6: Part II ‘Long Haul Guys’
Chapter
“When is Mr. Spike going to bring your horse, Miss Summers?” young Ethan Rayne Jr. asked eagerly.
“Well, Ethan,” Buffy smiled warmly, “he said that we ought to wait until I’ve moved into my new house before he brings Cloud to live with me. I suppose he thinks that maybe another pony might be a bit of an imposition on your folks and you?”
Ethan Jr. thought about this for a minute then sighed, “I don’t suppose I can ride the new mare then, huh?” he inquired with a precocious pout.
“Of course you can, Ethan,” Buffy chuckled, ruffling his dark hair, “I mean I say you can but your Mama and Papa must approve it.”
Little five-year-old Alise piped up excitedly, “can I ride Cloud Miss Summers? Oh, and did you know Mr. Spike likes you a lot? Mama says he’s, let me think what was that word Mama used, Ethan?”
The oldest Rayne child blushed, “ahh, Mama says Mr. Spike is ‘smitten’ with Miss Summers. No, actually Mama said he lov…”
Buffy interrupted the childish prattle, “that’s enough children,” she scolded gently. “We should not be discussing Mr. Spike Giles or any other adult, it’s not proper.”
She, Buffy, only hoped that the two precocious children had not seen her warm smile at their conversation. It would not be appropriate for the Rayne children to see their future school teacher blushing like a virgin over some British cowboy’s sweet talk.
‘Oooohhhh, Spike Giles is such a vain, know it all. Wish he wasn’t so darn good looking!’ she thought to herself, a hot flush of indignation bubbling up inside of her.
They, Buffy and the two oldest Rayne children were sitting in the parlor of the Ethan and Cordelia, looking over some simple readers. “You see, Ethan Jr.,” Buffy showed the young boy, “you’ll do just fine in school, I promise.”
Buffy glanced at the clock on the wall, “speaking of school,” she said to herself, “I need to get going to the school house. I’m meeting someone there today.”
Alise jumped up from her chair, “can we go Miss Summers? Mama!” she cried out, “can we go with Miss Summers to the school house?”
Cordelia Rayne hurried in from the kitchen, her dress covered in what looked like flour, “isn’t this the day you meet with Xander Harris and ‘that’ wife of his?” she asked Buffy with a snooty kind of snort. Before Buffy could answere, Cordy called back into the kitchen, “Samuel Rayne, I’m going to tan your hide young man. I love you more then God’s green earth, but you insist on teasing and trying your Mama to no end!”
Apparently, young Samuel had gotten in the pantry again, when Cordy’s back was turned and played make believe ‘snow’ with the flour she kept there.
Buffy was thankful for the break in Cordelia’s interrogation, but too soon, the older woman set her glare back on the little school teacher.
“Well?” Cordy asked with a raise of her well groomed brow.
“Yes, Cordelia,” Buffy stood up and raised herself to her full 5’1” heighth, “I’m to meet Xander and Anya Harris at the school house. I thought I’d show Mrs. Harris the readers we will be using for her learning. Is that some kind of a problem?”
Cordelia Rayne glanced about at her two oldest children who looked at her with the widest most innocent eyes in the world, “no Buffy,” Cordy finally whispered, “no problem at all.”
Mrs. Rayne departed the parlor and went back into the kitchen to attend to Master Samuel and his flour paintings.
“I think I should go to the school house alone today, children,” Buffy explained, hugging both the kids together, “next time you can come. Okay?”
The two dark-haired children grinned in anticipation, “yes Miss Summers,” Ethan answered for them both as he took his little sisters hand in his. “We’ll go help Mama with Samuel now.”
They left Buffy alone in the parlor.
There was a soft knock at the Rayne front door, “oh, Buffy,” Cordelia called from the kitchen, “Ethan asked Reverend Montgomery to escort you to the school house this morning. I do hope that is okay?”
Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes, “oh, joy,” she sighed again sarcastically, “now my morning is truly complete!”
Buffy grabbed her shawl and answered the door reluctantly.
“Good morning, Miss Summers,” Caleb Montgomery smiled at her, tipping his hat politely. “I hope it is all right that I should be the one to escort you to your destination. I think we started off on the wrong foot, Miss Summers” he emphasized the Miss Summers way too much. “I was hoping that a stroll to the school house together just might bring us to a kind of truce or at least an understanding?”
