“Cash…go soak your head,” Becca told him.
“Becca,” Dusty scolded.
“I, um…I…uh…wanted to apologize for the other day…in town when those men were—” Cash began.
“Yeah, you’d better apologize, you skunk,” Becca told him. “Be glad Ryder didn’t mop up the whole town with your yeller hide!”
“Becca!” Dusty scolded again. Her sister owned no propriety where speaking to Cash Richardson was concerned. Becca had never been able to tolerate Cash, and she wasn’t about to give him any way to hurt her big sister again. “Run on and talk to Maudie,” Dusty told her with a smile. “Not a worry in the world right here.” Becca looked to Dusty and sighed. She glared at Cash a moment before leaving them alone.
“You were sayin’, Cash?” Dusty coaxed. Oddly, she found she was resisting the urge to burst into giggles. He looked ridiculous—all dressed up in his best black suit, his perfectly trimmed mustache combed neater than a dead man’s. How had she ever gotten so lost as to find herself involved with Cash Richardson? It was ridiculous. Truly!
“The other day in town,” he began again, “I…I’m sorry I wasn’t more forceful in the beginning. I should’ve stood more firmly for my cause and—”
Dusty shook her head and interrupted him. “Cash, we both know you’re not the type to get your hands dirty. And you’re certainly not the type to get a new suit dirty.”
Cash looked at her in astonishment. In fact, Dusty was astonished herself.
“Dusty, I-I,” he stammered. “I can prove myself worthy. I swear! Just give me a chance to have you again.”
It was the same old argument. No, it hadn’t stopped over the past two years. It had lessened, yes. Yet Cash Richardson had never quit trying to win Dusty back. She felt sorry for him in those moments—sorry for him and guilty herself, for the grief she’d given him over his betraying her. Had he deserved it? Had he, when she knew deep within herself she would’ve eventually found another reason not to marry him anyway?
“Cash,” she began, somewhat awash with guilt, “you never had me…never. Not even when ya thought ya did. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You’re just saying these things because I hurt you, Dusty,” Cash said. It was clear he didn’t believe her—perhaps thought she was only trying to resist him somehow. “But I know I can win you back.”
Dusty opened her mouth to offer further explanation. However, at that moment, she looked up to see Ryder angrily striding toward them. She glanced at Becca. She stood some distance away, talking with Maudie. Becca nodded, and Dusty knew her sister had sent Ryder to her rescue. As Ryder continued toward them, his eyes burned with annoyance, one hand already fisted. Cash took a step backward as Dusty stepped in front of Ryder, putting a hand to his chest to stay him.
“Ryder,” she said, “here comes Alice and her family. Y-you need to meet her husband, Alex.”
Ryder looked past her to Cash—furious. Yet, stepping back, he followed as she started toward Alice.
“I don’t know why you even stomach him,” Ryder growled.
“Because I’m realizing he wasn’t the only one who was dishonest where he and I were concerned,” Dusty explained.
Ryder stopped and scowled at her. “What do ya mean by that?”
“Dusty!” Makenna exclaimed. Dusty smiled as the little girl ran to her, wrapping her tiny arms around Dusty’s legs.
“Hey there, sweetie,” Dusty giggled. She quickly picked up the little girl—grateful for the distraction.
“You brung Ryder Magics?” Makenna asked, pointing a tiny index finger to the handsome cowboy.
“My horse brung me,” Ryder answered. As the sweet little girl smiled at him, Dusty watched his anger and irritation fade. “You know I woulda broke Miss Dusty’s back if I’da let her bring me to the picnic.”
The clever little girl somehow understood Ryder’s humor and erupted into giggles. Makenna stretched her arms toward Ryder, and he gathered her into his strong embrace. He chuckled as she kissed him soundly on one cheek.
“Dusty! Honey, you look wonderful!” Alice chimed, throwing her arms around Dusty’s neck. The warm hug from her friend reminded Dusty that hugging had been all too absent in her life.
Alex Jones was carrying Jake on one hip as he reached them. “Hey there, Dusty,” he greeted.
