Lizzie (& Griff) >> June Promptlies #2

Happy Friday!!!

It's Week 2 of my June Promptlies Link-up!

Click HERE for the info. :]

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Soooooo. . . I did a thing. AGAIN. Yeah. I kinda brainstormed another story idea---which kinda is an old story I'd thought up a year or two ago but never really did anything with---and have a shiny new cast of characters for this week's prompt ~~as well as the hankering to write this story along with the other 23549513887 things I need to do~~. HA. WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING. Oh. I guess I really am a writer, y'all! Nothing published, but STORIES IN MAH HEAD. . . *internal screaming*

*COUGH*

But this one. THIS ONE. Is a Western! You know how I absolutely adore Louis L'Amour westerns and that I've been reading them since I was literally two years old? (Seriously, my mum has a video of me walking around with my dad's L'Amour novel---upside down---babbling to myself at age two.) Well, I got this crazy idea of wanting to do a faerietale retelling set in the Wild West in the late 1800s. There's not all that many retellings set/inspired by the West---except now! thanks to Kyle Robert Shultz & his Crockett & Crane series. <--LOVE. So, I wanted to write one, but feature a tale on the little-known side. And this prompt was perfect to get me thinking again about this idea again.

Howevah. . .
I'm going to be mean & not tell you which faerietale. . . You die-hard faerietale fans must guess which one I'm using. If you answer correctly, I'll send as many virtual cookies as possible. ;D

So go on. Please read!

> > THE PROMPT < <

I TRIIIIIED to keep this in the max limit of words, but it was impossible. I couldn't take anything out, because it felt so necessary. . . And HOPEFULLY it'll be so engaging you won't even know it's 683 words over the max count. . . heheh.

Enjoy!

> > MY STORY < <

I glare at Yance and his stubborn-set face. Despite the stern expression, his eyes hold a sense of urgency and sorrow. I couldn’t blame him, nor the rest of my brothers standing around us.

They were innocent.

But—somehow—there was too much stupid, false evidence against them. All of them.

And it was forcing them to run. Something they wouldn’t dream of doing—they were too proud.

I attempted to swallow back the tears like the tough ranch girl I tried to be, daughter of the late reigning ranch lord and sister to seven steel-backed cowboys. The wild ways of the West had taken Papa just a year before, and now it seemed I would lose my brothers as well.

A blasted tear escaped. I was never good at hiding my emotions.

But I wanted to be brave. I wanted to fix this. What would I do without them? I couldn’t run the ranch on my own. I couldn’t protect our assets of cattle, pastureland, natural springs, and rich soil. This was our kingdom. Even with our faithful hired hands, how could I keep it all together and promise safety and good pay with the land-hungry neighbors all around?

And when would I see these dear faces again?

Yance, and his gentle, chocolate eyes. Ben’s hearty laugh. Marsh, and his bear hugs. Dan’s gift for music. Anders, and his way with horses. Zach’s incredible woodwork. And Leo’s listening ears. Of them all, I felt closest to Leonel, who was two years older than me, the youngest.

The tears were flowing freely now. But I didn’t care. I felt each of my brothers gather around and wrap me in their arms. They didn’t say much. But no one had to. I could practically taste the urgency and tension in the air. It wasn’t every day one’s brothers were accused of murder. And all seven of them to boot. I didn’t think I’d ever understand how that happened. But I knew their story, and I trusted them with all my heart.

Finally, someone broke our circle. But I’d never forget how safe and loved I’d felt in the midst of it. I brushed my tears away with the sleeve of my dress, twisting my apron in my hands and determining in my heart to be strong.

“Be careful,” I began, my voice shaky at first, but gaining that façade of confidence I wanted them to hear. “And don’t worry about me. I will manage—you can be certain of that, if anything. But please—be safe. The Navajo won’t take kindly to trespassers—no matter how friendly you’ve been to their chief.”

