Dusty Britches (49 page)

“
Oh, he
’
s out cold,
”
Ryder assured her.
“
I made sure of it. The sheriff can get him when he
’
s done out there.
”

Dusty looked at him and shook her head. Men! Was everything always so trivial in their eyes? Again Ryder chuckled
,
and Dusty scowled at him.

“
I
’
ll have to stitch this one shut, you know.
”

“
I know.
”

“
Then what are you still grinnin
’
about?
”
She had lost any amount of patience she might have possessed.

“
You,
”
came his answer.
“
A
-
scurryin
’
around like a little mother mouse.
”

“
Would you prefer I left y
a
here to get infected and die, writhin
’
in pain and the stench of gangrene stinkin
’
up my kitchen? Maggots eatin
’
out your eyes?
”
She sighed with irritation as he laughed wholeheartedly.

She flung the cloth she
’
d been using to tend to his wounds at him and turned to leave. But he reached out and caught hold of her skirts. She turned to face him indignantly.

“
Now don
’
t go hissin
’
your tail up,
”
he said, smiling and standing up from the chair. He put his hands at her waist and pulled her toward him. The syrup of his eyes sent her heart to pounding a different beat than when she
’
d been scared such a short time before.
“
I was just thinkin
’
…I like playin
’
house with you now a whole lot more than I did when you were little.
”
As Dusty
’
s eyes widened at his flirtatious manner, he added,
“
Well…let
’
s just say…it
’
s a mite different these days.
”

Quickly
,
she swallowed the impulse to throw herself against him, wrap her arms around his neck
,
and draw blissful rapture from his mouth. Instead she calmly stated,
“
I imagine that it is…bein
’
that you
’
re standin
’
here bleedin
’
your life out all over me.
”

“
I ain
’
t bleedin
’
to death
,
and you know it,
”
he mumbled, brushing a strand of hair from the corner of her mouth.

Almost instantly
,
the realization she
’
d been trying to ignore for the past while hit her fully in the midsection
. T
ears sprang to her eyes and tumbled over her cheeks.

“
But you could
’
ve been!
”
He could easily ha
ve been killed in the shooting—
walking
into the parlor as he had done—
even by the glass flying everywhere when the windows shattered.

“
Naw,
”
he breathed.
“
Not me. It would take a lot more
’
n rustlers to take me down.
”
His reassurances comforted her—
no matter how unrealistic they were. She smiled, brushing the tears from her cheeks. He endeavored to pull her closer to him, but she pressed her hands against him
with resistance
.

“
I
’
m upset,
”
she whispered.
“
I…I don
’
t want y
a
to tease me just now.
”

“
I
’
m not teasin
’
you, kitten,
”
he mumbled
,
kissing the top of her head. Then he did what she wanted him to do. He gathered her into his powerful embrace as he said,
“
I
’
m holdin
’
you close to my heart so you
’
ll hear it beatin
’
and know
t
his whole mess is over…and I
’
m just fine.
”

Dusty laid her cheek against the warmth of his mighty chest and indeed drew greater comfort than she had imagined possible from the soft rhythm originating within him. The beat of his heart was so soothing
—
so strong. She knew why babies liked to lie against their mothers
’
breasts to go to sleep
—u
nderstood why she had often seen her mother with her head lying against her father
’
s chest as they lay stretched out under the big oak watching their girls wade in the creek. It was an embrace of security
—
an assurance that the person you loved indeed lived.

“
Now, finish playin
’
house with me and bandage me up so I can get out there and find out what needs doin
’
. All right?
”
Dusty unwillingly pushed herself out of Ryder
’
s embrace and nodded. She directed him to the chair, and she continued patching him up.

“
Them babies will probably have nightmares for a year after all this,
”
he mumbled, wincing as she worked on him.

Dusty nodded, guiltily distracted by the smooth contours of his arms and shoulders as she tended him. Ryder was exactly what her rather outrageous Aunt Gertie would
’
ve called
“
a mean piece of work.
”
How could any woman not throw herself at his feet and beg him to love her?
she wondered briefly.

