Stan Keller held out his hand across the pile of goods, a friendly gesture meant to signify that the deal was done, and everyone was satisfied. Across from him, the leader of the Arapaho hunting party studied Keller for a moment, then returned the gesture, holding out his own hand. They shook on the deal, and then Keller unwound his lanky frame and stood up. He watched as the five Arapaho also stood and backed off toward their horses.

Keller kept a smile on his face, and a hand very close to his gun. He might trade with these scum, pretend to be their friend, but he didn’t trust them at all. Hell, the only reason they were leaving this little trade alive was that he needed them for something more important. They didn’t know that, of course. Which was good, because if the Arapaho had any idea of what he was planning, they sure wouldn’t leave him alive either.

His smile turned to a smirk as he watched the Arapaho leaving, always keeping at least two of the men watching him. So, they didn’t trust him either. It didn’t really matter of course. They had what they had wanted - brand new US Army issue rifles, ammunition, and whiskey. Quite a haul, in fact, for what they gave up. Keller almost laughed, imagining the Arapaho believing they had pulled a fast deal on him.

The Indians had mounted their horses, and now they sped off into the hills. Anxious to try out the new rifles, Keller assumed - or maybe the whiskey. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He knew the small band of Arapaho had been in the area for a while, hunting and fishing. The hunting in the area was good, and would probably be even better with the new rifles, so they would undoubtedly stay put for a while. And that was the whole idea.

He looked down at the pile of goods by his feet. Three old, single shot rifles that were battered and streaked with war paint. A couple of dozen genuine Arapaho arrows and an old, somewhat tattered war shield. On the face of it, the Indians had certainly gotten the better deal.

Of course, things were not always as they seemed. And now, with his trading partners out of sight, Keller did laugh out loud. Things were working out so well. In a few days, he and his business partners would be rich beyond belief - and the Arapaho would be dead, blamed for a heinous crime that would be committed. And all it had cost him was a few rifles that had been stolen anyway and some watered-down rotgut whiskey from his newest cover business.

Keller turned and waved into the trees. Almost immediately two of his men appeared, leading the horses. He’d partnered with Amos Feld and Luke Shellum for almost three years now. He didn’t trust them any more than he trusted the Arapaho, and he knew these men didn’t trust him either. But their business relationship had made all of them wealthy, and that was all they cared about.

The three men didn’t talk - they didn’t need to. The first part of the job was done, and had been accomplished without a hitch. They gathered up the goods left by the Arapaho, taking care to cover them well on the packhorse.
It wouldn’t be good for the people in Rock Creek to see what Keller had just traded for.

________________________________________

Teaspoon Hunter made his morning rounds of Rock Creek, nodding greetings to most, stopping to talk here and there, and just generally making his presence known. People liked to know that the local law was on the job. And all in all, everything seemed quiet and in order.

Except for the Wild Winds saloon.

Teaspoon stood in the street, regarding Rock Creek’s newest business establishment. Oh, the saloon itself had been there before, but the ownership was new. So were the name, and the gaudy sign, and all of the gambling equipment that had been brought in over the last few weeks. In turn, that brought in more customers, not all of them the types welcome in Rock Creek. More customers meant more noise and more mess, and that meant more complaints from the town’s citizens.

As he watched, a couple of the saloon girls came stumbling out of the front door, laughing about something. The tight, rather skimpy clothing they wore highlighted their cleavage, and Teaspoon found himself wondering if everything would have tumbled out if the girls had actually fallen. As it was, they weren’t leaving much to the imagination anyway, leaning over the railing in front of the saloon, already trolling for the day’s first customers.
Teaspoon looked down the street to where Polly’s saloon sat, quiet and serene. Even at night when the place filled up, there was something dignified about her place, and he didn’t think it was just his personal feelings for the owner that made him believe that. He could count the number of weekly complaints about something at Polly’s on one hand. Now the Wild Winds, on the other hand - he’d probably have more complaints on that place before lunch today.

Just then the saloon’s owner came out onto the sidewalk and Teaspoon studied him closely. Bob Billings was tall, thin and balding, he walked with a slight limp, and he seemed to have a perpetual scowl on his face. He’d only talked to the man a few times, but every instinct Teaspoon had told him there was something wrong with the picture. Billings wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t the kind of man who accumulated enough money to buy and renovate a place like the Wild Winds. Not through legitimate means, anyway.

Teaspoon sighed. It wasn’t like he could act just on his instinct - he needed proof that something was wrong. And Billings, or whoever might be backing him, played it smart, staying right on the edge of being legal. They cooperated with the law just enough on the complaints to make it seem like they were trying to be helpful. It was frustrating, because he knew something stank at the Wild Winds.

Teaspoon looked up, aware that Billings was staring at him. He tipped his hat in greeting, and in return Billings just scowled more and then retreated back into the saloon.

He heard his name being called and looked around, spotting Jimmy and Buck coming toward him. He raised a hand in greeting and started in their direction.

“Teaspoon, Rachel said you wanted to see us,” Jimmy said as they met.

“Yup, got a couple of special runs I need you boys to make.”

“Where to?” Buck asked.

Teaspoon looked back over his shoulder at the Wild Winds as something seemed to reach out from there and send a chill up his spine. “I got the paperwork over to the Marshal’s office,” he answered, steering them that way. “Let’s go talk over there.”

________________________________________

Amos smashed the chest down to the ground in anger, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions. “Where the hell is it?” he demanded.

Keller was struggling to hold in his own anger as he replied. “How should I know? It was supposed to be here,” he snarled. “You were there when it was planned, same as me.”

“Yeah, well, obviously Danworth changed his mind,” Luke pointed out. “What do we do now?”

Keller looked around, surveying the carnage. They’d stopped a private coach on its way from Denver on the main trail to St. Joseph, believing it would contain a considerable sum of gold being sent from Sheldon Danworth to seal a business deal. The coach now lay tipped on its side, the panels and seats ripped out in the attempt to find the gold.

Around the coach, trunks and boxes were strewn, all torn open, the contents shredded - and no gold anywhere. Farther out were the bodies. The driver and his assistant had died first. The three highwaymen had shot them from a distance with the new and very accurate army rifles. Then there were the passengers. Harold McHenry, one of the chief accountants for the Danworth banking and mining fortune, and his wife Ruth. Esther Howell, the personal assistant to the rich and mighty Danworths. And finally Rebecca Danworth, the old man’s daughter, supposedly sent east to escort the gold.

The men in the group had died easy, shot until they breathed their last. They would have just been in the way. The women hadn’t been so lucky. They died, but not fast or easy. Especially Rebecca. Keller had kept her alive the longest, punishing her for every sin, real or imagined, committed by her father. They raped her, beat her, raped her again. Her nude and battered body lay the farthest from the coach. She’d fought, and fought hard, tried to escape, but in the end they had caught her.

But as gratifying as it was to picture Sheldon Danworth’s face when he learned of his precious daughter’s fate, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. There was supposed to be gold on the coach.

There was no gold.

Keller realized the other two men were waiting for an answer from him. One corner of his mouth lifted in something that might have resembled a smile had there been any humor in the movement at all. “We do exactly as planned,” he said finally. “Get one of those Arapaho rifles and a bunch of the arrows to stick around. When someone finds the coach, they’ll blame the Indians and go after them.” He shook his head, his sneer widening. “When old man Danworth hears what happened to his baby, he’ll probably wipe out the whole Arapaho nation - and any other damn Indian tribe that gets in his way.”

“But what about the gold?” Amos whined.

Keller’s arm shot out so quickly it was almost a blur, and he backhanded Feld across the jaw. “What about the gold?” he repeated. “Do you see any gold here?” When the other two men shook their heads he continued, “We take the jewelry and valuables. It’s not the gold we were expecting, but with little Miss Rebecca here, it’s not a bad haul. Then we head back to Rock Creek and lay low while old man Danworth wages war on the Indians.”

Keller looked off to the west, toward Denver, and suddenly he laughed out loud, filling the air with the evil sound. “And while he’s busy killing Indians, we’ll figure another plan to get the gold.”

________________________________________

Buck came to the top of one of the rolling hills and stopped, taking a breather for himself and his horse. They’d covered a lot of ground already this morning, going at a pretty steady pace, and he knew they should be home in Rock Creek by early afternoon. The special run had so far been uneventful.

He looked around, savoring the wide-open space. He was secretly glad Jimmy had chosen to take the northeastern route, leaving the southwestern run for him. The farther east you went, the more people and towns there were. That just meant more opportunity to get turned away or ridiculed because of his Kiowa blood. He would have taken either run, but he much preferred the less populated areas.

He grinned - Jimmy had probably chosen the eastern route for exactly the opposite reasons. The other rider liked to be around the action.

He stretched in the saddle then leaned over to pat the mare’s neck. “Just a little farther and we should find some nice streams,” he promised the horse. “Then we’ll take a little break.” He grinned again as the horse nodded her head, almost as if she understood.

Buck pushed his heels gently against the horse’s flanks, starting down the hill, then quickly reined her in again. Shading his eyes against the morning sun he studied the horizon in front of him. Dark puffs of smoke were rising into the air, darkening the sky.

Fire.

There weren’t any towns out that way, and there was no way to tell from this distance what it might be that was burning. Well, there was really only one way to find out, so he urged the horse forward again, picking up the pace.

________________________________________

With the coach ablaze and the wagon horses loaded with anything of value that could be scavenged, Keller turned to survey the scene one last time. The old rifle with the war paint lay near the driver, and they had placed arrows into the trunks and a couple of the bodies. They had covered their horses’ hooves before starting the raid, so that would hide most indications that the animals were shod. He grunted in approval - it should be more than enough “evidence” to send the local law out after the Arapaho. And that, in turn, would keep the attention off of him and his partners.

He turned to Feld and Shellum. “Let’s go,” he said, mounting his horse. “We’ll head up into the hills and take the long way around, just in case anyone is coming along the road.”

The other two men nodded in agreement and mounted up. “How long do you figure before someone finds them?” Amos asked.

Luke shrugged. “Could be any time. There are always people around the road.”

“Good reason to get out of here then,” Keller urged impatiently. “We don’t want to be here when someone comes along.” That would ruin all their perfect planning.

The other two looked around nervously, then started toward the hills, leading the laden wagon horses. Keller followed close behind, bringing up the rear. They picked their way carefully through the deep ruts left by some of the thousands of settlers’ wagons that had passed through on the way west. Luke’s horse stumbled slightly, but horse and rider were quickly righted and they kept going.

None of them noticed the single hoof cover that fell off and got left behind.

________________________________________

Buck rode into the scene of the carnage, fighting the impulse to gag. The fire that had burned the coach was mostly just smoldering smoke now, but the nauseating smell of charred flesh permeated the air. He didn’t even bother checking the blackened body lying right next to the wagon for signs of life.
He dismounted, carefully tethering his nervous horse to a downed tree. The animal wasn’t any keener about the smells than he was, and the last thing he needed was for the horse to bolt and leave him stranded.

Kneeling beside the first body, he felt for a pulse or any sign of breathing. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t find either - the man had several bullet wounds in his back, and an arrow sticking out of his side. He moved on to the next body, another man, older and very well dressed. Not that his expensive attire had made any difference. He was just as dead as the first man was.

Moving a little farther out Buck found another body, this time a young woman. He fought back more nausea at the sight of her torn clothes, the blood between her legs. He confirmed that she was dead, then carefully pulled her clothing back over her before moving on to the last body. It was another woman, older than the first one by at least fifteen years he’d guess. Her clothing had been ripped away as well, the evidence of violation clear. He covered her the best he could too, then walked toward the wagon.

There were a lot of footprints around, many of them covering each other. But within a couple of minutes Buck had identified the various tracks, and eliminated those belonging to the dead. That left him with four sets of human prints that he couldn’t identify - and one set he’d bet belonged to another woman. He could see signs of a scuffle with those prints, the short, deep prints indicating she had been struggling, and then those same boots being dragged. But the boots didn’t match either of the women he had found, so he was guessing the attackers must have taken the owner with them.

On the far side of the wagon he found what he was really looking for - horse tracks leading directly away from the scene. Two sets of hooves were very large, and he figured those would belong to the wagon horses, which were missing. There were three other sets, slightly blurred at the edges as though the hooves had been covered.

Something caught his eye and he moved up a few steps, then bent down to pick something up. It was a square of rawhide, with a piece of rope next to it. And sure enough, just past that there was one clear hoof print amongst the other tracks - and it belonged to a shod horse. It was very reminiscent of the tracks he had shown Kid months earlier when they had been trying to help a Sioux warrior named Curly.

He studied the closest tracks, then let his eyes wander out. Signs of the horses’ passage led almost due north. Buck looked up, staring off into the forested hills in that direction.

________________________________________

Amos fell back onto his butt as he scrambled deeper into the trees. “Damn!”

“What is it?” Keller asked, looking up from where he was sorting the jewelry they had stolen.

“There’s someone down there,” Amos answered. He got to his feet and brushed off his pants. “He found the tracks and he’s looking right up here.”

Keller quickly got to his feet and snatched up the field glass from where Amos had dropped it. Lifting it to his eye, he peered down toward the burning wagon. And sure enough, there was a man crouching near the wagon - and he did eerily seem to be staring right up to where they were. Still, Keller wasn’t quite as prone to panic. “No way he can see us from that far away,” he stated firmly. “He ain’t got no field glass.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Amos admitted. “Just surprised me, that’s all.”

“He heading this way?” Luke asked.

Keller shook his head, still studying the stranger through the field glass. Finally he nodded. “Thought he looked familiar,” he said. “It’s that half-breed, rides for the Pony Express.”

Behind Keller’s back, Amos and Luke exchanged worried looks. “Word in town is that he’s a damn good tracker,” Luke pointed out.

“Maybe we should get out of here, sort the stuff later,” Amos added.

“He’s just looking,” Keller said calmly. He was confident in the quality of the deception they had laid. “If he’s any kind of tracker, he knows he’s outgunned. Should even be figuring he’s apt to run into a bigger Arapaho band at the end of the tracks.” He looked over his shoulder at the other two men. “If he goes to Rock Creek for the Marshal, we got no problem. We’ll be gone long before he gets back. And if he decides to come up here on his own - we kill him.”

He sneered and raised the field glass again.

________________________________________

Buck stood up and walked back to the other side of the wagon. Now that he’d identified the tracks leading away from the attack, there was something about the scene that was bothering him, nagging at the back of his mind.

He stood just behind the wagon, trying to ignore the smoke and the stench. He could recognize the painted symbols on the rifle as Arapaho, and the arrows matched. But the only trouble in the area recently had been from the Sioux after the whites broke yet another treaty. There hadn’t been any reported Arapaho trouble since they had moved to Rock Creek.

He stepped up, looking at the arrow in the first man. He crouched down, touching the shaft gently without moving it. There was something about . . .

A rustling noise behind him sent him spinning to face it, his gun now in his hand. There was some rock cover about thirty yards away, right near the bank of the creek he had crossed a short distance back. He stayed still for a moment, listening, watching, reaching with all his senses to detect any threat. It was silent though, and he told himself it could have just been the breeze in the long grass . . .

No, there it was again - and a low moan accompanying it. It could be a wounded animal, he knew. But then he thought about the unidentified tracks, the struggle, and he knew it could also be the missing owner of those boots.

He moved forward cautiously.

________________________________________

Keller stiffened noticeably as he watched the Indian move toward where they had left the Danworth girl's body. Good tracker or no, what could have led him to be moving so unerringly in the direction of the body?

________________________________________

Buck crouched in front of the rocks. He heard the low moaning sound again, but nothing else. He was almost certain that whether it was the missing woman or a wounded animal, there was no immediate threat of danger to him behind the rocks. Still, he hadn’t been raised to be a fool in situations like this, so he edged cautiously around the final rock, leading with his gun.

As his view of the ground beyond the rocks became clear, he suddenly stopped at what he saw. Just a few feet away, practically right on the riverbank, there was a body - a human body. But as he watched the body moved slightly, and the low moan sounded again. Definitely human this time.

He scanned the area again quickly, but still saw no sign of anyone else in the area. Gun still at the ready, he edged forward.

She was naked, her clothes completely torn away. There was so much blood mixed with mud covering her body that it was hard to tell where the injuries really were. His eyes fixed on her, he stumbled over a boot in his path. He picked it up and glanced quickly at the sole - it was a match for the unidentified tracks he’d seen back by the wagon.

He tossed the boot to one side and moved past, checking the riverbank in both directions for any sign of danger. There were lots of footprints and signs of a scuffle, but nothing leading into the river, or anyplace other than back toward the wagon. Finally convinced that the attackers had all left for the hills, he holstered his gun and went back to kneel by the woman.

He put his hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth of life still there. And then he was startled when her eyes fluttered open. The intensity of the fear in her eyes startled him even further. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quickly. As she started to tremble he asked, “Can you understand me?”

She nodded slightly, and tried to say something, but all that came out was a raspy cough. “I’m going to get my canteen,” Buck said. He started to rise, but was stopped when a bloody hand reached out, weakly grasping his. “I’ll be right back,” he promised gently.

The fingers slipped from his hand and he stood up, then ran toward his horse. He grabbed the canteen and his bedroll then headed back behind the rocks and knelt down again. Cradling her shoulders gently with one arm, he lifted her head enough to hold the water to her lips until she turned her head away.

“Who . . .?” Her voice could barely handle the one word.

“My name is Buck Cross, ma’am. I’m a rider for the Pony Express. I was just on my way back to the Rock Creek station when I found your wagon.”

“Rock Cre . . .”

“Rock Creek,” he finished for her. “That’s the next town down the line.” He slipped the bedroll under her neck and gently lowered her head. “Is that where you were headed?”

This time she just nodded, not trying to speak.

