Dusty Britches (30 page)

“
You
’
re right,
”
she whispered
,
t
ears streaming down her face again
.
“
And thank you for treatin
’ me so well…
for puttin
’
up with me
,
and for…
”
B
ut her words were lost as she felt his arms go around her, returning her embrace.
She felt him place a firm kiss to
the top of her head
,
and she thought she might melt in a broth of
pure
delirium.

“
I don
’
t suppose,
”
he mumbled,
“
that it would hurt for me to give you one little good
-
bye kiss, now would it?
”

A
s she looked up into his mischievous grin
,
Dusty
’
s heart swelled with anticipation. She loved
his
grin
—the
soft smile that meant Ryder Maddox was up to no good.

“
No. It wouldn
’
t hurt,
”
Dusty assured him
. She didn’t understand—didn’t know—the i
nnocence of youth
didn’t warn her—warn her of
how much it would indeed hurt her.

Taking her face between his strong hands,
Ryder
smiled at her and whispered,
“
You ever been kissed by a boy before, Miss Angelina?
”

“
Not yet,
”
she answered,
mesmerized by his expression. She realized
that
,
if he did kiss her, she still never would
’
ve been kissed…by a boy.

Ryder
’
s smile faded quickly as he caressed her lips softly with one thum
b. He seemed to change his mind,
for he bent toward her and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Disappointment washed over Dusty instantly
. Yet
a moment later, he mumbled something under his breath an instant before he pressed his lips to hers slow
ly, several times in succession—
each time lingering just a little longer. The last time, his lips were slightly parted
,
and he seemed to be repressing
something. Dusty fancied she might actually pass away from the intense delirium his kiss bath
ed her in. She’d never imagined—and she’d imagined a lot—never imagined that when he kissed her, it would be so perfect—so heavenly—
so addicting! Dusty clutched Ryder
’
s wrists as he kissed her once mor
e. He
held her face for a moment
, gazing at
her
with obvious regret
.

“
I do love you, y
a
know. You are the most delicious thing on earth to me,
”
he whispered, kissing her
hard and quick—
before yanking his wrists free of her grasp, rising to his feet
,
and walking away into the night.

Dusty buried her face in her ha
nds and sobbed for a long time—sobbed
until she he
ard her mother calling for her. She
return
ed
to the house to discover Ryder Maddox had ridden away into the night. He didn
’
t wait until morning to leave like the other hands. Ryder Maddox was gone.

“
I know,
”
Dusty admitted again to the infinitely handsome man who stood beneath the waterfal
l with her. Th
e
expression
of
deep
guilt
was mingled with the brown sugar of his
eyes. Ryder had done the only thing he could
do—
ridden away
to look
for work
,
letting the little girl
who
had touched his heart grow up for some other man to have.

Ryder breathed a heavy sigh
. It was
the breath
of relief
—the breath
a soul exhales when someone they
’
ve wronged finally forgives them. He leaned back against the rock wall behind them.

“
You know,
”
he chuckled,
“
I used to wonder what you
’
d look like all grown up.
”

Dusty herself was feeling something besides resentment finally
,
and though she still wanted to lose herself in bitter sobbing over the loss of such a wonderful dream so many years ago, she smiled back at him.
“
Am I what y
a
thought?
”

“No,” he answered. The familiar grin of mischief toyed at the corners of his mouth
. Dusty felt the flutter in her heart at his familiar, beloved expression and fought
wildly
to suppress it.

“
No?
”
she repeated.
“
What did you think I
’
d look like?
”

“
I don
’
t know. I thought you
’
d look exactly the same…only in long skirts.
”

“And I don’t?” she asked—
for now she was curious.
How did she appear to
him?

“
No.
”
His grin broadened then.
“
But I
’
d be willin
’
to bet you don
’
t need no handkerchiefs to fill out your dress now.
”

Dusty smiled for a moment—almost giggled. Yet
melancholy triumphed again.
“
No. I don
’
t use my daddy
’
s hankies anymore.
”
Then, in an attempt to lighten her own mood, she confessed,
“
I wondered what became of you. Did life treat y
a
well after y
a
left?
”
She didn
’
t tell him she had wondered
over him
nearly every moment of her life.

