King's Fancy Read online

  “Agreed, but what if he doesn’t want the wife we choose?” Domino frowned. “What would he do, just send her back? How would that work?”

  “I’m sure it’s happened before,” Gentry said. “We’d buy her a ticket, give her a little money for her trouble and send her back where she came from, no worse for wear.”

  “That’s pretty cold, even for an Englishman, Nelson.” Boone took his hat off and slapped it against his knee. “I don’t guess we have anything to lose.”

  “Are you shittin’ me?” Domino wasn’t as convinced as the others. “You’ve seen the Captain mad. He’s going to take our heads off.”

  “Maybe not.” Boone smiled. “All depends on how good a job we do finding him a suitable wife. We’ll just have to be picky and find the right woman. We’ve got to get the others on board, then send someone into the city to find one of those catalogs or newspapers or whatever we need to be able to see the merchandise.”

  “Merchandise?” Jericho hooted. “I used to hate when Mattie made me go to the mercantile with her. This is one time I don’t think I’ll mind shopping.”

  “Well, excellent.” Gentry slapped Boone on the back. “Masterful plan, Cupid. All you need is a pair of wings and a bow with some arrows and you’d be in business.”

  “Yea, you’d be the first one I’d shoot in the ass, you dapper dandy.”

  “Don’t insult me, Roberts. At least I take a bath and change my clothes more often than once a month.”

  As the two friends exchanged insults, the others rolled their eyes and continued with their work, satisfied that they had a plan to put into motion.

  * * *

  Two days later…

  “Hand me the hammer, Ace, let’s get this gate fixed before darkness catches up with us.” Kingston Ramsay knelt in the tall grass, ran his fingers through the rich black soil, and studied a herd of his Longhorn cattle grazing in the distance.

  The young boy placed the tool in his benefactor’s hands. “I’m hungry, King. What are we eating tonight?”

  “Same thing we ate last night. Beans.”

  “I’m tired of beans, I want something else.”

  King hid a smile. “I’m not much of a cook. When Jericho gets back, he’ll make some flapjacks and we can try some of that honey you found. Now, hold up the end next to the post for me.”

  Ace hunkered down and did as he was told. “We need more women in Kingsland.”

  “What?” King Ramsay barked out a laugh. “I don’t think so. I came West to get away from women. They’re nothing but trouble, boy. They’ll break your heart and laugh as they stomp on the pieces.”

  “Amelia wasn’t any trouble.”

  His sad voice broke King’s heart. He’d tried to get the Calvary involved, but he’d been turned down flat. He knew he’d said Ace could only stay until other arrangements were made, but he was fast becoming attached to the boy. Sending him away to an orphanage or worse wasn’t something he could do. There was plenty of room on King’s Ransom, what was one more?

  “I know, I’m sorry, Ace. Amelia was an exception, I’m sure.” His mind turned to days long ago. “Once when I was a heck of a lot younger than you, I met a girl who was very nice. She played Robin Hood with me, we had a grand time.” King smiled, reminiscing. “Maid Marion was a feisty one. These two men jumped me, and she saved my hide.”

  “Good Gravy, was she a big girl?”

  “Nope, she was a tiny, scrawny little thing. All elbows and knees. Bright red hair and freckles all over her face.”

  “Ewww!” Ace made a face. “She sounds ugly.”

  “Some people would probably say so.” King smiled sadly. “I wasn’t worried about how a girl looked back then, I was more interested in her as a person.”

  “Most girls worry too much about the way they look.”

  King barked a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “But they can bake, and they smell good, that’s something.” Ace moved along with King, adjusting the wire as they progressed from post to post. “Boone tells me you used to like women.”

  Used to like women? King frowned. “Boone talks too much.” He stood, hung the hammer on his belt and gathered the reins of their horses. “I still like women on the whole, I just don’t want one of my own. Not now.” Maybe never.

  “There’s eight of us men on the ranch and no women. That’s some pretty piss-poor odds, I’d say.” Ace kicked at a stick, oblivious to the impact he was having on Kingston Ramsay.