Buck looked down at her again, acutely embarrassed by her lack of clothing now that she was awake. Still, trying to get clothing on her now before he could find and treat the wounds wouldn’t make sense. Stumbling a bit on his words he said, “Ma’am, I need to wash some of the blood off of you so I can find where you’re hurt. I promise I am not going to hurt you.”

Another nod, as tears started to flow down her cheeks.

He grabbed some of the torn clothing and went to the river, soaking the rags with water. Then, as gently as he could, he started the process of cleaning away blood and mud. He began with her face, wincing with her as he uncovered a large gash on the side of her head. It started bleeding profusely again and he stopped to tie a bandage around her head before proceeding.

He worked his way down her body, moving as quickly as he could. The morning sun had already climbed almost to the zenith, and he knew that between her injuries and riding double they wouldn’t make very good time. He figured his best option was to get the wounds cleaned and bandaged, find some clothing for the girl, and then get on the way to Rock Creek. She was bleeding from a lot of wounds, and some of them looked pretty bad. The faster he got her to a doctor, the better her chances would be.

She jerked again as he uncovered yet another wound. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, looking into her pain-filled eyes. “But I’m almost done, and then we’ll be on the way to Rock Creek.” He had no idea how she was going to tolerate the ride with all of the pain she was in already.

She nodded, then swallowed hard and closed her eyes as another wave of pain passed. When she looked up again she whispered, “Thank you for finding me.” The five words set her off coughing, her whole body shaking.

Buck lifted her shoulders, helping her breathe, until the spasms subsided. “Ma’am, it was just pure luck that I found you. I normally wouldn’t have been riding this close to the road.” When you’d been greeted with fear and loathing as often as he had, avoiding fellow travelers generally seemed to be the best way to go.

“But you did,” she whispered, raising her hand weakly to rest it on his.

He stopped for a moment, touched by the gesture. And he considered how he had surprised himself that morning by striking out toward the road. His deviation from his normal course had paid off this time. He didn’t know if the girl would make it to Rock Creek alive, but if she didn’t, she’d at least know someone who cared was with her when she died.

Buck finished washing away the worst of the bloody mess and wrapped a bandage around the last of the wounds that looked serious. It was a good thing he had a lot on his mind, he decided, otherwise he was sure he’d be sick at the sheer brutality of what had been done to the girl.

He tossed the last bloody rag away. “Can you tell me your name?”

“ . . . becca.” She coughed, swallowed a couple of times, then tried again. “Rebecca Danworth.”

He smiled, hoping it looked encouraging. “Rebecca, I’m going to find some clothes for you, then I’ll get you on my horse and we’ll be on the way.” She just nodded wearily, this time making no attempt to stop him as he moved off.

________________________________________

Keller turned toward his partners, anger fuming in his eyes. He glared at Amos directly. “You were the last one with her,” he snarled. “You said she was dead.”

“She is!” But something in Keller’s voice made Amos less sure in his answer.

“Well, if she’s dead, why is the Indian giving her water and cleaning her up?” Keller asked, his anger barely in check. “He didn’t give water to any of the other bodies.”

“Maybe he did see us,” Luke suggested nervously. “He’s trying to fool us.”

“And maybe idiot here didn’t really kill her,” Keller countered.

“I cut her like you said, Stan,” Amos answered, almost whining. He was supposed to be a partner in this business, but he knew well who was really in charge.

“Stan, she was so cut up, even if she’s alive now, there’s no way she’ll survive the trip to Rock Creek,” Luke said.

“Maybe,” Keller muttered, turning back toward the road and lifting the field glass. “Maybe she won’t. But she wasn’t supposed to have survived now either.”

________________________________________

It was hard to find pieces of clothing that hadn’t been ripped to shreds by bullets, arrows, or by the sheer orneriness of the men who had committed the crime. But since he had been on a special, longer run Buck had brought an extra shirt with him, and he eventually pulled the pants off of the man he guessed to be one of the drivers. They were a bit bloodied, but basically whole. The clothing dwarfed the girl’s body, and she moaned horribly in pain with each movement he made to get her dressed, but he finally managed to get her covered. He’d considered just using the blanket from his bedroll, but rejected the idea. The blanket wouldn’t give the girl enough protection from the elements. Besides, riding into Rock Creek with a naked, battered white girl on his horse might not be the best thing for his health either.

Buck finally brought his horse over and, being as gentle as he could, he lifted Rebecca onto the saddle. He could see that she was bleeding again in several places, but there wasn’t much more he could do. He slung the canteen back over the pommel and replaced the bedroll behind the saddle, then swung up behind her.

His own clothing was getting stiff from the blood that had flowed onto him, but there wasn’t time to do anything about that now either. Unless Rebecca took a drastic turn for the worse, he figured his best plan was to just head for Rock Creek and not stop.

________________________________________

Keller stood up, retracting the body of the field glass as he did. “They’re heading toward Rock Creek,” he announced.

“She can’t really be alive,” Amos insisted.

“Well, then the Indian was doing a good job of faking it for her,” Keller replied sarcastically. “I could see her moving.”

Luke stood up and headed for his horse. “Well, I suppose we better go get him.”

Keller thought for a moment, then started to smile. “No, wait,” he said. “I think I got a better idea.”

“Stan, the Danworth girl can identify us,” Luke pointed out.

“If he gets her to town alive,” Keller agreed. “But even if he does, we can still make this work.”

Amos had perked up, very interested in anything that would get him off the hook for not making sure the girl was dead. “What’s your idea?”

“We get to town first and blame the Indian,” Keller answered simply.

Luke shook his head. “But the girl can identify us. How is blaming him going to help?”

Keller was grinning now as his plan formed, and it was not a pleasant sight. “The good folk of Rock Creek are pretty upset over the latest Indian trouble north of here, right?” He got a couple of nods in agreement so he continued. “Well, when they hear there’s more trouble to the west, and to beat all, someone who’s been living right with them was involved, things are apt to get mighty ugly.” He laughed out loud picturing the scene. “If that Marshal is busy tryin’ to protect his Indian friend, he won’t be out looking for us. And if he goes out looking, well, it might not take too much to get the folks in Rock Creek to take care of the Indian, and then Hunter has to deal with that when he gets back. Either way, it clears things out for us.”

“You really think the town will go after the Indian?” Amos asked.

“I heard tell a bunch of them almost lynched the blacksmith a little while back,” Luke said. “And he ain’t even Indian.”

“All it’s gonna take is the right motivation,” Keller added. “Amos, you take those wagon horses with the goods and swing around north of town like we planned,” he instructed. “Luke, you and me are gonna get to town before the Indian. When he shows up with a beaten, bloody white woman, we’ll get things rolling.”

“And what do we do about her?” Luke wanted to know.

Keller shrugged. “We wait ‘til the trouble gets started, then we kill her.”

________________________________________

Jimmy walked into the marshal’s office and plopped down into a chair, kicking his feet up on the desk in an imitation of Teaspoon’s common pose. “So did you miss me?”

Teaspoon looked up from the wanted posters he was sorting and cocked a wary eyebrow at the younger man, then reached over and pushed his boots off the desk. “Ain’t you got no manners?”

Jimmy just grinned. “I’ve been learning from the best lawman around!”

Teaspoon grunted, trying not to smile. “Any trouble on the run?”

“Nope, smooth as anything,” Jimmy answered. “Buck back yet?”

“Ain’t seen him yet.” Teaspoon would have expected the Kiowa rider to be back by now, but it wasn’t really late enough to be worried yet.

Just then Kid came into the office. “Hey, Jimmy. Welcome back!”

“Thanks, Kid. Hope you all managed to not get into too much trouble while I was gone.”

Kid grinned. “We managed just fine. No one got shot - and no one shot anyone else.”

Jimmy grinned back. He really didn’t think he went to the gun quite as much as some people thought he did, but he wouldn’t really feel like he was home if someone wasn’t kidding him about it. He’d learned to laugh with the jokes - most of the time, anyway. “Well for your information, I didn’t shoot anyone on this special run neither.”

Kid staggered backward, acting shocked. “Teaspoon, did you hear that?”

“I did,” the older man answered, getting in on the fun. “Good thing I was sittin’ down, ‘cause I don’t know if my old ticker could’ve stood that otherwise.”

“You are both just too funny,” Jimmy said sarcastically. But he was still grinning.

The sound of hoof beats drew their attention outside, and they watched as two men came riding in fast, stopping in front of Polly’s saloon. Although they were too far away to hear what was being said, the three men could see that a small crowd quickly gathered. And then they saw Polly pushing her way through the crowd, heading toward the marshal’s office.

Teaspoon grabbed his hat and went to the door. “Guess we better see what that’s all about.” Kid and Jimmy nodded in silent agreement and followed him outside.

They met Polly in the middle of the street. “Teaspoon, you better get over there,” she said, looking nervously back at the crowd. “Those men say there was another Indian attack, and some of these people are getting pretty angry.”

Teaspoon shook his head and kept walking. More people joined the crowd as he approached, and he pushed his way through to the front, followed closely by Jimmy and Kid. Everyone seemed to be hanging on the words of the two men who had just ridden in. Teaspoon knew he’d seen them in town before, but he didn’t know their names.

“It was horrible, horrible,” Keller was saying. He noted the Marshal’s arrival out of the corner of his eye and decided the time was right to add some more detail. “Them Indians, they were just wild, killing those poor white folk for no reason.”

“That’s right,” Luke agreed solemnly. “Just wild.” They’d worked on their story on the way into Rock Creek.

Amidst the angry murmuring of the crowd Teaspoon stepped up. “Maybe you better start over and tell me what’s going on,” he said.

“Sure, Marshal, glad to,” Keller said, smiling. He had a good story to tell. “Me and Luke here, we were just riding in toward town when we heard shooting. And being good citizens, of course we went to see if we could help.”

“Of course,” Teaspoon muttered. His instincts were warning him about these two men, just as with Billings earlier in the day.

“Well, we rode up and saw a whole war party attacking this wagon,” Luke said. He nodded earnestly as people reacted in fear.

“And where did you say this was?” Teaspoon asked.

“Out west of town along the main trail,” Keller answered. He shook his head sadly. “It was awful, Marshal. Them savages just killed the men, then burned the wagon.” He stopped, shaking his shoulders as if in terror. “An’ what they did to the women. They had their way, Marshal. It was terrible to see.”

“Where’d you see all this from?” Jimmy asked.

“We was up on a hill just south of the trail,” Luke answered. “We could see real good.”

“But you didn’t try to help,” Jimmy prompted.

“Too many of them savages,” Keller answered. “And it was just the two of us, with just pistols and no extra shot.” They’d carefully sent the rifles and extra ammunition with Amos so their story would be better.

“Could have at least tried to scare them off,” Jimmy insisted.

Something about the whole story wasn’t sitting right with Teaspoon, so he moved now to take control before Jimmy pushed things too far. “You get a good enough look to know which tribe did the attack?”

“Ain’t real sure,” Keller said carefully, trying to read this Marshal and see how he should answer. “Think it might have been Arapaho.” He felt a slight nudge from Luke and he turned his head slightly, noticing the Indian express rider coming into town with the Danworth girl. They’d timed this just about perfectly.

Buck saw the crowd outside of Polly’s and it made him curious. But his first priority was to get the girl into the doctor’s care. She’d fallen unconscious about a half-hour earlier, and between that and the additional bleeding, he was very concerned. So he kept his horse all the way to the other side of the street and kept going to the physician’s office.

“Strangest thing,” Keller was saying. “Most of them savages was dressed in loincloths and war paint. But one of them, seemed like the leader, was dressed in regular clothes, like a white man.”

“Hadn’t heard about any Arapaho problems in the area,” Kid noted quietly.

Teaspoon nodded. He’d been thinking that too, but he needed some more information before deciding what to do. “This man in the white clothes, you’re sure he was Indian?”

“Oh, yes sir, Marshal,” Luke answered, nodding vigorously. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out the field glass. “We saw him real clear.”

“He almost looked familiar,” Keller mused, “like I’d seen him somewhere before.” He paused, making a point of looking down the street to where Buck was just dismounting. Letting his eyes go wide, Keller feigned shock and pointed. “There! There, across the street! That’s the man leading the attack!”

As the crowd turned angrily to look, Teaspoon pushed his way through so he could see - and he stopped dead in his tracks. Keller was pointing right at Buck, who was carrying someone into the doctor’s office.

“Now hold on,” Teaspoon said, raising his voice to be heard over the murmuring crowd. He looked quickly to make sure Jimmy and Kid had seen the same thing and were backing him up. “That there is Buck Cross, one of my Express riders. He is not involved in this.”

Keller shook his head sadly. “I understand how hard it is to believe someone you know would do a thing like this,” he said, trying to sound very sympathetic. “But we seen him real clear.”

The crowd surged forward and Teaspoon moved to stay in front. “Now everyone just hold it,” he demanded. “We’re gonna go talk to Buck, see what’s going on.”

“Nothing to talk about,” someone yelled.

“Always knew that Indian was no good,” another voice added.

“Shoulda scalped him a long time ago,” came from another voice.

As the angry voices rose around him and the crowd surged, Teaspoon pulled his gun and fired one shot into the air. It had the effect of silencing the crowd, at least momentarily. “I said, we’re gonna talk to Buck,” Teaspoon said. “Anyone tries somethin’ else, he’s gonna regret it.” Kid had drawn his gun to Teaspoon’s left, and on his right Hickok stood with his jacket pushed back, hands poised menacingly over his twin Colts.

Teaspoon turned just as the door to the doctor’s office opened and Buck emerged, looking for the source of the gunshot. The Marshal strode quickly in that direction before any of the crowd could move around him.

“What’s going on, Teaspoon? I heard a shot,” Buck said. His eyes roved over the crowd, noting the hatred in the eyes of the people there. And it seemed to be directed at him.

Teaspoon looked at his young friend, noting the blood covering his clothes. That wasn’t going to help Buck with the crowd any. But before he could say anything, Keller pushed forward, his finger pointing at Buck. “That’s the man, Marshal! He’s the one we saw attacking them people!”

Buck’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?” He ducked as something went flying toward his head, banging into the wall behind him. “Teaspoon?”

Teaspoon started to reply, then got distracted as Jimmy drew one gun in a blur of a motion, aiming at a man who had picked up another rock to throw. The man wisely dropped the rock, and then Teaspoon turned back to Buck. “These men,” he said, his distaste evident in his tone, “say there was an attack on the road outside of town. And they’re sayin’ you were part of it.”

Anger flared in Buck’s eyes. “That’s a lie!” He stared out at the hostile crowd, then looked back to Teaspoon. “There was a wagon attacked, Teaspoon. But the attack was already over when I got there. One woman survived, and I just brought her in. She’s hurt bad.”

“Sure, after you had your way with her!” someone yelled.

“Only way you could get a white woman, boy!”

Keller stepped up, trying not to grin. This was going better than he’d thought - this crowd was really angry. “We seen you, boy,” he said, poking his finger at Buck. “We seen what you did to them people, ‘specially that one woman. How could you do them things?” He shook his head sadly, obviously sickened by the tale he was telling.

“That’s a lie!” Buck said again, struggling to keep his anger in check. He knew the situation was dangerous enough already, not just for him, but also for Teaspoon, Jimmy, and Kid. “Why are you lying?”

“Wish we was,” Luke said. “Wish we’d never seen them things you did. How you had that girl’s clothes ripped off, an’ you was forcing yourself on her while she begged . . .”

Buck lunged toward the other man, his control gone. But Jimmy and Kid managed to grab him before he could reach Luke. “That ain’t gonna help,” Kid said quietly, holding Buck’s arm tightly until he felt the Kiowa rider relax a little.

The din from the crowd grew, and angry accusations were flying. As the crowd pushed in closer, Teaspoon stepped in front of Buck. “I think we should go discuss this in my office.”

Buck looked at him in shock. “Teaspoon, you can’t believe . . .”

Teaspoon turned, looking into Buck’s eyes. “Of course I don’t believe you did this,” he said firmly. “But we gotta get you off the street before something happens here.”

“It’s gonna be safer in the jail,” Jimmy said, moving up close on Buck’s right side. His eyes continued to rove over the crowd, and he hadn’t re-holstered the gun.

“Buck, he’s right,” Kid added, standing protectively on Buck’s left.

Buck took a deep breath, then he nodded. With the anger he felt right now, it was probably safer for the crowd if he got out of there. He was about ready to take some of them on with his bare hands.

Teaspoon led the way, walking quickly, as Jimmy and Kid protected Buck from behind. At one point during the short walk something flew up and hit Jimmy in the shoulder and he whirled, drawing his other gun and sending the crowd falling back a step or two. He walked the rest of the way looking backwards, both guns at the ready.

Reaching the jailhouse, Teaspoon pushed Buck and Kid in ahead of him, then stopped Jimmy at the door. “I want you to go back to the doc’s,” he said. “See how the girl’s doing, then come back and let me know. If she’s awake, she’s the best chance for ending this quick and peaceful.” He looked down at the guns still out in Hickok’s hands and added, “And Jimmy, try not to shoot anyone.”

Jimmy never took his eyes off the pulsing crowd. “That’s up to them,” he said coolly, just loud enough to be heard by the first couple of rows. “They behave, I won’t shoot.” Keeping his back to the buildings, he moved off toward the doctor’s office.

Teaspoon moved to go into the jail, only to find himself shoved from behind by some of the men as they tried to crowd into the jail too. Keller pushed his way to the front. “We want to know what you intend to do about this murderer, Marshal,” he demanded, glaring at Buck.

Buck glared right back, and the anger in his eyes caused Keller to take half a step back. Buck’s lips turned up slightly in something resembling a grin as he saw that. He leaned back against the desk, carefully keeping his hands away from his gun and knife. He was still angry, but he had that anger under control - for now.

