by Sable Hunter
Once they were standing in the front room, Fancy took in her surroundings. The place was cluttered, but well-built. Sturdy. She couldn’t say it looked homey, she didn’t really know what that was like. Because no one was saying anything, she cleared her throat and opened her mouth, hoping something would come out. “Hello, Mr. Ramsay. Nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting me into your home.” She stood her ground, but Fancy felt like she might collapse at any moment. This was awful. She felt like she was standing on some gallows, awaiting execution.
Normally, King would have removed his hat in the presence of a lady, this time he didn’t. He addressed his men, completely ignoring the fact that the woman had spoken to him. To say he was suspicious was putting it mildly. “What’s going on?”
Boone spoke up. “King, we have a confession.”
King felt his hackles rise. “You went and did it, didn’t you?”
No one said a word.
Fancy’s heart was beating so hard and fast, she thought she might faint.
Since no one was talking, King just continued. “You did it, even with me telling you not to. When I agreed to hire another cook, I specifically told you that I didn’t want a female. Now, you’ve brought her out all this way for nothing!”
Boone swallowed. Their Captain’s face was red, and Fancy looked like a ghost. “We didn’t ask her to be the cook.” Actually, they hadn’t asked Fancy to be anything. But that minor technicality was neither here nor there at this point.
“You didn’t?” King gritted his teeth, his jaw tense, his body on edge. “What did you do, Boone?”
“It wasn’t just Boone.” Jericho spoke up, finding a bit of courage.
“That’s right.” Clay piped up and added his two cents. “Boone didn’t do this by himself. We were all in on it.”
“That is correct, Kingston.” Gentry added his voice to the chorus.
“I was a little late to the party,” Reno added, “but I did pick up Fancy in town and escorted her to the ranch.”
“What the hell are you saying?” King narrowed his eyes and surveyed his friends. “In on what?”
“We were worried about you,” Jericho mumbled.
“No. Oh, God, no.” King groaned and rubbed his eyes.
Fancy wanted to sink through the floor. This was so humiliating. If she’d known then what she knew now, she’d never ever sent out a request for a husband.
Boone took a deep breath and just let the truth fly. “We found one of those catalogs with letters from women hunting a husband and we picked you out a mail-order bride.”
CHAPTER FIVE
All his life, King had been amazed how fast a day could go south faster than a coal car on a greased downhill track. “A bride?” He glanced at Fancy, completely dumbstruck. “You told this…this woman…I’d marry her?”
“Well…” Boone got one word out of his mouth before King exploded.
“I don’t want a wife! I don’t need a wife!” He paced back and forth in front of the big stone fireplace. “Knowing how I felt, you went behind my back and made promises for me that you had no right to make!” He threw his hands up in the air and then pointed at Fancy. “And this is the woman you chose?”
“Cap…” Reno said the word with a hint of warning.
King drew his black hat farther down his forehead. “How could you ever imagine I would want this woman as my wife?”
Fancy had had enough! So, this man didn’t want her, she might’ve known this was too good to be true. Still, he had no right to be so rude. “Stop! Quit yelling at your friends!”
Her sudden exclamation took them all by surprise. Even King stopped pacing to look at her.
“Of course, they didn’t choose me,” she murmured softly, laughing, hiccupping a sob. “Who would choose me? Your friends were fooled. This was a trick. Payback.”
“You tricked them? How? By putting in some phony picture of your prettier cousin so men wouldn’t know your true appearance?” He sneered at her, so angry he could have bitten the thorns off cactus.
The men shuffled uneasily on their feet.
“So, I didn’t trick you or them.” Fancy hung her head. “The joke was on me as much as it was on you.”
“What is she talking about?” King only gave the woman a scathing glance. Looking at her brought him no pleasure whatsoever.
Clay cleared his throat as he placed a hand on Boone’s shoulder, saying to him without words that he had this. “Unfortunately, the agent with the Hearts and Hands matrimonial column recognized your name.”
