Sugar Plums for Dry Creek & At Home in Dry Creek by Janet Tronstad

arrangements than he was.
    â€œI hope you’ve got room in those tights for some knee pads,” Pete finally said, but he said it like thefight had al ready gone out of him. “I’d hate to bang up your knees too bad when I bring you down.”
    â€œMy knees will do just fine,” Judd said.
    Pete was silent for a moment. “You don’t sup pose the guys are going to come to see this ballet thing, do you?”
    Judd grunted. He figured there was about as much chance of the guys not coming to see this particular ballet production as there was of those pigs deciding to fly down the main street of Dry Creek. No, he and Pete were doomed to be every one’s merry entertainment for the holidays.
    â€œYou’d be welcome to come over to my place and hang out for a couple of days after the show if you want,” Judd offered. He knew what a bunk house could be like when it came to teasing. “You could tell people you’d gone on a trip or something.”
    â€œI’ve been wanting to go to Hawaii.”
    â€œWell, maybe you could take that trip then. Winter’s a slow time in ranching,” Judd said.
    â€œCan’t afford to really go,” Pete said.
    â€œWell, then I’ll just put some Hawaiian music on and turn up the heat in the spare room.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” Pete said. “That doesn’t mean I won’t hit you hard when I can, but I do appreciate it.”
    Judd understood. Pete could no more take it easy on him than Judd could run away when Pete cameafter him. Even though Lizette had not told them how the fight turned out, Judd figured any one who was named King, even if it was Mouse King, was the one who won the battle. Judd supposed Pete figured it the same way; the cow boy sure didn’t look worried that he’d lose.
    When the rest of the dancers came back to begin practice, Judd and Pete were both ready. Judd wondered what kind of non sense he’d let him self in for. But he was a man of his word, and one thing he knew for sure—Lizette was counting on him to dance a part. His might not be the best part in the whole ballet, but it was the part she needed and he was willing to play it for her.
    Judd only hoped Lizette thought he was doing it for the kids. He wouldn’t want her to know he’d taken one look at her disappointed face and agreed to make a fool of him self. No, a man had to have some pride, even if he was a nut cracker.

Chapter Eight
    J udd ached. It was Sunday morning, and he’d got ten the kids up and dressed for Sunday school like he’d promised them, but his body ached all over. Just a few months ago, he’d loaded two tons of hay bales by hand with nothing more than leather gloves and a metal hook. He hadn’t felt a single ache in his body then. He was a man in the prime of his life. He was a rancher. But one day of ballet practice had about done him in.
    And they hadn’t even started practicing their parts yet. Lizette had just shown them some basic ballet steps. She said she was going to wait to practice the individual steps when she got the costumes she was borrowing from her old teacher and made sure they all fit.
    Lizette had taken a moment to tell both Judd and Pete that she was sure both of their costumes wouldfit. And if not, she said, she’d improvise. Judd figured it was her way of telling them they had no hope of escaping.
    After about an hour of ballet practice, Judd had stopped worrying about wearing tights. He didn’t care what he wore. He just hoped that the Nutcracker guy stood in one place and let the Mouse King plow into him. His body would hurt less that way than if he had to keep practicing.
    â€œCan you braid my hair?” Amanda stood in front of him after break fast with a blue rib bon in her hand.
    â€œOh, but it’ll look pretty if we just brush it and tie the rib bon around it,” Judd said. He’d never braided hair in his