King's Fancy

by Sable Hunter

  “Stop it, Fancy! Stop being so damn nice to me!”

  His exclamation hurt and confused her. “I’m sorry,” she began, then the absurdity of it made her angry. “What do you want me to do? Be mean to you?”

  King hung his head, feeling like a bastard. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, everything will be okay. I’ll ride back to the house and get help.” She got to her feet and headed over to the horses.

  “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

  “No, but I bet I can figure it out. How hard can it be?” She kept going. “It’s not like we have a choice.” Fancy took Windy by the halter and led her over to the buckboard. “I’ll just stand up on the back of the wagon and hop right up there,” she said, giving King an encouraging smile. “If you’ll hold her still, it’ll be easier.” She handed him the reins.

  “No.” He grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you break your damn neck. We don’t even have a saddle, you’d have to ride bareback.”

  “We don’t have a choice, King!” She fumed at him. “The wagon is busted, and you can’t walk or ride!”

  Before he could say anything else, she hiked up her skirt, giving King an intriguing view of a pair of surprisingly shapely legs. The view made his jaw drop and he lost his train of thought for a moment. The next thing he knew, she had one of those supple legs thrown over the horse and she was snatching at Windy’s mane trying to get a good hand hold.

  “Oh, goodness me.” Fancy’s stomach did a somersault, but she managed to sit up and grasp onto the sides of the horse with her knees. “Give me a few instructions, King.”

  King had never felt more helpless in his life. “Tug the reins lightly left or right to make her turn. Pull up on them gently to make her stop. Tighten your knees to make her go straight ahead.”

  Fancy gave him a dazzling smile. “Doesn’t sound too hard. Any tips on how to stay on?”

  King groaned. She was killing him. “Hold on to the reins with one hand and her mane with the other.” He knew if she fell off, she probably couldn’t get back on. “Maybe I can get up there and go myself.” He stared at the wagon, ascertaining if he could maneuver himself around.

  “Nope, too risky. You reinjure that leg and you might never walk the same again.” Knowing there was no use arguing about it, she tugged on the reins and held on for dear life. “Just sit easy, I can do this. I’ll have Reno or one of them back to get you soon.”

  King watched in terror as the horse took off and her small body careened from side to side. He expected her to fall off any second, but to his surprise, she held on until she was out of sight.

  … “Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy,” she chanted, praying that she didn’t slide off. This was not very smooth going, the men she’d seen ride made it look so easy. She wasn’t sure how far they’d come, she only hoped she could hang on long enough to make it back to the ranch.

  Meanwhile, King sat on the back of the wagon, staring at the countryside. He felt like his life had taken one too many wrong turns. When he was in college, learning how to be a gentleman planter, he’d never expected to go to war. He’d never expected to see men die, blown to bits by cannon fire. He’d never expected for the woman he loved to turn her back on him and cut his heart out by falling in love with his own blood brother. Finally, he’d never expected to build a home for himself and his friends in a wilderness overrun with Indians and wild animals. And Lord knows, he’d never expected Fancy.

  She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. All the females of his acquaintance were fragile hothouse flowers, far more concerned with their own welfare than with anyone else’s. Fancy seemed just the opposite, she consistently put herself last, always thinking of someone else first. Even when that someone treated her like a second-class citizen.

  As the minutes wore on, he warred with himself. Was he doing the right thing? He’d resented her because of the misunderstanding over the mail-order bride fiasco.

  But, that wasn’t her fault.

  He shouldn’t have to marry her, not if he wasn’t attracted to her.

  But, she hadn’t asked him to.

  At every turn, she’d been the one to sacrifice. “Aw, hell.” He ran his hand over the cast she’d made for him. He ought to be shot. Even now, she was putting herself at risk to help him, even as he was doing his dead-level best to get rid of her.

