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STAKE YOUR CLAIM


Chapter 5:


Buffy sat, holding her now cup of tea, wishing against any odds that she still held the brandy glass she’d had earlier. Caleb Montgomery and Riley Finn had to be two of the stiffest, most wooden men Buffy Summers had ever encountered. She tried to be polite, of course, like Mama had taught her, but these two were past dull and heading straight into ‘boredom’ territory.

‘How can a Deputy Sheriff in a wild Territory be so, uhm, tiresome?’ Buffy thought to herself, trying not to yawn at the two brown-eyed men before her. She could understand the Reverend Caleb Montgomery being less then exciting of course. As much as Buffy wanted to fit into the community and fully intended to worship at the local Church that Reverend Montgomery preached at, she couldn’t help but feel that maybe most of the parishoners might be a bit put off by this dull, holier then thou, albeit good-looking minister.

“Miss Summers,” Caleb Montgomery was saying, interrupting Buffy’s open-eyed sleep, “I was wondering. How did such a lovely young woman, who’s Christian name of Elizabeth is quite charming, get such an odd nickname such as ‘Buffy.’ I do believe that Elizabeth suits a lady such as yourself much more then your rather odd counterpart.”

Buffy shook her head, trying to clear the boredom induced cobwebs from her weary brain.

“Excuse me?” she asked wide-eyed and stunned beyond belief.

‘Who the heck do you think you are Mr. Caleb ‘God on Earth’ Montgomery,’ she asked silently.

Riley Finn jumped in, a bit too late for Buffy’s taste, to ease the tension that the good Reverend’s tactlessness had caused to everyone in the parlor. Deputy Finn assured Buffy that although Elizabeth was indeed a lovely name, he found Buffy to be quite interesting and even ‘cute.’

‘Cute!’ Buffy rolled her green eyes and bit her tongue to keep from mouthing her indignation. Cordelia Rayne had sighed openly at Caleb’s tactless remark; her husband snorted in contempt and the Osbournes simply said nothing, just sat staring at each other with equally red faces.

“Well, Reverend Montgomery,” Buffy began calmly, trying to push heated temper and hot words down. At least out of respect for her host and hostess, “ I will be glad to tell you exactly how I got my nickname.”

Buffy shot a look of smug delight at Cordelia who smiled right back at her, giving her guest the go ahead to shoot this pious idiot down.

“My Mother, Joyce Summers was raised by a Mammy, of course, all Southern women of my Mother’s status were raised by Mammy’s. Of course, at the time my Mother was young, the Mammy’s were unfortunately slaves. When my Mother married my Father, her Mammy came with her and she was a widow woman, with two daughters, Dicey and Rosie. Girls that my Mama grew up with like they were all sisters. My Mother and her Mammy were devoted to each other. As a matter of fact, Mr. Montgomery, Mammy Buffy was there when I was born, as she was my sister Dawn Lee. In fact, she delivered both of us from my Mother.”

Caleb Montgomery looked absolutely scandalized by Buffy’s story.

“You mean to tell me, Miss Summers, that you are nicknamed for an old slave woman from the South?”

Buffy grinned right back at him her, “yes, Reverend Montgomery, I mean to tell you that. And a finer woman, a more loving devoted and might I add, a truer Christian woman never walked the face of this Earth then my Mother’s Mammy Buffy. I’m proud to be nicknamed after her!”

Caleb Montgomery looked as if he’d been faced with a thousand demons from a Hellmouth after Buffy finished her story. Buffy heard Willow giggle next to her on the divan while Daniel Osbourne just guwaffed slightly, just enough to be heard by his wife and her. When Buffy glanced over at Cordelia Rayne, she saw the older woman look down her nose at the good Reverend, even as she winked at Buffy secretively. Ethan Rayne just sat and smiled at everyone, a bit tipsy and perhaps oblivious to the fact that the new school teacher had just ‘tactfully’ put the Good Reverend Caleb in his place by a simple, true story.

“I,” Caleb began to stammer, embarrassed by his now evident faus pax. Buffy held her hand up to the man, “don’t fret, Reverend,” she insisted evenly, “there’s still a lot of anger and harsh feelings about the South and the War. I understand. However, since you find my preferred nickname of Buffy so offensive, I’ll ask you to just call me ‘Miss Summers’ from here on in. Of course, Mr. Finn may call me Buffy if he so chooses.”

Riley Finn grinned like a loon and stood to take petite hand in his large one, “of course I’d be more then happy to address you as Buffy, Miss Summers,” he gushed happily.

Buffy noted the smug look of victory that Mr. Finn shot his counterpart. “Please, call me Riley, of course,” he smiled gallantly.

“I will,” Buffy smiled back, suddenly quite impressed with this towering dark-eyed male.