Alex was a handsome man—rather short with light hair and green eyes. His smile was his best feature, and Dusty nodded in greeting. He’d been a school chum of Alice’s and Dusty’s when they were girls. Dusty had been very happy for Alice when she’d married Alex; he was a good man.
“Ryder Maddox,” Ryder introduced himself.
“Alex Jones,” Alex said, taking Ryder’s offered hand.
“Didn’t you and your daddy run the grain shoot in town years ago?” Ryder asked.
“Yes, sir,” Alex confirmed, obviously pleased Ryder recognized him. “I heard ya were back as a hand over to Hank Hunter’s ranch.”
“Yep. Ain’t no better place to hang your hat,” Ryder told him.
“Hank’s a good man. A good man.” Alex bounced baby Jake a moment when the boy began to fuss and then continued, “I hear my daughter’s expectin’ a marriage proposal from ya when she grows up.”
Ryder chuckled, and Makenna hugged him again. “Sweetheart, I’ll look like ol’ man Leroy by the time you’re old enough to be gettin’ married,” he said to the girl. Makenna only smiled, pinching Ryder’s cheeks.
“Well, Alice said Kenna took right to ya the other day.” Again Jake whimpered, and Alex paused a moment to quiet him. “Kenna, you run along and find the other children, darlin’. Let your mama talk with Miss Dusty.” Kissing Ryder once more on the cheek, Makenna wriggled down from his arms and ran off in search of adventure.
“So,” Alex began, winking at Alice, “I guess I have you to thank for givin’ my Alice her first bird’s-eye view of a bathin’ man, huh?”
“Alex!” Alice gasped. “You shut your mouth!”
“You told him?” Dusty asked Alice in a horrified whisper. She couldn’t believe Alice had told Alex about the two of them spying on Ryder way back.
“You know I tell Alex everything,” Alice reminded her.
“Yes…but…Alice!” Dusty whispered.
Ryder and Alex both chuckled. “Yeah. Them two were always up to no good,” Ryder assured Alex, “whether it was snitchin’ cookies or a sittin’ up in a tree a-spyin’ on me skinny-dippin’.” Dusty and Alice gasped simultaneously. “What?” Ryder asked. “You two think I didn’t know you were sittin’ up in that tree?”
Alex broke into a roar of laughter at the look on his wife’s face.
“We weren’t spyin’ on you,” Dusty stated.
“You were,” Ryder argued, grinning triumphantly.
“We were not!”
“Were too.”
“Were not!”
“Ah, Dusty! Give it up,” Alice giggled. “We were so!”
Dusty was completely flustered, her cheeks fiery red with an embarrassed blush. He’d known all the time?
As the two men stood chuckling, Alice simply linked arms with Dusty, straightened her posture, and said, “Fine. You two boys go on about your silly talk. Dusty and I are here to enjoy ourselves.” Turning, she pulled Dusty with her and started toward the quilting.
“Just for that, Alex can get my turkey and candied yams out of the wagon and take care of Jakie,” Alice giggled.
“I’m horrified, Alice!” Dusty said. “All this time he knew we were—”
“Ah, let it go. It’s funny! And besides…Ryder never said anything ’til now. I think that’s right sweet of him not to tease us about it.” Alice giggled again. “Just imagine how horrified you woulda been if he’d taken to teasin’ ya about it back then.”
“Not to mention Mama woulda had my hide,” Dusty added, smiling.
It was sweet to think Ryder had kept the knowledge to himself, especially considering what a tease he had been—what a tease h
e still was! It would’ve been perfect teasing ammunition. Dusty couldn’t keep herself from glancing back over her shoulder to where Ryder and Alex stood talking. She couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face when Ryder winked at her.
“Who’s gettin’ married?” Alice asked, and Dusty turned her attention to the quilt stretched out on a frame in the shade of the trees. “I haven’t heard anyone announcin’ anything. Have you?”
“No,” Dusty answered.
“Well, let’s find out.” Alice tugged on Dusty, urging her to hurry her step.
Chapter Eight
The day was overflowing with amusement and lightheartedness. All the day long there were games for the children, quilting, eating, and endless visiting. The men competed in ax throwing, roping, riding, and team pulling. Ryder won several of the individual contests. After being awarded a blue ribbon in splitting wood, he sauntered toward her, and Dusty’s stomach fluttered. A familiar grin of mischief spread across his handsome face as he approached.