“What do you mean?” King felt like he was asking the same question over and over again and receiving no comprehensible answer.
“You see, Captain,” Gentry said, trying to be clear and rational, “unbeknownst to any of us, the agent we were dealing with was none other than Jubal Pierce. We sent a letter enquiring after another young woman and Jubal, seeing your name, decided to interfere. He chose this woman to take the place of the one we selected and then led this poor woman to believe the offer was for her.”
Hearing it all put so plainly, Fancy blanched with humiliation. She felt so vulnerable and raw, listening to these men discuss her as if she was a flawed shell without feelings.
“Jubal!” King spat out the name like it tasted bad. “What an unholy mess! He’s still striking out at me. What did he think would happen? Did he think I would marry this…woman just because she showed up on my doorsteps?” He nailed Reno with a stare, then turned it on Boone and the others. “I don’t care what kind of beauty you picked out for me, did you think I would just fall at her feet and beg for her hand?”
“Well, you didn’t see Anita Mae Droddy.” Jericho chuckled nervously. “I think you might’ve done just that.”
“Well, there’s nothing else to do.” King placed his hands on his hips and met Fancy’s eyes. “You’ve got to take her back. The cattle drive starts tomorrow, as soon as we get those doggies transferred into the hands of the trail boss, she’s gone. For now…” he waved his hand disparagingly, “get her out of my sight.”
His disparaging attitude angered Fancy. “This is not my fault!”
“That doesn’t mean I have to marry you!” He snapped, his face contorted in anger. “I wouldn’t…couldn’t… You aren’t the type of woman I could ever stomach…”
“I understand that now!” Fancy cut him off. “I was stupid to think you’d chosen me because of something good I’d done.” She covered her eyes, then dashed tears from her cheeks. “This is a mess.” She took a deep breath, then sighed. “I came in good faith, but I understand you didn’t ask for this. Your friends only had good intentions. The person responsible for the mistake isn’t here. So, in a way, we’re all innocent of wrongdoing.”
“She’s right, Cap.” Clay, ever the peacemaker, sought to bring things down a notch. “Why don’t we just take it easy and get ready for tomorrow.”
King dry-scrubbed his face. “You’re right. There isn’t anything to be done about the matter now.”
He lifted his eyes and nailed Fancy with a stare.
“What’s your name, Miss?”
Fancy was exhausted. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be here long enough for you to remember.”
When he just glared her, she relented. “Fancy. Fancy Grace.”
His snort of derision was not unexpected. Fancy ignored it.
“Well, we’ve got a lot to do. No one has time to babysit you. So, just stay out of trouble until we get back,” King said, then stomped off, leaving Fancy with the others.
“Sorry about this, Miss Fancy,” Jericho muttered as he took his leave. He’d been the most vocal about the misunderstanding, but he seemed to have mellowed after hearing everyone’s point of view.
“Yes, just make yourself comfortable and we’ll take you back tomorrow.” Boone pointed to the rear of the house. “There’s a spare room back there, you can place your things in it.”
Fancy felt odd, another man welcoming her into King’s home. �
��Okay, I’ll stay out of the way and out of trouble until you all return.”
Boone, Clay, and Reno just tipped their hats as they all filed from the room and out the door, leaving Fancy behind to fend for herself.
She stood frozen for a few seconds, letting the ramifications of all that had happened flow over her. In just a short amount of time, she’d been swept from a mountain top of elation to the valley of despair. Now, what was she going to do? Where was she going to go? She’d quit the last job she’d held with Mr. Wilkins, and she really had no desire to go back and beg him to let her return to the drudgery of taking care of his ungrateful family. No, she would truly be starting over somewhere new, with nothing, as usual.
Just imagining what was in store for her made Fancy tremble. She’d never felt so alone in all her born days. In her mind, she’d built up this fantasy world where she’d walk into Kingston Ramsay’s life and it would be a fairy tale. He’d fall instantly in love with her and she’d set out on the wondrous task of making him glad he’d taken a chance on her. “Oh, poop,” she whispered, as she remembered the flights of fancy – cooking him meals, taking care of his home...giving him children.