“
They
’
re tucked in snugger
’
n bugs in a rug,
”
Hank said, stretching and yawning as he came down the hall.
“
That
yeller
dog still out in the parlor?
”

“
Ain
’
t heard a peep from him,
”
Ryder answered.

“
Well, I left Miss Raynetta and Becca over at Jones
es’
…figured they needed
’
em more
’
n we did. But lookin
’
at the l
ikes a you makes me wonder, boy,”
Hank said, leaning over Dusty
to inspect
Ryder
’
s injuries again.

“
Oh, I been way more cut up than this, boss,
”
Ryder assured him with a meaningful wink at Dusty.
“
I think I
’
ll far
e
fine.
”

“
Well, when Dusty
’
s got you sewed shut…come on in here and help me drag this filth outta my house.
”
With that, Hank disappeared into the parlor.

Dusty
’
s hands trembled as she secured several stitches of blue thread through the wound on Ryder
’
s arm. How she
’
d hated having to be the one to sew up the hands since her mother passed away. But working on Ryder had been almost unendurable! Still, she managed not to faint as she stitched and bandaged. Then she could only sit in the chair where he
’
d sat and watch Ryder and her father awkwardly drag the unconscious man from their parlor and out into the yard.

“
If you don
’
t let that arm rest, it
’
ll bleed all night!
”
she called after them. But she knew it was useless. Ryder would work himself into the grave before he
’
d admit to being licked. All she could do was hope her stitches had been secure and her bandages tight enough.

L
a
ying her head on the table, she meant only to rest her weary eyes for a moment. When she felt something warm brush her cheek, her eyes fluttered open
,
and she realized she
’
d fallen asleep.

“
Come on, Britches,
”
Ryder mumbled quietly.
“
Let
’
s haul your fanny to bed so you can get some rest.
”
She realized, as he put his fingers to her face once more, it had been the back of his hand caressing her cheek
that
had awakened her.

“
I
’
m not tired,
”
she said as she closed her dry, tired eyes once more. The quick vision of the way Ryder used to so often carry her
from the creek
,
the haystack, or the porch swing when she was a child
—the way he’d carry her into the house and
to bed
—the memories
flittered through her
half-conscious
mind. As a child, she
’
d often
worn herself into a sleep before reaching the house. Ryder would come lugging her in, and her mother would scold him for pampering her daughter so.

“
You always do this,
”
he grumbled as he pulled her to her feet and began to gather her in his arms.
“
Won
’
t just walk the ten feet to your bed
. G
otta sit down somewhere first and…
”

Dusty pulled herself to full consciousness when she realized he intended to lift her and carry her to bed. Had his arm and shoulder been well, she would not have thought twice about letting him do s
o—
merely because she was so very tired and her defenses were down. But he was not well
,
and the strain of lifting her could only serve to hurt him.

She squirmed out of his arms.
“
Fine, fine, fine,
”
she grumbled.
“
I
’
m going.
”
She staggered down the hallway into her bedroom, delighted by the dreamy warmth of his chuckle.

There it was
—
th
e
feeling
someone was watching. This time, Dusty opened her eyes to see Kenna staring at her with an expression of profound impatience.

Dusty smiled, rubbed at her still dry and tired eyes
,
and said,
“
Good morning, sweet pea.
”

Immediately
,
Kenna burst into excited chatter.
“
We has been awake, Dusty. I
’
m hungry
,
and Jakie
’
s drawers were soakin
’
wet! He wet clean through onto Mr. Hunter
’
s bed
,
and Feller didn
’
t have nothin
’
to diaper him in but one of your aprons
,
and he
’
s so fussy!
”

Dusty smiled at the thought of Feller Lance having to give a go at changing a baby
’
s diaper
—
especially with nothing at hand to use for one.

“
Who
’
s fussy
?”
she asked Kenna.
“
Feller or Jakie?
”

Kenna rolled her eyes impatiently.
“
Jakie!
”