Free Dusty Britches by Marcia Lynn McClure

smiling.
    When Dusty did not respond or acknowledge him in any way, he reached out. Taking her chin firmly in one hand and turning he r face to his , he asked, “ Did you dump all your manners in the slop bucket too? ” Surprised, Dusty could only stare at him indignantly. “ I said thank you, ” he repeated.
    “You’re welcome,” she growled through clenched teeth.
    He smiled sarcastically and whispered, “ Now, that ’s the way your mama taught you.” Releasing her face and taking his hat from the hook near the door, he left.
    Dusty looked over to her father for support. Surely he wouldn ’ t let any man, any ranch hand or cowboy , even Ryder Maddox, treat her so rudely! Her father only raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, signaling his agreement with Ryder ’ s actions.
    “ Daddy? ” Dusty whined.
    “ Boy ’ s right, darlin ’ , ” her father mumbled. Rising from his place at the table, he walked to her and kissed her warmly on the forehead. “ Ain ’ t many excuses for bad manners, ” and he left too.
    Shaking her head in disbelief, Dusty watched her father walk across the yard toward the barn. Was the whole world going to turn against her in favor of Ryder? Ryder Maddox has always been too big for his britches! she thought angrily. Plunging the plate he ’ d handed her into the water, she tried to think angry thoughts about him. Some men were too goo d-looking for their own good—thought t hey could boss othe rs around just because they had charisma!
    “ Remember how Ryder used to stay and help Mama and us do the dishes after supper sometimes, Dusty? ” Becca asked quietly.
    “ Ryder was always tryin ’ to be Mama ’ s favorite, ” Dusty grumbled.
    “ Ryder didn ’ t have to try, ” Becca reminded her. “ He helped Mama ’ cause he felt she deserved it after cookin ’ for that big bunch of men. ” Dusty scrubbed furiously at the plate, trying to ignore Becca as she continued to list the virtues of Ryder Maddox. “ Remember how he used to help us with our arithmetic? Even aft er the other hands were asleep, him and Feller would be up helpin ’ Daddy finish up chores or helpin ’ us with our schoolwork. ”
    “ Some friend he is to Feller, anyhow! ” Dusty interrupted. “ Gettin ’ Daddy to tell that old tale on Feller! ”
    “ Feller needs to have the attention, Dusty. It helps everyone else respect him more and understand him better if they know he ’ s human! ” The scolding strength in Becca ’ s voice was so unfamiliar that Dusty turned to look at her. “ The hands always liked Ryder ’ cause he made them feel important! He respected and admired Mama and treated Daddy like he was the greatest rancher in the world! ” Becca threw the dishtowel onto the table. “ And he ’ s scarin ’ you! You still love him, Dusty, and —”
    “ You don ’ t know me, Becca! Don ’ t tell me what I feel and what I don ’ t! ” Dusty argued angrily.
    “ You do! You do love him! ” It was obvious Becca would not be bullied this time. “ I seen it in your eyes ever since he got back yesterday . But he won ’ t love you back, Dusty —n ot when you ’ re so hateful and selfish! ”
    Dusty couldn ’ t say anything to her sister that wouldn ’ t be angry and cruel . So, whirling around, she fled from the house. Her eyes fell upon none other than Ryder watering his horse at the windmill trough before riding out to check stock. It was too perfect! He was bent over , leaning on the edge of the trough looking down into the water as his horse drank. Motivated by anger and humiliation, Dusty walked up behind him. Lifting her skirts and placing her foot squarely into the seat of his pants, with one good shove, she sent Ryder tumbling over into the trough with a splash.
    “ I am not a child anymore, Ryder! ” she shouted at him. “ What gives you the right to stand in there and correct me like I was a —”
    “ What ’ s wrong with you? ” he shouted as he stood up,