Fancy Pants (Only In Gooding Book #1) (31 page)

“I also applied to ladies’ academies.”

A rusty chuckle erupted from him. “Pardon me, but Fancy Pants Hathwell who chopped off her hair and climbed into men’s britches thinks she’s going to teach girls how to be proper ladies?”

She smoothed her skirt. “I have two other options if an academy doesn’t prove to be satisfactory.”

“Yeah?” he drawled in an entertained tone. “Like what?”

Finally, a wobbly smile tilted her lips. A wave of relief washed over him. He wasn’t good at handling weepy women. Anything was better than that.

“I still have the britches. I could hire on at another ranch.”

Tim jolted to his feet. “Over my dead body!”

“Since I couldn’t bear the responsibility for your demise, I’d have to go with my other possibility, then.” She paused a moment. When Tim crooked a brow in silent inquiry, she folded her hands in front of herself as if she were going to do a school recitation. “I understand from the advertisements that there is great demand in this part of the world for mail-order bri—”

“That does it!” He grabbed hold of her wrist. “You need to be protected from yourself, woman. I’ve never known another soul on the face of the earth who concocted half as many harebrained schemes as you. It’s a good thing I came to take you home—elsewise, you’d up and get yourself into more trouble than five reasonable men could untangle.” He tugged her toward the door.

Sydney planted her feet and yanked free of his hold. “Just who says men are reasonable to begin with? I’m not going anywhere with you, Tim Creighton!”

Tim cupped her shoulders and gently forced her to look up at him. “You’d break Fuller’s heart if you skulked away.”

She let out an inelegant snort.

“Once he meets you, he’s going to lose his heart—just like Velma did. Forsaken is where you belong. I’m sure of it.”

“Well, I’m not!”

“What kind of woman would dash off to uncertain dangers when she had folks back home who wanted her?”

“Did you fall off your horse and hit your head?” She slapped her hand over her mouth for all of two seconds before giving up and batting an errant curl off her forehead. “I declare, Mr. Creighton, I’m a perfect lady around anyone else. The minute you step in the room, I get in trouble. It’s all your fault, though. You say outrageous things, and I cannot help reacting.”

“Velma loves you. You know she does. As for Fuller—I’ve told you I’ll speak with him. People mellow with time. After thinking about it, I believe he’ll be delighted to have you around.”

“That still doesn’t change matters.”

Tim didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “Life would be downright boring without you there to stir things up. You keep me on my toes.”

She pushed past him and climbed back onto the bed. “You aren’t really here. I’m having a nightmare. That’s the only explanation for this.”

A sampler above the headboard caught his attention.
Let your
light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify
your Father
. The verse hit hard. He couldn’t make Sydney turn her heart toward the Lord, but he could reflect God’s love to her. Talk never got anything done. It was while working alongside “the kid” that Tim taught Syd the essentials. Sydney heard him pray and accompanied him to church—but she’d gotten that much all her life.
She needs an example. Lord, you’re going to have
to equip me
.

Tim tugged on the blanket and started to tuck her in. “Sleep awhile, sugar.”

Sydney’s eyes snapped open. Big Tim was leaning over her.

“Did you just call me—”

“Mommy, my shoe broke.”

Sydney flung off the coverlet at the sound of a child’s voice and gave his shoulder a healthy shove. “Get out of here!”

Mrs. Orion sighed. “Come show me, Heidi.”

Sydney yanked Tim back. “No, wait. You can’t go out there now.” She glanced at the wardrobe, then the bed. Neither would serve as a hiding place for the gigantic man. “Get behind the curtains.”

“No.”

“Mrs. Orion might well understand your being in here, but her little girl won’t.” Sydney shook her head. “I don’t, either.

You’re making a mess of everything!”

Tim leaned so close, his breath washed over her face. “Stop dithering. The best thing to do is act like nothing’s wrong.”

“Plenty is wrong—you don’t belong here!”

“Neither do you.”

Compared to Tim Creighton, mules and rocks were cooperative. As soon as Mrs. Orion sent her little girl back downstairs, Sydney decided she’d voice that comparison as she prodded him out of the room.

“Syd, I’ll bet the widow can’t afford new shoes for her daughter. Help me out here.”