Teaspoon stepped into the middle. He could still hear the angry murmuring coming from the growing crowd outside. He’d seen this type of thing before, way too often over the years, and he was damned if he was going to let the crowd take over in his town, and with his friend. “I’m going to investigate the crime, that’s what I’m gonna do,” he said, staring the other man in the eye. “And when I find out what happened and who did it, I’ll see he’s punished.”

“You already got who did it,” Keller said loudly, still playing to the crowd. “And we’d be glad to take care of him right now.”

The crowd noise rose in approval, and to one side Teaspoon could see Kid trying to keep Buck calm. “You like to talk so much,” Teaspoon said, his anger barely in control, “why don’t you start by telling me your name.”

“Stan Keller,” the other man replied. “Me and my partner been working a small claim out west of here. Just started about a month ago.”

“I’ve seen you in town before,” Teaspoon observed.

“Well, sure. We been in for supplies.”

“No, don’t think that’s where I seen you,” Teaspoon drawled, purposely going slow. “Think it might have been at the Wild Winds saloon, and you was lookin’ mighty familiar with the owner, what for bein’ new in town and all.”
Keller paused a moment before answering. He knew he needed to play this part carefully. It wouldn’t do for this marshal to go looking too close into the ownership of the saloon and find Keller’s name. “Can’t say as I really know the man, Marshal,” he said, trying to sound friendly. “But I do admit, I like a drink now and then, especially after a long day working the claim. It sure don’t hurt to be friendly with the owner of a bar.” He grinned to reinforce his friendliness.

Teaspoon just nodded, taking his own time. “You come into town today for the saloon, or something else?"

“Well, we needed to pick up a few things,” Keller answered. “And then a few drinks at the saloon before heading back.” He paused and looked down, shaking his head. “Guess I’ll need more than a few drinks to forget what I saw him do!” he finished, raising his voice again and pointing at Buck.
Buck stared at the angry faces and shook his head. “I didn’t do this,” he said evenly, looking from face to face; no one could meet his eyes. “But if I did, why would I bring the woman into town for help? If I was the one who attacked her, she could get me hung.”

“Not if she don’t wake up,” Keller replied quickly. “You know how bad she’s hurt - and you know she won’t make it. So it’s a real smart play, bringing her to town like that. Smarter’n I would have thought a Indian could be. Might make people think you were innocent - except that there’s two honest white men seen you do it!” He raised his voice carefully on that last part, gratified by the new round of protests from his audience.

This time it was Buck who had to restrain Kid from punching the man out.

“Maybe you’d best just go have those drinks now,” Teaspoon suggested. He needed to get this man, and the crowd he attracted, out of the jailhouse so he could talk to Buck.

“Marshal, we’ll be glad to go have a drink,” Luke said, stepping up to stand by Keller. “But we gotta know that you’re not gonna just let the Indian go. I mean, we heard you and him was friends. Wouldn’t want you to let that get in the way of doing your job.”

Teaspoon’s eyes were burning with anger. “I know my job, and I don’t need scum like you tellin’ me how to do it,” he growled, moving forward. Even for those who didn’t know him the tone of his voice was frightening, and the other men fell back toward the door. “Now you all get out of my jail and let me do my job.”

As the men stumbled out into the street, Keller stopped at the door and turned back. “You do your job, Marshal,” he said. “But just you remember, we ain’t gonna let you whitewash the whole thing and let the Indian go. We’ll take care of him ourselves if need be.”

“Get out!” Teaspoon roared, pointing to the street. He took another step forward, gratified to see Keller slip out of the door without more argument. He was just about to slam the door when Jimmy slipped in.

“That is one ugly crowd,” Jimmy remarked as he stepped back to let Teaspoon close the door on the mob. He flinched at the withering glare Teaspoon threw his way, then continued, “Things could get real bad tonight, Teaspoon.”

The older man nodded wearily. “I know,” he said. “Unless you got some good news from Doc?”

Jimmy shook his head. “She’s still alive, but unconscious. Doc’s working on her, but he says he doesn’t know.” He turned toward Buck. “He did say to tell you that was a good job you did bandaging the wounds. It kept her alive this far.”

Buck just shook his head. “A lot of good that does if she doesn’t make it,” he said softly. “You might as well just let that bunch in for me.”

“That is not going to happen,” Teaspoon answered angrily. “Not in my town.” He paused, taking a deep breath. His voice was calmer when he continued. “Buck, why don’t you tell us what happened - everything you can think of.” This whole story from Keller and his partner stank to high heaven, but he needed something to go on to prove that.

Buck shrugged and went back to leaning against the desk. “I was on my way back here, still a couple of hours out of town, and I saw smoke, so I went to check it out. I found a burned out wagon. Looked like a private coach of some sort - and probably a pretty nice one before it burned.”

“Now was it still flaming when you got there, or just smoking?” Teaspoon asked, trying to fix the time of the attack.

“The flames were burned out,” Buck answered. “Just a lot of black smoke.”
“And just the one survivor?” Kid asked.

Buck nodded. “There was one body right with the wagon, and it was pretty burned. Then I found two other men, and two women. They were all dead. I had started looking for tracks when I heard something, and I went to check it out. I found Rebecca then, quite a ways from the wagon.”

“Rebecca? Don’t suppose she gave you a last name,” Teaspoon said.

“Danworth,” Buck replied. “She said they were traveling from near Denver.”

“Danworth,” Teaspoon repeated quietly. “Does seem to me I’ve heard that name, but can’t say as I recall when or where.”

“I didn’t recognize it,” Buck said. “But from the looks of that coach, and the clothing and stuff, I’d say they’ve got some money.”

“I’ll check with Howard Tuttle over to the bank,” Teaspoon said. “If this family is so wealthy, maybe he’ll know something.”

“Well, after I found Rebecca, I knew she was hurt pretty bad.” He stopped and looked down, shaking his head - and his discomfort was real. “It was real bad, Teaspoon. Whoever did it had ripped all her clothes off. She had blood and mud all over. I had to wash a lot of it off before I could even find out where she was hurt.”

“She was conscious then?”

“Yes. She was trying to talk, so I got my canteen. That’s when she told me her name, and I told her who I was, and that I’d try to help. Then I bandaged up her wounds as best I could, found some clothes for her, and brought her here.”

“She say anything else that might help?” Jimmy asked.

Buck shook his head. “Everything I was doing to help was causing her pain. I tried to keep her talking on the ride in, to keep her concentrating on something, but she couldn’t talk much. And then a little ways outside of town she passed out altogether.”

“Buck, you said you were looking for tracks when you heard something and found the girl,” Kid said. “Did you find anything?”

“Three clear sets of tracks heading north into the hills,” Buck answered. “Plus four other sets from some really large horses - I figure probably the wagon horses. They weren’t anywhere around that I could see.”

“Figures they’d take the wagon horses if there was stuff to carry off from the wagons,” Kid observed.

“Everything was ripped open,” Buck said. “Lots of boxes and trunks, everything tossed all over the place. Couldn’t tell you if they actually found anything.”

“Them two said they thought it was Arapaho. You agree?” Teaspoon asked.

“There were Arapaho arrows,” Buck answered. “And an old rifle with Arapaho war symbols on it.” He paused, then added, “But it wasn’t Arapaho who attacked.”

“You sure about that, Buck? You just said you found arrows,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I found the tracks,” Buck answered. “The horses’ hooves had been covered, but those horses were definitely shod. I even found one of the covers that had fallen off.”

“So it’s like those tracks you showed me when we were trying to help Curly,” Kid said.

“Exactly like that, Kid,” Buck agreed. He paused, picturing the scene in his mind. “There was something else too, Teaspoon. About the arrows. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to look, because that’s when I found Rebecca. The arrows didn’t kill any of those people, I’m sure of it. They weren’t in the right places.” He stopped, running his hands through his hair. “It’s hard to explain, but something about the arrows just wasn’t right.”

Teaspoon nodded, taking in all of what Buck had said, and forming his plan of action. “Kid, you go saddle a couple of horses. You an’ me are gonna go out and take a look at this wagon. Stop at the bunkhouse and send Lou and Cody over - an’ leave a note for Noah to get over here soon as he gets back from his run.”

“Right, Teaspoon,” Kid replied, heading out. He reached the door and turned back. “It’ll be all right, Buck.” The look he received from Buck in return did not show any real confidence in that.

Teaspoon reached into the drawer and pulled out a badge. “Hickok, raise your right hand.” Jimmy walked over and Teaspoon raised his hand, intending to swear Jimmy in, but then he stopped and just shook his head. “Oh, hell, you know - just say I do.”

“I do,” Jimmy said dutifully, taking the badge.

Buck took a step forward. “Teaspoon, I should go with . . .”

Teaspoon waved his hand, cutting the younger man off. He sighed, knowing this next part wasn’t going to go well - for either of them. “Buck, I know you want to go out with us. Lord knows, we could probably use your help. But that can’t happen, son. You have to stay here.”

Buck shook his head. “Teaspoon, you can’t believe I had anything to do with this.”

“Of course not!” Teaspoon walked over and put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, looking him in the eye. “Buck, I know there’s no way you were involved. But there’s been a crime, and allegations made, and I have to investigate.”

“It makes me look guilty,” Buck said quietly. “The town already thinks I did it. I need to prove I didn’t.”

“Buck, it’s precisely because the town is up in arms that you have to stay. If I were to take you with us now, lots of people wouldn’t understand, and the mood they’re in, that could get ugly. I don’t want to see you shot, an’ I don’t want me or Kid shot neither.”

Buck turned away, sighing. If it was just his life, he’d argue some more, but he wouldn’t add to the risk Teaspoon and Kid might face. Not looking at either of the other two men in the room, he undid his gun belt then placed it and his knife on the desk. Trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he walked into the cell and slammed the door behind him.

Teaspoon picked up the keys to lock the door, but found he couldn’t move.

Jimmy finally walked over and took the keys, then went to the cell. He winced with Buck as the lock fell into place. “Teaspoon and Kid will find who did this, Buck,” Jimmy said. “‘Til then, this is the safest place for you.”

“It’s not safest for you, Jimmy,” Buck replied softly, turning to face his friend. “They’ll be coming, you know they will.”

“You let me worry about that,” Jimmy answered, pinning on the badge. “They can come, but they ain’t gonna get in.”

Buck just shook his head and slumped down on the cell’s lone bunk, his back to the other two men in the room.

Teaspoon gathered his jacket, a rifle, and some ammunition then walked over and stood just outside the cell. “I know it ain’t easy, Buck. You think I liked it when you and Jimmy left me locked up here and went after Randall?” He got a slight shrug from Buck, but no reply, so he continued. “Son, you’re the best tracker I seen in a long time, but I’ve tracked more’n a few men over the years too. Kid and I’ll find something, don’t you worry.”

“It’s not just that, Teaspoon,” Buck said. “This is putting all of you in danger over me.”

“You heard any of us complaining?” Jimmy asked.

“Maybe you should,” Buck answered.

Jimmy shook his head and started to reply, but just then the door opened as Kid returned, bringing Lou and Cody with him. Kid was dressed to travel, while Lou and Cody came fully armed.

Lou went right over to the cell and stood next to Teaspoon. “How are you doing, Buck?”

“I’ve been better.”

She reached through the bars to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Teaspoon, Kid told us what happened. Do you really think they’ll try to get to Buck?” She could feel his shoulder tense under her hand as she asked the question.

“They might,” Teaspoon admitted. “They was mighty riled up. So they’ll either go drink and settle down, or go drink and get more riled.”

“We can handle it,” Cody said confidently. He checked the load in his rifle, just in case.

“Don’t go lookin’ for no trouble,” Teaspoon warned as he started for the door. “Havin’ three of you here, all armed, should discourage them a little.”

“We left a note for Noah like you said,” Kid added. “He should be in soon.”

“Jimmy, when Noah gets here, you send him over to doc’s, have him watch the girl.”

“You’re thinking someone might try to get at her here in town, aren’t you?” Jimmy asked.

“Yup, stands to reason,” Teaspoon answered. “She knows who done this, and it weren’t Buck, so that’s gotta make someone nervous.”

“See, Buck, this will all work out,” Lou said, trying to sound positive. “She can clear you, soon as she wakes up.”

“If she wakes up,” Buck countered. Then he jumped as Lou hit his arm, hard.

“That’s when,” she insisted.

Buck just rubbed his sore arm and didn’t say anything else.

“Well, Kid, let’s get going,” Teaspoon said. “We’re gonna stop and see Tuttle over at the bank, see if he knows anything about the Danworths. Then we’ll get on out and check the wagon.”

“Ride safe,” Jimmy said as he opened the door for them.

“Always,” Kid answered. He started to smile, but one look at Buck sitting forlornly in the cell changed his mind.

Teaspoon was looking at the lonely rider in the cell himself. He knew exactly how Buck was feeling - but he also knew the young rider was safest where he was. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. And we’ll find who did this.” He turned to Hickok. “Jimmy, just keep him safe here. Don’t take the fight to them.”

Jimmy just nodded, then stood in the doorway, watching as the other two mounted up and rode toward the bank. Then he stepped back inside the jail, but he didn’t close the door just yet. He looked around the street, noting several men loitering in various doorways and alleys, all of them watching the jail. Most of them he recognized from the angry mob that had gathered earlier.

Now he stepped forward, stopping just outside the door to the Marshal’s office. From there he carefully and slowly looked toward each of the watchers, giving in to a small grin as all of them looked away from his gaze. If they wanted to watch the jail that was fine, but he wanted them to know they were being watched too.

Satisfied that he had made his point, Jimmy stepped back inside the building and closed the door.

________________________________________

“The gold’s already here in Rock Creek,” Amos reported softly, watching carefully to make sure that no one else in the Wild Winds was overhearing the conversation.

“What do you mean it’s here?” Keller demanded. He slammed his mug onto the bar, sloshing beer over his hand.

“I was just comin’ in from taking care of the horses,” Amos answered. “I heard the Marshal talking to Tuttle over outside the bank. He said old man Danworth had been sending small amounts in over the last few weeks, on the regular stage and by courier. Rebecca was just coming in to meet the representative from Russell, Majors and Waddell to work out the details for the supply station.”

“Hunter knows who she is,” Billings said, leaning over the bar. “That’s not good, Stan.”

“I know it ain’t good,” Keller answered angrily. He noted a few people looking their way so he lowered his voice before continuing. “The girl must have been awake enough to tell the Indian who she was.”

“Maybe we should just clear out,” Luke suggested. “We got enough from those bank jobs we pulled on the way from Denver to last a while.”

“Just ‘lasting’ ain’t good enough,” Keller replied. “Not when there’s gold in the bank here. And especially when it’s Danworth gold. He owes us.”

Billings cleared his throat nervously. “Stan, you know we couldn’t have delivered on that contract we tried to sell Danworth to deliver supplies for his mining operations.”

“Well, I know that, and you know that. But Danworth didn’t, and he was ready to put up a big gold payment - until you two got drunk and shot off your mouths in front of his foreman.” Keller glared at Amos and Luke. “And the way he run us out, that weren’t right.”

“But Stan,” Amos started cautiously. “That girl could get us hung, so how we gonna deal with her and get the gold out of the bank. ‘Specially when Hunter knows something’s going on?”

“Yeah, you could see in his eyes, he’s real suspicious of us,” Luke agreed.

“Well, he may be suspicious, but he ain’t gonna be able to prove anything,” Keller said. He looked around the saloon, noting small groups of men still muttering together. “It ain’t gonna take much to get these men up in arms again over the Indian, and Hunter isn’t even in town.”

“That Hickok fella’s got a pretty mean reputation, Stan,” Billings pointed out. “You said Hunter left him in charge.”

“He’s a kid,” Keller said, dismissing the argument. “He may be fast on the draw, but he ain’t an experienced lawman. If he’s busy protecting that Indian friend of his, that leaves the bank, and the girl, wide open for us.” He drained his beer and set the mug down, looking around the saloon again. “Bob, you get all the girls down here and get them selling whiskey. We’re gonna get these men good and drunk and angry.”

________________________________________

There was an uneasy silence in the jailhouse. Jimmy still stood near the front windows, watching the watchers. Cody was stationed in the back with the door slightly ajar, watching for any movement out that way. Lou sat near the cell, her hand on Buck’s shoulder. She’d tried making small talk, but Buck hadn’t really been in the mood for chatter. In truth, she wasn’t either. For his part, Buck still sat with his back against the bars, his knees drawn up on the cot.

For the moment, it was quiet outside too. The angry mob had dispersed, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Jimmy knew he had seen most of them head for the Wild Winds.

Footsteps just outside the jail got everyone’s attention and they all watched the door, relieved to see Noah appear. He slid in the door and shut it again, looking around the jail. “I got Kid’s note,” he said. “And Rachel told me some of what’s going on too.” He walked over toward the cell. “How are you doing, Buck?”

Buck shrugged. “Been better, I guess.”

“We’re real glad you’re back, Noah,” Jimmy said. “Rachel told you about the girl Buck brought in?” When Noah nodded, Jimmy continued, “I want you to go over to Doc’s, just be there and watch things. And let us know the minute she wakes up.”

“You’re figuring whoever really did this will try to get at her,” Noah said.
“Stands to reason,” Cody answered. “Don’t think they figured on her bein’ alive now.”

“You should have seen that crowd, Noah,” Lou said softly. “They were really angry. So you be careful over there.”

Noah had walked over to the gun rack and now he checked the sighting on a rifle before grabbing a handful of bullets for the gun. Pointing to the rifle, his pistol, and the whip hanging from his belt he grinned and answered, “Lou, ‘careful’ is my middle name. And I’ve seen those types of crowds before.”

“If it stays quiet I’ll send someone over to stand watch with you,” Jimmy said. “But that crowd was just aching to get after Buck, and once they get drunk . . . well, I figure they might be back.”