“There you are,” he chuckled. Holding out two of the many ribbons he’d won, he said, “I was wonderin’ if you could look after these for me.” His eyes quickly surveyed Dusty from head to toe. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Lowering his voice, he teased, “Beg yer pardon—I plum forgot. You’re fillin’ your dresses out in a mighty fine manner all on your own these days.”
Dusty’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. Chuckling to himself, Ryder winked, stuffed the ribbons in his pockets, and walked away. Dusty quickly glanced around. Had anyone had heard him? Oddly, when she found no one was close enough to have been eavesdropping, she felt somewhat disappointed. Still, she silently gloated when Maudie Phillips arrived a few moments later to engage in trivial conversation.
While the men went about outdoing one another at being strongest and best at various events, the women visited endlessly. They quilted, wiped the runny noses and tears of playing children, and made certain the food table was always clean and heaped with good things to eat. Miss Raynetta flittered about like a little purple butterfly—here and there and back again—visiting and laughing and making sure everyone was having a good time.
Dusty found herself studying the eccentric little woman. She thought that though Miss Raynetta wore a perpetual smile, laughed, and seemed to be enjoying herself, there was something missing in her countenance. Dusty couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was at first, but it bothered her—saddened her somehow.
Later in the day, as Dusty sat watching Miss Raynetta—trying to figure what it was about the sweet woman that seemed unsettled—the answer struck like a thunderbolt. Miss Raynetta was always alone! Even when she talked to the other women or to the children, it wasn’t very long before someone else interrupted, and Miss Raynetta would flitter off to some other activity. As Dusty continued to observe her, it was obvious Miss Raynetta was intentionally trying to stay busy—every second busy. Several times throughout the day, Ryder approached and talked with her, and Dusty wondered if he too felt Miss Raynetta’s masked discomfort.
Just after one of the team pulling contests, Dusty noticed Miss Raynetta locked in conversation with her father. Dusty smiled, noting her daddy’s complete attention to the small woman as they talked. He chuckled several times, clearly amused by something she had said. Once during their conversation, Miss Raynetta reached up, straightening the collar of Hank’s shirt as she babbled on. They talked for a long time. Though several people approached Hank briefly, Dusty was proud of his lending his attentions to Miss Raynetta for such an extended period of time.
“You gonna stand back and just watch your whole life?” Ryder asked as he sauntered over. He sighed and sat down next to Dusty on the old tree stump. “Scoot your fanny over,” he mumbled, bumping and pushing her as he spoke.
“Are ya havin’ fun?” Dusty asked, delighted he was sitting with her—especially when she saw Maudie Phillips looking at them from across the way.
“Yeah,” he answered. “How ’bout you? You havin’ fun just sittin’ here watchin’?”
“Yep,” she told him.
“What’s so fun about it today?”
“I’m learnin’ a lot.” Dusty smiled. Ryder arched an eyebrow in doubt. “I am! For instance, I’ve learned that ol’ man Leroy has a flask of whiskey hidden down the front of his pants.” Ryder chuckled and nodded. “I’ve learned that Miss Raynetta isn’t as happy as she always pretends to be…and I’ve learned that Ryder Maddox is still the most eligible bachelor in the county.”
Ryder chuckled. “All right. What do you want?”
“What do ya mean?” Dusty was truly perplexed.
“What do you want? You ain’t much into compliments…so I figure ya must want somethin’.”
“I don’t want anythin’ from you,” Dusty said. She sighed and tried to appear unaffected.
“Really?” he teased.
“Really.” She was secretly delighted by their friendly banter. “What could you possibly have that I would ever want?”
“Well,” he began, and she knew there was mischief in his mind, “ya did tell me awhile ago that I have a sweet hind end.” Dusty gasped. “I figure maybe you want me to sit right down on my fine hind end and sit you right down on my lap…then spend some time sparkin’ with ya.”
“I can’t believe you!” Dusty scolded, delighted at his flirting.
“And now that ya mention my sweet hind end…” he began.
“I did not mention it,” she argued.