Sydney could have resisted just about any ploy of his—but a child in need? “Don’t think I’ll forget about this. I’ll settle it with you later.” She stepped back from Tim. “I can’t return to Forsaken. Kippy’s gait is off. I think a shoe is loose.”

“Then we’ll see to it before we return to Forsaken.”

Sydney sidled past Tim and out into the hallway. Heidi held up a scuffed little shoe for her mother’s inspection. “Shoes.” Sydney let out a theatrical sigh. “The ones I just purchased simply don’t fit right.” She dipped her head and confided in a low whisper, “They’re rubbing my ankle raw.”

“Lady Sydney,” Tim appeared in the doorway, holding her ankle boots up for inspection. “Did I overhear you say these don’t fit?”

She let out a loud gasp. “You eavesdropped!”

Tim shrugged. “While Kippy’s getting shod, I’ll take you over to the mercantile and get you shoes, too.”

Sydney pressed a hand to her throat. “Sir, are you likening me to a horse?”

“Nope.” He grinned as he let the boots drop to the floor. “Horses are biddable. You’re not.”

Giggles spilled out of Heidi.

Tim tugged on one of her plaits. “I think you’d better come to the mercantile with us. Lady Sydney can’t beat me up if I have you along.”

Heidi’s eyes grew huge. “Would she beat you up?”

“I don’t know. She’s tiny, but she riles easily.” Tim turned to Mrs. Orion. He tilted his head to the side and studied the little shoe she held. “The buckle fell off? We can stop by Matteo’s on the way. He’s good at leather repairs.”

Sydney had to give Tim credit. His off-handed comments sounded so reasonable.
This is an opportunity. He asked me to help
him out—and I will. If there’s any chance I might stay on at Forsaken, I
need to prove to Tim that it’s possible for a man and a woman to work
together
. She stooped, picked up her boots, and went back into the bedchamber.

Tim’s calloused hand kept the door from shutting.

“What’re you doing?”

“Putting on my shoes.”

“But they hurt.”

“I can’t very well wander out of here and over to the mercantile without shoes on.”

“Heidi’s going to. Aren’t you, Half-pint?”

Heidi wrinkled her nose. “Do I getta take off my stockings, too?”

From the expression on Tim’s face, Sydney knew he hadn’t anticipated that minor glitch.

Tim hunkered down. “Nah. You’re going to get a piggyback ride.”

The little girl let out an excited squeal. “Mommy, I getta piggyback ride!”

“You sure do.” Tim tugged her over, and she scrambled onto his back.

Heidi scooted higher on his back. “What ’bout Lady Dizzy?”

Tim chortled.

“Lady
Sydney
, Heidi,” her mother corrected.

“Okay. Lady Sydney doesn’t have her shoes on. Are you gonna give her a piggyback ride, too?”

“No.” Sydney wasn’t about to let Tim answer the question. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

When Sydney joined them, Tim had taken Heidi outside and put her up in Kippy’s saddle. “We’ll drop Kippy off at the smithy. Right rear shoe’s loose. From there, Heidi’s going to shift from riding horseback to piggyback.”

After dropping off the horse, they stopped by Matteo’s. While Tim set Heidi down, Sydney caught Matteo’s attention and gave her head a quick shake. Then she smiled. “Heidi’s buckle came off her shoe. We’d be ever so appreciative if you could repair it. You can, can’t you?”

“Let’s see.” Matteo accepted the scuffed brown shoe. He gave Sydney an uncertain look, and she again shook her head.

“Hmmmm. I suppose I could try. But the size rivets this needs—they’re small. Very small.”

“Matteo doesn’t make women’s shoes.” Tim gestured toward the boots along the shelf.

“It’s a shame. Truly, it is.” Sydney thought of how her shoes pinched. “Would you ever consider . . .”

“No. Never.” Matteo scowled. “Men’s boots. Some for boys. Saddles.”

“There you have it.” Tim lifted Heidi and headed to the mercantile. “Sydney, while you find shoes for yourself, do you think you could stir up some for Heidi?”

Heidi sucked in a loud breath. She tugged on Sydney’s hand. When Sydney bent closer, Heidi whispered, “Mommy and me don’t have lotsa money.”

Tim gave Sydney a take-care-of-this look.

