Dusty Britches (41 page)

“
Well, look at that,
”
Ryder mumbled.

“What?” Dusty asked,
her thoughts having been interrupted.

“
Look at ol
’
Feller,
”
he told her.
“
By dang if he didn
’
t find a gut or two left in his belly after all.
”

“What’
re you talkin
’
about?
”
she asked with irritation
. She didn’t want to admit
that perhaps someone else had been as insightful as she where her sister and Feller were concerned.

Ryder
’
s brow crinkled in puzzlement.
“
You ain
’
t as blind as all that
,
are y
a
?
”
he asked.

“
I have two perfectly good eyes in my head, thank you,
”
she nearly snapped.

“
Really?
”
he taunted.

“
Yes!
”

“
Then why don
’
t you see what I see?
”

“
What do you see?
”

He was taunting her. She knew he was. But what if she were wrong? What if Ryder w
ere
referring to something else? She couldn
’
t take the chance of breaking Becca
’
s confidence where her feelings for Feller were concerned.

“
What do you see?
”
he asked.

Sensing they were
indeed
thinking the same things, Dusty rolled her eyes and looked over to where Feller was leading her sister in a waltz.
“
I see Feller Lance dancin
’
with Becca.
”
She paused and repeated her question.
“
What do you see?
”

Ryder grinned
with mischief,
bent
,
and whispered in her ear,
“
Looooove.
”

Dusty couldn
’
t help grinning with delight as goose bumps broke over
the entire surface of her body. The
sensation of his hot breath on her neck
was divine!
His speaking that particular word alone made her mouth suddenly begin to salivate. She had to consciously keep herself from turning and letting her mouth seek out the savor of his.

Desperate for escape, she glanced once again to Becca and Feller. She was warmed by the rather uncharacteristically fli
rtatious smile on Feller’s face—by the wa
y he held Becca a little more closely than was proper. She was suddenly more aware of her proximity to her own dance partner.

Dusty wanted to dance with Ryder forever. The stomp with Feller and Becca earlier was too fast, too demanding
,
and too much work for her to have
had
even a moment to linger on the thou
ght of the fantasy come to life—the dream come true
of da
ncing with Ryder then. But now—o
h, heavenly now! In his arms again!

She wanted to have teasing
conversations with Ryder—
share in realizations about others with him. When she was a child he
’
d talked with her. All those years before he had to leave, they
’
d had times almost daily when they sat and talked. It
’
s what she
missed most about him. Talking—
listening.

“
You see Feller havin
’
feelin
’
s for Becca?
”
she whispered.

“I didn’t say that,”
he countered, no doubt afraid he
’
d said too much.

“
Yes, you did!
”

“
Hm,
”
he breathed as if he
’
d never said anything at all.

A
sort of giggly joy
rose
in her chest at their friendly banter.
“
You
’
re a pill!
”
she told him.
“
And I
’
m not blind,
”
sh
e whispered. “Nope. Not anymore.”
             

“
Hold on there a minute, brat,
”
Ryder muttered as if he
’
d read her mind.

“
What?
”
she asked, feigning innocence.

“
You got that look in your eye. I know it well enough
,
and
it
’
s makin
’
me a mite nervous,
”
he said.

“
What look?
”
She was elated that something in her had seemed so familiar to him suddenly.
“
I just think it
’
s very interesting that
—”

“
I remember that look. It always shows up a minute before you plunge headfirst into trouble,
”
he chuckled.
“
Last time I seen that twinkle in your eyes, I ended up nearly gettin
’
hanged for lettin
’
you set the ol
’
cow shed on fire tryin
’
to light up a Christmas tree for ol
’
Flossy. Chee! You thought the danged old milk cow was lonely at Christmas
’
cause her calf had died that spring and
—”

“
I
’
m not gonna set anything on fire,
”
she told him. She
’
d forgotten about the Christmas tree for the ailing cow in the old shed. How she ever talked Ryder into that
,
she
’
d never been able to figure.