Ethan Rayne cleared his throat and glanced at the Grandfather clock in the parlour, “well,” the Mayor began, “it’s almost 7:00 PM. Where does the time go?”

Riley took a look at the clock and stood up quickly, “we have imposed way too long Miss, I mean Buffy,” he gave her his charming smile. “We’ll take our leave now, Caleb and I,” here Finn leaned closer to Buffy and almost whispered, “I will call on you soon, Miss Buffy. That is if you would like me to?”

Buffy smiled and nodded. ‘Maybe Riley Finn isn’t so bad after all,’ she tried to convince herself.

“I’d like that, Riley,” she smiled back softly, trying not to think about the poetic letter that Spike Giles had sent her. Or the perfect red rose.

After the two men had left the Rayne’s, Cordelia and Willow sequestered Buffy in the parlor while Ethan and Danile had exited to the library for cigars.

“Men are so silly,” Cordelia chuckled, “they think we are really too clueless to discuss really ‘important’ matters with them!”

Willow giggled again, she was good at that and glanced at Buffy who seemed to be in her own world.

“Are you okay, Buffy?” the red-haired woman asked, concerned. Buffy nodded and began to pace about.

“What does Mayor Rayne and your husband Daniel think about Riley Finn?” she asked Willow, turning to face the older woman.

“Well,” Willow hesitated as she tried to word everything just right. “Ethan thinks that Riley Finn is a borderline moron,” Cordelia Rayne piped in, sipping her tea delicately. “Well,” he does, Mrs. Rayne glared at her nephew’s wife, Willow.

Willow blushed and looked at Buffy nervously, “he really does Buffy,” she confirmed with a nod, “and so does my Daniel. But….of course that has more to do with how Riley Finn feels about Spike Giles. Spike is one of Daniel’s best friends and since Riley detests the Giles, well…..”

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise and immediately asked Willow, “why does Riley Finn detest the Gile’s family?”

Willow glanced over at her husband’s aunt by marriage nervously. The discomfort on the red-head’s face was apparent, but Buffy asked again with determination, “why does Riley Finn detest the Gile’s family?”

Cordelia interjected, answering for Willow who had become suddenly tongue-tied.

“Because Riley Finn is one of those men that feel that families, men with money and power of any kind are threats to simple, less fortunate men like himself.” Cordelia snorted, but in the most feminine way of course. “He, Riley, is simply a bitter man who had a painful childhood.” She continued, “Riley is an orphan and was in an orphanage somewhere back East. If the old Sheriff, Samual Finn and his wife, Sally had not gone back, saved Riley from that awful place, he might well have been completely lost. Instead the old man adopted Riley, I think he was about eleven, maybe twelve years old and brought him out here to live. Riley never liked the Giles or any other ranch families around here, he’s still too bitter about his own fate. Finn feels that people like the Giles and yes, probably Mr. Rayne and I, that we think we are above folks like him. That and Riley Finn never felt that Spike Giles was completely innocent of the murder of that old fool Quentin Travers. Riley always felt that Spike got off completely with killing the monster because of who he was. That he got special treatment or something.”

Willow nodded her head, a serious expression on her sweet face, “it’s true, Buffy,” she confirmed, “Riley, when he became Deputy tried to talk Daniel into changing his story about just what happened that day. But, Spike was being attacked, honest, just like Daniel and Xander Harris say!”

Buffy sat quietly pondering what these two women had just told her. Of course she pitied her new acquaintance, Riley Finn, for his bad luck in his early life, but for some reason, Buffy felt her loyalty in the matter belonged to Spike Giles. ‘This is going to get interesting,’ she surmised.


Spike Giles lay in his bed at his home, his Father’s ranch and tried to read the book he’d chosen for the night. His lamplight was enough to see the words written in text of the this particular book, actually it was a play. A play by William Shakespeare ‘Hamlet’ to be exact. He had read this play, more then once, in fact he’d read it over thirty times by now in his twenty-two years, but for some reason he loved the story. Why? Who could say. It was a tragedy and more then morbid in it’s plot, but Spike always found himself drawn to the romantic, tragic stories of William Shakespeare. Hamlet was one of his favorites. When poor, tortured Hamlet told Ophelia to ‘get herself to a Nunnery’ it just got Spike every time.

‘Christ, I’m a bloody ponce!’ he sighed, tossing the text on the floor by his bed. Spike glanced at the clock above his bedroom’s fireplace, it struck 10:00 PM, signalling him that the household was, for the most part, settled in for the night. It was an early workday tomorrow for the whole ranch, him included.

