King's Fancy Page 15

  Seeing that she might implode with excitement, he took his leave. “I’m going to hobble out and check on the horses.”

  “Okay, be careful, don’t step into any gopher holes.”

  Her unique sendoff stayed with him while he and his crutches made tracks.

  … “When will Domino be back?” Fancy asked at dinner as she passed a platter of biscuits around the table.

  “The drive itself is a thousand miles long and they move the cattle on average about twenty-five miles a day.” Reno did the math. “They might lose a day or two because of weather or some other emergency and he’ll probably take the stagecoach back…” He thought another second or two. “I figure in about three weeks, he’ll be riding over the ridge.”

  “I hope everything is going okay with him,” she observed, then glanced around, seeing all the places filled except King’s and one more. “Where’s Jericho?”

  King leaned his crutches against the paneled wall behind him, then eased down into his chair. “He should be back any minute, he rode up Packsaddle Mountain to look for strays.”

  She nodded, making sure everyone’s drinking glasses were full. “I’ll fix him a plate and keep it warm.” As she moved down the table, she noticed the youngest member of the group’s glum face. “What’s wrong, Ace?”

  He leaned his head into his upturned palm and just picked at his food, which was highly unusual for the young man. “Today is Amelia’s birthday.”

  “Oh.” Immediately, Fancy felt sorry for him. “I know you miss her.” She didn’t know what else to say, but she saw Gentry and King exchange an odd look. Something was up.

  About that time, the door opened, and Jericho came barreling in with a concerned look on his face. He held his rifle in his hand. Boone jumped up to meet him. “What’s up, Wright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I think I did.” He took off his hat and looked from one to the other of his friends. “When I found those heifers, they were lowing and carrying on, I knew something was bothering them. Looking around, I didn’t see anything, but as I was herding them down a narrow gorge, I heard it.”

  When Jericho paused for breath, he had everyone on the edges of their seats.

  “Well, what did you hear, my good man!” Gentry exclaimed. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”

  “A cougar! My heifers started running and my horse went crazy, slamming me into the rock wall. When I looked up, I saw it, a cougar. A snow-white cougar.”

  “An albino,” King stated. “How big?”

  Jericho spread his arms wide. “Huge.”

  “Did you kill it?” Clay asked, his eyes wide.

  “Didn’t have a shot.”

  King held his hand out, slicing through the air, horizontally. “Let’s leave it be. For now. I’d rather not kill it if we didn’t have to. They’re too rare.”

  Fancy was glad to hear him say that, she didn’t want to think of the cougar dying.

  For the rest of the meal, the men discussed the big cat and other wildlife sightings they’d had throughout the years. After she finished eating, she dealt with the dishes as they consumed a cake she’d baked for dessert. Once they were through and gathered around the fireplace to continue their talk, she put on a couple of kettles for a bath. Most nights, she made do with a basin and a wash cloth, but tonight she thought she’d take advantage of their attention being elsewhere. King had set up a tub in the room behind the kitchen, to have easy access to empty the used bathwater out of doors. As she drew water and added it to the tub, her excitement mounted. A long soak would be divine.

  King sat in his big leather chair in front of the fire while the men lounged around him, some on chairs, others on the floor. They were telling stories, trying to outdo the other with accounts of their experiences. Some were true, and some were probably a product of whiskey and a good imagination. King smiled as a sense of peace enveloped him. They were safe, content, and their bellies were full of fine food.

  “I swear that rattlesnake was longer than I was and as big around as my arm.” Boone held his hand up in the air. “Twelve rattlers on its tale too. A monster.”

  “That’s nothing, one day I saw a big bird,” Ace chimed in.

  “You did?” Jericho asked. “How big? Was it an eagle?”

  “No!” Ace’s eyes grew wide. “His wingspread was as wide as this room.” He spread his arms out like wings. “Bigger than I’d ever seen before.”

  Clay shook his head. “That’s not possible, Ace. You’re stretching the truth.”

  “No, I’m not. I saw it when I was with the Indians, it swooped down and picked up this deer and took it off into the sky.”