“Don’t worry,” Noah assured him. “I’ll take good care of the girl.”

“Rebecca,” Buck said softly. He half-turned to look at Noah. “Her name is Rebecca.”

Noah nodded. “Rebecca,” he repeated. “I won’t let anything happen to her, Buck.” He walked over to the cell and stuck his hand through, watching as Buck hesitated a moment, then reached out and grasped the hand in his own.

“I know you won’t, Noah,” Buck said. “I just don’t know if it’s going to matter, the way she was hurt.”

“She’s going to be fine, Buck,” Lou said firmly. She hoped she sounded more certain than she actually was.

Buck just nodded silently and let go of Noah’s hand. Noah started for the door, then stopped and turned back. Reaching into his vest pocket he pulled out a letter and walked back to the cell. “I almost forgot, Buck. This came for you.”

Buck took the proffered letter and looked at the handwriting, then swallowed hard and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wasn’t sure he could deal with this tonight too.

The others stood watching, but after a minute or so it was clear that Buck didn’t intend to share the letter, or the author’s identity, with any of them just then. Noah nodded to the others then took his leave, heading toward the doctor’s office. Jimmy stood just outside the door for a moment, double-checking the location of the watchers, then he stepped back inside, closing the door. He pulled the shades over the windows and turned down the lamp by the door, making them less of a clear target in the growing darkness.
Lou turned down the wick on the lamp on the desk, then took the lamp over to the cell. “Kind of dark in there,” she said, holding the lamp up to the bars. “You gonna read that?”

For a moment there was silence, then Buck finally reached for the lamp. “Thanks, Lou,” he said, as he placed the lamp on the floor by the cot. Still he made no move to open the letter, instead just sitting with the envelope in his hands, his long fingers running along the edges.

Together they sat in silence as the autumn sun slid below the western horizon and night fell on Rock Creek.

________________________________________

Teaspoon and Kid pushed the horses as hard as they could, eating up as much distance as possible before nightfall would force them to slow down a little. From Buck’s description, they knew they had to be getting close.
Finally, they rounded a bend in the river and topped a small rise - and there it was. They rode slowly down toward the burned-out hulk of the wagon, stopping just outside the perimeter of where the bodies lay. With the horses securely tethered they moved in closer.

Even if Buck hadn’t already reported no life signs, they wouldn’t have bothered to check now. The bodies bore all the obvious signs of death - pale color, bloating, rigidity. Scavengers had already been at work on at least one of the bodies. The stench from the burned body was still strong enough to send both of them reaching for bandanas to cover their faces.

“Kid, you check the other side of the wagon,” Teaspoon instructed. “I’m going down by the river where Buck said he found the Danworth girl.”

Kid just nodded, fighting too hard against gagging to say anything. He moved to the other side of the wagon, glad to be upwind of the scene for a while. He moved slowly, studying the ground carefully, looking for the things Buck had pointed out on other occasions when they had been out looking for someone, or something. And within a few minutes he found the tracks Buck had spoken of, heading almost due north away from the trail. The full moon gave enough light to see the blurred prints of the hooves. Next to one of the deep ruts he found the square of rawhide that Buck had mentioned, and just beyond there was that one clear - shod - hoof print leading away.

“Anything?”

Kid jumped at Teaspoon’s voice; he hadn’t heard the other man approach. “These are the tracks Buck talked about,” he answered. “And I found this.” He held out the rawhide.

Teaspoon took the material and looked down at the tracks. “They were sure trying to hide something, all right.”

“Did you find anything down by the river?” Kid asked.

“Lots of blood,” Teaspoon answered. “And the rags Buck said he used to clean the wounds.” He paused, then added, “Lots of signs of a struggle, but I don’t see any footprints going anywhere except back up here toward the wagon. I’d say they all rode away together.” He, too, looked away toward the north, into the hills.

“I saw all the arrows. Do you think maybe some Arapaho are riding shod horses?”

Teaspoon shook his head. “Imagine that’s possible, but I don’t think so. Remember what Buck said about something not being right about the arrows?” Kid nodded, so Teaspoon continued, “I think I see what he meant.”

He led the way over to one of the bodies and motioned for Kid to take a closer look. “This is an Arapaho arrow, all right - but look at the arrowhead. It’s barely breaking the skin. With the pressure on those bows, a normal shot would bury the shaft in the body a couple of inches. But they’re all like this.”

“You’re saying these arrows weren’t fired from a bow.”

“Yup, that’s what I’m saying.”

Kid looked around at the bodies. “So the arrows were put in after the attack?”

“That’s the way it appears to me,” Teaspoon agreed.

“Which means it wasn’t really Arapaho that attacked.”

“Not very likely.”

“Then Buck was right. It’s just like with Curly - someone wanted to make it look like the Indians did this.”

“Been enough real Indian troubles recently to have people real edgy. Wouldn’t take much to get them really riled.”

Kid shook his head. “Part of it makes sense, Teaspoon. But why blame Buck specifically? I mean, he didn’t actually see who did this, and if those men have spent time in Rock Creek they’d have to know we’d defend him.”

“Well, I got a couple of theories on that,” Teaspoon answered. “First, maybe they weren’t sure whether Buck saw them or not.” He paused, looking around the area again. “You remember where them two said they was when they seen the attack?”

“Sure, they were on a hill south . . .” Kid stopped, looking around himself. “The river is south of the main trail,” he said. “The hills are north.” He looked off into the distance, beyond the river, and shook his head. “Even with a field glass, those hills to the south are too far away.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Teaspoon said. “So one theory is they really were south of here, with no real good cover, and they think Buck might have seen them.”

“But if they really wanted to keep attention off themselves, why not wait until they knew if Buck reported anything definite to you?” Kid countered.

“Good question,” Teaspoon answered. “Maybe it’s as simple as Keller and his partner ain’t as smart as they think. Or . . . maybe they’re smarter than we thought.”

“How would they be smarter?”

“They got us divided. Two of us out here, Noah guarding the girl, leaves only three to guard the jailhouse - and watch the rest of the town. Plus, they got us distracted, worried about Buck. And if they’ve been paying attention at all, they’ll know they got our best tracker locked up.”

Kid started toward where Katy was tethered. “We have to get back to town.” All he could think about was that mob, and Lou . . .

“Now hold on, Kid!” Teaspoon walked over to the younger man. “I know how you feel, and I’d like to get back myself. But we got a job to do out here, and we just have to trust the ones in town to do their jobs.”

Kid hesitated. He understood Teaspoon’s reasoning, but he couldn’t help thinking of Lou back with that angry crowd. Of course, they were at least a couple of hours away from helping anyway, even at best speed. “What are we going to do?”

“Well, I was thinking we could move the bodies in under the wagon,” Teaspoon answered. “Give them a little protection from scavengers ‘til we can get out here and bury them proper. Then we see how far we can follow that trail in the moonlight.” He paused, studying the wrecked trunk by his feet.

“What is it, Teaspoon?”

“I got another theory, Kid,” the older man answered slowly. “Look here how everything’s been torn out and opened up. Keller and whoever was with him, they weren’t just out to find people to rape and kill. They were looking for something specific.”

Both men looked around in silence for a moment, then Kid turned back to Teaspoon. “The gold,” he said. “The gold from the Danworth girl’s father, that the bank manager told us about.”

Teaspoon nodded, the connections all starting to come together for him. “Maybe they didn’t know Danworth had been slipping the gold in a little bit at a time,” he mused. “Might have believed the daughter was bringing it all.”

“It makes sense,” Kid agreed. “That would explain why they tore everything apart.” He paused, then asked, “Teaspoon, if they’re after the gold, shouldn’t we get back to town?”

It took Teaspoon a moment to answer - he was considering that course of action himself. But in the end his earlier arguments won out. “We got no proof of any of this, Kid. We’d best get on the trail and see if we can find some.” He looked off in the direction of Rock Creek, then back at Kid. “Let’s just hope Tuttle didn’t mention the gold to anyone else.”

________________________________________

Rachel walked quickly down the street, mindful of the unfriendly eyes watching her every move. But she kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking at the men watching her, and headed right for the jailhouse. She pushed the door open - and stopped short at the business end of one of Jimmy's guns.

“Sorry, Rachel,” he said, holstering the gun. He took her arm and pulled her all the way inside the office, then looked out the door into the dark streets. “I didn’t know it was you.”

Rachel nodded, grateful to feel her heart still beating after the scare. “You’re really expecting trouble, aren’t you?”

“They’ve been watching ever since we came in here,” Jimmy answered.

“A couple of them out back, too,” Cody added.

Rachel nodded, then lifted the pot she was carrying. “Well, I brought dinner for you.” She walked over to the cell and added, “I made your favorite stew, Buck.”

“I’m not really hungry, Rachel,” Buck said quietly.

Rachel put the pot down and proceeded to rummage through Teaspoon’s collection of plates and flatware - most of which had been accumulated from the waystation supplies at one time or another. “Well, you need to try and eat anyway. You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

“The condemned man’s last meal, before they drag me to the noose?” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and when Rachel jerked back as though he had physically hit her, he felt even worse. Buck shook his head slowly and stood up. “Rachel, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Buck.” She stepped up to the bars and took his hand, using her other hand to brush the hair away from his face. The pain and sadness in his eyes about broke her heart.

Buck tried his best to smile. “It does smell real good, Rachel. I’d love some stew, please.” Actually, his stomach was so tied in knots, he didn’t think he could keep a bite down, but he made up his mind to try.

Rachel returned the smile, squeezed his hand tight, then reached for a plate and started to dish up the stew. “It’ll be all right, Buck,” she said, forcing confidence into her voice. “Teaspoon and Kid will find something.”

Buck just nodded and accepted the plate. It wouldn’t do any good to bring up the sounds of unrest coming from the Wild Winds - shouting, broken glass. There might not be time for the other two men to get back and report anything they found. He sat down on the cot and lifted the fork to his mouth, willing himself not to gag.

Rachel dished up stew for the others then turned back to Buck. “Is there anything else you need, Buck?”

Actually, there was . . . “Is it safe enough out there for you to go to the station and then back here?”

“Of course it is,” she answered confidently. “What do you want?”

Buck looked down at the caked-on blood covering his clothing. “I could really use a change of clothes, Rachel. I gave my extra shirt to Rebecca, but everything else should be in the trunk.”

“Bring one of my shirts,” Jimmy offered.

Rachel smiled and nodded. “I’m taking the rest of the stew over to Noah, then I’ll go get the clothes,” she said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Jimmy walked her to the door and opened it, looking out himself before stepping aside to let her out. “Just be careful, Rachel.”

“They’re not after me, Jimmy,” she answered quietly. She considered mentioning the pistol hidden under her shawl, but decided to keep it a secret for now. “I’ll be fine.”

Jimmy stood in the doorway anyway and watched until she reached the door of the doctor’s office. Then he stepped back inside and closed the door. He picked up his plate and tried to eat, but he wasn’t really hungry either. Looking over to the cell, he figured Buck had maybe managed to eat three or four bites of the stew. On the other hand, Cody was wiping his plate clean with his finger by the back door. Jimmy just had to shake his head - it was hard to find anything to interfere with Cody’s appetite.

Lou had finished about half the stew on her plate and she was busily moving the rest of it around when she heard Buck say her name softly. “What is it, Buck?”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Of course, Buck.” She noticed he had put down the plate and had picked up the mysterious letter again. He’d read it now, but hadn’t shared anything about the author or the contents.

Buck looked at the letter in his hands. It contained the news he’d been waiting for for a long time now, but the timing of its arrival could have been better. He was almost sure of what he needed to do, but it felt uncomfortable. Still, under the circumstances . . . “I need you to get Tompkins to come over here.”

“Tompkins?” Lou wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

“Buck, ain’t we got enough trouble without him?” Cody asked.

“He’s not exactly my favorite person either, Cody,” Buck answered. “But it’s important.”

“Then I’ll get him here,” Lou said as she stood up.

“Don’t tell him it’s for me,” Buck said. He looked around at the three questioning faces of his friends. “You’ll all hear what’s going on. I just don’t want to do it twice.”

Lou grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. “He’s practically here,” she promised.

________________________________________

No good filthy Indian. His kind ain’t never no good. Can’t believe they let him live with white folks. Shoulda run him out of town a long time ago. We can take care of that tonight. I got a long rope. Stinkin’ Indian, messing with a white girl. Gotta teach that boy a lesson, and his Indian-loving friends too . . .
Keller sat back, sipping his beer. The anger surrounding him in the Wild Winds was growing nicely. The whiskey was flowing, the girls were being extra friendly, and every once in a while he or one of his partners would fan the flames a little, maybe dropping another little "detail" about the attack on the wagon, or maybe just cursing “savages” in general.

He knew there were three people guarding the jailhouse, and one guarding the girl. They would be an impediment to his plans, but not really that much to worry about. Four guns against an angry town . . .

________________________________________

Tompkins finished the last entry in the ledger then reached to turn the lamp off. Given the way things sounded outside and down at the saloon, it would be better to be out of the storefront anyway. It would definitely be quieter in his quarters at the back of the building.

A sudden pounding on the door sent him reaching for the rifle he kept under the counter. Now why would they be bothering him? He thought about ignoring the knocking, but the pounding was heavy and persistent, so he decided that probably wouldn’t do any good. He checked the gun to make sure it was loaded then walked slowly toward the door, using the barrel to push the curtains to one side - surprised to see one of the Express riders standing there.

He pulled open the door and growled, “What the hell do you want? You coulda broken the door, pounding like that.”

“Sorry, Mr. Tompkins,” Lou answered, hoping she sounded sincere. For the life of her she couldn’t imagine why Buck would want to talk to this man, especially tonight. But, she had made a promise. “We just need you to come over to the jailhouse, won’t take long.”

They both jumped as the sound of more breaking glass came from the direction of the Wild Winds. "Look,” Tompkins said, “I know what’s going on with that Indian friend of yours. As much as I’ve never cared much for him, I don’t reckon he did what they’re saying. But I ain’t the law, and I don’t want to get involved.”

Lou took a deep breath before answering. It was the “good” people who wouldn’t get involved that led to the dangerous situations like what they were facing tonight. She just kept reminding herself how important it had been to Buck to get Tompkins there. “That’s not why I’m here,” she answered. “Please, it’s real important - and it won’t take long.” She figured that last part was most likely true, because the thought of Buck and Tompkins having a long chat seemed pretty unlikely.

Tompkins stared at his visitor, wondering what in the world was going on. It didn’t seem like he was going to get an answer here. “It’s that Hickok kid, isn’t it? He’s hoping I’ll use my influence to settle things down.”

Lou tried one more time. “Please, Mr. Tompkins. We’re not asking you to get involved in what’s happening here. But it’s real important that you come with me now.”

Tompkins stood and glared for a moment, but it didn’t seem to faze the rider in front of him at all. Finally, with a big sigh, he put the gun down and reached for his jacket. “All right," he said, as he walked out and turned to lock the door behind him. “But I am not getting involved in a fight, and this had better be damned good.”

________________________________________

They had reached the tree line in the hills, and both men knew that following the trail any farther in the dark was going to involve at least as much luck as skill. Teaspoon dismounted and handed the horse’s reins to Kid. “Stay behind me, Kid,” he said as he knelt to inspect something on the ground. “Let’s see what we can find.”

________________________________________

“Here you go, Buck,” Rachel said, handing clean clothing through the bars of the cell. “You get changed, and I’ll get the clothes you’re wearing all cleaned up.”

Buck opened his mouth to say that he might not be needing any more clean clothing after the townspeople got finished that night, but he bit back the words. He’d already hurt Rachel with his harsh words earlier, and he didn’t want to do it again. Instead he took the items from her with a simple, “Thank you, Rachel.” She had brought his other pair of everyday pants, clean long johns, and one of Jimmy’s shirts.

He had to break through some caked-on blood to get a few of the buttons open on his shirt, and one leg of his pants was absolutely stiff with blood, making it hard to get the clothing off. But he was soon down to his long johns - and then he stopped. Stripping down in front of Jimmy and Cody was one thing; they’d spent many hot afternoons cooling off naked in the swimming hole. Rachel wasn’t part of the swimming group though, and with Lou and maybe Tompkins coming back any time . . .

Jimmy saw Buck’s hesitation, and suddenly his friend’s predicament was very clear. He grinned and shook his head, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. “Cody, anything happening out back?”

Cody shook his head. “Still got our two friends watching the place, but they’re not moving.”

“Come up and watch the front,” Jimmy said. He grabbed the keys from the desk and went into the cell, pulling the blanket from the cot. He stretched the fabric out and stood with his back to Rachel and the door, forming a makeshift wall. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Buck answered. “Thanks.” He stripped off the last of his bloody clothing and reached for the pile of clean clothes. He was just pulling on the clean long johns when Cody announced that Lou was back.

Tompkins walked into the jail behind Lou and looked around, then announced in a loud voice, “I don’t know what you want me here for. I’m a busy man, and I got better things to do than play games with you Express riders.”

Buck finished pulling on the clean pants and he stepped around the blanket. “I needed to talk to you, Mr. Tompkins,” he said, pulling the clean undershirt over his head.

Tompkins glared. “Look, we’ve had our differences, Cross,” he said angrily. “Now I don’t figure you did what they’re saying, but that don’t mean we have anything to talk about. If there ain’t nothin’ else, I’m leaving.”

“Mr. Tompkins, please, just a couple of minutes,” Buck said. He reached for the mysterious letter and added, “It’s important.”

Tompkins looked around the room, realizing he wouldn’t find any allies in any of the other four people there. “All right, two minutes. And it better be good.” He crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

Buck held up the letter, took a deep breath, and decided to just say it. “This is from Jenny.”

Tompkins stopped his foot in mid-tap and dropped his arms. “My Jenny?”

