Dusty Britches (24 page)

When Miss Raynetta released her, Dusty watched a moment as Becca dabbed at the blood
at
the corner of Ryder
’
s mouth. A hot rush of je
alousy suddenly washed over her—
and greatly disturbed her. She thought,
I should be taking care of him.
Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the feeling. Her
gaze
met Ryder
’
s
for a moment. H
is expression was no longer that of anger. His temper had settled
,
and his knuckles bothered him more, no doubt.

“
Let
’
s haul this bunch home, boys,
”
Hank sighed suddenly.
“
Come into town once or twice a month…can
’
t even get supplies without all heck a
-
breakin
’
loose around y
a
,
”
he mumbled as he made for the door.

“
You boys keep somethin
’
cool on them cheeks and fists,
”
Miss Raynetta instructed.
“
And Hank…you make sure that girl knows whose fault this all wasn
’
t! You hear me?
”

“
I hear y
a
, girl! I hear y
a,”
Hank chuckled.

“
Did y
a
put your dress in the wagon, Becca?
”
Miss Raynetta asked as Ryder stood and began to follow Feller out of the shop.
“
I
’
ll have to send Dusty
’
s along later
,
I guess.
”

“I did, ma’am. Thank you so much,”
Becca answered.

Ryder started to
leave the shop but paused behind Dusty, motioning
for her to precede him.

“
Oh. No. You go ahead. I…
”
Dusty stammered uncomfortably.

“
After you,
”
he ordered.
“
I don
’
t want to be accused of not bein
’
a gentleman.
”

“Now s
top that, Ryder
Maddox
!
”
Miss Raynetta scolded, smacking Ryder hard enough on the back of the head that he mouthed,
Ow!
“
What
do
you want
the girl to do?” she continued.
“
Drown herself in the pond over guilt?
”

Ryder smiled at Miss Raynetta.
“
Thank you, Miss McCarthy,
”
he said.
R
eaching out and taking hold of Dusty
’
s elbow, he forced her out the door ahead of him. Dusty looked back over her shoulder to see Miss Raynetta wink encouragingly.

You thank him
, Miss Raynetta mouthed authoritatively.
He deserves it.
With another wink
,
she waved to the others as they mounted their horses or climbed into the wagon.

“
You all right, honey?
”
Dusty
’
s father asked as
Dusty
settled down next to him on the
seat
. When she didn
’
t answer right away, he took her chin in
one roughened
hand and forced her to look at him.
“
I mean, really? You all right?
”

Dusty nodded and fought the urge to shrug off her sister
’
s comforting arm
around her shoulders
.

The wagon ride home seemed long and tiring. Periodically the hands would burst into laughter
,
and Dusty caught bits of their conversation.

“
He
’
ll have a shiner for weeks!
”
Guthrie chuckled.

“
I hope so,
”
Ryder said.
“’
Cause I sure as heck
’
ll look like somethin
’
the dog upchucked for at least that long.
”

“
Ah, come on now!
”
Feller added.
“
You see the way them town women was a
-
swoonin
’
every which way when you come a
-
walkin
’
into the dress shop after the go
-’
round? They
’
ll be a
-
swoonin
’
still come the Fourth
.”

“
That Miss Raynetta,
”
Dusty
’
s father mumbled unexpectedly
,
“s
he
’
s a pistol, ain
’
t she?
”

“
Well,
”
Becca began,
“
I don
’
t know if I
’
d call her a pistol exactly, D
addy…b
ut she
’
s a dear, dear soul. I wonder why she never married.
”

Hank shrugged his shoulders
,
and Dusty didn
’
t hear any of the conversation her sister and father
shared
on the way home from town. All she could think about was suppressing the morbid delight
rising
in her each time she th
ought of Ryder hitting Cash—
laying him out on the ground.