  “Awww, you’re joshing with us,” Jericho laughed.

  “No, I’m not.” Ace insisted. “The Indians called it…a…” He tried to think. “I can’t remember the word.”

  “Thunderbird.” Reno inserted. “They call it a thunderbird. A monster of a bird. Some tribes worship it.”

  Jericho’s eyes were as bugged as Ace’s. “Is it real?”

  Reno shrugged his shoulders. “Some say so. Some say it’s left over from the stone age.”

  “I can beat you all,” Boone leaned his chair back against the wall. “One day, when we first came out west, I saw something I’ll never forget.”

  “What?” Ace asked in a hushed voice.

  King covered his mouth, so no one could see him smile. This reminded him of the nights he’d sit around the campfire back home and tell ghost stories with his friends.

  “I never told any of y’all, because I thought you’d think I was crazy.”

  Gentry chuckled. “We already think you’re crazy. So, go ahead.”

  Boone balled his fist up and shook it at Gentry in a teasing threat. “What I saw was beyond explanation. I was out riding the range one evening, just before sundown, when I heard an odd noise. I looked around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but I could still hear it.” He paused for effect. “And then I looked up, and high above me was an object, monstrous in size, rapidly approaching from the west. It looked like a ship in the sky, fish-shaped, like a cigar with a tail and there was some type of fan shaped contraption on the back that was spinning. I could see drawings on the side and figures looking out the windows.”

  “Are you serious?” Reno asked, taking a sip of whiskey, his eyes narrow and searching.

  “Completely.” Boone held up his hand. “Swear to God.”

  “Where do you think it came from?” Ace asked in an almost reverential tone.

  “I don’t know.” Boone shrugged. “Don’t have a clue.”

  “From the skies. Another world. Maybe heaven itself.” Clay leaned forward in the chair he was sitting in, close to the fire, resting his forearms on his knees. “In the Bible, the prophet Elijah didn’t die, he was caught up to heaven in a chariot of fire, a wheel within a wheel. Maybe that’s what you saw.”

  Reno chuckled. “So, you’re saying angels didn’t come after Elijah, it might have been men from the stars?”

  “Maybe they’re the same thing,” Gentry mused. “Who knows?”

  King sat up, reaching for his crutches. “All of your tall tales have just about put me to sleep. Stay up as long as you want, just bank the fire and lock up for me when you’re through.”

  “Goodnight, King,” Ace piped up. “Sleep good.”

  “I will, buddy.” King propped up on one crutch and waved goodnight as everyone chimed in their well wishes for his night’s rest. Needing a drink of water before bedtime, King made his way to the kitchen.

  …In her bath, Fancy sighed blissfully. Nothing had ever felt so good. The soreness in her backside was subsiding and the stiffness in her muscles from all the work she’d been doing was melting away in the warm water. She could’ve gone to sleep easily, but the water was cooling and the raised voices from the front made her think it wouldn’t be long before the men dispersed. She’d do well to get out now, while the getting was good. Fancy had no desire for anyone to catch
her in an embarrassing position. Placing her hands on the side of the tub, she pushed to her feet…

  King made his slow way into the kitchen, making for the water barrel to dip himself a drink. A noise from the back pantry caused him to raise his head and what he saw almost stopped his heart. Fancy was rising from the big tin tub like a sea nymph rising from the sea.

  He froze. He couldn’t move.

  The lamp she’d lit cast a glow that gave her pale skin the sheen of a pearl. Water droplets clung to her body, a body such as he’d never expected in a million years. Yes, she was slender – but God above, she was exquisitely shaped. A narrow waist, gently flared hips, and a pair of high, firm breasts that almost brought him to his knees. Her hair hung down her back in gentle waves and swayed as she dried herself. King would’ve given everything he owned to be that rough cloth, rubbing over her body, caressing her breasts. And when she reached between her legs, he almost lost his footing. “Holy Merciful Heaven.” He had no idea she was so beautiful.

  Oblivious to his observation, she stepped out, a move more graceful than any he’d ever imagined. Turning to the side, she dried each arm. King could see the sweet swell of her perfect tits. His cock filled to bursting and it took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from going to her, falling at her feet, and begging for permission to touch her.

