Hi, thanks so much to the one person who reviewed! I hope you're still enjoying this story! I have the next five days off of work, so I'll be working at updating a lot of the stories that I have unfinished on here! Anyways, with this one it should be a little easier since I have eighteen original chapters to work with as a skeleton for the new chapters!
Django watched the white couple on the cart while they thought he wasn't looking. He didn't understand it. One minute he was on a miserable chain gang, shackles cutting into his ankle, which hurt something awful, and the next minute these white people come over, kill Ace Speck- which Django had to admit he had been thinking about doing for the entire trek through the desert- and set him and the others free.
He didn't often try to understand why white people did what they did, but this couple, they were a mystery to him, a mystery that was quietly sitting in their cart, the only sounds in the night were the clip clopping of the horse's hooves and the bouncing of the tooth on the spring on top of the white folks cart. He looked over at them occasionally, his horse seemed content to walk alongside Fritz who seemed content to walk the path that the driver of the cart, the white man, had pointed him in.
The woman seemed content to lay her head against her husband's arm as they moved through the night almost silently, and the man seemed content to just let the horse move through the night, not speaking, just holding the reins with one hand, the other arm wrapped around his wife who Django had assumed was sleeping until her voice cut through the night with a sharp "Don't."
Django looked over at them again, seeing the man smirking like a chastised schoolboy while the woman, Sara was sitting up and sighing as she tucked the blanket around her lap and over her stomach a little more tightly. The two on the cart shared a meaningful look and then she nodded to Django who looked away quickly, feeling like he had been caught seeing something he shouldn't have.
"So Django," Dr. Schultz said with a smile as he looked at his new traveling companion. "What do you intend to name him?"
"Who?" Django asked, not sure who the man could be talking about.
"Your horse?"
"What horse?"
"The horse you're riding."
"This ain't my horse." Django said quickly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. This horse belonged to the man, Dr. Schultz. He had bought him and the horse. He belonged to the man as much as the horse did.
"Yes it is." Dr. Schultz said just as quickly making Sara roll her eyes. She had heard King go on like that for ages. The man loved to argue.
"No it ain't. It's your horse. I'm just ridin' it." Django retorted, making Sara look over at the man with a smile. He was arguing with King, that was a good sign, if he felt comfortable enough to argue with them freely he was starting to think less like a slave.
"Well technically yes- wait a minute- technically not." King said suddenly. "If it's my horse I can give it to you, and as of now, I'm doing such. Django, you're now the proud owner of a horse."
"Congratulations." Sara said to Django who looked less than thrilled.
"I can't feed no horse... I can't put no horse up in no stable." Django said quickly, his mind reeling with the idea of owning a horse. That white man definitely didn't understand that he couldn't just own a horse, he couldn't own anything.
"Don't worry about all that!" King snapped, obviously exasperated, making Sara put her hand on his knee. It was silent for a moment while King composed himself. Sara was grinning softly, glad it was dark, it had been a long time since she'd seen anyone get King to snap like that. "So," he said when he had composed himself. "Now that that's settled... What do you intend to name it? Half the fun of having a horse is choosing his name. For instance my steed is named Fritz; He's stubborn, ornery, and prone to bad disposition-"
"Much like his master." Sara threw in, making King shoot her an unamused look. She just grinned and moved back into his side; he moved his arm back around her, navigating Fritz's reins with one hand and turned back to Django.
"I could not do without Fritz," he looked down at Sara. "Much like my wife," he smiled before looking back at Django, and then looking at the town Fritz was leading them to. "Anyway, the name of one's steed isn't something one does lightly. So once you've thought about it for awhile-"
"Tony." Django interrupted.
"Tony what?" King asked, obviously thrown off by the sudden announcement of the name seemingly from nowhere.
"I dunno, Tony the horse?" Django asked with a shrug as he looked down at the horse.
"Oh, Oh, you mean, you wish to name your horse Tony." King said in realization.
"Yeah. That's what you jus' asked me right?" Django asked.
"When you're right, you're right, indeed I did." King agreed. "Why Tony?"
"I gotta tell ya? You didn't tell me I gotta tell ya." Django sighed.
"This is it." Sara told King after consulting a map, the man nodded and allowed Fritz to keep leading the three to the town.
"This is what?" Django asked, looking at the couple.
"This is Daughtry," King answered as his wife straightened up and started to make herself look more presentable as they passed a sign welcoming them to Daughtry, Texas. "But as I was saying, I'm naturally curious, of course, but there is no real reason you Must tell me," King continued. "In fact an air of mystery does add a dash of panache to any steed. And I do believe Tony wears it well. Good job Django, well done." he smiled before realizing almost everyone in town was staring at them. "What's everybody staring at?" King leaned towards Django to ask the question.
"They ain't never seen no slave on no horse b'fore." he replied instantly.
"Huh." King simply replied. His wife was muttering to herself, listing off things on her fingers as they pulled up to a stop. Django watched while the two spoke, catching bits of what they were saying.