“Yes, well, I need to hire an advisor.” Sydney nodded as if to confirm her assertion. “I don’t know what young American girls like. What if I hire you as a consultant, and we’ll pay you by buying you new shoes?”

Freckled nose wrinkling, Heidi asked, “What am I s’posed to do?”

“I’ll explain it after we get our shoes.”

Fitting Heidi at the mercantile proved to be quite simple.

The first pair Orville Clark brought out fit her perfectly. She did a happy little jig, then hiked up her hem to admire them.

“They’re brand-new!”

The storekeeper murmured to Sydney, “Mrs. Smith always passes her daughter’s things down to Heidi.”

Sydney crooked her finger, and Heidi wiggled closer. “While I see about shoes for myself, you can start working with Big Tim. Show him what kind of material little girls like for dresses.”

Tim gave her a horrified look and Sydney smiled back sweetly.

Heidi curled her hand around his fingers. “C’mon. It’s easy.”

“Easy,” he echoed in a dubious tone. Heidi started to tow him toward the door. He halted. “Hold on a second. You’re going the wrong way.”

The little girl gave him a baffled look.

“She’s too small to tell where you’re going, Tim. Lift her up so she can see over the goods.”

“I know where everything is.” Heidi’s voice carried a hint of exasperation. “Mr. Clark doesn’t sell feed. Mr. Vaughn does.”

Tim bent forward and rested his hands on his knees. Even so, he towered over the little girl. “I—we aren’t leaving Lady Hathwell alone here. We’re staying put.” He straightened up. “You want bolt goods, don’t you, Sydney?”

Heidi’s jaw dropped.

She wouldn’t mind feed sacks at all, but Sydney didn’t want to argue. Besides, the way Mr. Clark kept hovering made her nervous. “Yes, Timothy. That’s precisely what we need.”

In a child’s loud whisper, Heidi asked, “Bolt goods or chicken feed?”

“Bolt goods.” Tim nodded once with great emphasis. “You have to understand. Lady Hathwell’s family and friends didn’t have chickens back home where she came from.”

“Oh.” Heidi seemed perfectly satisfied with Tim’s hasty explanation.

Mr. Clark wanted to help Sydney try on each of the three pair of shoes in her size, but she wasn’t about to have him buttoning and unbuttoning anything around her ankles. He kept jabbering, and Sydney wanted to overhear Heidi and Tim. “Mr. Clark, sir, I appreciate your assistance, but I must insist upon being left alone to . . . see to things.”

“Yeah.” Tim’s voice was so close, Sydney jumped. His eyes were steely slits, and his gaze bore through the owner of the mercantile. “While the lady tries on the shoes, you can fetch necessities.”

Mr. Clark’s jaw thrust forward. “You told me the other morning that Forsaken is fully stocked.”

Sydney took the buttonhook from his fingers. “I recall Velma mentioning she was running low on vanilla and paprika. Of course you didn’t expect Mr. Creighton to be aware of such minor items. Could you please fetch some?”

Though he looked crestfallen, Orville Clark slouched away. Tim waited until he was sure Sydney would be left alone, then went back toward the bolt goods. Sydney hastily tried on the boots as she listened to Heidi’s clear little voice. Tim’s answers were low rumbles. Sydney went over to join them. “How are we doing?”

“Find anything?” Tim countered.

Sydney let out a small sigh. “No.”

“Don’t be fussy about looks, Sydney. Your hems drag on the floor. Nobody’s going to see your shoes.”

He had a point. “Then I’ll go back to wearing Matteo’s—”

Tim’s brows shot up. “A proper English lady would wear cowboy boots?”

“In a heartbeat.” She turned to Heidi. “You’re my consultant. I’m interested in hearing what fabrics you advise.”

“I like flowers. And I like pink. And orange. Mama doesn’t like them, though. They show the dirt real fast.”

“Mr. Creighton is going to help us put the bolts up on the table. Let’s choose a few to spread out. They sometimes look different when you unroll a yard or so.”

“What is it you have in mind, Sydney?”

“I have a wonderful idea.” She tugged Heidi close and motioned to Tim. He leaned toward her. “I want to have a sewing bee. Ladies came and helped me make my dress, and Velma gave me the material. Wouldn’t it be fun if we had women come to Forsaken and make dresses for the little girls to wear for church this summer and for school next year?”