Dusty Britches (56 page)

After watching him go, Dusty glanced up to see Becca looking at her from the kitchen window. Who did they all think they were? She
’
d tried to dig out of the grave of heartbreak she
’
d buried herself in. She had! She thought she could! But to dig out only to be murdered again? And yet her inner voice broke through the door to her heart and screamed at her,
You selfish coward! You
’
ve lost your mind as well as your heart
!
Dusty knew then she deserved heartache. She deserved loneliness. She wasn
’
t like Miss Raynetta
,
who
’
d remained a good pe
rson having lost her only love—
for Miss Raynetta had n
o choice,
but Dusty had. And she
’
d pushed it away. Looking in the direction Ryder had ridden, she secretly wished,
Please let him leave before I have to see him with someone else.
Having to watch Ryder rain his affections on another woman—t
hat truly would take her life.

Days passed. The tension between Dusty and Ryder grew for a
time, yet
it was Ryder who seemed to
settle
down
first
. His smile returned
,
and Dusty f
ancied he hadn’t cared for her so
much after all. He seemed to be faring far better than her tear
-
saturated pillow was!

One morning nearly a week later, Dus
ty dried her hands on her apron,
left the kitchen
,
and stepped out
onto the porch. As she did, she saw Miss Raynetta
riding up
astride her black mare
, wearing a fiery red dress
.

“
I picked up your family
’
s post while I was in town,
”
she said, reining in next to the porch
. The pleasant woman handed
a large handful of letters and
small
parcels to Dusty.
“
Looks like Ryder Maddox even has somethin
’
today.
”

“
Really?
”
Dusty said as she glanced through the post.

“
I gotta get on home, hon,
”
Miss Raynetta apologized as she turned the
mare
.
“
Wish I could stay and visit. Come out to my place soon! We need a long talk
.”

“
All right,
”
Dusty said, waving.
“
Thank you for bringing the post.
”

Miss Raynetta returned Dusty
’
s wave
,
and Dusty watched her ride away. Returning her attention t
o the post, she thought it odd—
odd that someone would send Ryder a rolled
-
up newspaper tied with twine and nothing else. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and without thinking, she untied the twine and unfolded the paper.

“
Abilene Times
,
”
she read aloud.
“
So…have you been in
Abilene
all this time, Ryder?
”
she mumbled to herself. Then she began reading the titles of the articles,
“
Cattle Prices Soar…Mayor
’
s Daughter to Wed
.”
She opened the paper
,
and her eyes fell to a small article on the right
-
hand bottom corner of the paper. Someone had circled the article in black.
“
Miss Lillian Montgomery Dies.
”
A frown puckered Dusty
’
s brow as she read the article aloud to herself.
“
Lillian Montgomery, daughter of Kirk and Emily Montgomery
,
who own the Montgomery Cattle Ranch south of Abilene, died yesterday. Miss Montgomery would’ve been nineteen next month. The community joins the
Montgomery
f
amily in their sorrow at the loss of their beloved daughter after such a long ordeal. The
Abilene
Times says, ‘May she finally rest in peace, safe in the warmth and beauty of heaven
.
’
”

The tiny hairs on Dusty
’
s arms prickled
;
the hair on the back of her neck stood so on end she had to reach back and rub at it. Carefully, she folded the paper, returning it to its original shape and tying it with the twine once more.

Her mind was simply swimming in thoughts, ideas, and possibilities for explanation. The girl who died must
’
ve been someone Ryder knew. After
all, it said in the article her father was a rancher. It made sense Ryder would
’
ve en
ded up in
Abilene
at some point,
working cattle fo
r a rancher there. But the girl—she was nineteen, Dusty’s own age, a
ripe age to have captured Ryder
’
s attentions. Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the thoughts of Ryder even knowing another wo
man. It was simply informative—
simply someone letting Ryder know a member of the family of a man for whom he
’
d run cattle had died. But what if there w
ere
more? And if there w
ere
, Dusty had no right to know, especially now.

For days, she
’
d been trying to find a way out of the mess she
’
d gotten herself in. Almost instantly after sending
an angry
Ryder off, her heart had softened
—
broken the darkness within once more. But now, now she
’
d pushed him too far. She knew it. He would go on. After
all, he
’
d done what he
’
d come to do
—
several times!