Buffy tried not to scream out loud in exasperation, ‘oh dear heaven’s someone just shoot me now! But she answered simply, “of course, Reverend,” she responded politely, if not abruptly, offerring him her arm even as he offered his.
“Well then,” the pious young dark-haired man crowed happily, “let’s be off, shall we?”
The odd looking couple walked to the school house, arm in arm. Caleb Montgomery was a good foot taller or more then Buffy and of course she felt the difference. It annoyed her for some reason.
“I suppose you are looking forward to starting classes in late August, Miss,” Caleb asked her with the most patronizing of smiles.
“Yes, Reverend,” she stammered, trying not to sound too curt, “I cannot wait to start my teaching duties. There is nothing like a young mind, willing to learn and anxious for knowledge. It is my hope that all of my students here in Cheyenne go on to use this knowledge to make a better place, here in this world that is.”
Caleb Montgomery just responded with a ‘hmmm.’ When Buffy and Caleb had reached the little school house, still so new that the red of the wood shined in defiance to the elements, they saw a fair-haired man, dressed all in black waiting by the front porch for them. Buffy recognized Spike Giles; she would now know him anywhere, leaned up against the railing of the school house, a cigarette in his hand. Demon, his prized stallion pranced close to the post he’d been tied to. Somewhere, deep down inside of Buffy, her body began to almost hum in recognition of Spike, her heart started beating rapidly.
‘This is ridiculous!’ she told herself, ‘he’s a mere man, nothing more.’
A buckboard and two horses connected sat close by the school house and Buffy assumed that this had brought Xander and his wife here.
The good Reverend whispered to Buffy, “Spike Giles is a crude man, Miss Summers. I can’t imagine why he is here to greet you. I hope he leaves soon.”
Buffy pulled her arm from Caleb’s and strode up to Spike, “fancy meeting you here, Spike. What brings you here anyway?”
Spike grinned at her and then smirked at the good Reverend Montgomery, “I rode in with Xander and Anya,” he explained, eyeing Caleb up and down with a scowl. “Thought I’d take the opportunity to see you again Buffy.”
It was Caleb’s turn to scowl, “Buffy!” he gasped, “he calls you Buffy?” the Preacher turned to look at his companion.
“Yes, he does, Reverend Montgomery,” Buffy purred, never breaking her stare from Spike, “he’s earned it.”
Again, Spike grinned at her, “like I said ‘Buffy’ I rode in with the Harris’s,” he emphasized the Buffy with wicked glee, ignoring Reverend Caleb’s dissaproving glare.
“Am I to understand Miss Summers,” Reverend Montgomery began, somewhat stunned, “that you are here to actually see Mr. Xander Harris and his so called wife, Anya?”
Buffy broke the gaze she had shared with Spike to glare at Caleb Montgomery, “yes, sir,” she confirmed. “I am here to show Mrs. Harris the new reader that I’ve brought. I’m going to teach her her letters and to read. I’ve also considered offering to teacher her her numbers, if she likes that is.”
Buffy smiled coyly at Spike who shot back a look of utmost respect and admiration for her.
“Is that a problem, Reverend?” Buffy batted her lashes and smiled softly, the smile of Saints, she hoped.
“Well, Miss Summers,” Reverend Caleb sighed, a look of pious indignation, “a well brought up lady like yourself would do better then to waste her time on an ex-strumpet like Anya Jenkins, or Harris as she likes to call herself now.”
Buffy tensed up, she stiffened her backbone and stood erect right up to this Reverend Caleb Montgomery with determination and nerve, “tell me, Reverend,” she began softly, glancing over to Spike, who had one of his patent smirks on his face. “Are you a literate man, sir?” Buffy asked innocently enough, never breaking her green eyes from Spike’s blue ones.
“Of course, Miss Summers,” Caleb answered with a snort, “I couldn’t be a Preacher if I couldn’t read the ‘Good Book’ now could I?”
“Then, sir,” Buffy sighed most ladylike as she shook her head slightly, puzzled, “I might ask you, as a man of the cloth…..when was the last time you read that great passage from the New Testament?”
Caleb looked like a trapped animal, “which one would that be Miss Summers?” he asked confused.
“The one where Jesus Christ says: ‘He who is without sin, cast the first stone.”
Reverend Montomery looked like he had been hit with Holy Water from the Pope himself as Buffy smiled sweetly and said, “good day, Reverend Caleb Montgomery.”
She turned her back to him, nodded her head at that demon in man’s clothing, Spike Giles, and headed into the school house to show that so called ex-strumpet, Anya Harris the new reader book.