  * * *

  To Fancy’s surprise, she managed to stay on Windy’s back. She was just grateful the horse knew the way home. The trail was marked in places where years of wagon wheels had made a rut, but in rocky places, there were no tracks to be seen to follow. After an hour or more of bouncing on the horse’s bare back, she knew her posterior would be black and blue when all of this was over.

  As they traveled down the trail, she watched for landmarks. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she began to worry when nothing looked familiar.

  And then she saw it…

  “What in the world?” She stared, then blinked, then stared again. “A wagon!” Lifting one hand to wave in the air, she teetered on top of the horse and promptly fell off. “Ouch!”

  Fancy pulled herself right up, getting to her feet and brushing leaves and grass from her tattered garment. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to get help, she grasped Windy’s reins and started pulling her down the road. “Hello! Help!” As they drew a little closer together, Fancy could see a man and two women riding in a buckboard similar to King’s. “Help!” In a few moments, she came along even with them. “Oh, hello! I’m so glad to see you. We’ve had trouble.”

  “Trouble, you say?” A man about King’s age with a long black beard eyed Fancy with suspicion.

  “Yes, Mr. Kingston Ramsay was taking me back to catch the stagecoach and a rattler scared the horses. The wagon was damaged on the rocks and the team ran away. I managed to catch one and ride for help. One of King’s legs is in a cast and he can’t ride at all. Could you help us? He needs to return to King’s Ransom.”

  “Where abouts is he?” the man asked, rubbing his beard.

  “Farther on down the road.” She pointed behind her. “Maybe a mile, I’m not sure.”

  “Harvey, Mr. Ramsay is an important man, I feel like we should help him.” The pale, blonde woman whispered to her husband.

  “Yes, Troy is working the cattle drive for Mr. Ramsay.” The other woman added her thoughts to the conversation. “He’s a good man to befriend.”

  “Jump on the back and tie your horse to the railing.” The man jerked his thumb toward the back of the buckboard.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m Fancy Grace. What is your name?”

  The man narrowed his eyes, but he answered. “I’m Harvey Bohannon and this is my wife Milly. We’re homesteading not far from here.”

  “And I’m Gladys Hewitt. You aren’t Mr. King’s wife, are you?”

  “No, I…was working at the ranch. Things, uh, didn’t work out,” she answered as she secured Windy and climbed aboard for the ride. “I sure do appreciate this, I was trying to ride to the ranch for help, but this will be much quicker and much more comfortable for King.”

  “Why did you say you were leaving Mr. Ramsay’s employ?” Milly asked.

  Fancy considered what to say. “They prefer their cook to be a man.” That much was true. Shifting from one hip to the other, Fancy wanted to cry. Her bottom was as sore as a risen. “King was taking me back to town, I’ll be hunting other employment.”

  No one else said anything to her, so when she heard them begin to whisper, Fancy didn’t try to overhear. Instead, she talked to Windy, thanking her for being so accommodating. “You did good, I appreciate you letting me ride you. I’m sorry that snake scared you, I don’t like snakes either.”

  Soon, they arrived at the place where their accident occurred. “Look, he’s over there!” Fancy eased off the bed of the wagon and took off running toward King. “I’m back! I found help!” She raced up to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” He hobbled forward, anxious t
o see the identity of their Good Samaritans.

  Fancy stepped forward to make introductions. “King this is Mr. Harvey Bohannon and his wife Milly, and this is Mrs. Troy Hewitt, her first name is Gladys. Everyone, this is Mr. Kingston Ramsay. He’s a wonderful man.”

  “Do you always allow your domestics to be so familiar, Mr. Ramsay?”

  For a moment, King didn’t understand Harvey Bohannon’s question. When he did, he was still confused. “I admire politeness in most people, Mr. Bohannon.” Even as he chastised the stranger, he remembered what an ass he’d been in the past. “And I do appreciate you giving us a ride home. So, you bought land nearby?”

  While they spoke, Fancy ran to bring the other horse in to walk behind the wagon next to its teammate. When she returned, leading Stormy, the women met her along the path.

