King's Fancy Page 16
“Reno’s going to town, make that list we were talking about. Put down the seeds you want, those sizes I asked you for, and any staples or supplies you think we might need.”
She couldn’t help but tremble with excitement. “Okay, I’ll do it. Thank you so much.” Glancing at Reno, she smiled. “I’ll do it right now, and bring you the list as soon as I’m through.”
“There’s a pencil and paper in the drawer of the table by the fireplace,” King told her, observing the twinkle in her eyes. She was excited. He couldn’t help but wonder if another type of excitement would make her nipples hard.
“Okay.”
“And I’ll be at the barn, hooking up the old buckboard. It will be awhile before Jericho can make the repairs on the other one.”
“All right, I’ll hurry.” She sped off to do as she was asked.
Once she was out of the room, Reno grinned at King. “Sizes? What am I going to be buying? Female fripperies?”
“Get her everything you can find. A couple of dresses, a gown, shoes…undergarments.” He pulled money from his pocket. “If this isn’t enough, I’ll give you more.”
“I don’t mind contributing to the cause, Fancy deserves nice things.”
“Yes, she does,” King agreed. “Yes, she does.” He followed Reno to the door, then peered in at Fancy where she was sitting in his chair, writing her wishes down on paper. “Don’t forget chocolate, I’ve got a hankering for a chocolate cake.”
“I’ll make you one the moment Reno returns!” she promised. Fancy felt like she was celebrating all the past Christmases she’d missed, all in one fell swoop.
Once she was finished, Fancy took the list to Reno, then hurried to do the laundry. After washing the men’s shirts and pants in the washtub, she hung them on the line to dry. Next, she tackled the sheets, struggling to wring them out after washing. Getting them on the line was equally complicated, she was short, and she refused to let them drag the ground and get dirty again. As soon as she got the last one flung over the line, a strong breeze blew in and pushed the large, wet, flapping piece of material right into her face.
“Having trouble?”
Hearing the unexpected female voice, Fancy jumped, grabbing onto the sheet to keep from falling. “Hello.” Ducking under the sheet, she found the visitor to be Glady Hewitt, carrying a freshly baked cake.
“Good afternoon. Is your employer at home?”
Fancy wondered what this woman wanted with King. “Yes, let me take you in. Would you like me to carry that for you?” she asked, indicating the cake.
“No, I’d like to present it to him myself.”
Fancy was aware the woman kept her distance, being careful not to let any part of her brush any part of Fancy. She tried not to be affronted, it wasn’t like she had lice. “Very well, I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”
“So, I see he let you stay.” She sneered at Fancy. “How did you manage that?”
Fancy struggled for something to say. Finally, she just resorted to a true, but brief explanation. “Mr. Ramsay is a good man.”
“So, I understand.”
Moving ahead, as much to shorten the encounter as to be polite, she reached the door first and opened it for King’s guest. As soon as they were inside, Fancy walked through the house, finding him sitting at the dining room table, going through the ranch accounts. She hoped what he was spending on her wasn’t a problem. “King, excuse me, Mrs. Gladys Hewitt is here to see you.”
“Oh, really?” King stood, and accepted the crutches Fancy handed to him. “What does she want?”
“I don’t know,” Fancy admitted. “Although, she has a cake.”
King gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Beware women bearing gifts.”
Fancy giggled. “You might be right.” She lingered back while King went to see what the woman was there for. “I’ll prepare coffee.”
“All right, that’ll be good,” he agreed as he went through the door.
In the front room, King found the woman he’d learned was Troy Hewitt’s wife. She’d been with the Bohannon’s when they’d reluctantly given him and Fancy a ride on the back of their wagon after the accident. “Greetings, Mrs. Hewitt. What can I do for you?”
She held out the cake. “I came to apologize for my part in the unfortunate incident the other day.”
“No apology needed, it wasn’t your fault.” He indicated the low table. “Sorry, I can’t carry things and maneuver these crutches.”
Gladys Hewitt tittered a laugh. “Of course not, sorry.”
“Won’t you have a seat? Fancy will bring coffee as soon as the water boils.”
“Oh, thank you. Have you heard from the cattle drive?”
“No, not yet. Have you?”
“Yes, Troy sent me a telegram. They arrived in Kansas. He’s on his way back. I’m very excited. He’s escorting my sister as he comes, she’s going to be living with us.”
“How nice for you.” King was wishing she’d just get to the point of her visit.
“I’m hoping to introduce the two of you when she arrives. Would you accept an invitation to dinner?”
Ah, and there it was, King thought. “I don’t know, Mrs. Hewitt. I’m not one for socializing.”
She didn’t seem to be too put off by his waffling on the subject. “Well, we’ll see when the time arrives, won’t we? Perhaps I can persuade you to change your mind.”
Their voices carried, and Fancy couldn’t help but overhear. At the mention of the woman’s sister, a spike of jealousy struck her so hard she almost lost her balance. She leaned against the counter until the dizziness passed. As soon as the water boiled, she brewed the coffee, then poured the cups to place on a tray, along with saucers and cutlery for the cake, if they chose to have some. As she picked it up, to carry the tray to the front room, she could still hear them speaking.
