This explanation is needed to put the regular Jan 16 Monday Memoir in perspective. I will not link it to FB but it is here for those who wish to read it. The next time Dusty and I saw each other was May 31st. The intervening weeks and months were not easy...
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On Tuesday, Jan 12, I got the surprise of my life–an unexpected letter, short but exciting. I would have a visitor that Friday! He was coming just to see me. No week ever passed much slower. It seemed that B&B 6 was finally finished at Williams and would now move to Flagstaff. While that was going on, Dusty could make a trip down to the Verde and then go back to start setting his outfit to rights to begin work on Monday. It was the first chance he'd had to get away.
That Friday morning I rode fence out at Dead Horse with June Parsons, as I had promised to do. I was lucky enough to finish and leave fairly early so was home shortly after noon. That was almost too early for the planned 3:00 meeting and I got involved with discussing the horse training article I was trying to write. Still I got out to pony colts at 2:00. We just finished trimming Bravo’s feet when Moonspinner passed on the highway. I was able quickly to catch Chief and hit the road. I'd got my note in the message box coffee can (down near the Bittercreek Bridge then, I think) earlier and someone found it. I hit a lope through Patio Town and the gate into the river bottom. Where was Moonspinner? Then a flash of metallic gray off to the right caught my eye. My heart was in my mouth as I rode. The car was empty! I reined in but didn’t wait long. A slim figure in olive gray riders, a brown plaid shirt, gray hat and mirror shades drifted in through the salt cedars.
For a fearful second he was a stranger and then a soft voice asked me
why I looked so serious and I knew it was my Dusty. So we talked about
everything except us at first, talk broken by long silences and longer looks. I
made him take off the shades so I could see his eyes. They hadn’t changed. How
could I ever have thought them cold? He teased me until I pouted. “You came
down just to see me and then all you do is tease me.”
“What else is there to do?” he asked. Of course it was his way to deal
with some powerful emotions and keep control; I semi-knew that but had not quite come fully
to understand yet. I'd equated teasing with sarcastic meanness from many bad
experiences. This was different.
I showed him the picture I took in October 30. “Do I look that rough?”
he asked. Then he took two more pictures of me. “I see you’re wearing it.” (my
talisman necklace) I replied that I wore it constantly. Then he asked, “Will I see you again today?”
I took the chance and sent him to the pasture to wait as it was now about 4:15. I cajoled Charlie Mike into coming along but refused to explain why. I knew he’d be surprised. We rode Prez and Leo. I began the chores, and soon saw Dusty as he slipped soundlessly through the brush, probably to be sure we were alone. Charlie Mike could scarcely believe his eyes. I will add that Dusty was always good to Charlie Mike, almost as if the kid was his little brother instead of mine. So we talked as we worked. Again he carried hay for me and again I was stirred by his nearness. He’d torn off the thumbnail on his right hand—he was left handed—and it made me shudder to look at it. After we were done, we talked. Charlie Mike asked about the outfit etc. I listened, occasionally meeting a pair of dusty blue eyes. My gaze never left his face. I had to remember every line, every tone. Each time I learn something new.
While we were talking, I said, “The only person who could hurt me would be someone I trusted.” Went on, could I trust Charlie Mike etc. which I of course affirmed. “I’ve always been a loner, no brothers to trust or not,” Dusty said. “So you’re an only child,” I teased. “That’s how come you’re such a brat.” He looked hurt, maybe thought I meant it until I smiled. “Not really. I can tease too.”
We had to start leaving so he followed us across the log bridge over the ditch. Our mounts were tethered there. We mounted. He admired Leo and observed
his feet were small. I agreed it was a common fault of Quarter Horses. I sent
Charlie Mike on to open the pasture gate. Dusty leaned on Leo’s shoulder, stroking his nose. Leo is usually slow to make up to someone but he was soon begging for more. We talked,
looking steadily at each other.
“If I hadn’t met you when I did, things might be a lot different now… I might have been with those guys that got fired. I guess I told you I was on the fence for awhile. I didn’t think there was anybody around worth looking up to…” I said I was trying to live up to his name for me (Angel) but I never could. He said that was the way he thought of me, though. I then said, “I’m going to have to quit writing to you so much. I’ll get in trouble and …it really isn’t right.”
“Maybe someday things will be different. But I don’t want you wasting
your time on me. I’m so much older than you and…everything.”
“I don’t think of it that way. Oh, some people think I’m crazy but I’m
not worried.”
A moment of silence and then he said “I heard you had a pretty bad a scare
one time.” (I had mentioned issues with Blondie a little in a recent
letter, mostly the once when he waylaid me down at the river; he'd been fishing and was pretty drunk. It got a little bad.).
“Oh yes, I did. It taught me a lesson I’ll never forget. Like I said, the only person who could hurt me now would be someone I trusted.” Long look, then “Hurting you would be the last thing I’d want to do.” I looked back. “I know. That’s why I trust you.”
He half-sighed. “I had a whole bunch of things planned out that I wanted to say to you and now I can’t.” I didn't ask or push. “It’s all right. I’ve got to go.” We just looked at each other then, for eyes could say things words were not allowed to. In another minute I would have leaned blindly down to him. I had been aching just to put a hand on his shoulder, to bend over closer to those steady, tender eyes. I reached out a hand, too blind with tears to see his face. He grasped my hand, held it tightly for a long instant. I answered the touch with a fierce squeeze. As Leo whirled away, Dusty patted my leg lightly twice just above the knee and I could feel that touch hours later. I hit Leo too hard with my newly sharpened spurs and he pitched but I got him stopped. We rode. When I looked back, Dusty was walking down the ditch ... Then we neither looked back. For now, there was nothing more to say or do.
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