  “Can you cook?” Milly asked, looking down her nose at Fancy.

  “Yes, fairly well, I guess. The men at the ranch seemed to enjoy what I prepared.”

  “You talk uppity for a servant! What did they pay you? Do you have a price?” These questions came from Gladys.

  “I was there, more as a favor, they didn’t pay me.” Fancy thought she understood what the woman was asking. “I used to be an indentured servant, but I was able to buy my freedom.” As they passed the broken wagon, she retrieved her reticule.

  “You were the only woman with all those men. You didn’t do anything shameful, did you?” Milly asked with a hint of disdain in her voice.

  Fancy wasn’t sure what she meant. Shameful? She slopped the hogs. She emptied King’s bedpan. She’d even wrung a chicken’s neck. “No, not really.” They were nearing the spot where the men were standing near the Bohannon’s wagon.

  Gladys folded her hands primly at her waist. “Do you have prospects for future employment?”

  After the questions about her character, Fancy was surprised. She felt a glimmer of hope mixed with sadness. “No, I do not.”

  “We can only pay you five dollars a month, but there’s a room off the kitchen that you can have.”

  Harvey, hearing his wife’s offer, joined in. “There’s a lot to be done and we’ll expect you to work hard. I won’t put up with no slacker.”

  Fancy glanced at King, not because she expected him to intervene. No, she was gauging how she would feel being so close to him and the ranch. As heartbroken as she was about leaving, the one saving grace was knowing there would be distance between them. Fancy thought the miles apart would make it easier.

  But…the Bohannon’s seemed to be decent people. The work would be hard, but fair. Should she take this or risk whatever else she might find?

  King watched the emotions play across Fancy’s face. She was considering it. He wanted to shout ‘no’! He didn’t want her this close. He wanted her gone.

  Out of sight. Out of mind.

  “Can I think about it on the way to King’s Ransom?” Fancy asked, needing a little bit of time to get her thoughts together.

  “Time? You need time?”

  Apparently, Harvey found her request insulting, for he stepped right in front of her and shook his finger in her face. “After playing the whore at Ransom, you ought to get down on your knees and lick my boots in gratitude for even giving you a chance to work for me.”

  Fancy was furious. Now, she knew what the women were referring to when they asked if she’d done anything shameful while she was at King’s Ransom. She raised her voice in her own defense. “How dare you! I am not a whore!”

  “Don’t you shout at me, you little slut!”

  Before Fancy could blink, she was on the ground, knocked flying by Bohannon’s fist.

  King immediately saw red. With no thought at all, he just reacted. Raising his crutch, he swung it hard against the skinny man’s head, sending him reeling. His wife and her friend squealed in alarm and Fancy was taken completely off guard by King’s defense of her.

  Harvey Bohannan didn’t get up very fast, but when he did, he bowed up like a bull and charged King.

  King stopped him with the tip of his crutch in Bohannan’s chest. This didn’t stop the man’s screaming. “Why in the hell are you defending that little piece of worthless trash? You don’t want her, you were taking her back to town. What’s it to you?”

  “I may be a jackass at times, but I don’t strike defenseless women for no reason. Let me explain things to you, Bohannon. I’m going to do you a favor.” He patted the gun in the holster on his hip. “After you give me and Miss Grace a ride back to the ranch, I won’t even let my men kill you today. But if I ever hear of you hitting another woman, I’ll track you down and kill you myself.”

  Fancy stared at King in complete awe. She’d never had anyone stand up for her before. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and hug the stuffing out of him, but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the gesture.

  As for Bohannon and the women, they got into the wagon while King and Fancy climbed into the back, each holding the reins of one of the horses. As demanded, Harvey drove them to the ranch, barely slowing down long enough for them to get off, before urging his team away and disappearing into a cloud of dust.

  “I’m so sorry, King,” Fancy began, knowing this didn’t go the way he planned. “Maybe Reno can take me…”

  “King! Fancy!” Clay came running up, followed closely by the others. “What happened?”