“So, you’re from back east, Mr. Ramsay?”
“Yes, my father has a plantation near Knoxville, Tennessee.”
“Oh, really? I have relatives in Eastern Tennessee. What’s his name?”
“John Howard Ramsay.”
John Howard. The name sounded so familiar. For a moment, Fancy could hear the laughter of children playing and see the young boy flashing his toy sword in the air. She could remember the doorman telling Robin that his father was calling for him. His father’s name had been John Howard also, but there had been no surname of Ramsay at the end of it. She smiled sadly. How many times through the years had she clutched that old coin and longed to be Maid Marion once again? Too many to count.
“So, you’re a man of means, aren’t you, Mr. Ramsay? A plantation owner, no less.”
“My father and I parted ways, my brother inherited Magnolia Hall, I moved west to make my own fortune.”
“Family fences can be mended,” she proposed.
Fancy frowned, seeing through the woman’s veneer of polite conversation. She was fishing for information, hoping to set her sister up with a wealthy man. Anger for King grew in her breast. “Here’s the coffee. May I serve you cake?”
“If Mrs. Hewitt would like some, please do.” King gave his assent.
“Oh, none for me.” Gladys patted her ample hips. “I don’t need any. Save that cake for that passel of handsome, hungry men who live here.”
Fancy nodded, but proceeded to prepare their coffee according to their specific directions. Milk and sugar for her. Black for him.
“Fancy, you’ll have to forgive Harvey Bohannon for his outrageous behavior. He’s slightly uncouth.”
She nodded at Mrs. Hewitt. “No harm done, I’ve experienced worse at the hands of others.”
After seeing to their needs, she picked up the tray and left them once more. She wasn’t through the door before Gladys started talking about her. “Poor girl. You sure didn’t pick her for her looks. You know, people would be talking about your situation here, but she’s so ugly, no one would believe the rumors. Terribly skinny and homely. I’ve never seen suc
k freckles and unfortunate red hair.”
Fancy froze. Hurt at the woman’s words making her want to throw up. She didn’t know why, she’d said the same things herself. There was just something about hearing others say them, particularly another woman. She hated that King was the one she was talking too. Speeding up her steps, she fled to the kitchen, her cheeks flaming from the humiliation.
“She isn’t ugly, Mrs. Hewitt, and I don’t appreciate you saying so.”
King’s defense of her brought tears to Fancy’s eyes.
The woman mumbled something that Fancy couldn’t make out, but she heard the rest of King’s response well enough.
“I think it’s time you left, lady. You’ve worn out your welcome.”
Fancy fled out the back door, not wishing to face either one of them. She ran as far as the garden spot, then threw herself down on the grass, wondering why life was so unfair. Her heart ached that King had to defend her. It occurred to Fancy that he was making a habit out of it. She would have to thank him later when she got her courage up.
Meanwhile…King was furious. As he slammed the door behind his affronted neighbor, he thought good riddance. The stupid woman had no business talking about Fancy the way she did. Gladys Hewitt was a stout cow next to his slender, graceful girl.
It was a full five minutes later before King calmed down to realize what he’d been thinking and what it meant.
“Well, hell.” Slowly but surely, the woman was getting under his skin.
He scratched his chest, right over his heart, then walked over to cut himself a piece of cake. No use letting good sweets go to waste, no matter the sourness of the cook.
CHAPTER NINE
“Reno!” Ace yelled when he recognized the rider coming over the ridge. “It’s Reno! He’s back!”
Fancy looked up from the garden spot and wiped her brow. She was pushing the small hand plow through the hard dirt, readying the rows for the seeds Reno would bring. She saw King coming out on the front porch. Since Mrs. Hewitt’s visit the other day, she’d kept her distance from him, always needing to be somewhere else when he was near. She knew she couldn’t keep that behavior up forever, but for now distance seemed to be what she needed.
Seeing Reno, however, she pushed aside her discomfort. Her curiosity was a far stronger draw.
Everyone within hearing distance came to meet their friend. Mail call was always something the men looked forward too. By the time Fancy arrived to join the others, Reno was handing out letters. “We got a telegram from Dom.” He handed it to King, who promptly read it aloud.
“On my way south. Bought a prize bull. Bringing him home by train. Good stock.” King made a noise of approval.
“Well, good. I wonder what breed it’ll be?” Boone looked over King’s shoulder at the telegram.
“We’ll know soon enough,” King mused. “He should be here in a couple of days.”
“Here’s your seeds, Miss Fancy.” Reno handed her a bundle of small cotton sacks, each full of a different kind of green or root vegetable. “And your clothes.”
By the time he’d finished filling her arms, Fancy was too excited to stand still. “For me? All of this is for me?”
Reno laughed, and King pointed toward the house. “Go and inspect the goods, let us know if they fit.”
She yelled, “Thank you!” and took off running, anxious to see what the packages held.
Once she was on her way, Reno finished passing out the mail. Jericho received a note from Mattie and King grew tense, wondering if there was mention of Winfield and Caroline.
“I can’t read this very well,” Jericho grew embarrassed.
