Pioneer Passion (10 page)

She thought the pretty, bright yellow
material for the kitchen curtains would please Mattie, and yards
and yards of fabric for drapes for the parlor. She also decided on
curtains in her room but a simple style, no ruffles. She had to buy
some clothes and wrinkling her nose at the thought of dresses so
she picked out three shirts and two camisoles. She purchased two
pairs of pants and a chemise to wear to bed. There was no way she’d
wear one of those smothering night rails. Engrossed with her
thoughts, she didn’t hear Guy enter the store until the little bell
caught her attention. The cowboy went to talk with Mr. Dreyfus as
Rusty imagined sitting on one of the armchairs with Guy in the
other in front of a warm, crackling fire.

“...order will be here in about a month or
two.” Mr. Dreyfus’ voice interrupted her daydreaming and brought
her back into the room. She jumped to the present, stammering, “Oh,
that w-will be fine,” she replied, and felt foolish for her
thoughts.

Guy gave some money on account which
satisfied the store owner, and then he escorted her out of the
establishment. He told her that he was also pleased with her
selections; she would make someone a fine wife someday. That
thought didn’t lay well with her. He then walked her over to the
livery stable where a large bull stood in back of a boxed wagon.
The huge animal was snorting mucus, black eyes blazing. He led her
to his prized possession with his hand lightly around her waist and
she stiffened.

“C’mon,” he teased, “surely you’re not afraid
of Old Diabolo?”

Rusty heard the laughter in his voice and he
squeezed her waist, his grin telling her that she was safe with
him. Was she? Not impressed with his humor, she told him so with a
threatening look. But she realized too late that she shouldn’t have
taken her eyes off the giant animal, for it was then that Diabolo,
the great brindle bull decided to butt the fence with his
stone-like horns that were most threatening in size.

Its powerful neck showed a great bulge just
behind the head and its eyes gleamed and burned like a lantern as
it pawed dirt and snorted out streams of breath. She gasped when
the bull raised its head snorting in a loud, high defiant challenge
with powerful lungs. It then lifted its forefeet so that dirt went
high up in the air, annoyed to be penned in. She jumped back with a
squeal losing her footing and landing on her rump. Guy cracked up
with a burst of laugher bruising her pride more that the rock under
her backside did. She lifted her face and snapped, adding just the
right touch of condescension in her tone, “What’s so funny, may I
ask?!” She then frowned seeing the hysterical cowboy slap his thigh
with his hat.

“You!” he chortled and his blustery laughter
filled the air. “If you could have seen the scared look on your
face, and I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.” The sting
didn’t bite too much, but he was holding his side now and she
pouted, but could no longer keep from giggling. She tried to
swallow her laugh, which was a mistake, since it came out as an
exceedingly inelegant sputter. The sight of Guy in stitches became
contagious, making her forget her anger and she started to howl
along with him. The more he laughed, the more she convulsed, until
she wiped her tear-streaked face with her shirt-tail.

“Sorry to tease you. I didn’t think you were
afraid of anything,” he chucked again, letting out a silly snort.
His eyes were moist from chortling so hard.

“I’m not!” She slammed her hat on her head,
but smiled. “And I don’t think it was that funny,” she mocked
annoyance but she couldn’t contain another giggle and admitted, “It
feels so good to laugh again, and I can’t recall the last time I
felt happy. But, you’re not a gentleman to make sport of a lady,”
she teased.

With hand over heart, he feigned injury.
“Clearly, you bring out the best in me.” Finally, Guy composed
himself, and grinned, “I like the way you make me feel like a kid
again. I have to admit, you’re unique with so much spirit.” He
helped her up and she brushed off her pants with her hat. “But I
wish you’d get rid of that damn hat! You’re too pretty to hide such
a face.”

Rusty merely stood agog. He really liked her
and she was flattered by his compliment, even though he didn’t like
her hat. She wiped away the tears and was delighted to feel joy in
her again. The cowboy had a sense of humor, and she liked that in
him.

And, oh, that wasn’t all she liked,
either.