  King glanced at Fancy. “We met with a little accident. A rattler spooked the horses. The buckboard is in pieces about three miles down the road in a little clearing.”

  “Are you two okay?” Reno noticed Fancy’s disheveled appearance and her torn dress. “Looks like you tangled with a wildcat.”

  “Fancy took care of everything. She chased down the horses and even rode one bareback to find help.”

  King’s words were high praise and made Fancy feel funny in the pit of her stomach.

  “I’ll take the other wagon and go pick up the pieces of the buckboard. Maybe it can be repaired,” Jericho told them with a relieved smile on his face. “I’m glad you two are none worse for wear.”

  “Do you think you could give me a ride to town later?” Fancy asked.

  King held up his hand. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible.”

  They all looked at King and Gentry stepped forward to stand by Fancy. “If you’ve got plans for Jericho, I can take her, Cap.”

  King shook his head. “No, you’re not understanding me. Until we can find a suitable male, Fancy will function as our cook and housekeeper. We’ll be paying her a wage.”

  Fancy swayed on her feet as King spoke, not sure she was hearing him right.

  “For the time being, Fancy’s not going anywhere.” King continued. “She’s staying.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I’m so happy, I could fly!” She whirled around the yard, her arms high over her head.

  King watched from a distance, unaware that Reno has walked up behind him. “You did a good thing.”

  “Maybe. I don’t want her to get comfortable, though. This is short term, just until we can find someone better and she can find somewhere to go.”

  Reno just shook his head and walked off, heading to the barn to check on the livestock.

  Standing beneath the apple tree, King could see Fancy’s happy face. Since returning from their harrowing experience, everything had become a celebration. She prepared a special meal for them all. She questioned each man about his likes and dislikes, even noting each one’s favorite dessert. He wanted to remind her that this was all temporary, just until they found someone more suitable and she found somewhere safe to go.

  During Fancy’s last twirl, she spotted King and their gazes locked. She looked behind her, to make sure there was no one else he could be studying with such intensity. When she saw no one, she turned back, wondering what she’d done to make him look so dour. Pasting a smile on her face, she ran toward him, determined to make him smile.

  “Hey, King! How’s your leg feeling?”

  “Better
every day.”

  “Good.” She pointed at a small area behind his log house, a fairly flat patch with no rocks. “Do you think I could plant a fall garden back there?”

  He didn’t think she’d be there that long, but they could always use fresh vegetables. “Yea, I’ll see what I can do. The next one who goes to town can get some of whatever they have at the mercantile store.”

  “Good, thank you!” She almost hooked her hand through his arm, stopping herself just in time. Fancy knew she was going to have to work on that, her nighttime fantasy life was trying to intrude into her daytime real one. In her dreams, they were a couple and she could touch him anytime she chose.

  “Make a list of seeds you want and also put down your sizes.” He cleared his throat, as if what he was saying was hard for him.

  Fancy didn’t understand. “Sizes? Of vegetables?”

  King chuckled. “No, clothes. Write down what size clothes you wear.” He pointed to her freshly patched dress. “That one’s a little worse for wear.”

  Soothing her palms over the thin material, she nodded. “Yes, thank you.” The prospect of a new dress was heady. “You don’t have to buy ready-made clothes, if you’d just get a piece of material, I can make a dress.”

  “We’ll find a dress.”

  Fancy literally trembled with excitement. “Please, take it out of any salary you might put back to pay me.”

  “We’ll see.” He wasn’t going to argue about money. He’d seen her talking to Gentry and the others, returning the funds they’d pressed upon her the day he’d attempted to take her back to town.

  “Just don’t get pink,” she said, then broke out into a big smile.

  King felt his heart churn in his chest. “Okay, no pink.” Although, he was pretty sure pink would look just fine on her.

  She gripped her hands into fists, and bounced on her tiptoes. “I’m so happy, I don’t know what to do!”