Disclaimer: I wish I owned it all. Please don't sue me or anything, I need my money…
Summary: Ginny Weasley, hoping to keep her ranch going, encounters a man who says he's Harry Potter, a family friend. The man says he is helping Ginny in her time of need is thrown into question by his suspicious actions. Soon, another man is identified as Harry Potter. Who can she trust when one ends up dead?
A/N: I hope ya'll like it. Yet again, the magical world is not real. This story is back in the 1880's and they are in America. So it's kinda old timey stuff. Horse and wagon, no cursing and stuff. Oh, and Ginny's only relative is her brother, Bill. Please review with a yay or nay!
Chapter 1
"Ginny, Ginny!" Kate called in a tone that usual came with bad news.
Ginny shut the door to the horse stall. What's wrong this time? she thought.
"God help us, Ginny, it's the storage barn!" Kate heaved open the huge barn door. "It's on fire!"
With a "Wuff!" Ginny's startled dog, Bug, jumped from his nap in the soft hay.
Ginny couldn't budge. For what seemed like a lifetime, she tried to comprehend what she just heard. No, she wanted to scream, this isn't true. Not the storage barn! Not all her hay and corn!.
But the crackling flames danced behind Kate's plump frame were real. The sound of Ella's nervous neighing and pawing on the ground were real. The frightened look in Kate's eyes were real.
"Ginny, I said the storage barn's on fire!" Kate repeated.
Finally Ginny's thoughts came together. A cold shill flew up her spine and a wave of nausea washed over her. "The corn and hay!" she yelled as she flew past Kate.
"Get the shovel and I'll get as many buckets of water as I can!"
Ginny, her heart racing, stumbled toward the shovel, grabbed its wooden handle and raced toward the glowing barn. The flames licked the building's roof as the smoke rose into the sky. There was no use even hoping they could stop the fire. But if she hurried, maybe she could build a trench to keep the fire from spreading.
Throwing her waist length red braid over her shoulder, she attacked the dirt with her worn shovel. With every shovelful of dirt she overturned, with every shake of her knees, Ginny, for the first time in her life, wanted to curse. She was having bad luck lately, and it seemed everything she touched turned into a full blown disaster.
"The hay and corn are gone," she moaned as sweat beaded down her forehead.
Hopefully she and Kate could stop the fire from spreading to the barn or Ginny's home, that is, if the bad luck swarming at her didn't decide to that the other buildings needed to go down as well.
What if the fire did spread? Ella… how could Ginny have forgotten her? She threw her shovel to the ground and raced back to the barn.
A chestnut mare, ears pricked, black eyes rolling in fear, pranced nervously within her stall.
"It's ok Ella. You're fine girl." Ginny soothed in shaking voice. She opened the stall door, grasped the horse's leather halter, and led her across the barn to the side door.
Scotty had been Ginny's last gift from her brother before he died of consumption in July. "There's something for you out in the barn," Bill had said weakly from his bed. Ginny, her curiosity peaked, never expected a big, beautiful horse. To Ginny, Ella was the last link to Bill.
"It's ok," Ginny whispered again, knowing that the gentle mare sensed the danger. Within seconds, Ginny secured Ella, the other horses, and her milk cow in the nearby pasture, then raced back to the fire.
"Give me that shovel," s deep voice demanded from behind her.
Gasping, Ginny turned to stare into the clear blue eyes of a man she had never seen. His slim face seemed drawn with concern and fear. Her mind, numb with terror, Ginny did nothing, said nothing.
Then his big hand took the shovel from her grasp. "Go help with the water. Don't worry about trying to stop the fire, just soak the ground around it the best you can."
Ginny, always cautious, would normally have been reluctant to accept a total stranger. But right now she didn't care who he was, or where he came from. She just raced to do his orders. He was help; perhaps her luck was turning for good.
After thirty minutes of hauling water, Ginny watched as the flames devoured her barn.
The stranger strode from the back of the barn, the faint light illuminating the black smudges of his face; a face so angular it reminded Ginny of a collection of triangles and squares.
"I got a ditch dug around it and the ground is soaked so the fire won't spread." he said.
Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I'm awfully sorry Ma'am." he said.
I've been having a bad luck streak lately," Ginny answered as she looked into the strangers serious eyes, Who was he anyways?
"I'm afraid it's more than just a bad luck streak Miss Ginny," he said.
Blinking, she fleetingly wondered how he knew her name. "What? If it wasn't an accident, then that means-"
"I found a broken lantern by the back door. Looks suspicious to me."
"Oh, no," Kate breathed from close behind, "It's enough what we've been through, without somebody settin' fire to the barn.
Ginny, her body growing weary, threw her red braid over her shoulder. Was the fire related to what happened two weeks ago? she thought, nervously rubbing the bridge of her freckled nose. Ginny scanned the rolling piney hills and sprawling green pastures of her three-hundred-acre ranch. Perhaps someone was trying to hurt her by destroying her ranch.