"-The General store across the way." she told him and he reached into his jacket pocket and returned with a roll of bills. She reached for it and he held it out of her reach with a teasing smile. She grinned and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, reaching out to hold the bills while they kissed and he made a move to hold her there, but she was able to wrap her fingers around the bills. As soon as she did, she pulled back, her eyes twinkling as she smiled.
"We won't be long." Schultz called after his wife who was now making her way to the general store across the way like Django assumed she had been telling him.
"I've heard that before." she replied over her shoulder as she walked across the dirt chuckled in response before looking at Django.
"So tell me Django, as you know, I'm naturally curious, and I'm wondering, what other archaic rituals are you people forbidden to take part in?" All Django could do was stare, he wondered for a moment if he'd ever get used to the way this white man spoke.
"What?" he asked simply.
"Like, for instance, what if we were to walk into the saloon here, sit down at a table, order a drink, and drink it. Would the authorities frown on that?"
"Hell yeah they gon' frown." Django confirmed, not sure if he liked how the white man's smile grew at the answer.
"And what part would they find the most offensive?"
"All of it! I can't be walkin' in no saloon, I can't be sittin' down in no chair at no table, I can't be drinkin' no drink and I definitely can't be sharin' no drink with no white man in public." Django spelled out, wondering why on earth this man's wife had run off. She seemed like she understood how things were better than her husband.
"So, if you and I were to do these things, would that be considered enough of an infraction for the saloon keeper to go and get the sheriff?" King asked. Fancy words aside, Django knew he was asking if they did that, would they get the sheriff on them.
"You bet yo' sweet ass they gon' get the sheriff." the white man's smile grew again, making Django wonder just what kind of white man he was before Schultz gestured to the door.
"In that case Django, after you."
After Schultz shot the sheriff in the middle of the street Django stood there wondering what the missing Mrs. Schultz was going to think about all this. He wondered if these people were crazy and he wondered if he was next.
Were they toying with him, giving him a coat and shoes and making him ride a horse through town, only to kill the sheriff in town and maybe blame it on him? Other white people'd back them up. Ain't no judge gonn' believe no slave over no white doctor.
Schultz claimed to be a bounty hunter, but Django was wary of that.
Meanwhile as the townspeople freaked out outside, and the barkeeper had run off to get the Marshall; in the general store the shopkeeper kept looking from the lone customer in the store, to the outside, wondering what on earth was happening. "Sounds like quite the commotion out there." the shop owner tried to hint to the red haired woman who was taking her time choosing between patterns.
"Yes it does." she replied, obviously uninterested in the hint the shopkeeper was trying to drop.
He looked to the door and then to the woman again, desperate to leave the store, but as she was a stranger, he didn't feel comfortable leaving her alone, "Heard some folk shot the sheriff." he prompted, sure that that would get her interest, and he'd be able to go outside and see the commotion.
"It doesn't surprise me." she replied, making him look at her with shock. "Tell me, which do you think? Blue, or gray?" She held up the two colors. He stood there, gaping at her for a moment before she nodded, putting the two samples down. "You're right, I simply must go to the clothing store for such decisions. Are you sure that the price on the soap is secure?"
"Yes ma'am." he replied "If'n ya ain't in the place to pay such, Granny Johnson makes her own soap and sells it. Ain't much for a jar, though folk ain't too keen on the slimy feel. That's because'a the lard you see." he explained and she shrugged.
"Here is the rest of my list though. I trust you can fill my order?" she asked, looking at him expectantly.
"Of course ma'am," he replied as she looked out the window as the excitement seemed to die down. She walked across the shop, to the door and opened it in time to hear her husband say:
"In other words, Marshal, you owe me two hundred dollars." She couldn't help cracking a smile before she turned around to face the stunned shopkeeper.
"I think I'll take the soap after all." she told him who was staring at her blankly.
When King and Django walked over to the general store she was smelling the perfumed soap selections, trying to decide between lavender and lemon. "Smell this." she shoved the first bar under her husband's nose. He inhaled and then made a face of satisfaction. "Okay, now this one." She replaced it with the other option from the stack of different soaps on the counter that boasted some of the best scents in soaps in three states.
"I like the first one." he told her, choosing the lemongrass scent.
"We'll take three of those." she told the shop owner.
"Ah, no, no, we'll take two of those; the lady is going to take the Indian Flowers." King told the shopkeeper after picking up and smelling one of the wrapped soaps on the counter. "Tell me, how do they manage to get this strong of a scent in the soap?"
"Old Injun woman outside'a town makes 'em. Ain't no one knows how she does it, but they all keep buyin' 'em." he shrugged.
"And a bar of unscented." Sara told the shopkeeper, and then looked at her husband. "Are we staying long?"
"We may as well find a room for the night; the Marshall is wiring the judge to collaborate everything. They are just starting to serve breakfast across the street, you should go get some. I'm also thinking about buying a bath for myself and one for young Django while we're in town. Shopkeeper, where would you recommend a good place for a bath?"
"Barber's shop right next door." the shopkeeper told them. "But you can't bring your slave in there."