  “How old are you, anyway, squirt?”

  “I’m thirteen and when I’m fifteen, I’m going to get married to someone who can cook.”

  “Oh, really?” King laughed. “I don’t think the woman would appreciate food being your sole reason for proposing.”

  Ace frowned. “Why, you said yourself love was just a fairytale. Good eats seem to be a sound reason to me.”

  King threw up his hands. “I tell you what, next time some of the men go to town, I’ll get them to tell Mr. Hansen at the mercantile to keep his eye out for a housekeeper for us.”

  “Can he put up a sign?” Ace was excited.

  “Put up a damn sign, yes.” King laughed, knowing there wasn’t a woman within a fifty-mile radius to read the sign.

  “I’m going to go tell Boone!” He jumped and ran, mounting his horse with a whoop of joy.

  King let him go with a wave. “Be back before supper, Ace, or I’ll eat your beans!”

  Ace waved at King as he disappeared in a cloud of dust.

  * * *

  And two days after that…

  “Move over. I want to see.” Jericho elbowed Boone as they all tried to crowd around the small table in the Kingdom Come Saloon to look at the Hearts and Hands section of the newspaper.

  “Ow, watch it, you hooligan.” Even though Boone fussed, he made room for his friend. “I wonder why some of these ads don’t come with a picture.”

  Domino chuckled as he drained his mug, then glanced around to see who might be listening. Seeing no one about but the near deaf bartender, he gave his opinion. “Some of them women probably resemble a mud fence.”

  “Probably.” Gentry agreed, rolling up his sleeves against the encroaching heat of the night. “Another thing to consider is that they pay for the privilege and including a photograph is probably much more expensive than just a written advertisement.”

  “Well, we can’t take a chance on looks, so let’s stick to the ones with pictures. We want King to be happy. This woman has to look as good as Miss Caroline or better.” Boone turned the page, not wanting to miss any possible candidates. “Oh, holy fuck, look at her.” He pointed at a picture at the top of the page.

  They all leaned in to stare at the gorgeous woman. “Law…she looks like an angel,” Jericho said in awe.

  “Hell, she looks like an actress I used to know in London.” Gentry whistled as he read her information. “Anita Mae, what do you say…”

  “Let’s see.” Domino began to read. “Genteel Southern lady seeks a generous, loving husband. I have many talents and a good singing voice. Please send me your information, I am anxious to begin my life and share it with someone kind and caring.” He dry-scrubbed his face. “If King doesn’t want her. I do. Land sakes, that’s one fine woman.”

  “Is she the one?” Boone asked. “Or should we look some more?”

  “I don’t think we’ll find a prettier one.” Gentry said, then held up one aristocratic finger. “However, I must remind you that beauty is only skin deep. This woman looks the part, but how will she adjust to ranch life? I can’t see her slaving over a hot stove to feed a herd of hungry men.”

  “Well…” Domino whispered, “most women can learn how to cook, but you can’t teach a homely woman how to be pretty, that’s for sure. Besides, if King falls for Anita, we can always hire another cook.”

  “He’s right.” Boone agreed. “This really isn’t about the food.”

  “It isn’t?” Jericho sounded disappointed. “Why can’t
it be about both?”

  “Well, either way, if we don’t answer this ad, someone else is going to, that’s for damn sure.” Gentry tapped the paper. “Since I’m the only truly literate one in the group, I’ll pen the letter.”

  They all gathered close as Gentry composed the letter to King’s prospective mail-order bride.

  Dear Madam

  My name is Kingston Ramsay and I am eager to make your acquaintance. I can offer you a good home and I have the means to take care of you. Life on the Texas frontier isn’t the easiest, but I promise to do everything in my power to make you glad you came. If I am hindered in any way, I will send someone reliable and trustworthy to meet you and escort you safely to King’s Ransom. Please know that I send my kind regards and look forward to meeting you face to face.

  Kingston Ramsay

  Kingsland, Texas

  “Now, how does that sound?” Gentry asked once he signed King’s name with a flourish.

