Dusty Britches by Marcia Lynn McClure Page B

want yo —” Dusty began.
    “ Nope. You ain ’ t gonna bully me about this one, Dusty. Now let ’ s get these dishes done up. I got other things I wanna get done today. ”
    “ Do ’ em yourself, ” Dusty spat. “ I did the cookin ’ ! Remember? ” And throwing her apron into a n earby chair, Dusty stormed off— all determination to be kinder and more understanding to her sister completely obliterated.
    She had meant to go down to the pond and pout. It was, after all, her favorite pouting place. But no sooner had she left the back porch than she heard her daddy call to her.
    “ Dusty. Dusty! Run in the barn and get that smaller brand for these heifers. ”
    Sighing heavily and with irritation—for her self-centered poutin g session had been interrupted— she stomped to the barn and retrieved the brand.
    “ He ’ s got two thousand hands out there just a - standin ’ around waitin ’ to be paid! You ’ d think one of ’ em could come in here and find the small iron! ”
    Angrily, she walked back to where her father stood paying the cowboys who were leaving and thanking them for their help. Feller already had the fire going, and Guthrie and Ruff had several head waiting nearby ready for branding. Dusty glanced over to where Ryder stood near Feller. She knew Ryder would do most of the wrestling. He always had. She remembered he could take a cow down faster than any hand they ’ d had before or since. Dusty used to love to sit on the fence and watch him help in the branding. It was always so impressive when she was a young girl to wa tch his strength and dexterity— the way he ’ d throw a heifer or steer to the ground like the easiest thing in the world. So without being conscious of what she was doing, she leaned back against the fence and watched as Ruff sent a heifer toward the fire. In a split second, Ryder grabbed the heifer ’ s head, twist ed her neck , and forc ed her to the ground. Feller was just as fast with putting the iron to her. Dusty wrinkled her nose at the familiar yet dreadful stench of burning hair and hide.
    The cowboys making ready to leave joined Ruff, Guthrie, and Titch in hollering and whistling with admiration. Ryder simply released the cow, stood up , and rubb ed his hands back and forth in anticipation of the challenge . “ Bring ’ em on! We ’ ll have this done ’ fore lunch! ” he said.
    Dusty, totally unaware of the broad smile that was now part of her expression, continued to watch the men brand. Before long, the cowboys who were drifting were gone, and her father was branding the smaller heifers and steers while Ruff and Titch took turns wrestling. Guthrie was bringing the big ones in , and Ryder took down two or three to the other men ’ s one.
    Dusty stood watching for a long time before Becca finally joined her. “ I ’ ve finished the dishes, ” Becca stated rather resentfully.
    “ Thank you, Becca, ” D usty said. “I’m sorry, Becca. I— I shouldn ’ t be so cross. It ’ s just that —”
    “ I know, I know. Let ’ s not talk about it anymore. ” Becca stepped up onto the lowest fence rung to watch the men work. “ Ryder ’ s still the fastest I ever saw, ” she commented.
    Dusty remained silent. They watched as Guthrie led an enormous cow in on a rope.
    “ She ’ s huge! ” Becca exclaimed. “ She ’ s gotta be near half a ton! ”
    “ She ’ s still got her horns too. I bet she ’ s ornery, ” Dusty added.
    “ Think he can get her down? ”
    “ Naw. She ’ s too big. Daddy ’ ll just butcher her early. ” Dusty watched as Guthrie nodded toward Ryder and Feller.
    “ Find any elephants to bring in for us, Guthrie? ” Feller chuckled.
    “ What you boys think I am? ” Ryder asked, sizing up the cow and rolling up his shirtsleeves.
    “ Stinkin ’ immortal! ” Ruff shouted with a chuckle.
    Everyone stopped to watch and see whether Ryder could take the monstrosity of a beef down for branding.
    “ I ’ ll wager you, boy! ”