure
Dusty remained silent and simply smiled at her friend as they sat enjoying the shade on the porch together.
Evening lingered. A
s
Dusty
washed dishes,
she
gazed out the kitchen window to where
Feller, Ryder
,
and Ruff
stood around
the fire pit with the others
. Everyone had finished their dinner and was gather
ed outside around the pit
as usual. It had been such a long time since Dusty had joined everyone for the
traditional
evening talk
.
Lingering around the fire pit had
been near habit at the ranch for as long as she could remember
. She
longed to go out—
to sit with Becca
,
her father
,
and the others and listen to stories and talk about life and the world.
Still, to do so
would be a risk.
To do so
would leave her too open to feeling.
Ryder and Feller stood listening to something Ruff was
saying
. Ryder stood with his arms folded across his chest, his feet planted firmly apart, nodding his head as he listened. Suddenly, he threw his head back, breaking into laughter
. T
he rhythmic bounce of Feller
’
s shoulders told Dusty that whatever Ruff had said had ended in humor. Dusty didn
’
t even notice the heavy sigh
escaping
her lungs as she watched Ryder slap Ruff on the shoulder before sauntering over to take a seat on one of the giant logs around the fire. It
was a small
fire—s
mall ones
in the early spring and summer,
bigger ones in the fall. Looking down at
the plate she was washing
, she was unaware of the smile
breaking
across her face as another memory
rinsed over her
.
Her da
ddy had brought home a new kitten
for Becca and Dusty one sunny s
ummer afternoon. Dusty was ten—
she
’
d never forget it. It was the same summer her daddy had hired Ryder on
,
and he
’
d only been with them a couple of months. Dusty and her sister had been absolutely beside themselves with delight over the kitten. It was all black
,
except for a few white markings on its backside. Dusty shook her head at the memory of how she and Becca had unintentional
ly tortured the kitten all day,
cradling it in their arms like a mother would a newborn baby and never putting it down.
“
Put that poor creature down, girls!
”
Elly Hunter
called from the front porch. Dusty could still see her mama standing on the porch,
drying her hands on her apron,
the skirt of her blue calico dress
dancing
in
the soft breeze.
“
Oh, but, Mama,
”
Dusty whined,
“h
e
’
s our baby!
”
Their mother laughed, her smile
as beautiful as an angel’s—
her laughter like the music of heaven.
“
He
’
s gonna run off and not come back if you don
’
t give him his space,
”
she told them.
She smiled. “
Now put him down
,
and find somethin
’
else to do!
”
Becca relented and
released the small kitten, who, in its desperation to escape,
nearly flew
as it bounded off
toward the creek. After shaking her head, knowing full well that as soon as she went back inside the girls would be off to find the kitten again, Dusty
’
s mother blew them a kiss, turned
,
and disappeared into the house.
“
Come on, Becca!
”
Dusty whispered.
“
Let
’
s go find him!
”
Becca giggled and nodded
,
and both girls lit out for the creek.
“
What if he trees himself?
”
Becca asked.
“
We
’
ll never be able to climb up high enough to get him.
”
“
Ryder will get him for us,
”
Dusty assured her. After only a few weeks, Dusty had confidence in the fact that Ryder Maddox would do whatever she asked him.
Carefully
,
the girls combed the bushes and trees growing along the creek bank, but there was no sign of the cat. After a
while, Becca lost interest in hunting for the elusive feline.
Sighing heavily, she whined,
“
I
’
m tired of lookin
’
for that ol
’
cat. He
’
s hid too good. We
’
ll never find him.
”
Dusty sighed herself but with irritation.
“
You can
’
t give up that easy, Becca. He
’
s here somewhere!
”
Becca stood looking around, having given up in spite of her sister
’
s encouragement. Suddenly, however, she exclaimed,
“
I think I see him! Over by the barn!
”
Dusty turned and looked to where her sister was pointing.
“
He couldn
’
ta gotten by us that easy, Becca,
”
she told her sister.
“
We would
’
ve seen him
,
and I don
’
t see nothin
’
over there.
”
“
I
’
m tellin
’
you I do!
”
Becca argued.
“
You can waste your time over here! But I
’
m gonna look by the barn.
”
“
Fine,
”
Dusty sighed, with an air of great superiority.
“
But if I find him, I
’
m playin
’
with him first.
”
“
Fine,
”
Becca mumbled, angrily storming off.
Several moments passed, and Dusty, all the more determined to find the missing cat, was looking so diligently in the bushes she didn
’
t hear Ryder approaching until he was standing right behind her.
“
Whatcha lookin
’
for?
”
he asked.
Dusty gasped and, putting her hand to her chest to calm her startled heart, turned to face him.
“
You scared the waddin
’
out
t
a me, Ryder!
”
she scolded.
Ryder
’
s face immediately broke into an amused grin, as it more often than not did whenever Dusty found herself face
-
to
-
face with him.
“
Sorry,
”
he apologized with a chuckle.
“
What
’
re you rootin
’
around for?
”
“
That kitty Daddy brung home,
”
Dusty answered.
“
I sure hope he hasn
’
t treed himself.
”
“
I
’
ll fetch him down for you if he has,
”
Ryder mumbled, looking up into the branches of the tree beneath which they stood.
Dusty smiled with secr
et delight. She knew he would—e
ven without him having to say it.
“
What
’
re y
a
doin
’
over here anyhow
?”
Dusty asked the handsome
cow
boy.
“
Your daddy sent me to the house for lunch,
”
he answered, looking back to her.
“
Saw you nosin
’
around in the bushes and thought I
’
d see if y
a
wanted to come in for lunch with me.
”
Dusty smiled at him. His eyes were so warm
! She
wanted to wrap herself up in their
inviting
color.
“
You gotta girl in town yet, Ryder?
”
she asked bluntly.
He burst into laughter. I
t took him a moment before he drew in a deep breath and, shaking his head, sighed
.
“
And if I do?
”
Dusty suddenly felt very irritated that he didn
’
t assure her he did not have h
is fancy set on a girl in town. “
Who is she?
”
she asked.
“
Who?
”
he asked teasingly.
Dusty rolled her eyes
with impatience
.
“
The girl in town you
’
ve set your fancy on?
”
“
Why do you wanna know?
”
he asked her.
“
You gonna blab it all over?
”
“
No,
”
Dusty truthfully told him.
“
I was just wonderin
’
.
”
Then, without even knowing why, she blurted out,
“
You ever kiss her yet?
”
Again Ryder chuckled and shook his head.
“
Now I don
’
t see how that
’
s any a your business, Miss Britches.
”
“
What
’
s it like?
”
Dusty asked him
—t
hough she really didn
’
t want to know. Or did she?
“
What
’
s what like?
”
he grumbled, feigning innocence.
“
Kissin
’
.
”
Ryder grimaced and wrinkled up his nose.
“
Why
’
re you askin
’
me this kind a thing, girl? You
’
re only ten years old. Ain
’
t nothin
’
you should be worryin
’
about yet.
”
“
I
’
m ne
arly eleven,” she corrected him
. It had hurt her when he
’
d reminded her of her youthfulness.
At that moment there was a rustling in one of the bushes nearby. Too close to tears from hurt feelings to want to continue talking to Ryder, Dusty tu
rned to the bush. “There he is…
that sorry little cuss!
”
she mumbled.
“
What did you say?
”
Ryde
r asked, the pitch of his voice going higher—
an
indication he was surprised by her
vocabulary.
“
He
’
s in there, Ryder!
”
she whispered excitedly.
“
I can see his rear end…all black and white! Yep
!
It
’
s him all right.
”