“It puts me to wonderin’…when did ya first think my hind end was sweet? Was it recent? Or was it after you and Alice sat up in that tree a-spyin’ on me back when—”
Dusty shoved him hard, causing him to tumble off the stump. He chuckled, reached up, and took hold of her arm, pulling her off after him. She landed in a heap next to him and immediately looked about to see if anyone had noticed. The only people nearby were several young children playing in the grass, and she was thankful everyone else’s attention was otherwise occupied.
“We closed our eyes, and you know it,” she argued as she tried to stand up.
“Oh, bull,” he chuckled, pulling her back down to sit next to him in the grass. He lay back in the grass, tucked his hands under his head, and sighed with contentment. “Now come down here, and let’s get to kissin’!”
Again, Dusty’s mouth fell agape. She shook her head in disbelief. “Let me get a whiff of your breath. I think you’ve been out with ol’ man Leroy,” she scolded.
He chuckled again. “All right. Come on down here and get a whiff of it then.”
Dusty was completely flustered. She knew it was time—time to stop the teasing. She’d let her guard down too much, and her heart was beginning to ache. He was so handsome—so deliciously attractive lying there in the grass next to her—so friendly and witty and fun! And she knew she couldn’t have him. Still, she wondered what he would do if she actually took him up on his teasing offer. Would he take her in his arms and kiss her so perfectly—the way he had under the waterfall? Or would he just laugh, having only been teasing all the while?
There was no more time to consider on it—for in the next moment a giggling, straw-headed little angel came bounding over from her play with the other children. With a quick leap, she landed herself squarely on Ryder’s “lap.” In truth, he had no lap—having been stretched out straight on the ground.
“Oof!” he choked in obvious pain. Makenna giggled and stretched over Ryder’s stomach, reaching up to squeeze his cheeks lovingly. Dusty bit her lip, but she couldn’t stop the giggle rising in her throat when he winced and choked, “Well, hello there…you little devil, you.”
“We frowed up our ball, and it’s stucked in the tree now, Ryder Magics. Please will you get it for us?” Makenna begged.
Ryder chuckled. Gently, he lifted the little girl off his body and struggled to sit up. Dusty smiled, biting her lip as Ryder sat silent for a moment. An expression of enduring discomfort and pain lingered on his face.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he choked. “Just give me a minute, huh?”
Again Dusty giggled—simultaneously feeling sorry for him. He looked up and grinned through his pain-stricken frown.
“You go on and laugh, honey,” he said, struggling to his feet. “But you’ll be havin’ a whole lot more sympathy when the day comes and you’re wantin’ to have my baby.” He laughed heartily when Dusty gasped—when she nearly fell over flat from the shock of the remark.
“I can’t believe you said that!” she exclaimed. She was mortified—yet oddly delighted at his inference that someday she might have his baby.
“Yes, ya can,” he corrected her. “Now run off and involve yourself with these nice folks! Try havin’ some fun for a change, Britches.” He limped and limped to the tree under which Makenna stood pointing upward.
Dusty stood, leaving Ryder to help Makenna with her dilemma. There was nothing else to do. She was dazed by the things he’d said. For several minutes, she wasn’t aware of where she was walking or who had stopped her along the way to chat. The sun seemed brighter, the food tastier, Becca’s smile more radiant. Furthermore, try as she might to ignore the fact, Dusty’s feet felt lighter as she walked along—lighter than they had in years.
However, late in the afternoon, when the sound of fiddles announced the start of the barn dance, the old feelings of uncertainty and fear—the need to hide away and put up a defensive wall—began to overtake her again.
“Oh, come on, Dusty! It’ll be so much fun!” Becca assured her, taking her hand and leading her into the barn. “You love to dance!”
I loved to dance, Dusty wanted to correct, but there was no reason to squelch Becca’s enthusiasm.
“You havin’ fun today, honey?” her daddy asked, putting a strong arm around her shoulders. The music started, and everyone began whooping and hollering with delight. Dusty nodded and forced a smile. “Good. Then ya won’t mind a-beatin’ the floor a bit with your daddy, now will ya?” Dusty smiled up at him. He was so considerate of her—so desperate she should have fun—that she should find herself again.
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