BUTCH CARSON AND THE SUNDANCE HOUSEKEEPER
A/N: So, here is the next update as promised. I had a feeling before that, even with the shootout, the story just wasn't Western enough. That being said, I decided to give you guys a glimpse of Chuck Wagon Patmore, and some good ol' fashioned story-telling around the campfire. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)
Chapter 7: Stories Around The Campfire
Daisy stirred the stew vigorously, threw in some spices, and set it on the back of the wagon. She heard laughter coming from not far away. Ivy's laughter. Just my luck, Daisy thought. She gets to sit around and chat with the ranch hands while Mrs. Patmore makes me do all the hard work. Daisy had worked with Mrs. Patmore as the old woman's assistant cook since she was very young. At least, that was her official title. The two were old friends, as well.
Just recently, though, Chuck Wagon Patmore had gained a new member. Ivy was a young and inexperienced cook whom they had picked up in a town on their regular route. She was in a bad spot, working in a kitchen for a failing saloon, and Mrs. Patmore befriended her and brought her to the Wagon to put her to work.
Now, Ivy was supposed to be helping Daisy out, but instead she was leaning on the wagon, chatting with some ranch hands from the Downton Ranch. Daisy was about to go over and yell at Ivy for being so irresponsible, but she stopped short when she saw a certain redheaded ranch hand approaching Ivy.
"There you are!" Alfred said. "Ol' Beryl will work you two to death if she doesn't give you a break once in a while."
"That's Mrs. Patmore to you!" Ivy admonished. She was still impressionable and wanted to do everything she could to please her boss.
Alfred came around the wagon often. He had been working as a ranch hand in order to pay off his father's debt to Lord Grantham, but his heart was never in the work. He had always wanted to be a cook, and food was his passion, so he ended up hanging around Chuck Wagon Patmore a lot. He picked up what skills he could from Mrs. Patmore herself, and, more often, from Daisy and Ivy. Daisy had come to like him quite a lot.
Today, Alfred was at the wagon, along with some other ranch hands from Downton, including James and Thomas. They had all come to say hello to the girls...and hopefully get a free taste of Mrs. Patmore's famous jerky.
"Alright, scram! The lot of you! I don't waste my time cooking for beggars like you! My talents are put to better use for those with more refined taste! Shoo! Don't hang around my wagon!" Mrs. Patmore came running towards the group of young men, shooing them away while wiping her hands on her stained apron.
"Aw, c'mon, please, Mrs. Patmore?" Daisy pleaded. "We've been working hard all day, all of us! Couldn't we have a good ol' campfire? Please?"
"That's a great idea! You could tell us all your old stories!" Ivy put in.
Mrs. Patmore cracked a small smile. Her hard resolve disintegrated, and suddenly she was just a sweet old cook who loved to tell stories.
"Oh, all right. I suppose we could have a nice meal for us working-class folk. Alfred, get some firewood from the back and give us a fire!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Alfred said excitedly, and headed around the back of the wagon. Daisy followed to help him. Ivy, Thomas, and James set up the small campfire ring around their makeshift fire pit made from nearby stones they had collected.
oOo
An hour later, Mrs. Patmore, the girls, and the ranch hands were lying under the stars, their bellies full of mutton stew and savory jerky. Everyone was almost content - almost.
"Mrs. Patmore, that was a wonderful meal, but I believe you promised us a story!" James mentioned.
"Indeed I did, Jimmy! Alright, I suppose I could tell one story. What would you young 'uns want to hear about on this fine evening?" The cook said softly.
Ivy knew what she wanted to hear.
"Tell us about Clara Burns!"
All the young men and women nodded their heads in agreement.
"Yea, tell us about Buckin' Burns!" Thomas nodded in excitement. Mrs. Patmore smiled. This story was one of her favorites.
The campfire had died down quite a bit now, and the last embers made the cook's face glow as she began to tell the story of Buckin' Clara Burns.
"Young Clara was just an ordinary girl. She grew up in Grayll, just a ways down the road from here. As soon as Clara was old enough to hold a rifle, her daddy had her out shooting and hunting from dawn til dusk! Then, one sad day, her poor ol' daddy passed away. This left Clara's mother in an awful bad spot, trying to care for Clara and her sister. Food was scarce without someone who could hunt. But this was no problem for the Burns women! Every morning, Clara would pick up her daddy's ol' huntin' rifle, and she would go out into the woods to hunt. She came back with more fresh meat than her family could possibly eat.
"Now, folks in the town were starting to recognize Clara as one of the surest shots in the county. One day, a right old terror of a man came along to Grayll. He was called Jumpin' Joey, and he challenged the townspeople. 'Gimme your best shot in the county, and I'll shoot 'is hat off!'
"The people all laughed. Somebody ran to go get Clara. When Clara was pushed in front of Joey, he laughed. He laughed and laughed. 'This little gal is the best shot you got? Alright then, sweetheart, step right up! What d'ya wanna do?' He laughed again.
"But little Clara stood tall and said, 'Let's shoot cards, mister!'
"So five playing cards were placed in nooks along a stretch of wooding fencing. They were facing the people, but to Joey, they were nothing more than a sliver. He raised his gun, took aim, and fired of a couple rounds. The people gasped. He had shot one card right in half, and shot the top off of two others, leaving only two cards untouched. He threw a menacing smile at Clara. 'Let's see ya do better'n that, sweetheart!' He winked and took a seat on a nearby fencepost.
"Clara, not intimidated whatsoever by the man, picked up her gun. She told the boys to set up two sets of cards, five on the fence in front of her, and five on the fence behind her. Joey stood up, perplexed. Before he could say anything, Clara fired off a series of shots at the cards in front of her, splitting every last one clean in half. Then, she held up a mirror in front of her, spun the rifle around over her shoulder, and shot all the cards behind her with spot-on precision. She winked at Joey, and walked off back home."
Mrs. Patmore stopped there.
"That's it for tonight, I think. I'm plum tuckered out," she sighed.
Several shouts of protest arose.
"No, that's not all! That's not the whole story!" Jimmy complained.
"I heard that she became part of a Wild West show, and people would throw coins in the air every time she passed. She'd shoot all of 'em before they hit the ground!" Ivy said.
Daisy nodded her head. "That's right, and the coins that she shot tripled in value! Men'd get rich off her all the time!"
Mrs. Patmore sighed, exasperated.
"We'll save those stories for another night. Now, off to bed, all of you! You've all got a busy day ahead!"
They put their heads down and fell asleep listening to the crickets under the stars.
A/N: Well, that's that. Hopefully, this scene will get everybody feeling more Western. Thanks for your kind reviews and your encouragement, it helps me out a lot! Let me know how you liked this one. :) -cfjj