Chapter Eleven

Rusty thought if anyone had told her that she
would turn into a homemaker, she would have clobbered them. So here
she was doing just that, and it was with great pride that she gazed
at the curtains Mattie helped her make for her room. Her finger
still smarted from the pinpricks she continually gave herself, but
it was well worth it. She felt proud because Guy was pleased with
her effort and the furniture she had selected for the parlor and
upstairs rooms. The atmosphere in that house had been serene lately
but her inner thoughts were a different story.

On one particular night, Rusty fidgeted with
the fabric on the arm of the sofa. She was happy here but tense.
The orange trees had been pregnant with richly ripened fruit
plucked only that morning and she was so proud of her corner of the
ranch; her own little farm. She appreciated Guy’s help when he kept
his promise that he and his ranch hands would assist with the
harvest. When they had balked at the idea, Guy assured them of a
bonus that month. The picking had gone without a hitch and now her
richly colored oranges lay in burlap sacks by the corral, waiting
to be hauled into town tomorrow. Her profits would be good. She had
enough money to go out on her own, but somehow that notion no
longer made her happy.

There she sat in her own little world,
feeling more than gratitude for Guy’s generosity. When had she lost
all that hostility towards him? When had she fallen in love with
him? And in love she was, no longer denying the truth to herself.
Rusty paid little attention to sounds around her until she realized
the object of her thoughts had just intruded on her solitude. She
gave him a glance and he took a seat across the way and lit a
cigarette, quietly drawing on it.

Guy inhaled blowing smoke rings, deep in
thought and she assumed the man was also wool-gathering. Rusty then
averted her eyes and continued playing with the soft fabric. After
a few minutes and a few more drags, Guy exhaled the smoke along
with a question. “How old are you, kid?” Her head snapped up and he
grinned at her and she knew her expression was one of
confusion.

“What?!” She never expecting such a question
but she wasn’t sure if it was the unexpected question or the smile
that annoyed her the most. Exasperated, she tried to compose
herself. That lopsided grin always made her heart do flip-flops.
“Why the sudden interest?” she inquired and squared her shoulders
hoping to add some confidence to disguise her turmoil. Would he
notice how his presence rattled her?

She wanted to go over and wipe that grin off
his face with...with kisses. To live with this man and pretend to
feel nothing but friendship was becoming more and more difficult.
She could swear he was enjoying her discomfort. Rusty squirmed in
her seat and looked away, feeling heat on her face.

“Eighteen,” she answered her voice was barely
audible to her own ears.

“Try again!” he snapped. “You look to be
younger!”

She watched the smoke circle his head then
answered in exasperation, “All right, all right Jee’zes…seventeen!
But, I’ll be eighteen in a couple of months.” She added, “And in
case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a kid. I’m a woman!”

Guy crushed his cigarette into the ashtray.
He noticed all right. He also noticed how her eyes sparkled with
readiness to do battle if need be. But he was surprised when the
girl leaped from the chair and left the room. She yelled over her
shoulder that she’d developed a headache and was retiring early. He
found himself thinking about her too damn much lately and was the
butt of his men’s teasing when he hammered his thumb instead of the
nail.

Stepping in cow dung and roping a bramble
bush instead of a calf and the list of dumb things were adding up
too quickly to suit him. He couldn’t understand her moods lately.
She avoided being in the same room with him as much as possible. He
wondered if it was that she was afraid of him. He snorted thinking
that she couldn’t be anymore fearful of him than he was of her.

That night, Rusty lay in her bed with three
new friends: Frustration, confusion and love-sickness, and they
were all named Guy. She knew that she had left the cowboy in such
haste earlier that it made her appear all the more foolish. But,
she couldn’t sit another night in a room so close to him. Now she
listened to the bawling and lowing of the longhorns. Guy explained
that it was ‘cow talk’. Those damn coarse-haired critters were
grating on her nerves more than ever. She slammed her fist into the
pillow believing that she definitely had to get away from him, but
where would she go? She could move into town, find a job somewhere.
No way in hell could she stay here any longer, and after she sold
her oranges, she’d make plans to be independent. A nagging voice in
her head reminded her of her mother’s favorite sayings.