"Oh, no no, it's not like that." King smiled good naturedly. "Django here is a free man." he explained, completely missing the shopkeeper dropping all of the bars of soap, before he turned to the door. "Right next door you say?" King asked. "Come Django." Sara watched the two leave before turning to the shopkeeper.
"I'd also like this shirt, gloves, and socks." she told him and he nodded dumbly before looking at her.
"Is that everything?" he asked.
"It is," she confirmed. "Please have it wrapped up and ready to go, I'm going to have breakfast across the street." she informed him before paying for her order.
She walked across the street to the saloon where the innkeeper was starting to get things going. The tables were full, but when the men noticed a very pregnant woman walk in, two of them who had been sitting at one table stood and moved to another table with people they knew.
"Ma'am." one of them tipped his hat as she moved to the table. He held the chair out for her and pushed it in for her as she sat down making her smile at him gratefully. She was about halfway through her breakfast before King walked into the saloon looking very clean, and fresh, and wearing a smile as he joined her, picking at the eggs on her plate with his fingers.
"Where's Django?" she asked.
"He's putting on the shirt and socks you bought for him," he replied. "That was very good thinking of you."
"You don't think I'm going to forget something do you?" she smiled at him. It was an inside joke, and he smiled as he leaned over and kissed her temple.
"You?" he asked. "Never."
"Good," she said as she handed him her fork and he finished off the rest of the food from her plate, it was hard for her to finish a full plate of food at times and King was just happy that she was keeping things down, unlike in the beginning of her pregnancy when she seemed to throw up after every meal.
"I've made accommodations for us here at the inn," he told her as he scraped up the last bit of food and took his final bite. "We'll stay here until tomorrow, and then we are to take our money and leave town."
"Someday," she said as she leaned forward and used her napkin to wipe the crumbs from his beard. "We'll stay in one place for longer than one day," she commented and he smiled softly.
"I look forward to it," he said softly. "Is there anything else we need to do while we're in town?" he asked as he wrapped his hand around hers and she sighed as she thought about it before shrugging.
"I'd like a bath," she commented and he nodded.
"Then let's get you settled upstairs and we'll get you a bath," he agreed as he stood up and went to talk to the innkeeper to get the room number and to arrange a bath for his very pregnant wife. After ordering another plate of food said wife walked out to the cart with the plate and a set of silverware.
"Feeling better?" she asked Django who looked at her and then shrugged.
"I dunno if I'd say that," he told her and she smiled as she handed the plate and silverware to him.
"I can't imagine all of this is easy to understand," she agreed as the shopkeeper came over with their packages. Django immediately put the plate onto the seat of the cart and went to accept the wrapped packages but Sara put her hand on his elbow.
"Eat your breakfast Django," she encouraged him. "I've got this."
He watched as she talked with the shopkeeper and took her packages from him, loading them into the back of the cart before the shopkeeper walked back to his shop and Sara looked back at Django.
"What y'all's deal is?" he asked and she smiled at the honest question.
"What did King tell you?"
"He said he a bounty hunter, he kill folks and they pay him for it," he repeated and she nodded.
"That's true," she confirmed. "We're working on a bounty for the Brittle Brothers right now,"
"That's why you all bought me," he added and she nodded again.
"Yes, but surely you know, you are not a slave to us," she told him and he looked her in the eye.
"Why I would know that?" he asked and she nodded, looking chagrined.
"You're right," she agreed. "But I'd hope my husband would have told you that."
"He did," he agreed. "But he don't seem to understand Americans the way you do," Django explained as he picked up his plate and fork again and took another bite of his food.
"Admittedly he hasn't spent as much time around them as I have," she agreed. "But Django, from the moment he wrote out that bill of sale, he listed your name as Django Freeman, we are not your owners. We want a business partnership," He seemed to think about that as he chewed his food before he nodded finally.
"I think I can work with y'all," he agreed and Sara smiled.
"Good," she said before King stepped out of the Inn and looked at the two of them accusingly.
"Oh I see, I go to make sure you have somewhere to sleep for the night and you run off to someone younger than me," he said to Sara who laughed as she looked at him.
"Yes, that's exactly what happened," she said as she walked over to him and laid her hands on his arms, kissing his cheek. "Did you arrange for a bath for me?"
"Of course," he said as he wrapped his arms around her middle and then looked beyond her to Django who was eating his breakfast.
"Django, I'm going to help get my wife settled, perhaps after breakfast you'd be kind enough to help me get the horses to the stables," he suggested and Django nodded as he watched the two walk into the Inn together.
"White folks is weird," he mumbled to himself as they walked away and then turned his attention back to his breakfast.
Okay! I hope you're enjoying the relationship between King and Sara as well as the blossoming friendship between Sara and Django! Because it is my intention that those two are best friends lol. But really, I hope you like the story, please feel free to drop a review, they do help me focus on which stories are getting interest and help me prioritize which stories get updated quicker, especially since I have fourteen active stories at the moment. (I'm a mess)