Clay put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you. At least you got some mail.” He never received word from his folks, his parents were just too caught up in their own self-righteousness to spare any time for their son. He’d once told King that his folks were ‘too heavenly minded to be of any earthly good’, and that was a fact.
Gentry received a package from England.
“What’s that, Count? Did your folks send you the crown jewels?”
“Not hardly.” Gentry put the wooden crate under his arm, apparently unwilling to divulge the contents.
Boone only came to welcome Reno and to help unload the supplies. Like Clay, he received no mail. His mother, poor soul, was no longer of this world. He had no other family, didn’t even know the identity of his father. “What’s that?” he noticed another telegram in Reno’s hand.
“Hold on.” He indicated for Boone to wait a moment. “Ace, get over here. I’ve got something for you.”
Ace grinned. He’d had faith. Seldom did the men return home empty handed. “What did you get me?”
“Hold out your hand.”
Ace did, and Reno filled it with licorice.
“Thanks!” He jammed a big piece in his mouth, then took off running to find a place in the shade of a tree to eat the rest.
“I didn’t want the boy to hear, he’s heard enough bad stuff in his life,” Reno began, before he unfolded the telegram. “I heard from Pinkerton about Cole, it’s not good news.”
“Oh, no, what did they find out?” King asked, his face a mask of concern.
“Cole is being held for treason against the Union at Fort Macon in North Carolina.”
“Treason? He was a union soldier. What act of treason do they think he committed?” Gentry asked, frowning.
“He was my brother, we were seen together, that was enough for a trumped-up charge. Hell, we never talked about the war, except how much we hated to be there. There was no strategizing, no talk of battle plans, we just reminisced about being at home together on the farm.”
“Let me work on this,” Gentry said thoughtfully. “I have a friend in a law firm in Philadelphia, let me contact him and see what he can do.”
Reno looked relieved. “I’m glad you’re on my side. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“My pleasure. The day may arrive when I call on you.” He didn’t elaborate, but as they unpacked the wagon, there was clearly something on the Englishman’s mind.
Inside the house, Fancy was ecstatic over her clothes. There were three dresses, two everyday muslin ones, a light blue and a soft green, and a dressier dark blue polka dotted one with a jacket and full Victorian double sleeves complete with white lace and satin ribbon. Fancy squealed with delight and hugged the clothes with all her might. She also found two shifts, a gown, two pairs of shoes and underwear. “I am so happy, I could faint!”
With complete rapture, she put on soft underwear and the shift. Fancy couldn’t stop looking down at herself. She felt like a new woman. For long minutes, she stared at the muslin dresses, trying to decide which to wear first. Finally, she decided on the soft green one, hoping that she’d halfway do the dress justice. Once she was ready, she dared not gaze in the looking-glass, for fear she wouldn’t look as beautiful as she felt.
When it was time to join the men, to put their meal on the table, she was almost too shy to emerge. Only her desire to thank whoever was responsible set her feet into motion.
In the kitchen, King and the others had put away the heavy supplies in the larder – flour, sugar, molasses, lard, coffee, and tea. There were other smaller purchases of spices and chocolate that they left on the counter for Fancy to put where she pleased.
Knowing she was busy, they served themselves, then sat waiting for her arrival.
As Fancy came down the hall, she didn’t hear anything, she had no idea they were waiting for her until she stepped into the room. When she saw their wide-eyed stares, she almost turned on her heels and ran back the way she’d come.
“Why, Miss Fancy, how pretty you look!” Jericho whispered in disbelief.
“Very nice,” Gentry added.
“Pretty as a picture, ma’am,” Boone chimed in.
The other men and Ace added their compliments, each sounding incredulous at her changed appearance.
Only King remained silent.
“You’re welcome for the words, but the clothes were all King’s doing.”
King was eating and didn’t comment. Fancy wondered at the pink tinge on his cheeks. Was he angry? She felt her own cheeks warm as she tried to imagine what he thought about her.
“Come on and sit down, Fancy. I’ll be glad to fix your plate.” Clay jumped up to wait on the one who always waited on them.
“Oh, I can get it.”
“No, Fancy, come sit down by me.” Ace encouraged. “You’re pretty.”
“It’s just me,” she protested, not knowing what else to say.
After Clay set a plate in front of her, she couldn’t eat much, she was just too nervous. The men kept complimenting her, and she both loved it and wished their kind words would stop, Fancy just didn’t know what to do with them. They were very hard to believe.
Somehow, she managed to get a few bites down, and once she was through, Reno handed her an apron to wear. “I forgot to give you this, it’ll protect your new clothes.”
“Thank you so much, Reno.” She pulled it over her head, then tied the tie behind her. “I wouldn’t want to ruin them first thing, for sure.”
“You’re welcome.” He tipped his hat and turned to King. “Where do you want the new bull?”
King thought a moment. “In the barn until he acclimates to things, don’t want him running off.”
“Sounds good, I’ll clean out a stall.”
“I’ll meet you down there in a few minutes, let me get a jacket.”
She heard Reno’s bootsteps walking away, but King lingered. This was her chance. Shaking with tension, she closed her eyes, and hoped she wasn’t making a mistake – but she couldn’t let the moment pass. “King?”