Man makes plans and God laughs.

Cockroach Mc Hale had been in town and rode
into the yard as the skies split wide open late that night,
releasing rain to splatter steadily from bloated pewter clouds. A
bolt of lightning hit the ground with an ear-splitting crack,
spooking the longhorns. Wild with fear they began to shove each
other into the fence. His horse reared, nearly throwing him and he
was soaked to the skin. Another strike, like the crack of a
bullwhip crashed into the black sky. Heading for the barn, he saw a
few cows jump over the backs of others, causing panic. Painful
cries of frightened animas were heard over nature’s wrathful voice
and he knew he had to do something, but what? Then all hell broke
lose and the fence was no longer an obstacle. Wiping the wetness
from his eyes, he saw the petrified herd had trampled it into
splinters and headed off every which way to escape the terror of
the storm that flashed all around them. Luckily, he had the
foresight to stay clear of the corral, and headed for the barn.
Taking deep breaths, he ran to the bunkhouse as the storm and the
earth shook under hundreds of stomping hoofs. The ranch hands in
the bunkhouse told him they had heard and felt the tremor and they
were all grumbling. He barked an order to the men as they were
scrambling into their pants, frantically bumping into each other.
Cockroach ran from the bunkhouse in time to see the small herd race
towards the valley.

Diabolo, tied in a separate pen, snorted and
bellowed, shaking his thick neck wildly. He wanted no part of the
storm either and butted his horns against the barn, splintering
wood in the tempestuous night. Cockroach had no time to try and
calm the ill-tempered bull, knowing the beast would cause more
damage to the structure than to himself.

Guy had heard the pounding and ran to the
front door. He hopped about on one foot almost falling, trying to
get his other leg into his pants. Buttoning his pants, he reached
the door mumbling obscenities freely from his tight mouth. “What in
God’s name is going on?!” he groused and swung open the heavy door.
Cockroach, his black hair plastered to his head, jumped back a
foot. Apparently, the foreman was not expecting him to answer so
riled. Pushing back his wet hair from his face, Cockroach
apologized for the noisy intrusion and shivered. Rain ran off the
end of the man’s long nose and he spit out the bad news.

Guy groaned and cried, “God! The storm hit so
quickly I didn’t have time to post a guard.” Dammit, his herd was
small but he didn’t want to lose one single cow. “Don’t just stand
there!” he bellowed. Before the man could obey his order, he heard
a loud gasp. Guy turned as a flash of lightning lit up the startled
look on the frightened girl’s face.

Rusty had run to see for herself what was
happening and found herself standing with two men, overhearing the
bad news. Guy was clad only in pants and the ranch hand in his
soaked clothes. Embarrassed, to see Guy half naked, she covered her
mouth with her hand and turned away but not before she saw
Cockroach do an about face and hightail it out of there. Guy rushed
past her to finish dressing and yelled at her to go back to bed.
For a moment, she stood dazed by his actions. Then all at once it
sank in. “The herd! Oh, no!” She swallowed the words and raced back
to her room with no intentions of going back to bed. She wanted to
help and was determined not to let Guy stop her. As she reached the
porch, the men rode off after the cattle and she heard one of the
men shout, “They went that-a-way, through the south field!”

The field! The field! The words echoed
through her brain.

“No-o-!” Rusty ran to the barn, towards the
broken coral. From crushed bags of fruit the sweet smell of oranges
turned her stomach. Her voice screamed over and over with the
thunder until her voice was so hoarse that only the thunder sounded
in the skies. The drenching rain plastered her hair to her face and
the downpour and tears blurred her vision. She fell to her knees
and frantically grabbed at her ruined possessions, pressed them to
her breasts and wept as if she were holding a sick child to her
bosom. She no longer heard or saw the storm raging around her for a
storm of her own was brewing inside her body. Her head hurt from
the ringing in her ears and her heart was full of painful
explosions. Her own safety was not a factor and she ran disoriented
towards the south field where her small saplings grew.

Darkness engulfed her except for an
occasional lightning bolt that illuminated her way.