Spike didn’t even try to hide his glee at the come uppance of the good Reverend Caleb Montgomery, so he slapped the taller man on his back, good-naturedly.
“Well, Preacher man,” Spike chuckled, “it’s not as if you had a chance with the little school teacher anyway!”
Caleb glared at the smaller fair-haired man, “you sir,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “are a cad and bohemian of the worst kind. Do not think that the good men of Cheyenne and this Territory have not ‘heard’ of your so called ‘claim’ on Miss Summers. It’s a scandal through and through; one that is Pagan in nature and would give our Elizabeth Summers a blush of horror if she was aware of it!”
Spike laughed out loud, “a blush of horror?” he snorted. “You Reverend, are the bloody horror. You preach forgiveness and tolerance on Sunday morning, like you well should, but you live the life of a man who thinks he’s above all others.”
Caleb looked shocked for a moment or two then hissed at Spike, “you sir, are an insufferable, rude man!”
Spike chuckled again, “and you sir,” he retorted gleefully, “are a bloody pompous arse!”
The Reverend Montgomery stormed off, back to his Church in a fit of righteous indignation.
“Idiotic git!” Spike called out to the receding figure, “you aren’t good enough to kiss Buffy’s feet!”
Buffy liked Anya Harris. The woman was honest and straightforward, a bit too much so maybe, but in a way, it was a nice change from the usual phoney genteelness Buffy was used to.
“I’ll teach you your reading,” Buffy had promised the eager young woman, “and your numbers, if you would like that is.” Anya had made it clear that she would love to learn anything Buffy could teach her and they struck a deal; Buffy would teach Anya her reading and math, Anya would cook a meal or two for Buffy. It was the beginning of what would prove to be a long and loyal friendship.
She, Buffy hummed happily as she left the little school house to return home, only to run into Spike Giles, waiting for her by his rather intimidating horse, Demon.
“Oh,” Buffy squeaked in surprise, stunned to find this man still here at the school door. “I thought you would be pursuing more pleasant things, Spike,” she murmered, passing by him without a glance his way.
“I am,” he assured her with a dazzling smile, one she tried hard not to notice. “I can’t think of anything more pleasant then your company, Buffy Summers,” he added, falling into step with her.
chance with me, Spike?” she inquired with a coquettish grin.
“Because, Miss Buffy, you are a smart, quick witted young woman who must know exactly what man is the long haul guy. It is certainly not Caleb Montgomery, nor Riley Finn (he noticed she flinched at that name; oh he had heard of that git Riley’s interest in her) or any other fool within a thousand miles of here. No, Miss Buffy Summers, ‘I am’ the long haul guy for you. If we could just skip this nonsensical ‘dance’ that convention seems to think we should do, then I think we would save a lot of time and energy. Get right to the good stuff.”
He smirked, caught her hot little green eyed gaze and winked at her warmly.
The little school teacher looked as if she had been asked to walk naked down Main Street, “you pompous, egotistical, vain man!” Buffy cried, her face flushed with indigantion.
“Spike Giles,” Buffy Summers sighed in frustration, “you truly are too big for your boots!”
He grinned again and closed the few feet of gap that lay between them as he kind of pinned her up against the Rayne white picket fence.
“You can run, Buffy,” he whispered as he leaned in close to her right ear, “but you’ll never hide from me. I’m a patient man. Okay, I’m not, but I’ll make an exception for you. I’ll be waiting Buffy, for whenever you decide to come to your senses and let me in.”
Spike smiled (what he hoped was a seductive smile) and tucked a strand of loose Buffy hair behind her ear. “Oh,” he purred, “by-the-way, your house will be done by the weekend. I’ll be bringing Cloud around soon after. Until then, and after,” he added with another smirk, “I’ll be finding any excuse to throw myself in your path that I can. So, consider yourself warned, Miss Summers!”
With a laugh, Spike turned and sauntered off, leaving a stunned Buffy Summers, school teacher, standing open mouthed by the Rayne’s picket fence.
A/N: Okay, a couple of things here. I know that BTVS/ATS were not particularly religious shows, but this is a story set in the 1880’s and most people back then had some beliefs of some kind. That’s why I’m throwing Reverend Caleb, Bible quotes, etc. in here. I am not trying to be offensive to any one or politcally incorrect in any way, but if writing about the old West, etc., you have to throw religion in there somewhere. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review, I love any reveiws. Luv, Spuf
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