Ryder
’
s smile quickly faded
,
and she wished
she hadn’t asked—
even though it seemed a natural enough question to ask in light of the conversation.

“
Well enough. I worked hard and…got what I deserved, I suppose.
”

Dusty
frowned. Had he been unhappy—a
s unhappy as she had been?

He tipped his head and
studied
her.
“
Now,
”
he began,
“
how am I gonna get you to quit this fist thing y
a
always do?
”
Dusty looked down to see that indeed her hands were clenched tightly
once again
.
“
Though t
wo more as tight as yours might
a helped me out today in town.
”

“
Thank you for that, by the way,
”
Dusty mumbled, ashamed.
“
I…I meant to say that before. I just…
” S
he startled when he reached out and took her fists in his strong hands. She tried to pull away, but he held fast.
“
I…I can
’
t help it. I didn
’
t even know I…
”
she stammere
d.

The
grin
of naughtiness
and the twinkle in his eyes alerted her to his mischief.
“
Y
a
know…I always wanted to come back…find y
a
all grown up…and kiss y
a
right,
”
he confessed unexpectedly.

“
Ryder…I don
’
t have hard feelings toward you,
”
she told him, thinking he still didn
’
t feel forgiven somehow.
“
You don
’
t have to try to heal me
.
I know it
’
s me. It
’
s not you or Cash or anyone else. Y
a
don
’
t have to
—”

“
Oh, don
’
t get me wrong, Miss Britches,
”
he whispered.
“
I owned a lot of guilt where you
’
re concerned…but I
’
m just talkin
’
lighthearted to y
a
now. I always did want to kiss you again when it was more…proper. What do y
a
say? For old times
’
sake? To close the book on all those years ago?
”

Dusty stepped back from him, yet
he held her fists tightly. Her heart hammered
within her bosom
. She couldn
’
t! She couldn
’
t kiss him
.
She
’
d die if she did
—d
rop dead r
ight there behind the waterfall,
if not from a broken heart that never
mended, then from pure ecstasy!
“
I don
’
t think here…with me half
-
dressed and you…
”

“
Let me kiss you, Dusty,
”
he mumbled.
“
F
or old times’ sake. Just once…t
o close that ol
’
creakin
’
door and heal the wounds. All right?
”
His voice had a dreamy, low, provocative tone.

Dusty shook her head—
felt the warm moisture welling in her eyes. She couldn
’
t
!
She couldn
’
t endure the pain of it, the longing, the hurt it would leave
.

“
We used to be friends, me and you. Old friends…that
’
s what we are. Old friends that left scars on each other. Let me kiss you…and not good
-
bye this time. Just…I
’
m sorry, old friend.
”

He stroked her cheek softly with the back of his hand
. He took
her face between his hands
,
caressing her lip softly with his thumb. Immediately Dusty
’
s heart ached with
longing, loss, hurt, fear. H
er hands went to his wrists as she tried to pull away.
“
Ry
der, please,” she begged him, a tear trickling
down her face.
“
I can
’
t let…
”

“
Let me close it, Dusty,
”
he whispered.
“
We both need that.
”

But I don
’
t want you to close it
, she thought. She watched
,
completely unable to move as he moistened his lips with his tongue. He moved his body closer to hers
. Her hands reached
out, pushing gently at his chest to keep him at bay a moment longer.
She could still taste his kiss—
still smell the scent of him from all those years ago. After so long, she still cou
ld feel his arms around her, feel
how
badly it had hurt to lose him—t
o never have had him.

“Ryder,” Dusty whispered. She would beg him next—beg
him to stop.
Yet
with every fiber of her body and so
ul, she wanted him to kiss her—w
anted to be held in his arms, kissed, even ravaged by him! She wanted that fourteen
-
year
-
old girl who had lost her heart so long ago to suddenly grow up into a woman and be able to win her cowboy.