Oh, well, so much for that.
Glancing around, she took in the state of the house. Everything was covered in dust, there were clothes and other clutter lying around. Maybe she could straighten a few things, it would give her something to do. Checking everything out, she went in search of some cleaning implements. After wandering from one room to the other, she had to admit the house was wonderful, all it needed was a woman’s touch. Her heart sank at the thought. Hopefully, King would open his heart and find someone someday. It wouldn’t be her, but everyone deserved happiness. Fancy was sure he was a nice man, he had so many friends. Just because he wanted nothing to do with her, she couldn’t really judge him for that. They’d both been caught up in very strange circumstances.
As she crept through his house like a small, sad, ghost, she came upon the kitchen and saw it was badly in need of attention. Placing her hands on her hips, she decided to use the hours before her in a productive way.
... “Who are you?”
The young male voice caused Fancy to jump a country mile. She’d been working steadily for a good three hours, taking a break only long enough to drink a mug of water and eat the heel from a stale loaf of bread. Hopefully, the food wouldn’t be missed, and if it were, maybe King wouldn’t mind her eating it. During this time, she’d dusted all the furniture, swept and mopped the floors, and cleaned the kitchen of dirty pots and pans. She’d also found enough provisions in the root cellar and the smokehouse to make a big pot of soup, a ham, two pones of cornbread, three plain sugar pies, and several dozen syrup cake cookies. At least they’d all eat well tonight…and tomorrow would be another day.
“Oh, you frightened me.” She held a hand over her fluttering heart. “I didn’t hear you come in. My name is Fancy.” The boy standing before her couldn’t have been any older than twelve or thirteen. His brown hair was longish, and his cheeks were rosy. He looked well cared for. “Who are you? Ace?”
“That’s right, I’m Ace.” His eyes brightened. “Boy, something smells good. Are you the new cook?”
“No.” Fancy shook her head. “Sorry. I’m just passing through.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now!” He proceeded to take a seat at the table. “Could you spare one of those cookies and some milk? I know there’s plenty to spare, I milked Betsy first thing this morning.”
“Of course. I found the milk hanging in the well to keep cool, I’ve worked in enough homes to know how it’s done. So, do you like living here?”
“The men are good to me. They took me in when I was stealing from them. Isn’t that something?” His smile grew wide as she handed him two cookies and poured a glass of milk. “My sister was kidnapped by Indians and my folks were killed in the raid.”
The way he spoke between and during bites, detailing the sorrows of his life like he was talking about the weather endeared the boy to Fancy. She understood how a person survived by treating such sorrows as if they weren’t earthshattering. “You are very lucky to have been found by these men. They seem to be very noble and kind.”
“Did they find you? Were you in trouble too?” he asked in all innocence.
“No, not really. Different circumstances.”
“These are really good,” Ace said, waving his second cookie in the air as he swallowed the last bite of his first one.
Fancy was just about to thank him when she heard the door open and bootsteps sounding on the floor. “I think we have company.”
“Something smells fantastic!” Gentry exclaimed as he came into the room, followed closely by King.
“Thank…you,” Fancy stammered, her hands waving about nervously. “I didn’t know what else to do with myself all day. If you’ll gather everyone up, I’ve prepared a meal.” She glanced at King who was frowning. “I hope that was okay.”
“A little damn late to be asking now,” he grumbled, but walked to the black stove to check in a pot. He’d had this monstrosity hauled from St. Louis on a wagon and this was the first time it had been used properly. After all the burnt attempts he and Jericho had managed on it, he was a little amazed at what this scrawny woman had been able to accomplish. “Looks fit to eat.”
Looks fit to eat? Fancy hid a smile. Not exactly a compliment, but she’d take it.
“Good. I’ll set the table for eight. I’m sure there’s plenty.”
