Wanted (Jack Kelly x Reader)

.11.

--ʏ/ɴ--

𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙴 left, I sank to the arranged-bed again, hand clasped to my side (more in memory of pain than any actual occurrence) as I arranged myself in the blankets until I received some modicum of comfort.  My thoughts were tumbled, confused; he'd come, he'd tried to make me jealous? he'd tried to kiss me... 

With difficulty I wheeled my direction back to him making me jealous-- he could have hardly known I was going to be there, and he'd accepted to dance with her before even seeing me. No, much as he said, he was dancing because he wanted to. A tiny voice piped up, reminding me I was dancing with others before even knowing he was there as well, and that dancing was hardly a crime. 

Sighing, I abated that line of thought, sternly reminding myself that he had tried to kiss me, without my say-so. It could be argued I hadn't said no, but I didn't want to think about why that was. The point, which my still fluttering heart didn't seem to be able to get, was that Jack Kelly had not in the slightest redeemed himself, and if I had anything to say about it, he wouldn't be doing that any time soon. 

I curled up in my blanket and tried to sleep. And at the insistence of my heart, I allowed the memory of the soft, not-quite-there touch of his lips to float through my head, until I fell asleep fully and dreamed of more. 

*

Morning arrived to find me sitting on the tailboard of the captain's wagon. Emma had loaned me her hairbrush and insisted I keep the dress I was wearing. I'd put my trousers back on underneath, though, leaving me free to ride front-facing and still keep my modesty intact. The plan was simply to go about my chores and work as I was, and if confronted, explain. Preferably with the captain there, given as reactions might be... volatile. 

The plan also included an avoidance of one Jack Kelly, but unfortunately he didn't seem aware of that. 

"Mornin' darlin'," He said, right as I began to resaddle Lady for our day's ride. "How're you doin' this morning?" 

"Markedly less chipper than you," I replied, tightening the girth of the saddle. Some of the wagons had switched paths, as was common when trains intersected. This left us with a couple new people, mostly middle-aged men, but with one large family that happened to include the boy who'd asked me to dance. 

I'd found out his name was Westley, and while he'd shot a quizzical glance at my trousers and explanation, he seemed entirely too infatuated with Emma to question much. He was the oldest, which meant that I was no longer the youngest member of our group-- that honor fell to Robert, the Mitchell's smallest child, only two years old. Charity was his sister, at age five, and she'd already shown herself that morning to be fascinated by the horses and, by extension, me. 

Speaking of the devil, she was tugging at my skirt. "Y/N, where's Wes?" 

"I'm not sure-- why don't you go back to your wagon? I think we'll be moving out soon," I replied, thankful for her distraction. 

"But I don't wanna. I wanna ride with you," said the little girl, sticking her lower lip out dramatically. 

"How about I give y' a horsey ride back to your wagon?" Jack offered, and I was almost grateful for a brief moment. 

Charity acquiesced, and then protested seconds later as Kelly lifted her onto his shoulders. "You are not a horse."

He laughed, replying, "Nope, but that's the fun part-- I can be whichever an'mal you'd like." 

"There's a horse right there," Charity said, folding her little arms. I let out a soft snort, trying not to smile as Jack reluctantly stuck her on top of his horse and led it down the train of wagons who'd formed to be on their way, to the Mitchell's wagon. 

I smirked slightly to myself-- he'd probably end up riding down that way, which would give me a brief respite from his attempts to 'win me back'. 

"Aye, girl, you seen one of them hired boys 'round? Got me some boots which need polishin'... 'nless you wouldn't mind doin' it," a voice said, leer evident in his tone even before I turned to face him. 

"Don't believe that's one of their jobs. Mine either," I said offhandedly, nose wrinkling slightly at the man before me. I turned back to Lady, adjusting the saddle one more time before mounting easily. Ignoring the man's shocked choke at both my abrupt dismissal and the way I was riding. Honestly, it wasn't even particularly surprising. My pants were tucked into my boots, so you couldn't even see a glimpse of my ankle. 

"Young lady, d'your parents know you're ridin' like a man?" 

"I'd reckon so, seeing as they're probably watchin us right now." I said, neglecting to mention that it would be from Heaven if they even were. 

He glanced around, confused. I took the opportunity to urge Lady forward, and she tossed her head obediently, stepping smartly towards the front of the line. 

That was only the beginning of the comments I received that day. Except for some strange reason, it seemed as if none of them managed to realize I was the hired boy they'd only known as Matthew before the wagon train joined. Maybe that was better, I had to admit, seeing as few had given the hireds much regard before. Although, I'd have taken that to the kind of 'regard' I was getting now. 

Emma had confided to me that she'd received no less than 3 marriage proposals from men in the time we'd been on our journey, each one (of course) rejected. She said it with a mixture of surprise and disgust, especially about the one who was older than her father. I'd already bagged my first by the end of the day-- apparently, although I'd already had a small reputation for flippancy and disregard for 'femininity' (which I could and would argue against, who defined that anyway?), the men going West were so desperate for female company that it was practically a mark of passage among the few women in our group. 

Even Mrs. Mitchell, who I'd talked to during a brief break as I brought Charity back to her from wherever-that-child-had-disappeared-to-that-time, had received one, as the man was under the brief impression that she wasn't married with five children. "And another on the way," she confided with a mischievous wink, to which I made all the proper sounds of excitement before excusing myself in case Jack ended up finding me. 

I moved around frequently that day, avoiding his attempts to do pretty much anything, and by the end of the day he seemed to get the hint. So much so that he didn't even look my way as we were setting up camp for that night. Not that I was looking, or anything of the such. 

Despite it all, I still wasn't entirely convinced that being with him was a bad idea. Especially when we rolled out our bedrolls beside each other again, and he kept his mouth shut besides a brief good night. 

Which I returned, of course. 

I wouldn't want to be rude.