Buck nodded. “Your daughter.”

Tompkins’ confusion showed on his face. “Jenny wrote to you?”

“She’s been writing to me since she left Sweetwater,” Buck answered. “She writes on Sundays, after church, almost every week.”

Jimmy had stepped out of the cell and now he re-locked the door and then slid a chair over toward Tompkins. The storekeeper didn’t seem too steady on his feet at the moment.

Tompkins slid gratefully into the chair, still somewhat shocked. He’d had one letter from Sally’s sister saying that Jenny had arrived safely, and then nothing. “Is she . . . is she all right?”

“Yes, she’s fine,” Buck answered. He hesitated before continuing. He’d had the impression before that Jenny had not been writing to her father, at least not with any regularity, and the look on the other man’s face seemed to confirm that. It was going to be interesting to see what kind of reaction his next bit of news got. “She’s coming here to visit next month.”

That got Tompkins’ attention and he looked up. “Jenny is coming here?”

Buck nodded. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you. But with things the way they are, I might not be around when she gets here. So I wanted you to know.”

The news had come as something of a shock to the others in the room as well, but Lou recovered first. “Buck, nothing is going to happen to you tonight,” she said firmly. “You’ll be here when Jenny arrives.”

“You can’t guarantee that, Lou,” Buck answered quietly. “And if that mob does come for me, the best thing you can do is just get out of the way. I don’t want to die knowing I was responsible for any of your deaths too.” He turned back to Tompkins before anyone could argue and held the letter through the cell bars. “You can read the letter, if you’d like. And then I imagine my two minutes are up.”

Tompkins took the letter with a trembling hand. He sat there just looking at it, not making any move to either open it or leave.

________________________________________

Noah walked back into the main examining room after checking all of the doors and windows - again. So far there didn’t seem to be any direct threat aimed at the doctor’s office, but the unrest he could hear emanating from the Wild Winds might spread at any time.

He’d seen those angry mobs up close before. Once the fear and anger started to build up, the tiniest spark could set them off.

“Any change, Doc?” He hadn’t been out of the room for very long, but things could change quickly when people were injured.

Lem Freeman shook his head. “Not really, though she does seem to be sweating less. That may mean the fever is breaking.” He wrung the cold water out of some rags and pressed them against his patient, cooling her fever-wracked body.

“You still don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, Noah, I’ve done all I can.”

“I know, Doc. It’s just, if she could wake up, we might save a lot of trouble.”
“You’re worried about your friend.”

“Buck could never do anything like this,” Noah responded firmly. “But he’s half Kiowa, so people ‘round here aren’t even going to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I don’t know him nearly as well as you do, of course,” Freeman said. “But he’s always seemed like a very nice young man. Just a couple of weeks ago he came along just after I’d gotten my buckboard stuck in a muddy rut on the way out to the Cofers’ place. Burt had sent word in that Sally was in labor. Buck took me out there on his horse, then he went back and fixed my wagon. Had it waiting for me by the time the baby came - wouldn’t take any money for his work, either.”

“No, he wouldn’t be apt to,” Noah agreed.

“You and Mr. Hickok obviously believe the girl’s in danger here.”

“What I know is that Buck didn’t do this, so that means there are some dangerous people out there. And we don’t know who they are, or what they want.”

Freeman turned back to his patient, placing the back of his hand against her cheek. Her skin did feel cooler, at least marginally. “If we can get this fever to break, I think she has a chance.”

“Then tell me what I can do to help,” Noah said, moving over beside the older man. “Because her chance might be Buck’s only chance too.”

________________________________________

Silence had fallen over the jailhouse again. Cody and Jimmy kept their vigils by the doors. Buck was slumped on the cot in his cell again, his back against the bars. Lou sat just outside, her back up against his. And Tompkins hadn’t moved from the chair Jimmy had pushed over to him. He’d been staring at Jenny’s letter for quite some time, but no one was sure whether he had actually read it yet. Rachel had taken Buck’s bloody clothing back to the station for soaking but now she was back, sitting silently off to one side.
Tompkins finally cleared his throat nervously. “This says she’s actually coming to see me,” he said, looking into the cell.

Buck nodded. “That’s right. She wants to try and work things out with you.”

Tompkins nodded in return. “Says here, you talked her into it.” He stopped, shaking his head. “After the way I’ve treated you, why would you do that?”

“Family is important,” Buck said quietly. He swung his feet onto the floor, running his hand through his hair as he considered his words. “I’ll never know the man who fathered me. My mother is dead. Her husband, the man who raised me, is dead. When Red Bear turned me out of the Kiowa camp I knew that, for all practical purposes, my brother was dead to me. Ike and I were as close as brothers for years, but now he’s dead.”

“You have us,” Lou said. She reached through the bars and put her hand on his leg.

“I know, Lou, and that’s real important. But it’s not quite the same.” He squeezed her hand for comfort. “Think about it. What would you give to have your mother here? Wouldn’t you like to have your brother and sister with you?”

She swallowed hard and just nodded.

Buck got up and stood near Tompkins. “I know you don’t like me, and you hate Indians,” he said softly. “But Jenny’s your daughter. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Tompkins sat silently for a moment, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Jenny says something here about you being willing to die for her.”

Buck took a step back, a puzzled look on his face. “Didn’t Jenny tell you what happened with Running Bear and Black Wolf?”

Tompkins shook his head. “I . . . I wasn’t ready to hear it.” He looked up. “I think I’m ready now.”

Buck looked around the room, then back to Tompkins. “You should hear it from Jenny,” he said.

Tompkins finally stood up. “No, I’d like to hear it now.” He paused, struggling with the next word. “Please.”

Buck sighed and sat down again, holding his head in his hands. As if it wasn’t bad enough he was the target of a lynch mob . . .

Rachel got up and walked over to the cell. “Buck, maybe it would help both of you if you tell Mr. Tompkins what happened,” she suggested.

Buck sighed and stared at the ceiling. The pattern of cracks in the plaster was really quite interesting . . . “I went to tell Jenny that her mother had gone back to the Lakota,” he finally said. “Jenny decided to go too, and I went with her. We found the Thurstons on the way, and Jenny recognized Black Wolf’s arrows. When we got to Running Bear’s camp, the Chief was furious that his word had been broken by Black Wolf. But Black Wolf still insisted that Jenny was his, so I challenged him. I said she had come to me for protection. Under Lakota law, we had to fight.”

“A fight to the death,” Cody added. He’d heard the story before, but was still hanging on each word Buck said. He loved a good tale.

“It was supposed to be,” Buck agreed. “We fought, and I finally got him pinned. I had my knife, but he was defeated, and I hesitated.” He paused, shaking his head. “Running Bear stopped the fight then, and awarded Jenny to me. But I said she was free to choose for herself. She was getting ready to leave when Black Wolf got a gun.”

“It was this Black Wolf who shot Sally?” Tompkins asked, brushing a tear from his cheek. He really should have listened to Jen when she tried to tell him about this.

“He was trying to shoot Jenny,” Buck answered. He closed his eyes, picturing the scene as clearly as if he was living it again. “Everything happened so fast. Sally ran out to protect Jenny. I had taken my gun off for the fight, so I only had my knife. I threw it, but I was off balance and throwing with my right hand. I only hit Black Wolf in the shoulder, and he still managed to fire. That’s how Sally got shot.” He stopped, waiting for the explosion he anticipated from Tompkins, blaming him for being too slow.

The storekeeper was silent for a moment, then he surprised them all with his next words. “That’s just what Sally would do,” he said quietly. “Give her own life for her child.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said, almost whispering. “I really thought you knew.”

Tompkins shook his head. “I was too stubborn,” he said finally. “I insisted that Jenny forget about those seven years, and never talk about it. I imagine that’s a big part of the reason she left.”

“She needed to talk,” Buck answered. He knew Jen had said her father didn’t want to hear about her years with the Lakota, but he hadn’t realized that included her mother’s death.

“She talked to you.”

“Yes.”

Tompkins was quiet for a moment, and the silence seemed huge. Finally he said softly, “I was a fool.” He looked around at the others and added, “I don’t imagine that comes as a surprise to any of you.”

Fortunately, even Cody managed to keep from making any comments.

“You have another chance now, Mr. Tompkins,” Rachel said.

“But you need to let her talk,” Buck added. “Jen needs to talk to you about what happened. She’s made a good life in St. Louis, but those seven years will always be a part of her.”

The sound of more smashing glass brought them all alert to the present trouble again. Jimmy opened the front door and stepped out, looking all around, then came back in. “I don’t see anything,” he said. “But it sounded like that came from by the hotel.”

“They’ve had plenty of time to drink,” Cody observed. “Probably starting to feel real brave.”

Buck took a deep breath and turned to Lou. “Lou, the rest of Jenny’s letters are in my trunk. When this is over, if you could give . . .”

“When this is over, you can get the letters yourself,” she replied angrily, cutting him off.

Buck just sighed and leaned back against the wall. He hated feeling so helpless.

________________________________________

Amos stopped just outside the door to Polly’s saloon, surveying the place. Unlike the Wild Winds, things were pretty quiet inside.

Well, he was here to take care of that.

He pushed through the swinging doors and walked to the bar, slapping a coin down. “Whiskey!” As he waited for the drink to be poured he looked around at the people in the saloon. He heard the glass being set on the bar behind him so he reached for his drink and took a sip. “Reckon you folks are gettin’ ready for the hanging later tonight.”

There was a murmuring from the people at the tables, but Polly stepped in quickly. “There’s not going to be a hanging,” she said, her voice even and firm. “And there’ll be no talk of any such thing in my saloon.”

Amos grinned at her and took another sip of whiskey. She was a fine looking woman. “Now, ma’am, I realize this kind of talk might be upsetting to a lady. But we got us a murdering Indian locked up in that jail, and us white folks aren’t safe while him and his kind are around. Best we take care of things right away.” He leaned in close to Polly and added, “I’m sure you done heard what terrible things he did to them women.”

Polly fought the urge to gag from the man’s breath. Pushing him back she replied, “I’m well aware of what’s being said. I’m also well aware that Buck didn’t do any of this, and that we should let the law take its course.”

Amos laughed. “The law? The marshal’s a friend of that murderin’ savage. Ain’t gonna be no law taking care of this.”

Mace Wilkins stepped around from behind the bar. He was the bartender, but standing a little over six feet tall and solidly built, he served other roles for Polly too. Right now, he intended to enforce the peace. “Maybe you should leave, mister.”

Amos lifted his glass. “Now, I bought my drink all legal, and I intend to finish it.” He flashed a smile in Polly’s direction. “Ma’am, don’t you worry your pretty little head over your safety. Me an’ the boys over to the other saloon, we’re gonna take care . . .” He stopped abruptly as Polly’s derringer flashed, and he found the business end pressed against his throat.

“Don’t you worry about my head,” she said, her voice quiet but dangerous. “I’m a lawman’s daughter, and I’ve seen my share of scum like you.” She cocked the tiny pistol. The bullets certainly weren’t large, but at this distance it wouldn’t matter - she could see in the man’s frightened eyes that he knew that too. “Now you listen to me. There’s law in this town, and there’s not going to be any hanging tonight. You get out of my place, and you go tell your ‘boys’ over at the Wild Winds what I said.”

Amos backed up slowly, nodding as he got away from the muzzle of the gun. He kept going toward the door, relaxing a little as he got out of range of the derringer’s accuracy. With a bravado he didn’t quite feel (since his knees were still shaking), he swallowed the rest of the whiskey in his glass and tossed the empty glass onto the nearest table. “We’ll see what happens tonight,” he said, pointing back at the woman who had threatened him. “You’d best just stay off the street, or somethin’ might happen to you too!”

Amos slammed the swinging doors open, stalking out into the street. He kept going around the corner, then stopped and leaned against the wall, trying to get control over the shakes.

That hadn’t gone quite the way Keller had explained the plan.

________________________________________

Following the trail in the dark was a time-consuming process. Teaspoon walked ahead, studying the ground, while Kid handled the horses. They probably would have lost the trail altogether several times if the ground hadn’t been damp from recent rains. The larger wagon horses, with their greater weight, left clear prints here and there, close enough together so that Teaspoon was certain they were still on the right track.

It looked like there was only one rider leading the wagon horses now though. He hadn’t seen where the other two broke off. But as long as they had one clear trail to follow, he hoped they’d be able to find some answers.

________________________________________

Polly carefully pocketed the derringer, still fuming over the idiot she’d just kicked out of the saloon. And even more than that, she was scared - though she certainly wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone like him. But she’d seen angry mobs like this before, too many times, growing up in Texas. She’d watched her father face them down, knowing that life and death hung in a very precarious balance.

She thought about the object of this crowd’s ire and had to shake her head. Buck had spent more time helping her fix up the saloon than any of the other riders. They’d spent long hours talking as they worked - she only wished others in the town would take the time to talk to him, because then they’d know their anger was focused in the wrong place.

And Buck hadn’t drunk nearly his share of free sarsaparilla for all the work he’d done.

“All right, folks, the bar’s closed,” she announced, even though the establishment would normally have been open two hours longer. But she had things to do, and she didn’t want to leave Mace alone if trouble revisited the saloon. She ignored the various protests and spoke over the din. “You all take my advice now. You either go over to the jail and help the deputy keep order, or you go home and stay out of the trouble that’s brewing.” To reinforce her point, she started gathering up glasses from the tables.

As people started to file out, Polly went to the bar and dropped an armload of glasses in front of her bartender. “Mace, think you can close up here by yourself?”

“Sure thing, Polly,” he answered. “What are you going to be doing?”

But Polly was already heading into the storeroom, and she didn’t answer.

________________________________________

We gotta take care of the Indian. Ain’t no LAW gonna do nothing. A rope’s the only thing for the likes of him. Savages ain’t got no right to a trial. Did he give them women a trial? Hanging’s too good for him. I got me a knife too, Ed. We’ll see he gets what’s coming to him . . .

“Bunch of them just went home for their guns,” Billings reported softly, leaning in so that only his partners could hear him. “I think they’re just about ready to go.”

“I agree,” Keller said, smiling. This was going to be the perfect diversion. “Now, everyone knows the plan?”

“Yeah, we wait for the crowd to head for the jail, then you, me, and Billings go to the bank,” Luke said. “Amos goes for the girl.”

“Try to take care of the girl better than you took care of recruiting people from the other saloon,” Keller said sarcastically.

Amos scowled and swallowed nervously. He hadn’t told the others about how Polly held him at gunpoint, but he had had to report his failure in getting anyone else to join the lynch mob. “It was just a few old men in there,” he said, trying to make it a good story. “They wouldn’t of been worth anything in a fight no how.”

Keller just nodded, not voicing his skepticism. “Just see you actually get her dead this time,” he said, then turned to Billings. “Let’s pour another round while we wait for those guns. I think we’re real close.”

________________________________________

Janos Terkovsky put away the last of his tools and untied the heavy leather apron. He walked over to the fire pit, spreading out the last of the coals and making sure there were no hot areas left that could shoot out a spark and start a fire.

He’d actually been planning to work all night, trying to catch up on the backlog of work awaiting him. The harvest was fast approaching, and the local farmers were finding lots of repairs needed to plows and wagon wheels in preparation.

But the tense situation in town had changed his mind about working any later. He’d been hearing the angry sounds from the Wild Winds all night, and just a few minutes ago quite a few men had stumbled out of the saloon, some of them mumbling about getting their guns. That had been the call to action he had been waiting for - and dreading.

He shivered, remembering the time not all that long ago when the people of Rock Creek had almost lynched him. He’d have hoped they would have learned about the dangers of mob action after almost hanging an innocent man, but obviously that wasn’t the case.

Janos turned his attention back to the dying embers, wishing there was as easy a way to extinguish the fire of anger in the townspeople too.

________________________________________

The footsteps outside the jail had them all instantly alert, and they only relaxed after there was a knock and a familiar voice said, “It’s Polly.”

Jimmy opened the door to admit the visitor. He stopped to look around briefly, somewhat puzzled to see that a couple of the watchers had disappeared. He could hope that meant the men had given up and gone home - but the continued ruckus from the Wild Winds made him fear there was more going on.

Rachel stepped forward to help Polly with the heavy basket she was carrying. “Polly, what are you doing here?”

“Well, I got to thinking you all might be getting a little thirsty,” she said. She pulled the cloth off the top of the basket to reveal bottles of sarsaparilla. She took out one bottle and opened it, then walked over to the cell and handed it through the bars. “How are you doing, Buck?” She was a little surprised to see Tompkins sitting there, but she decided not to ask.

He wondered briefly how the people who kept asking him that really expected him to answer. Oh, just great - love waiting around to be hung by a vigilante mob. On the other hand, he knew the people asking actually cared about him, and that made him feel good. “I’m fine, Polly,” he said, taking the bottle. His stomach still didn’t feel like eating or drinking anything was a good idea at all. “Thank you.”

Rachel handed out bottles to the others, and once again only Cody seemed enthusiastic. “Thanks, Polly! I was gettin’ really thirsty.” His drink was empty in a few gulps.

“That was real nice of you, Polly,” Rachel said, sipping her own drink. “But how’d you get away from the saloon?”

“We closed early tonight,” Polly answered. “I told everyone to go home and stay out of trouble.”

“Let’s hope they listen,” Jimmy muttered. Another of the watchers had disappeared, and it was making him nervous. He didn’t want to scare anyone, but he needed to know about the ones out back. “Cody, your guys still out there?”

“Only one,” Cody replied. “Just saw the other head around behind the livery.”

Something was definitely up, and one look around the room at all the faces told Jimmy that they all knew it. He was considering the next move when the sound of gunfire erupted from the direction of the Wild Winds.

“That’s it,” Jimmy said. “I’m going over there.”