“Nine!” Ace chimed in. “Counting you.”
“Oh, I don’t count,” Fancy said quickly as she went about putting plates and silverware on the table.
King heard her comment, but said nothing to challenge it.
As she readied everything, the men came in one by one. Some commented on the aroma, some complimented Fancy on the way the house looked. Soon, they were all sitting around the table and she was serving up the food, passing the dishes around the table.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Boone asked.
“Uh, no. If there’s anything left, and Mr. Ramsay doesn’t care, I’ll eat when you’re finished.”
King pressed his lips into a hard, straight line. “Eat. Why wouldn’t you eat? You cooked it.”
Fancy didn’t say anything about the many times she’d gone hungry, even after preparing sumptuous meals for the people who owned her. “Thank you.”
After everyone was eating, she took a bowl and ladled a small portion of soup into it, taking a seat next to the stove. Periodically, someone would look over at her, but for the most part – they just kept eating. And eating.
Finally, Ace broke the silence. “King, I think Fancy should be our cook. We could eat like this every day.” He glanced around. “And everything looks so good. I didn’t know the house was so dirty until I could see it all cleaned up.”
Jericho chuckled. “She has my vote.” He looked over at Fancy. “How about it? Since the marrying thing isn’t going to work out, why not let her stay and work for us?”
Fancy was ashamed of the hope that flashed through her. Yes, she’d been sorely disappointed. Mortified, in some ways. Yet the possibility of finding a place here, even in the role of a servant, was so much better than the idea of returning to the city to begin the search for a way to survive. “Oh, yes, please.” She set the bowl she’d been eating from on the floor and jumped up, her eyes clashing with King’s. “I’m strong. I can do anything in the house, whatever you need down in the cabins, or elsewhere. I can garden. I can chop wood. I can cook. I can do the washing. I could take care of you – all of you.”
All the men turned to King, awaiting his verdict. He took another bite, swallowed it, then shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” Boone asked, seeing the stricken look on Fancy’s face.
King shook his head. “It wouldn’t work, I wouldn’t be comfortable.” He didn’t say ‘because I said so’, but it was implied.
After King’s decree and
seeing no one was going to argue with him, Fancy gave up. She didn’t finish her food. There was a lump in her throat. She was in the depths of despair.
As soon as everyone finished, she began to pick up and clean the kitchen. The men didn’t linger, and a very downcast Ace took his leave, heading out to bunk with Reno. As Fancy worked, King left the room, only returning when she was about finished. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.”
“Okay, just a moment.” Fancy went to find her reticule. “All right. I’m ready.”
King led her to the east side of the house, opening the door to admit her to a small room containing an army cot and an army blanket. “Sorry for the sparse accommodations.” She noted that he didn’t sound sorry. “The outhouse is just out the backdoor. There’s a washbasin on the table by the window, you can fill it in the kitchen. There’s a towel on the doorknob. Don’t get too comfortable, you’re not staying.”
His hard attitude ate at her like ants crawling on her skin. “I understand. Thank you, this is wonderful.” Without another word, he left her. She couldn’t find the will to be angry at him, he hadn’t asked for this, he hadn’t asked for her. Fancy opened her bag and drew out her threadbare gown. As she handled the worn material, tears began to flow, and she couldn’t hold back the sobs.
A few steps away, King heard her. Despite his resolve, he felt regret at how everything played out. His men had made a mistake, but with the best intentions. And this woman, who was sobbing her heart out, was an innocent. Caught up in the situation through no fault of her own. He spoke before he could stop himself. “It’ll be all right. Goodnight.”
Fancy undressed, she had no fear that he would disturb her. Knowing he was within hearing distance, she spoke to him. “This isn’t a good night for me. This will be the worst night I’ve ever spent.” She tugged the gown over her head. “And I’ve spent some horrible ones, believe me. I’ve lived on the streets. I’ve been in jail. I’ve been beaten and hungry. But this is worse, because this morning I had hope and now I have none.”