  He swayed, almost losing his footing. His response to her unnerved him. “I have to get out of here,” he whispered to himself. As quickly and quietly as he could, he left the kitchen, his thirst forgotten in a haze of lust so great, it stole his ability to breathe.

  A noise to her right brought Fancy whirling around. She prayed no one had wandered to the kitchen to see her. She would be mortified. To her immense relief, no one was in sight. In great haste, she pulled on her shift, then proceeded to empty the tub, one bucket at a time, finishing up by drying the floor where she’d splashed a bit of water.

  A room away, King moved as swiftly to the front of the house as he could with his mending leg and crutches.

  “What’s wrong, Cap?” Gentry asked, noticing King making for the door.

  “Just need some air,” was his only explanation as he pushed out and inhaled the chilly air in gulps.

  …After she’d finished cleaning up from her bath, Fancy scurried to the room she’d been occupying. She didn’t have any lotions or salts, but the soap she’d used made her feel fresh and clean. Removing the shift, she slipped on her gown and brushed her hair, then knelt beside the bed to say her prayers. She wasn’t sure if anyone heard her whispered entreaties, but doing it felt better than not.

  King sat out on the porch, staring at the night sky for a while after the men had moved from his cabin to their own. Seeing the image of Fancy Grace standing nude as the day she was born had sapped him of his strength. He’d felt tempted beyond reason to sweep her off her feet and into his bed. His escape from her presence had been necessary. The fresh air had strengthened his resolve to resist the woman who’d somehow managed to go from homely to beautiful when he wasn’t looking.

  After enough time had passed for his dick to return to normal size, King ventured back into the house, making as little noise as possible. To get to his room, he had to pass the one where Fancy slept. Before now, he’d never felt this inexplicable draw, this aching urge to walk in and lay claim to a woman who’d already assented to belonging to him. His brain understood the reasons why it would be a bad idea, but the rest of his body and soul didn’t agree. They were making demands, causing him to want things he hadn’t let himself enjoy in a long time.

  As he neared her door, he stopped. He could hear her speaking. Who was she talking too? For a split second, jealousy and anger knifed through King like a bayonet. Did she have someone in her room? Was one of his men betraying him? He didn’t stop to think about the logic of his feelings, he only knew how he felt. With a jerky movement, he came even with her door. It was cracked, and he could see her kneeling by the bed.

  “Please let me stay here. I want to belong somewhere so much. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I probably don’t deserve it, but if you’ll give me a home of my own, and somebody to love, I’ll take care of them with all that’s in me. I know what I’m asking is a tall order and I apologize for sounding greedy. If you’ll just make it so he…”

  King wasn’t a religious person, but if anyone had sway with the man upstairs, it was this scrappy little woman. “Fancy…”

  Fancy’s eyes sprung open. “Oh, no.” Had he heard? She turned to meet King’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “You do realize that what you’re asking for isn’t going to happen.”

  Desperation and sorrow fueled her words. “Please, King. I will do everything in my power to make you want to keep me.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, Fancy.” He pushed aside his wants and needs. “Like we agreed, when we find someone suitable, you’re going to have to make other arrangements. This thing you’re imagining between you and me is not going to happen.”

  “Oh, I know.” She jumped up and padded over to him barefoot. “I didn’t mean that. I know nothing is going to happen between us. I want to impress you, not scare you.” She hung her head. “Before I came, I wondered why a man like you would want me,” she laughed wryly. “I thought it was my bravery, I knew it couldn’t be my looks.”

  “Your bravery?” he asked, his heart beating so hard, he thought it might burst.

  “Oh, nothing, I’m talking about the fire and the article in the newspaper, I thought you’d seen that.”

  “You were in a fire?”

  “No, two children were trapped in a burning house and I…got there in time.” She raced off from the topic, to another equally uncomfortable one – but it had to be said. “Really, you don’t have to worry about me. You know, I dreaded you seeing me naked.”

  Her words made every part of his body as stiff as a board, especially his manhood. “What?”