  “I don’t know.” Boone mused. “Not very romantic. Don’t you think he should tell her how beautiful she is?”

  “I disagree,” Gentry countered. “I think both parties are aware other people’s eyes will read these letters and a certain decorum should be observed. Besides, neither party is under any mistaken impression that this is a love match.”

  “He’s right, this is a marriage of convenience, I think it’s called,” Domino inserted his two bits into the conversation.

  Jericho blew out a long breath as Gentry folded the letter and put it into an envelope to ready it for delivery to the newspaper. “I hope King sees it that way, or he might find it convenient to run us all out of town on a rail.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Three weeks later at King’s Ransom…

  “Hold on, tight! You’ve got him!” King stood on the rail fence, watching Boone as he introduced a wild mustang to the saddle.

  “This last round-up garnered us ten head of horses, one stallion and nine mares, Cap,” Jericho said as he joined him at the corral fence.

  “Good. We’re building our herd slowly. No use to outgrow the land we have cleared for grazing.” For a moment, he stepped up one rung higher and balanced by holding onto the top of a fence post. From this vantage point, he could see the rolling hills he called home. Taking a deep breath, he sighed. How had he ever been happy in the thick forests of Tennessee? Here in the Hill Country, you could see the horizon, not a dense mass of trees. “What kind of luck did the guys have finding a housekeeper? Ace is worrying me to death about it.”

  “Well…” Jericho cleared his throat, not hiding his unwillingness to answer King’s question very well.

  “Well’s a pretty deep subject for such a shallow mind.”

  Jericho didn’t look at King, he was afraid he’d break and tell him everything. “I think they’ve located somebody, although I don’t know the details.”

  “I hope he’s willing to hit the ground running. I don’t have time to mollycoddle anybody.” King stepped to the ground. “Winter’s coming and we’re going to have our hands full bringing the herd in and keeping them fat and happy.”

  “I hear you. No mollycoddling.” Jericho rolled his eyes. He was mighty afraid this thing was going to turn around and bite them all in the ass.

  “Keep an eye on Boone, I’m heading inside for the most unpleasant task of all.” King grimaced at Jericho. “Washing the pots and pans. That’s one chore I won’t mind turning over to our cook once he gets here.”

  Jericho waited until King was out of sight, then he hung his head down to rest on the top rail, with shoulders slumping, he let out a wry laugh. “Oh, Lord in heaven, protect us from the storm that’s coming.”

  * * *

  Meanwhile…in Kansas City, Kansas

  “Are you sure?” Fancy asked, so stunned by the agent’s news she could barely keep herself in the chair. “I never expected this, not in a million years.”

  Jubal Pierce hid a pleased smirk. Who would have thought he’d have such a delicious opportunity to needle the man he hated the most in the world? So, Kingston Ramsay was reduced to finding a bride in a catalog. He glanced down at the letter he’d received to forward to Miss Anita Mae Droddy, angelic blonde. Poor Anita would never see this letter. No, there was about to be a very unfortunate mix-up. Kingston Ramsay would be receiving a mail-order bride, but not the one he’d chosen. “Well, according to the communication I have in my hand from Mr. Ramsay, you’re exactly what he’s looking for.” He smiled generously. This was the first day he’d been happy since returning from that godforsaken war and taking over his father’s newspaper business. The Hearts and Hands column that he’d ridiculed was now giving him great satisfaction.

  “Did he happen to see the newspaper article about the fire last year?” She could think of no other reason why someone would single her out.

  Jubal shrugged, continuing to fill out the form. “Most likely.” He had no idea what the homely woman was talking about. “Would you like for me to send a telegram on your behalf accepting his proposal?”

  “Oh, yes, please!”

  “All right. Just follow these directions. He’s sent you stagecoach fare. Someone will meet you in Waco in three days’ time.”

  Waco. She’d always wanted to visit Waco. Standish Gillespie had a brother there and he talked about the Wild West town all the time.