“Jimmy, no,” Lou protested. “It’s too dangerous. Make them come to us. We can hold out here, and in a few hours it’ll be light. Maybe Teaspoon and Kid will be back.”

“I’m with Lou,” Cody said. “We shouldn’t divide up any more than we are.”

“You could just open the cell door,” Buck suggested quietly. “They only want me. The rest of you will be safe.”

“That ain’t gonna happen, Buck,” Jimmy answered quickly, shaking his head.
A million arguments raced through Buck’s head, and he tried to find the one that might work, and save his friends from the danger he was putting them in. “Jimmy,” he said, trying to sound calm. “What about this? Cody said there’s only one man left out back. Let me try and make it out that way. If I make it, then Cody or Lou can come, and they’ll know where I go. That way, when this settles down, if there’s a trial they can come get me.”

“That ain’t the way it works, Buck,” Jimmy replied. He snuck another peek out at the street. Now all of the watchers had disappeared.

“I’d never hurt Cody or Lou,” Buck continued, as more shots sounded outside. “You have to know that, Jimmy. And I would come back.”

Jimmy left the open door and took a few long strides toward the cell, ending up face to face with Buck. “Buck, I know you wouldn’t hurt any of us. And I know you’d come back for a trial, even if it meant getting hung by a court instead of by a mob.” He paused, shaking his head. “That ain’t the point. The point is, these people have to learn that there’s law here, and they gotta follow it.”

“I don’t want to die knowing I caused any of your deaths,” Buck said softly.

“If we die, you ain’t the cause,” Lou said, checking her gun.

“Jimmy’s right,” Cody added. “They gotta learn.”

More shots rang out and Jimmy turned toward the door. “I’m going over there,” he said. “Just to talk.” He was checking the loads in his guns as he spoke.

Lou and Cody exchanged nervous glances. “Jimmy, that only leaves us two guns to defend the jail,” Lou pointed out.

Jimmy holstered his pistols and walked over to the desk. He picked up the gun belt and knife laying there and then walked back to the cell, handing the items through the bars to Buck. “Now you still got three guns even if I go,” he said. He turned back to Buck and added, “If they get past me, you take as many of them out as you can.”

Buck just nodded and took the gun and knife. He couldn’t have spoken past the huge knot in his throat.

Jimmy turned back away from the cell. “Rachel, Polly, you should . . .”

“Stay right here,” Polly finished. She reached into the basket again and pulled out a gun. “This was my daddy’s pistol, and it’s held off a few mobs in its time. I don’t claim to be as good as him, but I can handle myself. So you got four guns here.”

“Five,” Rachel said, producing the gun from under her shawl. “That was a good speech about respecting the law, Jimmy.”

Jimmy was shaking his head. “Rachel . . .”

“I’m staying, Jimmy,” she said, her tone indicating no negotiating. “You’ve got five guns here.”

“Six.”

They all looked toward the door, which Jimmy had left ajar. Janos walked in, his old rifle cradled in one arm. He nodded a greeting then looked toward Buck. “When they try to hang me, you rode with Marshal Hunter to stop them. Now I return favor.”

Buck just looked around the room, shaking his head. “You are all crazy.”

“Probably,” Jimmy agreed readily. “Just like you were crazy when you helped stop them from hanging me back in Sweetwater, after Sarah Gainey and her husband framed me for murder. And of course it was perfectly sane for you to ride through a town of bullets to get me out when Muncie was robbing banks, pretending to be me.”

“You didn’t hesitate to go out tracking a known killer like Jarrod Randall after he attacked me,” Polly said. Then she smiled and added, “Besides, anything happens to you, who else is going to go up on the roof of my place and fix things?”

“We’ve been through a lot, Buck,” Cody said. “Can’t think of a time you let us down in a gun fight.” He paused and grinned. “Hell, you even saved me from the revenge of the spirits.”

That even brought a small smile to Buck’s worried face as he recalled the elaborate “ceremony” he’d put Cody through after the other rider took the contents of his medicine pouch. It had been a good learning experience for both of them.

“You’ve always been there when I needed help too, like tracking Roger after he left Daisy with us,” Rachel added. “And whenever Teaspoon needs help.”

“And you’d ride out with Sam before that,” Lou pointed out. “Any time any of us needed help, you were there - even when we didn’t always trust you at first.” She looked around the room, then shrugged and smiled. “Face it, Buck. You’re stuck with us.”

Another round of gunshots sounded, and Jimmy turned toward the door.

Cody stepped up beside him and said, “I still don’t think you should go, Jimmy, but Teaspoon left you in charge, so you do what you think is best. With six guns here, we’ll be fine.”

Jimmy started to answer, but was interrupted when another voice said, “Seven.”

Tompkins had sat silently for the last few minutes, listening and thinking. Now he knew what he had to do. He stood up and pointed to the gun rack behind the desk. “Give me one of those rifles, Hickok. Then you’ve got seven guns here.” He turned and handed Jenny’s letter through the bars back to Buck. “I want this chance with my daughter,” he said quietly. “If you die and she found out I did nothing, I won’t get that chance.”

Jimmy pulled a rifle from the rack and took it to Tompkins, along with a handful of ammunition. Then he went to the door.

Rachel reached out to grab his arm. “Jimmy, this is so dangerous. Are you sure?”

He gently removed her hand from his arm. “I need to know what’s going on, Rachel. What we’re facing. I only want to talk to them. Anything else happens, I won’t be the one who starts it.” Left unsaid was the fact that if anything else did start, he damn well would do his best to finish it.

Jimmy walked out the door, toward the maelstrom in the Wild Winds.

________________________________________

They had followed the trail north through the forested hills, and even managed to reacquire the trail after losing it temporarily in a rocky area. Finding it again had been more luck than tracking skill on his part, but he’d take whatever he could get. Now the tracks turned toward the east.

Teaspoon paused, looking off into the distance. If his hunch was right, the trail would take them right back to Rock Creek.

At least they had moved out of the trees, and in the light of the full moon the tracks were easier to see. He motioned for Kid to move forward and then he set off again, following the tracks.

________________________________________

Another bullet slammed through the chandelier over the gaming tables in the Wild Winds, sending more plaster and wood chips raining down onto the people and furniture below. In the midst of the dust, a cheer went up, followed by more calls to action.

Keller drained the last of his beer and put the mug down. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and grinned. “All they need is one more little push,” he observed.

Luke nodded, grinning himself. “Yeah, they’re ready, Stan.”

Two more shots brought down more dust. “This place is going to need some fixing up,” Keller commented.

Billings leaned over the bar. “Once we have that gold and clear out of this town, it’s someone else’s problem.”

“Very true,” Keller agreed. He turned to the fourth man in the little group at the end of the bar. “Amos, you get over to the doc’s place. Once you hear the crowd out on the street, you take care of the girl.”

“Right,” Amos said. He finished his own beer in a big gulp and headed for the back door.

Billings watched him go, a deep scowl on his face. “You sure he can actually get the job done this time?”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Keller answered, smiling. “Soon as we get this crowd going, we’ll sneak out to the bank. With the explosives we’ve got, we’ll be in and out of the vault in no time. And the ‘law’ will be too busy with the crowd to bother us. Once we have the gold, we take off. If Amos makes it, fine. If he doesn’t . . . well, that’s fine too.”

“We can’t leave him behind,” Luke argued.

“Why not?” Keller countered. “He’s always been the weakest link.”

“But if he doesn’t kill the girl, and she identifies him . . .”

“Then he takes the fall,” Keller answered simply. “Don’t you see how perfect this is? We get the gold, and this crowd creates enough confusion to give us a good head start. If Amos gets caught, we only got a three-way split instead of four.” He paused, then laughed out loud. “Hell, it doesn’t even matter any more if the Indian dies or not. All that matters is that this crowd is going to try.”

Keller leaned in to explain his plan for getting the angry crowd out of the bar and onto the streets of Rock Creek. But all of a sudden a hush fell over the bar and he looked over his shoulder to see the doors swinging, and a lone figure standing tall by the entrance.

Jimmy stood just inside the doors to the saloon, surveying the room and the crowd. The place had gotten quiet since he walked in - maybe too quiet. He saw a lot of men he recognized, and quite a few he didn’t. Most of them had guns, either strapped to their hips or sitting on the tables near them. And most of them looked very drunk.

He stepped forward, careful to keep his hands away from his guns - but still close enough so he could have a gun in his hand within the blink of an eye. He kept his eyes roving over the room as he spoke. “Some of you know me, and some of you don’t,” he said. “I’m Deputy Marshal James Hickok, and I’m ordering this place closed, and all of you to go home.”

“Now, I don’t think you can do that, deputy,” Keller said, swaggering forward. “This here is a private establishment.”

“I can do anything I see fit to ensure peace in this town,” Jimmy answered, automatically sizing the other man up.

“What’s going to bring peace here is to see that Indian hanged for what he did to them poor white folks,” Keller answered, raising his voice to make sure everyone in the bar heard him. He was pleased to hear the murmurs of discontent start up again around him.

“I believe you’re talking about my friend,” Jimmy answered, forcing his temper in check. He kept reminding himself he was here to talk. “He’s in jail because of what you accused him of. That’s what the law says to do, ‘til we find out who really did it.” He stared Keller in the eye, not speaking again until the other man flinched. Letting one side of his mouth turn up in a small smile, Jimmy continued, “The law is taking care of everything, so there’s no need for any ‘help’ from anyone here. Everyone can go home.”

Luke stepped forward, shaking his head. “We seen who attacked that wagon,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sure you do know who did it,” Jimmy agreed, his voice dangerously low. “And we both know it wasn’t Buck.” He looked around the room, daring anyone to meet his gaze. “All of you who live here, you know it wasn’t Buck who did this. For all the times you people have knocked him down, he’s done nothing but help you.”

Jimmy walked toward the nearest tables, picking one person out of the crowd. “Albert, you know Buck wouldn’t do this. Hell, he was willing to take on that gunfighter, Randall, just to protect your brother. ‘Til Marty ran out wavin’ a gun.” He turned to the next table. “And you, Jarvis. What the hell are you doing here? When we first came to town, you wouldn’t even serve Buck or Noah in your restaurant. But from what I hear, you’d be dead if it hadn’t been for them.” Both men turned away, unable to look at him.

He continued his search of the room, picking out guilty faces. “Horace, you remember them rustlers who made off with half your stock? Who tracked them, got your cattle back? And all of you! When you got nervous hearin’ that Elias Mills was in the area, who do you think tracked him to his camp so Teaspoon could arrest him?” Jimmy fought back the wave of guilt he still felt over Mills’ hanging - but this wasn’t the time to deal with that.

He stopped at the next table and leaned down, face to face with an older man sitting there. “Earl, I seen your wagon outside loaded with produce for market tomorrow. Ain’t that the wagon that tipped over on you a month or so back? And wasn’t it Buck who found you, got you out and took you to Doc’s?” He slammed his fist on the table, startling everyone sitting there. “How the hell can you believe that same man would do somethin’ like this?”

Earl suddenly found something very interesting to stare at on the floor. He shook his head slowly, feeling his face flushing with embarrassment. “Well, I don’t . . .”

“What’s that, Earl? You don’t believe Buck did this?” Jimmy pushed back from the table, making no attempt to hide his disgust. “Then what are you doing here with these scum who want to go hang someone - someone you know is a good man!”

“All o’ you better think real hard here.”

________________________________________

“Noah!”

Noah turned away from the window where he had been keeping watch and looked toward the back room. “What is it, Doc?”

Freeman stood in the doorway to the examining room, a smile on his face. “She’s awake,” he announced. “And she’s asking for Buck.”

“That’s great, Doc!” Noah looked back out at the eerily quiet street. “You think you’ll be all right for a few minutes if I go tell the others?”

Freeman walked over to the desk and produced a pistol. “I spend more time trying to save people who’ve been shot than doing the shooting myself,” he said. “But I can use this if I have to.” He paused, then added, “Son, I know Buck’s locked up in jail. But she really wants to see him.”
“Doc, Rebecca can clear this whole mess up,” Noah answered. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get Buck over here.” He studied the street again. “I’m going out the back door, and down the alley. I should be able to get to the jail without running into anyone.”

Freeman nodded. “I’ll follow you back and lock up behind you.”

Noah carefully opened the back door and looked around. Seeing no one out there, he called back over his shoulder, “I’m going, Doc.”

“I’ll be right there to lock up,” Freeman answered. He was just going to check on his patient for a moment first.

Noah slipped out the door and headed up the alley, staying in the shadows of the buildings as he made his way toward the jail.

Amos rounded the corner behind the doctor’s office just in time to see the black Express rider leaving. He grinned - this was going to be even easier. According to the men who had been watching the street, that left only the doctor and the girl inside. He started slowly toward the back door, watching for anyone else who might be around. The mob hadn’t left the Wild Winds yet, so he still had time.

Everyone was on alert in the jail, waiting anxiously - hoping that nothing would happen, but fearing that something bad was coming. Lou had unlocked the cell door, refusing to even think about her friend being caught locked in there if, somehow, the angry mob got past the rest of them. Buck was still sitting on the cot in the cell, one leg drawn up, his gun resting on that knee.

When the knock came at the back door they all jumped, but Noah’s quiet voice calmed everyone quickly, and Cody pulled the door open. Noah slid in quickly and looked at Buck. “Rebecca woke up,” he reported. “She’s asking for you.”

Buck was on his feet immediately, strapping on his gun belt, but Lou stopped him at the door to the cell. “Buck, it’s not safe for you to go out on the street.”

“Lou, I understand that,” Buck answered, hating the delay. “But she can clear this whole thing up, so I need to go.”

Noah was looking around the room. “Where’s Hickok? Teaspoon left him in charge, right?”

“He went over to the Wild Winds - to talk,” Cody replied. “And we ain’t heard any gunshots since he left.”

“Buck, maybe you should wait a few minutes, see if Jimmy comes back,” Rachel suggested.

“Rachel, there may not be a few minutes,” Buck said.

“Perhaps if we all walk over to the doctor’s office together,” Janos suggested.

There was some general murmuring of agreement, but then Polly spoke up. “If they know Buck isn’t here, that makes the doctor’s office the next target. What we need to do is get him over there without anyone else knowing he’s left the jail.”

Buck turned to Noah. “You came the back way. Was there anyone out there?”

“Not that I saw,” Noah answered. “But I can’t be sure.”

“I never saw the second guy leave from out back,” Cody mentioned.

Polly had walked up closer, looking at Buck and then into the cell behind him. She smiled and said, “I think there’s a better way.” She went in and grabbed the blanket from the cot, then went back to Buck. “Put your arms up.”

Buck quickly obeyed - until she started to wrap the blanket around his waist. Then he dropped his arms and backed away. “No, I’m not wearing a skirt!”

“Yes, you are, if you want to go see Rebecca,” Polly insisted. She pushed his arms back up and went back to her task. “This will be perfect. We’ll walk right out the front door, and in the dark, no one will know you’re not still here.” She finished wrapping the blanket and tucked the ends together, then stepped back to inspect the outfitting. Other than a slight bulge over the holster on his left hip, she had to admit it didn’t look half-bad. “Rachel, can we borrow that shawl of yours?”

“Of course,” Rachel said, pulling the shawl from her shoulders. She helped Polly drape the material up over Buck’s head and across his shoulders.

“This is never going to work,” Buck muttered, glaring at Cody, who was snickering at the whole scene. Cody at least had the good sense to turn his back before he started laughing harder.

“No, it’s good,” Lou insisted. She was kind of fighting the urge to laugh herself. “Really, it is. And even with the moonlight, you’ll be mostly in the shadows on this side of the street.” She had to stop talking then because it was taking all her energy to not giggle at Buck’s forlorn look.

Polly picked up the basket she had brought and handed it to Buck. “Now, we just walk out the door, and down the street,” she said. “We’ll make them believe you’re Rachel.”

“I could go with you,” Noah offered, trying to keep a grin off his face. The thought of escorting this “Rachel” down the street was kind of funny . . .

“If you really got here without them seeing you, you’d best stay,” Tompkins said, making his first contribution to their plans. He got a little nervous when all eyes turned toward him, but he added, “Well, if they find out you left doc’s, they might get suspicious.”

“He’s right, Noah,” Lou said. She almost had her giggles under control.

“We’ll be fine, just the two of us,” Polly said. She slid her own pistol into the waistband of her skirt, hidden under her shawl. “Just two women, going to render humanitarian aid.” She grabbed Buck by the arm. “Let’s go.” Buck found himself just following along, still not quite believing this was happening. He clutched his basket tightly, figuring maybe this was really just a dream.

They walked to the door and stopped for a moment as Polly readjusted the shawl around Buck’s face. Then she opened the door and they stepped outside. Turning back, Polly called out in a loud voice, “Rachel and I will be at Doctor Freeman’s then. I’m sure he can use this food and drink after working so hard. You all take good care of Buck!”

Buck found himself moving forward, taking very small steps. The “skirt” was pulling at his legs, forcing him to alter his usual stride. He kept his eyes roving around, looking for any trouble, but the street seemed very quiet. Still, he was walking next to the buildings, and Polly was on the outside. “Polly, you should at least let me walk out by the street,” he suggested quietly. If there was trouble, he’d be in a better position to do something - if the stupid skirt let him move.

“Don’t be silly,” Polly whispered. “We’re just two women, walking down the street. We’re no threat to anyone.”

Buck just raised an eyebrow at that one. After seeing the way Polly took charge of this, he figured she could be quite a threat. But they kept walking, and no trouble appeared.

They reached Freeman’s office and Polly knocked on the door. “Doctor Freeman? It’s Polly . . . and Rachel.” She almost didn’t get the last words out without laughing. Fortunately, she could look off to the side and hide her smile in the darkness - figuring that Buck had had about enough laughter directed his way.