Reaching for the light pink piece of paper, the one from Buffy, that he had laid on his nightstand, Spike tapped it on his right hand. He had left the return note from Buffy, the one she’d given Connor for him, to read after the Gile’s household had gone to bed for the night. Well, the household had gone to bed, everyone was settled in and now was the perfect time for Spike to read Buffy’s return note to him. With a sigh, Spike opened the note and began to read the fine small script of Buffy Summers:

‘Mr. William Giles’

I will not take up your time with mindless prattle and false words that my counterparts, the girls I grew up with, learned to reel and speak without a second thought (if they had thoughts that is?).

I’m sorry, please excuse my bluntness, but I feel that you are a blunt man, even though you have a great flair for prose. I hope this does not embarrass you, it’s not meant to. I found your letter of apology to be very honest, yes, but poingnant and dare I say it, lovely, also.

I will accept your apology, Mr. W. Giles, but only if you accept my own. When I turned and looked into your open, honest eyes of indigo blue (I blush at my boldness) I realized the words of poets. Especially of the great William Shakespeare:

‘The eyes are the window to the soul’ he once said. I believe this to be true and your eyes, sir, are an open window to your soul.

Truly honest, your eyes hold no secrets like so many false looks of men and women I have had the ‘unpleasure’ to know. Please accept my regret at my unwitty words at the train station that seemed to set the tone for our entire first conversation.

I was still a bit upset by the incident on the train and was feeling quite peckish indeed. Your young brother Connor has given me your ‘token’ of your esteem and I accept it with much thanks. It is a beautiful rose, sir, and I am sure your Stepmother is very proud (as she should be) of her gardens.

I will close now, thanking you again for your apologies and lovely remembrance. I do ask one other thing of you, Mr. Giles, that you would call me ‘Buffy’ from now on. I’m particularly proud of my nickname and someday I hope to share it’s meaning with you.

Thank you again.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth Anne ‘Buffy’ Summers


Spike smiled as he finished the note and folded it back up, laying it inside the book of ‘Hamlet’ he had just been reading.

‘No rose, not even a perfect one could ever compare to you, Buffy Summers,’ he whispered, lighting a newly rolled cigarette.

He took a sip of his brandy and lay back down on his bed, wondering what Buffy was doing right at this moment.

When you looked at a woman like Buffy, looked into her green eyes, a man saw many pleasant things. A real man, one like he thought of himself as, saw a woman that you marry, have a long life with. There would be a home to build together, time to grow together and of course children together. Your lives together would be up and down, good and bad, happy and sad, but that’s what life was; a constant changing, wonderful thing if a man had a woman like Buffy by his side. And Spike had made up his mind that first day he’d seen Buffy at the station; she would be his woman; his wife; the Mother of his children.

Buffy sighed and looked out the window of the Rayne guest room that she occupied, “wonder what Mr. William Giles is up to tonight,” she thought with a smile.

It was almost midnight and tomorrow Cordelia Rayne and her were to go to the Cheyenne Mercantile and visit one Willow Osbourne, who worked there, to see this extrordinary emerald green dress that Cordelia had just gone on about for hours, earlier.

“It’s a match for your eyes, Buffy,” Cordelia had gushed excitedly, “nothing else like it here in Cheyenne! You must have it. I’d have bought it for myself but green is not my color. But you! Those eyes, the dress! Buffy it’s perfect for our supper at the Giles on Wednesday! You must have it, dear!”

Buffy had been too proud to remind Cordelia that the dress was probably too dear, cost wise, for her to purchase at this time. Of course, Papa had bestowed some money on his beloved oldest daughter to come out here and the Council had given Buffy an advance in pay, but….”

Cordelia had scoffed when Buffy grimaced at the thought of buying an extravagance such as this mysterious dress in the Mercantile.

“If you can’t afford it dear,” Cordelia had sniffed, “I’ll treat you. For Heaven’s sake! Why can’t the Cheyenne Council pull it together and pay you a decent wage?”

Buffy had chuckled, Cordelia Rayne certainly was a forthright woman who spoke her mind with no apologies and she really liked her hostess. She liked Willow and Daniel, too, they were obviously smitten with each other and Buffy enjoyed seeing people in love. There was still a lot of sensitive poetress left in herself, Buffy realized.

Since Parker had died, especially since then, Buffy had put herself in a shell, put her emotional walls up. There were many reasons for her emotional shut down but Parker’s death had been only part of it. Parker had been her young husband, a mere boy really when they married, but he ‘was’ her best friend, always. The problem with Buffy, since his death had not just been her sense of loss of Parker, though she did feel that. No, a lot of her feelings since his death had been based on a sense of guilt that drove her to shut off some of her more feminine, sensitive emotions. Buffy simply had not loved Parker Abrams the way a wife ‘should have.’


A/N: Next we’re going to go shopping! (Well as much as one could in Cheyenne in the late 1800’s!) Please read and review and thanks for reading! Luv, Spuf





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