  “Your new home is another hundred and twenty miles southwest of there,” Jubal told her. “He calls it King’s Ransom Ranch. Pack lightly, it’s a long journey.”

  King’s Ransom. She loved how that sounded. “Oh, I don’t have much to pack,” she assured him. “Thank you so much.”

  To Jubal’s horror, the ugly woman insisted on hugging him. “No need for all that. Be gone now.” He shooed her out.

  As he watched the poor creature leave, Jubal grinned like an idiot. His only regret was not seeing Kingston Ramsay’s face when his new bride arrived. “Yea, you black-hearted son of a bitch, you’ll regret the day you ever crossed me. If it weren’t for you, I’d be a rich man today.” He surveyed the dump of a newspaper office. “Not working in this dead-end hell hole.”

  As far as Fancy was concerned, she floated out of the newspaper office on cloud nine. After buying her freedom from Standish Gillespie with the gold Laurence O’Malley had given her, she’d left St. Louis and traveled to Kansas City, for no other reason than not wanting to be in the same town as her abuser. Life in the new place was no bed of roses, she still had to work like a dog for someone else. Tired of being on her own, she’d put an advertisement in a newspaper column devoted to finding husbands for mail-order brides.

  Yes, she knew she was no prize, but she’d prayed for a man who needed her, who could see beyond her faults to the pure heart that beat within her breast. If she could but win the love of a good man, Fancy had vowed to devote her life to making him happy. And now, she’d found him! “I can’t believe I’m getting married.” Just a few more days and her years of being afraid and alone were over.

  * * *

  On the road, three days later…

  “Push harder, Jericho. We’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there. We’ve got to get back before the cattle drive comes through. King’s gonna kill us if we’re late. We shouldn’t have stopped for supplies in Kingsland on the way, we should’ve done it on the way back.” Boone Roberts put his powerful shoulder to the wheel of the buckboard, trying to help big Jericho free the heavily laden wagon from the miry mud of Bull Creek.

  “We didn’t want the new shipment to be picked over. Besides, King’s gonna kill us anyway,” Jericho quipped as he sat on his steed in front of the team of tired horses, guiding them as they struggled to obey the men asking them to do the impossible. “I’m in no rush to attend my own funeral.”

  “I fear we are going about this the wrong way, gentleman.” Gentry observed from the bank as he watched his comrades struggle. He couldn’t help but smile, thinking how he’d lay down his life for any one of these men. After fi
ghting shoulder to shoulder with them in the war, this minor inconvenience was child’s play.

  “What did you say, Earl?” Boone stood up to rest, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “Words of wisdom, commoner,” Gentry jested with aplomb, the grin still on his face. “I suggest you unload the wagon, lessen the load, and then proceed to gently lead the steeds from the stream.”

  “Well, why didn’t you suggest that twenty minutes ago?” Jericho straightened up and threw a fifty-pound sack of flour over his shoulders. “Well, help me, you sidewinders!”

  Gentry dismounted and tied his steed to a small cedar, wading back into the creek to help his friends. Once the wagon was unloaded, the men were able to coax it from the mud and onto dry land.

  “Well, fuck-it-all, I’m glad that’s over with,” Clay Bennett, slapped his black hat against his leg, knocking off the dirt.

  “Language, Padre, you’re tarnishing your pious image,” Gentry chastised his companion good-naturedly. He knew Bennett wasn’t a normal man of the cloth. He was tougher, could fight harder, and lived by his own set of commandments - not all of them set in stone. “Do you think we’re going to beat the bride to Waco?”

  Boone cursed a blue streak. “Hell, damn, fuck, no. Between our oxen getting stuck in the ditch,” he nodded toward the river, “and our run-in with that band of Indians, we’re running a good day behind. Let’s just hope she waits on us and doesn’t hire someone to take her to the ranch. I’d like to be there to break this to him gently. No matter how pretty this woman is, King didn’t ask for a mail-order bride and one showing up on his doorstep is going to take him by surprise, and we all know how Kingston Ramsay reacts to surprises.”