Fit for a King by Diana Palmer

Author:Diana Palmer [Palmer, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460345399
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Elissa’s first sight of the Oklahoma plains drew a helpless sigh from her. Oklahoma City, where King had claimed his big gray Lincoln at the airport parking lot, was beautiful and intriguing for its rising oil derricks within the huge city itself. But the rolling plains, sweeping toward the horizon as far as the eye could see, brought tears to her eyes.

“I’ve never, ever seen anything like it,” she breathed, her expression mirroring total delight.

King swerved the car as he darted a glance at her, fascinated. “I thought you’d hate it,” he replied. “You live on the coast.”

She wasn’t even listening. “The Plains Indians—did they come down this far? The Sioux and Cheyenne?”

“Well, honey, Oklahoma was where they sent the Five Civilized Tribes back during the Trail of Tears, during the late 1830s and 1840s. Some of them fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War—a few were slaveholders, you see—and because of that, the government forced them to sell their western lands at a sacrifice. We have Chickasaws, Choctaws, Cherokees, Creek—and Seminole,” he added after a pause.

Her face brightened. “No wonder it seems like home. Don’t they say something about an ancestral memory? Perhaps some of my ancestors came here.”

“The Seminoles were fierce warriors,” he agreed easily. “They fought the government to a standstill.”

“The Apache were pretty fierce, too, I hear,” she murmured. She smiled at him and then turned her attention back to the undulating hills. “How beautiful. There’s so much space, King.”

“That’s what I like about it. No crowding yet. Plenty of room. Oil and gas and cattle.”

“The oil industry has been hard hit, though.”

“Bobby and I had to diversify,” he agreed. “But good business management will spare us too much grief. There it is.” He indicated a dirt road leading to a grove of trees and a sprawling white frame house with huge porches. There were outbuildings and endless fences and herds of white-and-red cattle everywhere.

“The ranch?” she asked, excited.

“The ranch.” He chuckled at her expression as he pulled off the main highway onto the winding dirt road. “Like it?”

“Oh, I love it,” she said softly, drinking in the lush greens and the wildflowers that seemed to be everywhere. “Those are sunflowers!” she exclaimed.

“You’ll find a lot of unfamiliar vegetation,” he said. “We don’t have sea grapes and palms out here. We have water oaks and hickory trees…. Of course, we have some fascinating animals here, too. I doubt you’ve ever seen a moose.”

“I can hardly wait.”

“You shouldn’t be this enthusiastic,” he murmured dryly, remembering how much Bess had hated the ranch when she and Bobby married. Of course, Bess had grown up in dirt-poor surroundings, and he supposed she’d had her fill of roughing it. She’d probably longed for something completely different, more refined. But Bobby, like King, had loved the plains, loved walking the hills in search of arrowheads—one of King’s favorite childhood pastimes. “You’re a city girl, remember?”

“I’m a country girl,” she argued. “Just because I work near Miami doesn’t make me citified.

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