Freeman came out of the examining room at the sound of the voices. He looked toward the back door, realizing he hadn’t locked it yet after Noah’s departure. But the people waiting at the front door won out and he headed that way instead. He unlocked the door and opened it wide. “Why, what brings you ladies out here so late tonight? Still, it’s good to see you, Polly, Rach . . .” He stopped, his mouth open in surprise. “Buck?”

Buck just sighed and removed the doctor’s hand from the door, closing it against prying eyes. It was Polly who explained. “We didn’t want anyone to know Buck wasn’t still in the jail. It’s safer for you and Rebecca that way.”

Freeman was now trying not to laugh. “Yes. Yes, of course,” he managed to say. He put his hand to his mouth, coughing to cover the smile he couldn’t stop. The young Express rider just looked so . . . so . . . lost in his costume. Still, he had to admit, it was a good plan. “Rebecca’s awake,” he said, leading the way to the back room. “She’s asking for you.”

Buck followed sullenly, determined to rid himself of the skirt and shawl as soon as they got away from the windows. But they had only gone a few steps when an armed man suddenly confronted them.

“That’s far enough,” Amos said, holding the cocked pistol aimed at the other three. “Just put your hands up and we’ll all go back here and wait for the fun to start.” He shot a wicked grin at Polly, recognizing her from the saloon earlier. Getting back at the bitch who’d pulled a gun on him would make this even more fun.

Buck kept his face down as he looked carefully from side to side as first the doctor and then Polly obeyed the gunman and raised their hands. He knew that meant Polly’s pistol was useless, and the doctor didn’t appear to be armed. His own gun was trapped beneath the stupid skirt. The only thing he had was the basket . . .

“You too,” Amos said angrily, pointing his gun at the tall woman in the middle. He was rather annoyed that she didn’t seem to be scared enough.

Buck slowly looked up, using one hand to push the shawl back from his face just a little bit. He got the reaction he was hoping for.

“What the . . .” Amos backed up a step in surprise as he recognized the Indian rider. “But you’re in the . . .”

Buck took advantage of the man’s surprise, throwing the basket as hard as he could. It hit Amos right in the chest staggering him. Trying to seize the momentum, Buck took off toward the other man. He got to the second step before he tripped over the skirt and went sprawling.

Amos recovered his balance and brought his gun up again. “Nice try, Indian,” he said, laughing. “Now you can just die there on the floor.” But he had forgotten to keep track of the other two people in the room, and suddenly he cried out in pain as Freeman smashed a tray down on his gun hand, forcing him to drop the pistol. Amos decided to take the safe route. Cradling his injured hand he turned to run.

On the floor, Buck had shed the shawl and was struggling with the blanket. It just didn’t want to let go of him! Out of the corner of his eye he saw the gunman turning to leave, and then he saw Polly heading that way. “Polly, no!” he called out, but she didn’t stop, following the intruder out into the back hallway.

A loud THUD sounded from the hall, and Buck finally managed to free himself from the blanket. He jumped to his feet and raced toward the back, fearing what he might find. If Polly was hurt, Teaspoon would be so angry . . .

He slid around the corner - and stopped short. The intruder was sprawled on the floor, looking dazed. Polly was sitting on top of him, smiling. “One down,” she said brightly.

Buck just nodded. He was feeling a little dazed himself. He felt something being pressed into his hand and looked down to see the doctor handing him a length of cord. He shook his head once to try and clear his thoughts, then walked over and knelt down by Polly. Pulling the downed man’s hands roughly behind his back, Buck wrapped the cord around his wrists, tying him securely. Then he stood up and jerked the man to his feet. “Doc, you got an empty closet or something?”

“Right this way,” Freeman answered, leading the way. He was trying to stay clam, but helping to stop the gunman really had his pulse racing. He didn’t usually get this much excitement. He opened the door to a small closet at the end of the hall. “Will this do?”

Buck took a quick look inside. There wasn’t much in there, just some extra linens - nothing that looked like a potential weapon. “It’ll be just fine,” he answered, shoving the prisoner inside.

Amos looked around, his eyes wide with fear. Those walls were awfully close. “You ain’t really gonna lock me in here?” he whined.

“Yeah, I am,” Buck answered. The man’s answering wail was slightly drowned out as he slammed the door. He turned the key in the lock and then, just for good measure, he picked up a chair and jammed it under the doorknob. “Let’s go see Rebecca,” he suggested.

________________________________________

Jimmy looked around the saloon again, gratified to see quite a change in the crowd’s demeanor. Oh, there were still some angry faces, mostly men he didn’t even recognize. But there were a lot more faces that had lost that anger - several of the men were looking downright embarrassed. Others were just looking sick. If nothing else, he figured he had at least reduced the odds against himself and the defenders at the jail.

He turned back toward the threesome standing at one corner of the bar. That’s where the real trouble lay, and he had no doubt they were still dangerous. The whole plot against Buck had to have been made up as a cover for something - but he still didn’t know what.

Keller met Hickok’s gaze and smiled. “Very touching words about your Indian friend,” he said. “But people can change, you know. Or they can pretend to be one thing, just to hide what they really are.”

“Oh, I know,” Jimmy answered softly. “Like, you pretending to be a concerned citizen.” His voice hardened then as he demanded, “What are you - really?”

Keller’s smile faltered just for a moment. This kid was becoming annoying, not to mention that he was delaying the start of their little plan. They were losing valuable darkness to cover their escape after liberating the gold from the bank. “I’ve got no secrets, deputy,” he answered. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Well, for one thing, I know my friend,” Jimmy answered. “He’d go to the ends of the earth to track scum who’d attack people like that, but he’d never do it himself.”

“He’s an Indian,” Billings said, spitting over his shoulder. “Them savages all have it in them no matter what anyone says.”

“Never seen a good Indian, less’n he was dead,” someone said from the back. But when Jimmy turned his icy stare in that direction, no one else said anything.

“Maybe he just knew the bitch was rich,” Luke suggested. He’d had a whiskey or two too many and was itching to get going. “Them Danworths . . .” He stopped, his mouth open in shock. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough not to realize he’d made a mistake there, and he could feel the heat from the angry glares his partners were shooting his way.

Jimmy allowed himself a small smile. “How’d you know the girl’s name?” he pressed.

“Must’ve heard it from someone,” Luke muttered, inching his hand toward his gun.

Jimmy carefully edged his jacket back, freeing one gun. He certainly didn’t want to be forced to draw in a crowded place like this, but he did want to make sure everyone knew he was ready if it became necessary. “Now that’s real interesting,” he said. “Especially since Buck didn’t tell us her name ‘til after all of you were gone - and we sure didn’t tell you.”

“You know how rumors are, deputy,” Keller said, his smile turning to a sneer. “He’d obviously been planning this for a while, to have his friends there, waiting for the right coach to come along.”

If Jimmy had had any doubts remaining about Keller’s own involvement in the attack, they were resolved right there. “That’s interesting,” he said, his voice soft but dangerous. “You see, Buck was on a special delivery. We both were, left Rock Creek at the same time. And Buck let me choose which of the two routes I wanted to ride. So he didn’t even know he’d be out that way ‘til five minutes before we rode out.”

Keller looked around, seeing doubt on a few more faces. He knew he was losing the crowd, and that just wouldn’t do - they were too close to that gold. “The Indian’s your friend, you said so yourself,” he said. “Figures you’d say anything to help him.” It was a weak argument, but all he had right now to keep the anger up enough to still use the crowd. He slid a bit to one side, turning his hip to better position his own gun. Killing the local law hadn’t been part of the plan before, but things did change. And maybe this would be as good a diversion as anything.

Jimmy slowly backed up a couple of steps, the better to keep his eye on where he knew trouble would be coming from. He was almost in the center of the large open room, right underneath the huge chandelier. “I think maybe we should go talk over at the jail where it’s more private,” he suggested.

“I kind of like it here, deputy,” Keller replied, making sure by the tone of his voice that the title came out as a challenge.

Before Jimmy could reply, they were all distracted by a deep groaning sound that reverberated throughout the saloon. Across the room, men looked around, trying to identify the sound and where it came from. Very quickly the groaning got louder, and it was accompanied by some cracking and snapping.

By the time Jimmy figured out what was happening, it was too late.

The huge chandelier had taken a beating that night from all of the drunken men firing their guns. The base that held it to the ceiling had been hit especially hard, and now the connection was giving way. Jimmy saw it sway perilously, tipping to one side. But before he could even shout a warning, the base gave way, sending the heavy ornament hurtling toward the floor.

Jimmy was directly in its downward path, and only his gunfighter’s reflexes saved him from being pinned fully underneath. He dove to his left, managing to get under one of the gaming tables before the chandelier hit, exploding pieces of wood, brass, and glass all around.

The crash frightened the crowd and they panicked, pushing over each other in their drunken haste to get out of the saloon. Blows were exchanged as they struggled with each other to get out the door.

In the back corner, Keller looked at his partners in surprise, but then he recovered quickly. “That’s it,” he said. “We won’t get a better diversion. Grab the dynamite and let’s go!”

Jimmy saw the three men leave out the back door but he was trapped under the table and the main parts of the chandelier. He tried to move the walls of his prison, but a wave of dizziness made him stop. Either part of the chandelier had hit him in the head, or he’d hit his head when he dived to the floor. He couldn’t remember which, but he had a large bump and a gash on one side of his head.

He sat back, breathing deeply and trying to regain his balance. Maybe if he rested for a couple of minutes the dizziness would ease.

He just really hoped the crowd wasn’t headed for the jail.

________________________________________

Buck sat by the side of the bed, holding Rebecca’s hand. She was still so weak, but she’d been able to answer some of their questions.

She had described in detail the three men that attacked her party. One of them, Buck knew, was locked up in the back closet right now. And the other two sounded suspiciously like the two men who had accused him of the crime.

“All three of them had worked for one of my father’s companies in Colorado,” Rebecca was saying. “They tried to get him to sign a big business deal with them, but daddy was suspicious so he had them investigated. He exposed them as thieves and con men, and ran them out of town.”

“So they might have known it was your coach when they attacked,” Polly commented.

“I know they did,” Rebecca answered. She paused, wondering if she should go on. There was more to the story, but she didn’t really know these people. Still, the man had saved her life, and trusting these folks might be the only way to protect her family’s interests. “They were looking for gold on the wagon.”

“I could tell they were looking for something by the way things were torn up,” Buck said. “Were you carrying a lot of gold?” Knowing how much they were looking for might help them know where to start to find it.

“None,” Rebecca answered. She started coughing, and the doctor was there quickly with water. “Except a little bit of jewelry.” She paused, taking another drink. “Harold McHenry was my father’s accountant. He and I were supposed to meet with someone from Russell, Majors & Waddell to finalize a deal for supply stations.” She stopped, coughing again.

Freeman helped her through the coughing spell, then turned to Buck and Polly. “This is too much for her right now. You can talk more later. I want her to rest now”

Buck nodded and started to get up, but was stopped when Rebecca reached out for his arm. “No. Please, this could be very important.”

Buck looked to the doctor. “Just a few more minutes,” Freeman said.

“I don’t know if those men could have found this out,” Rebecca said. “But my father has already sent a considerable amount of gold to the bank here. He sent a little at a time, instead of trying to ship the whole amount all at once. If they found out . . .”

“A lynching would certainly be a good distraction while someone robbed the bank,” Polly remarked.

“Lynching?” Rebecca looked from face to face, puzzled.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Buck answered gently. “I’ll tell you everything later.” He turned to Polly. “I need to go find Jimmy.”

She shook her head. “Buck, it’s still too dangerous for you out there. I’ll go.”

“No, Polly. I need to do this.”

She looked into his eyes, seeing the quiet resolve reflected there. “You just watch yourself, Buck,” she finally said. Then, trying to lighten the mood a little, she added, “I got more work needs to be done on that roof.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, then he smiled. “I’m going to float away on all that sarsaparilla I’ll be drinking.”

That was when they heard the CRASH from the direction of the Wild Winds, followed by the sound of a crowd running wild on the street.

Buck headed for the door, then looked back. “I’ll try to send someone over to help if I can, Polly.”

“Buck . . .”

“I have to go, Polly.”

She just nodded. At that moment he sounded very much like a stubborn Texan she’d known for over twenty years. “We’ll be fine. You just watch your back.”

Buck had his hand on the doorknob as he nodded and answered, “I will. Make sure you lock up behind me.” Then he turned the knob, opened the door, and stepped out into the melee.

________________________________________

Teaspoon and Kid rode slowly toward their goal. They’d been moving all night and now they were tired, their horses were tired. The sky had clouded over a couple of hours back, and Teaspoon had lost the track he was following. But by then he’d had a pretty good idea where they were going to wind up anyway.

Rock Creek came into view just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

They rode in slowly from the side, not taking the main street. Everything seemed quiet, so Teaspoon decided to check out his theory before heading to the jail. If anything had happened to Buck or the others overnight, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be this quiet.

There was always the possibility they’d find the missing draft horses at the main livery, but Teaspoon had another hunch. There was a small stable out behind the Wild Winds, and if he was going to put money on the question, he’d bet a substantial sum that’s where those horses would be found. He had explained his theory to Kid on the ride in so they wouldn’t have to talk now as they were nearing the target. They left their horses a little ways back and walked in, careful not to make any noise.

With Kid on watch, Teaspoon eased the door to the stable open and slipped inside. It took a moment to adjust his eyes to the dusky light inside, but a whinny coming from a back stall led him on. There was a blanket covering the opening but he pushed it back - and grinned the smile of someone who had just won big.

There were two large horses in the stall, as broad-shouldered as any good wagon horse would be. He went in and gently lifted the right front hoof of first one of the horses, and then the other. The shoe on the second horse confirmed his hunch - he recognized the telltale gouge in the metal that matched the tracks he’d followed last night.

Two more wagon horses were in the next stall. And in the back corner, the final proof he needed. Whoever had been the last one in the stall hadn’t taken time to cover the stash of Arapaho arrows leaning against the wall.

He slipped silently back out of the stable and tapped Kid on the shoulder, motioning for him to follow. When they had gotten back to their horses he said simply, “We got ‘em.”

“What do we do now?” Kid asked.

“First, we’re gonna go make sure everything’s all right at the jail,” Teaspoon answered. “Then we’ll get everyone together and figure out what to do about the Wild Winds.” He took the reins of his horse and started to walk toward the main street. Behind him, Kid followed, leading Katy.

Teaspoon lead the way through the alley, reached the main street, turned to his right - and stopped so short that Kid ran right into him.

“Teaspoon?” When the older man didn’t answer, Kid eased slowly around him, afraid of what he might find. Afraid there might be a body hanging . . .

They both stared in shock at the scene before them. One side of the Wild Winds saloon had collapsed, and there was no more second floor on that side. Outside the hotel there was furniture lying in the street - from the broken windows on the second floor, it looked like it had been thrown down from there. There was a gaping hole in the front of the bank, the edges blackened as though by explosion or fire. The roof over the entrance to the Marshal’s office had collapsed, and broken windows could be seen behind one end. And the whole street was littered with what looked like the remains of someone’s vegetable stew.

Teaspoon closed his eyes and shook his head. He was tired, so maybe he was just seeing things. Slowly he opened one eye again - but nothing had changed. He took a few more steps out into the street just as Buck emerged from the damaged bank building.

“Teaspoon!”

Teaspoon turned toward the voice, then walked slowly toward the bank, shaking his head. Kid looped the reins of the horses over the closest rail and hurried after him. When he caught up, Teaspoon was just standing there, staring at Buck and the gaping hole where the door had been. “Hey, Buck,” Kid said, breaking the silence. “Glad to see you’re all right.”

“Thanks, Kid,” Buck replied, though he never took his eyes off of Teaspoon. The older man still hadn’t moved or said anything.

Teaspoon shook his head - what had they done to the town? Things had certainly changed in the hours since he had ridden out the previous afternoon. “Ain’t you supposed to be in jail?” he finally asked. He had to start somewhere in finding out what had happened, and he was pretty sure Buck had been locked up when he left.

Buck shifted his feet nervously and looked around for Jimmy. He’d figured Teaspoon would be upset, but not so much about his being out of jail. “Well, I was just . . . helping,” he said. “Guard the bank.”

“He’s in my custody,” Jimmy said, coming out to stand by his friend. He’d heard Teaspoon’s voice, and he was a little surprised by the first question too. But the custody explanation should work, he figured.

“Uh huh,” Teaspoon replied, studying both men. They both looked like they’d been rolling in something very unpleasant, but that explanation could wait. “You always have prisoners in your custody wearin’ guns and knives?”

Jimmy looked from Buck, to Kid, and finally to Teaspoon. “Well, Teaspoon . . . it’s Buck!” As far as he was concerned, that was explanation enough.

Teaspoon just glared impatiently at Jimmy, causing the younger man to flinch. “Thank you, Deputy Hickok. I would never have recognized him.” He looked around again at the damage to the town, then he sighed and said, “This is gonna be another one o’ them long stories, ain’t it?”

Buck and Jimmy looked at each other, neither of them really wanting to be the one to explain things to Teaspoon with the mood he was in. Buck finally shrugged and said, “You’re the deputy. I’m just the prisoner.”

Jimmy threw a wicked scowl in Buck’s direction, but the Kiowa rider was studiously looking the other way, so it was a wasted gesture. “We did our best, Teaspoon,” he tried to explain. “Things just got a little . . . confusing.”

“Confusing?” Teaspoon shook his head in wonder. “All you had to do was guard the jail and keep Buck safe for the night. Instead, half the town’s destroyed, and the ‘prisoner’ is guarding the bank that looks like it’s been blowed up. Yeah, I’d say ‘confusing’ is a good word.”

“Is anyone hurt?” Kid asked. He was most concerned about one special ‘anyone’ of course.