Leo squeezed my hand, stopping them from strangling my poor apron. “We’ll be fine, Lizzie,” he said softly, and the others murmured assent. But I watched Yance, who seemed to be taking this the hardest. As the eldest, I’m sure he felt torn in his big-brother job of protector—to help his brothers, or to watch over me. But we all knew it wasn’t I who faced danger. Still, the sense of helplessness was threatening to drown us all.

They had to go. Nothing but a noose waited for them here—and I was keeping them too long. Even the safety of our secret cove and the tranquil canyon where we found current refuge would soon be discovered as the lawmen tore our ranch apart searching for innocent men.

Anger began to boil in my veins.

I would prove their innocence.

Somehow.

Or die trying.

▲▲▲

Railroad millionaire, Griff Morrow, had traveled across the entire country from the East to West coast, but only one Wild West flower caught his eye in all those miles of track and townships. And she was walking toward him.

Lizzie Swann.

From the rumors around town, her large homestead was in danger of collapsing. Until now, he had assumed the references to a Miss Swann and her failing ranch were that of an older woman, mature in her years, and the subject of scorn because she wouldn’t accept any decent offer for her land. Already neighboring ranchers were pushing cattle onto her borders—the greedy scum. And if he were to believe the gossip, she’d lost half of her hired men due to unseemly accidents. It seemed someone wanted her property, and they were using fear to get it.

But this was no elderly maid. Lizzie Swann was young and lovely, Griff observed, slightly surprised. Long, brown hair flowed in soft waves down her back framing an oval face with large hazel eyes. Her figure was slender and lean, but he could see from the way she held herself she had a strength all her own.

Her eyes were what caught his attention. He imagined they held a sparkle when she laughed, but all he could see now was an underlying sadness.

Talk of her brothers was most likely the cause of her suffering. It had been two weeks, but the murder was just as fresh in the minds of the townsfolk as if it had happened yesterday. One hardly made it two steps without catching a conversation tied to the crime of the year. He’d been here all of a week and was sick of it. Underneath the shadows in Lizzie’s eyes, he sensed she was as well.

He stood to his feet as she approached his table. “Sir,” she began, her voice soft and gentle to his ears. “I must speak with you if you’ve a few moments to spare. Your foreman said I’d find you here.”

“Miss Swann,” he said in greeting, then gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Please sit,” he offered, and helped her into the chair before taking his own once again. “May I order refreshment for you? A coffee perhaps?”

Her eyes widened, and she began to protest, “Oh! No, I couldn’t—”

“Please. I insist,” he added with a grin. He flagged a waitress and put in the order before turning back to her. Lizzie was clasping and unclasping her hands in a nervous manner, and he couldn’t help but catch her blush as she glanced at him and looked away.

Their coffees came quickly and once her fingers were wrapped comfortably around her cup, he gave her his undivided attention. “Now, Miss Swann. How may I be of service?”

She took a tentative sip, then placed her cup back down with a clink. “I’ve a business proposition, Mr Morrow, and I do hope you’ll consider it.” The sorrow returned to her pretty features as he watched her thoughts cloud her face. She continued, her words coming faster, “I have heard much of your reputation, sir, and know that first and foremost you are an honest businessman, and I wish to—to offer you the deed to my ranch and all the property and equipment it includes.”

Griff blinked, caught unawares. But she went on.

“I can’t do it without my brothers. And the longer time passes, the more I lose. I trust not a one of those other ranchers offering me ‘reasonable’ offers—my hired hands are practically terrified to set out to work each morning because of Madam Hotch’s men, and I cannot ask them to continue when their lives could be in danger. The sheriff—” Lizzie’s voice hitched, softening further to a whisper. “The sheriff turns a blind eye to their activities and won’t listen to me…”

Griff listened quietly until her last sentence faded and all one could hear was the clinking of dishes in the hotel’s restaurant. If there was one thing he was known for, it was that he was a deep thinker. And no decision he ever made was on impulse, no matter how great the bargain. It was the key to his success in the railroad business. And would continue.