“
Poor ol
’
Flossy,
”
Ryder began, pitching his voice high and trying to imitate a fourteen
-
year
-
old girl he
’
d once known.
“
 
‘
She
’
s just beside herself ever since she lost that calf last spring. I just know a Christmas tree all her own would cheer her up! Pleeeeaaaase, Ryder! Help me put candles on a tree in the shed where Daddy
’
s got her hol
e
d up. I promise I
’
ll be careful!
’
”
He finished his imitation of her and rolled his eyes.

Dusty giggled, that very strange, almost forgotten sensation she
’
d only recently begun to experience again.
“
I can
’
t believe you let me do that!
”

“
Ah, you run me like an old dog back then,
”
he mumbled, smiling down at her. The music stopped, and he caressed her cheek for a moment with the back of his hand.
“
Didn
’
t you?
”

She wanted to beg him at that moment,
Please love me. Give me another chance.
But she just forced a smile, hiding her heartache.

“
Folks! Now settle down, folks! Settle down,
”
the lead fiddler shouted. With regret at having to end their interlude, Dusty turned her attention from Ryder to the
fiddler
.
“
Now…this here
’
s the Fourth
of July!” Everyone clapped, hollering with good nature. W
hen Dusty glanced up at Ryder
,
he winked, delighting her to the very core of her being. She watched him as he put his pinkies at the corners of his mouth and whistled in celebration.
“
And on the Fourth a July we always have us some fine fireworks at ten o
’
clock, now don
’
t we?
”
Again there was shouting and whistling.
“
But
’
fore we do…there
’
s dancin
’,
and there
’
s gotta be fun and games! Ain
’
t that right?
”
Everyone shouted in agreement.
“
So, all you young folk, single ones that is…you all get t
ogether here outside the barn. T
ime to pack
’
em in!
”
The giggling of all the young unmarried girls in the county nearly outdid the sly chuckling of all the young unmarried men.
“
Everybody else
—l
et
’
s keep the dancin
’
goin
’
!
”

“
Come on then, Miss Britches,
”
Ryder chuckled, taking Dusty
’
s hand and pulling her toward the group of unmarried men and women gathering just outside the barn door.

“
No, no, no,
”
Dusty argued as Miss Raynetta, appearing from nearby, took hold of her
free
hand and began dragging her toward the others as well.
“
I…I…I don
’
t want to…
”
Although her intentions to un
earth
her soul were sincere, the application of doing so was proving difficult, near to impossible at every turn
.

“
Of course you want to!
”
Ryder and Miss Raynetta exclaimed simultaneously
. Be
fore Dusty could argue further
,
she found herself pushed into the group.

“
All right! All right! Now simmer down!
”
Maudie Phillips was saying.
“
Everybody know how to play?
”
There rose up a general
noise of
confirmation.

“
Oh, no! I can
’
t do this!
”
Dusty
exclaimed under her breath. She
turned around, needing escape.

“
You done a jig with the whole county a
-
lookin
’
on, Dusty,
”
Ryder stated as she ran smack into him
as she tried to flee. “Believe me…
you can pull this one off.
”

“
Um,
”
she paused. Suddenly her innards were trembling at being so close to him.
“
No, actually. Just spottin
’
Becca. Makin
’
sure she was
—”

“
Ah, come on. Be a sport, Miss Hunter,
”
he dared. Dusty didn
’
t like being dared. It ignited her temper
,
and she had a horrid habit of not backing down.
“
I mean,
”
he continued,
“
what harm could it do? You might have a little fun…and that ain
’
t gonna kill y
a
. No matter what y
a
think.
”

“
Maudie, you
’
re it!
”
Miss Raynetta hollered.
“
You got five minutes! No more. Get to hidin
’
!
”
Miss Raynetta leaned over to Dusty and whispered,
“
That oughta ruin her chances of latchin
’
onto any man!
”
Dusty
’
s eyes widened in amazement at the woman
’
s
impish
trickery. She watched as Maudie squealed
with delight—n
ot realizing
she’d been had. Maudie
took off running. Dusty knew the whole fun of the game was sneaking around in the dark, hoping to bump into whomever it was you were sweet on.