  “Especially after I saw how beautiful you are, I couldn’t imagine giving myself to you. I’m skin and bones, no breasts, no hips. Scarred and ugly.” She held out her hands to show him the scars.

  King was amazed. The woman was as blind to her charms as he’d been. Gazing at her palms, he was amazed he’d never noticed the marks before. “From the fire?”

  “Yes, so don’t worry, I’m relieved. I won’t have to see the look in your eyes when you see me.”

  King bowed his head. God, if she only knew. “Let’s not talk about this, there’s no need.”

  To Fancy’s dismay, he left her standing there alone. “I think I made everything worse.”

  Her voice carried, and King couldn’t disagree. Things were worse, he was so damn hard, he couldn’t walk. Frustrated with himself and her, he slammed his door.

  Fancy jumped at the loud noise. He was angry. She hugged herself tight. When was she going to learn to be satisfied and not want things she’d never have? Fancy didn’t know. Even now, all she wanted to do was think of new ways to make him glad she was here.

  In his room, King stripped off his clothes and lay on the bed naked. He’d never been so turned on, or so disgusted at himself for being so. What was wrong with him? He knew the folly of getting involved with a woman. Especially one like Fancy. She might not admit it, but she wanted forever. She deserved someone who could give her forever, not a man who’d lost the ability to feel. To trust. To love.

  The only trouble was – he hadn’t lost the ability to want.

  The throbbing ache in his loins was driving him crazy and King’s hand moved down to clasp his engorged cock. His breathing grew ragged as he began to massage his shaft with long, sure strokes. In his mind’s eyes, he could see Fancy’s gorgeous nude body glistening in the lamplight. He groaned, thinking how it would’ve been if he’d walked in where she was and blanketed her back, sliding his hands around to caress her breasts, then down to cup her heart-shaped ass, then slipping up her creamy thighs to find her tender pussy. His strokes turned quick and h
ard as he imagined what it would feel like to sink his hungry dick deep into her velvet channel, to pump his need into her wet heat – over and over. As he fisted himself faster and faster, his body bowing and tightening, his orgasm ripped through his body, exploding with white-hot intensity. “Fancy!” Her name slipped from his lips, a harsh whisper floating on the night air.

  * * *

  After a restless night, King was up earlier than usual. He dreaded seeing Fancy, not really knowing what to say to her after their exchange the night before. All the events of the evening, from watching her sensual rise from the tub, to jacking off to the erotic memory, they were running together, forming a jumble of confusing emotions in his head.

  When he entered the kitchen, he fully expected her to be there. Finding it empty, surprised him. Glancing around, he didn’t see the coffee brewing, or any makings for breakfast. Where was she?

  “Fancy!” He rushed to her room as fast as the damn crutches would allow. The door had been closed, he just assumed she was up and about. What if she were sick?

  After throwing open the door, he found the room empty.

  What if she’d left?

  He pulled open the top drawer on the dresser and found it empty. He pulled the next one and found it empty too.

  “Fancy!”

  A noise from outside drew his attention, a lilting laugh. He closed his eyes and exhaled long and hard.

  Turning, he made his way to the back door of the cabin and threw it open to see Fancy coming from the henhouse with a basket of eggs, flowers entwined in her hair.

  “King, I’m making something new this morning. Omelets. Gentry told me how, I think you’ll like them!”

  He gave her a wave, thinking he would enjoy most anything she did for him.

  Fuck, he was in trouble.

  After breakfast, King asked Reno to stay as everyone else was leaving. “When you make the mail run tomorrow, Reno, I need you to pick up some things. Fancy?” he called to get her attention from where she was rinsing plates at the dishpan.

  “Yes?” Turning to look at the two men sitting at the table, she couldn’t keep the blush off her cheeks. Every time she made eye contact with King, she remembered the embarrassing things she’d said to him. Inappropriate things. Not topics an employee should discuss with her employer. The problem was that she didn’t feel about him like one felt for their boss or superior. Fancy harbored very tender feelings for the man. No matter the futility of her emotions, on some level, Fancy considered him to belong to her.