“Please, Mr Morrow, will you buy my ranch? I made a promise to my brothers and it’s one I intend to keep. But I cannot do so while worrying about my home and the people and property entrusted to it.” She hadn’t touched her coffee again, but had returned to wringing her hands. “If you like, I will show you the property this afternoon, or tomorrow even.” She met his eyes more directly this time, in anticipation.

“I am not one for hasty decisions, Miss Swann—”

“Please, call me Lizzie.”

He nodded acknowledgment. “But I would like to see the property, Miss Lizzie. From what I’ve heard, I’d say you are sitting on the best bit of land for hundreds of miles.”

A smile tugged her lovely lips. “You would be correct, Mr Morrow. It’s my little kingdom, but it’s nothing without my brothers.” And just like that, her smile transformed.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and hoped his voice held the compassion he wished to convey. “I don’t know the details, Miss Lizzie. But I listen and I listen well. And if your brothers are anything like what these folks say, then they’re no murderers. We’ll look at the ranch this afternoon and I’ll sign the deed directly afterwards. And should all come out well in the end, perhaps someday you’ll be asking to buy back your little kingdom,” he said with a smile. Her features lit up, proving him right. Her eyes did sparkle when she smiled. The thought of wanting to know her better flitted through his mind.

She ventured to grasp her coffee mug just as a blush graced her cheeks. For some reason, it flattered him he was the cause.

“May I ask what you intend to do once ownership is transferred?”

She sobered immediately, and a different kind of spark came to her eyes. “I’m going to prove their innocence.”

He nodded thoughtfully. Wouldn’t he do the same if his brother was falsely accused of a crime? He didn’t know the Swann brothers, nor the whole of this entire mess, but something didn’t sit right, no matter what one heard. “How?”

She smiled as if she possessed the biggest secret in the world. “I have a lead.”

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If you made it this far, I congratulate you! This story is extremely low on the totem pole, but what did you think? Could you discern which tale inspired this one??

There's still time to enter the linkup! The link tool will be open until tomorrow night, so be sure to jump in before then. :] And have fun!

Ta-ta for now, y'all!

Comments

Christine SmithJune 15, 2019 at 6:09 PM
IS IT THE WILD SWANS??? Or The Six Swans? (They're both so similar, I never know which one to reference.) BUT SARAAAAH! That is one of my top, TOP favorite fairy tales. When you said she had a bunch of brothers I instantly thought of that fairy tale. And THEN when it said her last name was Swann I was like YASSS.

Okay. Terrible confession time. I'm...not really into Westerns. *hides in shame forever* BUT a Western written by my own dear Sarah based off my favorite fairy tales is COMPLETELY different. And for some reason this fairy tale just WORKS in a Western. I can totally see this.

I AM HOOKED ALREADY!!!

And I feel you on the plague of plot bunnies. The struggle is REAL. But...it's also kinda fun. XD Ah, the life of a writer.

ANYWAYS. This was fabulous and such a brilliant idea! :D (But now I'm sooo curious why the brothers got accused like that. o.o)
EmilyJune 16, 2019 at 7:07 AM
Hey, girl! I nominated you for the Liebster Award. Here's the link! https://growingintofriends.com/2019/06/15/the-liebster-award-1/
Mylan YoungJune 16, 2019 at 1:18 PM
I'm not familiar with Westerns but I sometimes enjoy reading historical Christian Western fictions by Karen Witemeyer... I don't know if that counts though, haha :D I always look forward to reading these promptlies, it gives me insight into writers' thinking processes since I'm not a writer myself!
Jameson C. SmithJuly 1, 2019 at 3:11 PM
Oooh, this was so good! I'm not familiar with the tale it's based on, but I'm super intrigued and already love these characters. I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS.

The new blog design is super pretty, by the way!