The rest of the late afternoon and suppertime were pretty solemn around the ranch
. Dusty felt very uncomfortable
when Ryder, sitting down for his evening meal, unconsciously let a groan slip from his throat
. The grimace on his handsome face
remind
ed
her, yet again, what physical discomfort he
had endured on her behalf—
was still enduring
. Not that she needed reminding—it
was all she could think about. For every moment of that day following the incident in town
, she thought of nothing else—r
epulsion at the thought of those terrible men a
nd their intentions toward her—i
rritation at C
ash Richardson’s cowardice and having ever been
mildly attracted to him.
Still
, it was the guilt mingled with delight she felt each time her mind reviewed Ryder
’
s coming to her rescue
,
so powerfully and without pause
,
that confused her most.
What an odd sensation it was—t
o feel completely guilty that the man she…that a man she was attracted to
,
and the others, would sacrifice their physical health for the sake of her honor and safety.
Ryder had always been that way—
Feller too. Her father as well, for that matter. But her father and Feller were more inclined to try talking first
,
as opposed to using intimidation and threats.

So as she went out to the ch
icken house to gather the eggs
, she
considered
her feelings
—the emotions so boiled together within her—and
she thought about Ryder. She could still hear her mother
—almost hear her mother’s voice
giving Ryder a talking
-
to about hi
s quick temper and flying fists,
where wrong and right were concerned.

“Ryder
,
”
Elly Hunter
began
,
“
you are gonna have to learn when to jump right in with fists a
-
flyin
’
and when not to!
”
Dusty noticed the way her mother shook her head as she held a cool cloth to Ryder
’
s blackened eye.
“
Y
a
can
’
t go a
-
punchin
’
everybody in the nose all the time
. Ya
gotta learn to try some other methods!
”

Dusty and Becca sat on the kitchen floor, their legs folded, their chins resting snugly on their fists as they watched their mama clean up the cuts and bruises on Ryder
’
s face. One of the drifters her daddy had hired to help bring in the field crops had said something disloyal about Dusty
’
s fa
mily. After telling the man to “
take it bac
k”
and being met with firm belligerence, Ryder had jumped on the man, both fists flying, and taken some hard hits himself before finally beating the man enough that Feller jumped in and pulled Ryder off him. Of course, Hank and Elly Hunter didn
’
t allow fighting among their hands, but when Ryder told Hank what the man had said, the drifter was sent to drifting
,
and Ryder got off with
only
a firm reprimand from Dusty
’
s father.

“
I know it, Mrs. Hunter,
”
Ryder mumbled as Dusty
’
s mama dabbed at his bleeding lip with a wet cloth.
“
I tried talkin
’
to him. I did! But he just made me so darn mad that I
—”

“
I understand, Ryder,
”
Elly
said
,
smiling.
“
And, in reality, I should thank you for defendin
’
us the way y
a
did.
”

“
What did he say, Mama?
”
Dusty asked. Her curiosit
y burned
so hot that she could hardly stand it.

“
Nothin
’
that you
’
re old enough to be hearin
’
,
”
her mother told her.

She k
new that would be the end of it.

It was obvious from Ryder
’
s behavior in town he still battled a temper
easily
provoked when someone was treated badly. She smiled, recognizing something else about
him that
hadn
’
t changed much in five years.
Still,
Ryder had taken her mother
’
s advice and worked on other ways of defending truth and right.

As she left the chicken house, she headed toward the barn to put the eggs in the egg bin. She smiled
,
remembering the first time
Ryder had
tried
something other than fighting
and how well it had worked
—t
hat Fourth of July picnic when s
he’d been fourteen and worn the new
dr
ess her mother had made for her
but never altered.
Her mother hadn’t had time to alter
the on
e flaw in the blue calico dress—the dress
Dusty
Hunter
would never forget!

The Fourth of Jul
y picnic almost five years ago—nope,
Dusty
would never forget that night! Yet
as her mind began to travel back again, she stepped out of the barn
hearing voice
s
—voices
that made her stop dead in her tracks. Stepping back into the barn, she hid in the darkness as Ryder, her father
,
and the other hands stood just outside talking.

“
Miss Dusty looked
’bout
like she wanted to shrivel
up and die today in town,”
Ruff noted.

“
She don
’
t take to bein
’
noticed,
”
her father told them.
“
And, boy
,
oh
boy, did she get noticed today.”