of each other, they all expired. Of
course, this was what she was told when she discovered one of her
hens roasting on a spit. She couldn’t prove it, but she wouldn’t
put it past those workmen to have wrung their necks. Guy had to
keep from doing the same to the men seeing how upset this made her.
All she had left was Biscuit but to her dismay, the animal expired
shortly after. It was a good thing that mules were not eatable or
she might have suspected more foul play. Guy had his men bury the
animal. Now, she was completely alone; could life get any worse?
You had to think that!
Chapter Nine
Rusty’s curiosity peaked. When she thought no
one was looking, she sneaked up the hill to take a closer look at
Guy’s new house. She glanced around nervously then stuck her nose
inside past the oak door and looked around. Her eyes grew wide with
awe and she gasped at the spaciousness of the front room. Never in
her life had she dreamed of anything so big. Overhead, a pallet of
colors danced in the ceiling as sunlight reflected off crystal
teardrops that dangled from a chandelier.
A highly polished wooden floor lay before her
like a frozen pond and she imagined that she might fall if she
ventured across it. Not taking any chance, she placed each foot
down with caution and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter at
each step. Her footsteps led her into a kitchen that took her
breath away. A huge black stove stood in the far corner and rows of
shelves hung on the wall and many windows let in the sun. Through
an open door, she saw a small pantry. A bright red pump filled her
unbelieving eyes with astonishment. She envied the woman who
someday would be mistress of this wonderful house. Rusty turned,
not wanting to see anymore, chiding herself that she should care
who lived here one day.
Like hell you say! Miserable, she ran back to
her own place, teary-eyed, regretting her charade.
Rusty began taking early morning baths before
everyone was up and began her chores before the men slowly drifted
to work. One lovely morning, she dallied at the pond. Her mind and
nerves had been so jumbled lately, more so, since she had gone into
that large house. She sat, going over her life since that handsome
cowboy had come into it and sooner or later the truth had to be
revealed. But it wasn’t so much about her sex that filled her mind,
it was Guy.
Guy, the way his muscles rippled over his
back and arms when he chopped wood; Guy, his sometimes boyish look
and half-crooked smile when he talked; Guy, the sparkle in those
blue eyes when his temper flared. Guy, the way that one curl hung
lazily over his forehead no matter how many times he flicked it
away.
Guy. Guy. Guy.
“Oh, phoo!” she grumbled and kicked a stone
then gathered her things too preoccupied to hear the activity
coming from her house. Rusty walked and replayed her thoughts over
and over but it got her nowhere except feeling like her worn-out
pants. Into herself, she departed from the thickets, still unaware
of the commotion until she almost fell over one of her kitchen
chairs.
“Hey!” Rusty shouted. “What’s going on here?”
Astounded at what she was witnessing, she stood paralyzed with
shock. It felt as if flames leaped to her face when she realized
that someone was ransacking her home, all hell broke lose. Her legs
flew to the porch and she was nearly knocked down by another
kitchen chair that hurled through the door to land next to the
table. She swore, ducked and ran through the door before anything
else flew out.
“Stop!” she shrieked, but none of the men
acknowledged her presence. She was practically knocked over when
they carried out her bed and tossed it roughly into the yard,
adding to the pile. “What’s going on?!” she railed as her hands
flew around like a windmill. Her face felt flushed as the veins in
her temple pulsated. With a strength she didn’t know she had, Rusty
flattened a startled man up against the wall. “Tell me, mister,
what’s
course, this was what she was told when she discovered one of her
hens roasting on a spit. She couldn’t prove it, but she wouldn’t
put it past those workmen to have wrung their necks. Guy had to
keep from doing the same to the men seeing how upset this made her.
All she had left was Biscuit but to her dismay, the animal expired
shortly after. It was a good thing that mules were not eatable or
she might have suspected more foul play. Guy had his men bury the
animal. Now, she was completely alone; could life get any worse?
You had to think that!
Chapter Nine
Rusty’s curiosity peaked. When she thought no
one was looking, she sneaked up the hill to take a closer look at
Guy’s new house. She glanced around nervously then stuck her nose
inside past the oak door and looked around. Her eyes grew wide with
awe and she gasped at the spaciousness of the front room. Never in
her life had she dreamed of anything so big. Overhead, a pallet of
colors danced in the ceiling as sunlight reflected off crystal
teardrops that dangled from a chandelier.
A highly polished wooden floor lay before her
like a frozen pond and she imagined that she might fall if she
ventured across it. Not taking any chance, she placed each foot
down with caution and she couldn’t control her burst of laughter at
each step. Her footsteps led her into a kitchen that took her
breath away. A huge black stove stood in the far corner and rows of
shelves hung on the wall and many windows let in the sun. Through
an open door, she saw a small pantry. A bright red pump filled her
unbelieving eyes with astonishment. She envied the woman who
someday would be mistress of this wonderful house. Rusty turned,
not wanting to see anymore, chiding herself that she should care
who lived here one day.
Like hell you say! Miserable, she ran back to
her own place, teary-eyed, regretting her charade.
Rusty began taking early morning baths before
everyone was up and began her chores before the men slowly drifted
to work. One lovely morning, she dallied at the pond. Her mind and
nerves had been so jumbled lately, more so, since she had gone into
that large house. She sat, going over her life since that handsome
cowboy had come into it and sooner or later the truth had to be
revealed. But it wasn’t so much about her sex that filled her mind,
it was Guy.
Guy, the way his muscles rippled over his
back and arms when he chopped wood; Guy, his sometimes boyish look
and half-crooked smile when he talked; Guy, the sparkle in those
blue eyes when his temper flared. Guy, the way that one curl hung
lazily over his forehead no matter how many times he flicked it
away.
Guy. Guy. Guy.
“Oh, phoo!” she grumbled and kicked a stone
then gathered her things too preoccupied to hear the activity
coming from her house. Rusty walked and replayed her thoughts over
and over but it got her nowhere except feeling like her worn-out
pants. Into herself, she departed from the thickets, still unaware
of the commotion until she almost fell over one of her kitchen
chairs.
“Hey!” Rusty shouted. “What’s going on here?”
Astounded at what she was witnessing, she stood paralyzed with
shock. It felt as if flames leaped to her face when she realized
that someone was ransacking her home, all hell broke lose. Her legs
flew to the porch and she was nearly knocked down by another
kitchen chair that hurled through the door to land next to the
table. She swore, ducked and ran through the door before anything
else flew out.
“Stop!” she shrieked, but none of the men
acknowledged her presence. She was practically knocked over when
they carried out her bed and tossed it roughly into the yard,
adding to the pile. “What’s going on?!” she railed as her hands
flew around like a windmill. Her face felt flushed as the veins in
her temple pulsated. With a strength she didn’t know she had, Rusty
flattened a startled man up against the wall. “Tell me, mister,
what’s
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