Chief Cook and Bottle Washer by Rita Hestand Page B

Rusty?"
    "Well no, but–"
    "But nothing. Take a good look at one of them
next time you run off to watch Clint ride. They are a bunch of
busted up cowpokes who can hardly set the saddle any more. And not
a one of them over probably thirty five. What kind of future is
that?"
    "Yeah, I've heard all the stories, but Clint
sorta has his heart in it, if you've paid any attention." Rusty
hesitated to add.
    Deke sighed. "I have. That's why we've got to
get his heart out of it, somehow."
    "How do you plan on doin' that, bro?" Rusty
asked twisting his head.
    "I'm working on it. By the way, did either of
you think to invite Emma to the dance?"
    Rusty scratched his chin, and picked up a
piece of straw from the floor of the barn. His blue eyes evaded
Deke's as he put the piece of straw to his lips. "I hadn't even
thought about it. Maybe Clint will invite her."
    "Yeah, maybe so," Deke said with a shrug.
    All the way out to the south pasture Deke
fretted over the possibility of Clint not thinking about it. What
was wrong with those boys? Didn't they recognize quality when they
saw it? Why weren't they beating down her door to ask her out? She
knew how to cook, she knew how to clean, and she was fair at taking
care of the kid. It was obvious how much she loved Sammie Jo, and
she'd be a great mother if she ever quit worrying about other
people so much.
    He was in the middle of the castrating
process, two hours later when it hit him. He hadn't taken his mind
off the problem all morning. He was edgy and biting everyone's head
off and no one knew what was wrong with him. Deke had to get this
plan into action so he could go back to ranching. There was no
other way. Until he settled things, he wasn't going to get anything
done.
    Emma might not have anything to wear, and she
might refuse the offer in the first place. God, he hadn't thought
twice about the way she might feel or think.
    He didn't give the possibility a chance to
fester, he walked over to the straw boss. "Take over Sandy, I'll be
back later." Then he headed back to the house.
    All the way back, he tried to figure an angle
to bring the dance up with Emma. Had Clint asked her out? Had she
accepted? Maybe he'd run into Clint first and could ask him.
    How did a man tackle a conversation so
personal about a woman's wardrobe. Well, since he knew nothing
about such things he'd just come out in the open with it, and hope
Emma wouldn't be insulted.
    Yeah, a direct approach would be best. He
hoped.
    Emma hung the living room rug on the
clothesline and beat it with a broom to get the dust out. In her
action her breast were outlined more decidedly than Deke cared to
notice. He felt himself grow warm in all the wrong places, and for
all the wrong reasons. Dammit, he had to stop reacting like a
teenage boy with the hots. This woman might someday be his
sister-in-law.
    She stopped beating the rug when Deke rode
up. Sweat trickled down her forehead.
    "Hi," she said shyly.
    "Hi, Emma. Where's Sammie Jo?" Maybe he did
need to find himself a woman, cause Emma was sure reminding him how
long it had been since he'd been near one. Every move she made
alerted him to his own body.
    "Asleep. She still likes a nap every day."
Her eyes traveled him slowly.
    "Well, I guess Clint talked to you about the
dance tonight, didn't he?" Deke asked hoping his brother hadn't
forgotten.
    "He mentioned something about a dance." She
went back to beating the rug.
    "Are you going?" Deke blurted out when she
didn't respond with an answer.
    "Me?" She whipped about to face him. "I
wasn't asked, and besides, I have a baby, remember. I don't do
dances anymore."
    Damn, maybe Sammie Jo was the reason Clint
hadn't asked. Maybe Clint didn't even see her as eligible. Built in
baby-sitters didn't grow on trees. Still, there was dad. "I
remember, but I'm sure Dad would enjoy watching her. They really
get along well. Don't be shy about asking. I'm surprised he hasn't
said something to you about it," Deke said watching her face. He
hadn't