"I'll tell you one thing. It's a miracle this here stranger showed up. What's your name mister?" Kate asked, her hands propped on her massive hips.
"Name's Happy Potter," he said, tilting his straw hat to reveal a glimpse of brown hair.
Ginny's neck stiffened, her mind spinning at his name. "You came after all, did you? I was beginning to think you weren't coming."
"Now Ginny, don't you think you're being rude to Mr. Potter," Kate said. "I think it's good he's come. I told you already. You need someone to help-"
"Well I don't need him!" Ginny said as she glared into the man's slim face.
"I assume my guess is right, then. You're Ginny Weasley? I'm pleased to meet you, too." he said dryly.
"I'll get y'all a cool glass of water," Kate said over her shoulder. "I tell ya what, yes I will. I just don't know if I'll ever make a lady out of you. She's only nineteen years old and she's as plain spoken as an old man.." Kate's voice mixed with the swishing of her green skirt as she neared the well.
"You might as well get on your horse and go back because we don't need ya here.
"But my pa promised your brother. I can't just haul off and leave.."
"Your pa promised my brother something he shouldn't have. It isn't right and I'm not going to have some… some meddler come in here and marry me just because my brother didn't think I could run this ranch alone. I'd eat a skunk first!"
Oh, Bill, why did you leave me? Didn't you trust me enough to know I could run the ranch alone? she wanted to wail.
"Well now, I haven't exactly proposed yet." he said.
"Well you can just keep your proposal, Mister, 'cause I'm getting married in two months anyway."
"That's fine with me, I aim to marry next spring, too."
"Well, why… how…?" Ginny's speech stuttered into nothing as pounding horses' hooves echoed from the tree-lined dirt road.
Ginny and Harry turned to see Braeden Campbell, Ginny's neighbor and future husband, ride toward them in a cloud of dust. Many women in their tiny town thought Braeden was a handsome catch with his straw colored hair, blue eyes, and long proud nose. For Ginny, though, Braeden was simply a steadfast anchor on whom she could always rely.
As he tied his puffing palomino, Braeden's dark gaze scanned the smoldering barn. "I saw the fire's glow," he said, his curious gaze resting on Harry.
"It's too late," Ginny said, wearily rubbing her damp brow.
Braeden, Ginny's lifelong friend, shoved his black hat from his forehead and shook his head.
Ginny cleared her throat and laid a possessive hand on Braeden's muscular forearm. "This is my intended, Mr. Braeden Campbell. Braeden, this is Mr. Harry Potter. Mr. Potter is… is…"
"A family friend who's come to help Ginny," Harry said, then extended his hand to Samuel.
Irritation welled up in Ginny's chest at his familiar use of her given name.
Braeden, his eyes glinting with suspicion, slowly shook Harry's hand.
"Mr. Potter thinks someone set the fire," she said, trying to hide irritation.
"On your way here, you didn't happen to see anyone on the road, did you?" Harry drawled as he looked up at Braeden, who nearly dwarfed him.
"Nah, I didn't. Not even any fresh tracks." Braeden took off his hat and, in a frustrated gesture, ran a calloused hand over his hair. Focusing on Ginny, he ignored Harry. "Do you think it was the same person-"
"I don't know," Ginny sighed.
"What?" Harry asked, almost too quickly.
"I lost thirty head of cattle two weeks ago to rustlers."
"That stinking' thief took you pear crop, too. And now this!" Braeden said. "I'll be glad when-" he stopped abruptly and cast a glance toward Harry. "There's no need for you to stay in these parts Mr. Potter, Ginny and I are marrying in October," he said, encircling her shoulders with his arm.
Harry's smile, slow and measured, resembled a pointed-faced possum. "Listen, I didn't come here to cause a ruckus. It's plain and simple the reason why I'm here. "Fore her brother died, he wrote my pa and asked that I come and help Ginny run the ranch. I promised I'd stay till spring. I got a wedding own my own then."
Ginny relaxed a fraction. At least Harry had not told Braeden about the whole contents of that wretched letter.
Some of the mistrust left Braeden's eyes. "That's mighty good of you Mr. Potter. But Ginny won't be needing you. I guess you can go home and tell you pa-"
"Well if that's the way it is," he said, looking around as if he were memorizing every inch of the ranch, "I guess I should head back. It's been such a long ride, though, it would be mighty nice of you to let me stay a night or two in your barn to get rested up."
"Well if you don't mind sharing with my mare, Mr. Potter, you're welcome to stay in the barn."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Braeden's hand tightened disapprovingly on her upper arm and Ginny pulled away. They were not married yet and she did what she thought was best.
"Thanks," Harry said.