“
After such a long ordeal
,
”
she repeated out loud.
“
Serves me right for reading other people
’
s post,
”
she grumbled, heading into the house
. S
he simply tossed the handful
of assortments onto the table—
paper for Ryder Maddox and all.

Still,
try as she might, Dusty couldn
’
t
quiet
her curiosity about the paper. It ate at her for the rest of the day. Something told her it wasn
’
t as simple as it appeared. Had Ryder been close to the girl? Had this Lillian been the woman he
’
d kissed differently than he kissed Dusty?
H
ad he even been in love with her? The thought
caused
Dusty
’
s bosom
to
ache
with insufferable pain
. It
caused
her throat
to
constrict
; she had trouble drawing breath on occasion. She found it nearly
impossible not to cry.
Yet she swallowed it—all of it—as
his words echoed through her mind again
.
Anytime you
’
re ready. Use me, abuse me
,
or whatever you want. You walk right up to me, give me the word, and I
’
ll kiss you in a way you never dreamed of! And that goes for anything else
.
That offer stands…for now
.
But it
’
s up to you, girl!

He’d said it—b
ut had he truly meant it? Had he truly understood, as he always seemed to, that Dust
y would leave that black moment,
regret it
,
and need a window left open to reach
for
him through? He
’
d been patient, hadn
’
t he? Understanding? Surely he would give her another chance. Was there hope? Or had she put the fin
al nail in the coffin of her true and only
love?

After supper, when the hands were sitting around the fire outside, Dusty approached Ryder. Each step she took toward him felt
as if
she w
ere
pacing toward the hanging tree.

“
Mighty fine supper, Miss Dusty,
”
Ruff offered as she approached.

“
Thank you, Ruff,
”
she accepted, pausing to study the worn
-
out men.
“
You all look positively wrung out!
”

They all only nodded,
their fatigue too great to
offer a spoken answer
. A few
rather grunted
in confirmation.
She walked up to Ryder,
his smile broadening mischievously as she approached. She was encouraged. It seemed the anger was gone from him. Had he forgiven her?

“
Miss Raynetta went to town today,
”
she told him.

“
Did she?
”
he asked, grinning up at her from where he sat on one of the old logs.

“
She picked up our post for us and…
”
Her words were lost in her throat as instantly his smile faded. The color drained from his handsome face
,
and he looked as if she
’
d just told him someone in his family
had died. And now she wondered—
had she?

Without another word, he held his hand out to her
. Slowly, s
he
placed
the paper in
his strong hand
. Somehow she wan
ted to snatch it back from him, wishing she’d
never told him that Miss Raynetta had gotten the post. She saw his jaw tighten as
he looked at the paper’s title—
his eyes closing for a moment as if something he
’
d only experienced in nightmares was about to come true. Without looking at her again, he opened the paper
,
and just as Dusty
’
s had been, his attention was drawn to the circled article. She watched him as his eyes traveled left to right, left to right, and left to right again as he read. When he finished, he sighed heavily, dropping his head and closing his eyes tightly as if trying to dispel a terrible vision in his mind. He seemed completely overwhelmed, burying his face in one hand for a moment as if struggling to control his emotions.
A
ll at once, he fairly leapt to his feet, threw the paper into the fire with the force of a man po
ssessed of grief and anger, and,
without looking at anyone, stormed away into the darkness of the night.

“
For Pete
’
s sake, Dusty,
”
Feller exclaimed.
“
What did y
a
do now?
”
It was the first thing Fe
ller had said to her for days—s
ince she
’
d hurt him too.

“I-
I just gave him some post that came for him today,
”
she stammered.

“
Well,
”
Feller said, standing beside her and staring out into the darkness after Ryder,
“
you
’
d best go apologize then.
”

Dus
ty frowned and looked at Feller.
A
pologize for giving him his post
?
she thought.
Feller winked at her
,
and sh
e understood. Now was the time—
the time to give back to Ryder in some small amount what he
’
d given to her. Without hesitation, she f
ollowed him into the darkness—t
his time to perhaps be forgiven.

“
Ryder?
”
she called after him.
“
Ryder?
”
She found him in the barn, his h
ands pressing against one wall,
his h
ead hanging forward as he
violently
kicked
an old leather horse collar with one foot.
“
Ryder?
”
she ventured.