“There’s one dead,” Buck said, deciding he better help Deputy Hickok explain. It wasn’t likely that Teaspoon was going to react well to a lot of what they said.

“One of the men who tried to rob the bank,” Jimmy added.

“Luke, something,” Buck finished. “He was one of the two men who said they saw me attack that wagon.”

Teaspoon nodded, taking in the information. Then he looked up at Jimmy. “All this and you only shot one man? I’m impressed.”

Jimmy swallowed nervously and cleared his throat. “I, uh . . . I didn’t shoot him, Teaspoon.”

Teaspoon turned his eyes toward Buck, but the younger man shook his head. “I didn’t shoot him either.” He paused, then decided to just get it out there. “Rachel shot him.”

“Rachel?” Teaspoon shook his head, sure he’d heard wrong. “Rachel shot a bank robber?”

“Well, he was about to shoot Albert,” Jimmy explained.

“Jarvis tried to stop him, but he hit Albert instead,” Buck said.

“Jarvis shot Albert?” Teaspoon sighed. At least the boys had said there was only one dead . . .

“No, he didn’t shoot Albert,” Jimmy said, looking to Buck for help. Things had really gotten out of hand at some point.

“Jarvis threw a pumpkin at Luke - but it came up short and hit Albert instead.” One look at Teaspoon’s face convinced Buck to stop right there. The older man looked ready to explode.

“Hit Albert in the head, knocked him right out,” Jimmy filled in.

“We, uh . . . we made Lou go tell his mother when it was all over,” Buck admitted sheepishly. “What with him just getting shot by Randall and all . . .”

“I understand not wanting to face her!” Kid said. He grinned, but the smile was short-lived as Teaspoon turned to glare at him. Kid turned quickly back to the two men outside the bank. “Lou’s all right, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Jimmy said quickly.

“Lou and Cody are guarding the prisoners, over at Polly’s,” Buck added.

“And how many prisoners would that be?” Teaspoon asked. He hoped his heart could stand the answer. And he’d get back to Rachel in a bit.

“I don’t know, maybe about twenty?” Jimmy answered.

“Yeah, about that,” Buck agreed. “It’s most of the men who were over in the Wild Winds, planning to hang me.”

“I talked some sense into some of them,” Jimmy announced proudly.

“Was that before or after all hell broke loose?” Teaspoon asked.

“Before,” Jimmy answered. “I was tryin’ to stop the trouble from happening.”

Before Teaspoon could answer, they were all startled by a damaged board that blew loose from above what had been the bank’s door. “And it looks like you did a real good job,” he said dryly.

“Teaspoon, this wasn’t my fault!” Jimmy protested. Of course, he maybe could have handled a couple of things differently . . .

“I ain’t sayin’ it was,” Teaspoon answered. He wasn’t saying it yet anyway. There was still a lot of damage unexplained. “But I did ask you to just keep Buck safe in the jail, not go searching the trouble out.”

“You weren’t here, Teaspoon,” Buck said softly. “It was getting real dangerous, for everyone. There was lots of shooting going on at the saloon.”

“I just went to talk, Teaspoon,” Jimmy pleaded. The older man’s approval meant a lot to him. “I didn’t even draw my gun after you left, not until the bank blew up.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good reason,” Teaspoon remarked. There was obviously a lot going on in town, and he was trying to get it all straight. One thing at a time. “So you left Lou and Cody guarding the jail.”

“They had some help,” Buck said.

“That’s right,” Jimmy confirmed. “When I left, there were seven guns guarding the jail.”

“Seven?” Teaspoon scratched his head, wondering who else was going to be involved. “I guess at least you were pretty well protected when all this happened then, Buck.”

Now it was Buck’s turn to be a little nervous. “Well . . . I wasn’t actually in the jail when most all of this happened.”

Teaspoon took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You were locked up when I left, for your own protection. Right?” Buck just nodded, so Teaspoon continued. “And my instructions were for the rest of you to keep him safe there. Right?” Jimmy nodded in agreement this time. “So WHY weren’t you in the jail?”

“Rebecca woke up and was asking for me,” Buck answered.

Teaspoon was staring at Hickok. “So you just let him walk over to doc’s?”

Jimmy threw his hands up. “I was already at the Wild Winds.”

“No one outside of the jail knew I went over there,” Buck said. He was trying to figure out how to keep his "disguise" out of the story.

Teaspoon considered that for a moment. “Well, then, how did you get out of jail?”

“Lou had unlocked the cell door after Jimmy left,” Buck explained. “She didn’t want me getting caught in there, if the mob did come. I mean, I was still in the cell, it just wasn’t locked. But then when Noah came and said Rebecca was awake . . . I had to go, Teaspoon,” Buck finished, hoping it was all clear. “I wasn’t escaping or anything.”

“Polly figured a way to get Buck to doc’s without anyone knowing,” Jimmy said, proud that he was almost keeping a straight face. Buck had finally confessed the story during the wee hours of the morning as they were guarding the bank together, and Jimmy had to admit he found it pretty humorous - he only wished he’d been there to see it himself.

“And someone was over there trying to kill Rebecca!” That would make the jail break sound better, Buck hoped.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you was there then,” Teaspoon admitted. “I’m assumin’ you caught the guy?”

Buck hesitated. He should have known he was going to have to admit it. “Actually, Polly caught the man who was trying to kill Rebecca.”

Teaspoon just stared at them. “Polly? How did Polly get mixed up in all of this?”

“She was one of the seven guns we told you about,” Jimmy offered. “Her, and Rachel.”

“You let Polly and Rachel stay to guard the jail when you left?” Teaspoon’s voice rose, and he could about feel his blood pressure doing the same thing.

“I tried to get them to leave,” Jimmy protested weakly.

“Teaspoon, now you were married to Polly,” Buck said. “You know as well as anyone, when she decides to do something, she’s gonna do it.”

“And Rachel can be pretty stubborn too,” Kid said, trying to help. The withering look he got from Teaspoon made him decide that maybe he’d stop helping.

Teaspoon took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “All right, we’ll come back to that later,” he said. “Now, Polly went with you to doc’s?” Buck nodded, so Teaspoon pushed on. “If’n you was both there, why is it that Polly had to catch the man what tried to kill Rebecca?”

Buck could feel himself blushing, and he hadn’t even said anything. “I tripped . . . overmyskirt,” he said, mumbling the last few words.

Teaspoon blinked hard and shook his head. He couldn’t have heard right. “Did you say you tripped over your skirt?”

Buck just stared at the ground and nodded.

Ignoring Jimmy and Kid, both of whom were struggling not to laugh, Teaspoon demanded, “WHY were you wearing a skirt?”

“It was Polly’s idea,” Buck answered with a sigh. “It was a disguise. She made a skirt out of the blanket from the cot, and I wore Rachel’s shawl to hide my face.” He stared daggers at his two fellow riders who were now about doubled over with laughter at his predicament. “And it worked, Teaspoon! No one knew it was me who went over there with Polly.” In one last-ditch effort to redeem himself, he added, “I did throw the basket at the guy and knock him off balance so Doc Freeman could get the gun away.”

Unfortunately for Buck, the picture of him throwing a basket just made Jimmy and Kid laugh harder.

Teaspoon squeezed his eyes tightly shut and sighed. With any luck, when he opened them again this would all turn out to be a dream. He was very tired after being up all night, and worrying about Buck’s safety. He opened his eyes . . .

It wasn’t a dream.

It was a nightmare.

“Well, leastwise the man’s caught,” Teaspoon said, trying to find the most positive aspect of the whole story. “And I assume Rebecca is all right?”

“Yes, she’s fine,” Buck answered quickly, very relieved to be moving on. “Doc Freeman says she just needs lots of rest to recover.”

“And Polly is all right?” Teaspoon found himself a little bit surprised at how much the answer to this question meant to him.

“Polly wasn’t hurt,” Buck assured him. “She’s still over at doc’s, helping with some of the wounded.”

“Do I dare ask how many wounded there might be?”

“Just a few that needed Doc’s care,” Jimmy answered. His laughter had run its course, for the moment, at least.

“We took Albert over there,” Buck said. “And his ma’s probably still there too.”

“Oh, and Frogger Reed,” Jimmy added. “He was pretty drunk, and I guess after the fighting started, he still wanted to hang someone. Broke into the jail, and went after Cody. Got him in a big bear hug.”

“But Lou hit him with a chair,” Buck explained. “Knocked him right out.”

Teaspoon just nodded. Frogger was an eccentric character, living alone on the swampy edge of a nearby lake, existing mostly on - frogs. But even though he stood near as big as a house, he was basically harmless, and Teaspoon figured he’d be feeling mighty guilty when he sobered up. “All right,” he finally said. “Anyone else hurt?”

“Well, Tompkins,” Buck said. “He got knocked out.”

“He get hit by a pumpkin too?” Teaspoon queried wearily.

Jimmy shook his head. “From what I heard, he was standing in the doorway of the jail when the roof got knocked in.”

“What was Tompkins doing at the jail?” Kid asked.

Jimmy and Buck exchanged a nervous glance before Buck answered. “He volunteered to help.”

“He was one of the seven guns I left there when I went to the saloon - to talk,” Jimmy added.

“Tompkins?” Teaspoon and Kid asked at the same time. “Bill Tompkins was helping to guard Buck?” Teaspoon continued alone.

“He was doing it for Jenny,” Buck explained.

Teaspoon considered that a moment before continuing. So far he had Rachel shooting a bank robber, Polly tackling an intruder, and Lou knocking out a dangerous drunk. Quite a night for the women of Rock Creek. Now Jenny ? “And did Jenny hit anybody?”

“Jenny ain’t here, Teaspoon,” Jimmy answered.

“Not yet, anyway,” Buck clarified.

“Too bad,” Teaspoon muttered. “Seems like the women have been saving you boys all night. Maybe Jenny could have kept the town in one piece.”

“Buck and I stopped the bank from getting robbed,” Jimmy pointed out.

“But not from getting blowed up,” Teaspoon countered.

They didn’t have a ready answer for that one. Buck ran his hand through his hair, thinking about how to explain this part. It had seemed pretty crazy, even then. Explaining it now to Teaspoon was going to be . . . interesting. “Rebecca told me her father had been sending gold to the bank here for a while, and the men who attacked her wagon were looking for it. I was going to go find Jimmy and tell him. But that’s when we heard a crash from the Wild Winds and everyone came running out.”

“The chandelier fell,” Jimmy said. This part of the story he knew with some certainty. “I guess it kind of scared everyone, because that’s when they ran out into the street.”

Teaspoon was picturing the huge chandelier in the Wild Winds. That must have been some sight when it fell. Still . . . “It just fell?”

Jimmy nodded. “Well, there was some creaking and groaning first, and then it just dropped right down.”

“We talked to a few of the men who were in there a while before it fell,” Buck added. “Seems like a lot of them were shooting into the ceiling, aiming at the base.”

“And it finally just gave out,” Jimmy finished.

Teaspoon turned to Buck. “And that’s when you went looking for Jimmy?”

Buck nodded. “I was just getting ready to leave Doc Freeman’s when all of those men wound up out on the street.”

“But I imagine you walked right out there anyway,” Teaspoon said calmly, before raising his voice to add, “Right into the middle of all them what’s trying to kill you?”

“Yes,” Buck admitted. He’d realized it was a little foolish, and risky, at the time. “Teaspoon, Polly offered to go look for Jimmy, but I couldn’t let her do that.”

“Don’t see why not,” Teaspoon muttered. “She’s already been tackling people.”

“Well, I’m not sure why, but most of the people out on the street were already fighting with each other anyway,” Buck said. “I figured they might not even notice me.”

“We’re not sure who started the fight,” Jimmy added. “Maybe someone will remember after they sleep off their hangovers.”

Teaspoon held up his hand, pausing the story there. He was going to try and keep this on one track, even if just briefly. “All right, we’ll come back to that. But if everyone cleared out of the saloon, where were you?”

“I was . . . trapped under the blackjack table,” Jimmy answered. “Teaspoon, I was right under that chandelier when it fell. I almost got hit. I just got under that table at the last second.”

“I was trying to get over there,” Buck said, “since that’s the last place we knew Jimmy went. But it was pretty hard getting across the street with all the fighting.”

“I seen Billings, Keller, and Luke running out the back,” Jimmy added. “But it was a few minutes before I could find a way out from under that chandelier.”

“And I had to stop a couple of times to pull people out of the horse troughs,” Buck said. “They got pushed in during the fight, and as drunk as they were, I figure they would have drowned.”

“So you were savin’ the men who wanted to hang you,” Teaspoon observed, shaking his head. Sometimes the boy was too good for his own good.

Buck shrugged, looking to Jimmy for a little help. “I don’t think they all wanted to hang me,” he said hopefully.

“I had talked some sense into some of them, Teaspoon, really,” Jimmy said. “I reminded them of the things Buck has done to help them, and Rock Creek.”

“Well, that’s good,” Teaspoon admitted, shaking his head in wonder. Jimmy Hickok, working things out with words and not guns - this story was just getting stranger and stranger.

“Anyway,” Buck continued, trying to get onto firmer ground, “I got across toward the bank and I saw Jimmy come out of the Wild Winds, so I called to him. And we almost got to the bank when the front of the building blew out.”

“Anything missing from the bank?” Teaspoon asked.

“Nope,” Jimmy answered, smiling. “Seems like Luke was their demolitions man, but he’d had a little too much to drink. He put the dynamite in wrong.”

“Mr. Tuttle said the vault wasn’t really damaged at all,” Buck added. “He’s sorting through the documents that weren’t in the vault, seeing what got blown up.”

“That’s why we’re guarding the bank,” Jimmy finished.

“But somewhere in here is where Rachel shot Luke?” Teaspoon prodded.

“Keller and Billings were pretty mad at him,” Buck said. “They were yelling when we got to the door.”

“This Luke fella came running out the door just as we got here,” Jimmy explained. “Didn’t see him coming through all the smoke. He about knocked both of us over.”

“By the time I got up and got my gun out, there were too many people in between,” Buck said. “I didn’t have a shot.”

“Specially with the wagon going through just then,” Jimmy added.

Teaspoon just raised an eyebrow at that, hoping it would result in an answer to a question he was just too tired to ask. And right now, he felt like a wagon was careening through his head.

“Earl . . . Earl Wilkes . . . he always brings in fresh produce from his farm to sell after church on Sundays,” Buck explained. “He came in a day early this time to get some other things done in town.”

“His wagon was sitting real close to the bank,” Jimmy picked up. “When the explosion came, the horses spooked and ran off.”

“People and horses dodging each other in the street,” Buck continued. “The horses were real scared, and they swung around too tight. The wagon knocked right into the posts holding up the roof outside the jail. That’s what happened over there.”

“That’s when Tompkins got knocked out,” Jimmy said.

“And Janos got hurt,” Buck added.

“Janos?” Teaspoon asked wearily. This was another new name in the never-ending story. “He get knocked out too?”

“No,” Jimmy answered quickly. “Just got cut on the arm when one of the windows smashed into the jail.”

“He was in the jail too?”

“He came over right before Jimmy left,” Buck explained. “Said since I helped you when people were trying to hang him, he was returning the favor.”

“He was one of them seven guns,” Jimmy clarified.

Teaspoon was counting on his fingers. “So we had Lou, Cody, Rachel, Polly, Tompkins, and Janos,” he said. “That’s six.”

“Well, I gave Buck back his gun before I left,” Jimmy admitted, immediately receiving a glare from the marshal. “Teaspoon, now we knew Buck was innocent, and it’s not like he was gonna shoot any of us!” Jimmy continued. “You would have done the same thing.”

Probably would have, Teaspoon admitted to himself. But he wouldn’t tell the others that. They were still too young and green to be making decisions like that. Things wouldn’t always work out for the good like they apparently had this time. Mostly, anyway.

“Anyway, Luke ran out in the street with his gun out,” Buck continued, trying to get back to something that might get them out of trouble with Teaspoon. “Albert stepped up to try and stop him, and Jarvis tried to help too.”

“That’s when Albert got hit by the pumpkin,” Kid concluded. He’d been quiet for a long time, too stunned by the whole story to have even had anything to say.

“Right,” Jimmy agreed. “But Luke was still aiming at Albert when Rachel came out from behind the knocked down roof in front of the jail.”

“She told him to stop, and put his hands up,” Buck pointed out. “He just laughed and pointed the gun at her.”

“So she shot him,” Jimmy concluded. “It was self defense, Teaspoon. We investigated.”

“Well that just eases my mind immensely,” Teaspoon commented. This story just got more and more incredible. He just shook his head slowly, rubbing his temple.

“Cody came out to help Rachel,” Buck continued. “So Jimmy and I went into the bank.”

“We found Keller and Billings trying to set another dynamite charge,” Jimmy added. “But they didn’t hear us come in, so we got the drop on them. No shooting or anything,” he finished proudly.

“The two of them are locked up in the storeroom at Polly’s,” Buck added.

“No one else was hurt?” Teaspoon asked, hopefully.

“Mainly some bruises,” Jimmy answered. “From the vegetables. And fruits.”

“After the wagon tipped, people started throwing things instead of just fighting,” Buck explained. He absently rubbed one hand over his right side where he figured he was going to have a nice apple-shaped bruise.

“Earl brought in lots of apples, and squash, and corn, plus the pumpkins,” Jimmy said. “It was getting thrown all over the place. Tomatoes too.”

Buck plucked at the tomato-soaked shirt he was wearing, knowing that Jimmy’s shirt was in much the same condition. “I don’t think anyone got hurt from all the tomatoes,” he noted. “They pretty much just . . . splattered.”

By now Kid was laughing so hard he was doubled over, holding his sides. For his part, Teaspoon just stood stock still in the street, staring at the storytellers in disbelief. He finally looked down and put both hands to his head, vigorously rubbing his temples. This was all making his head hurt way too much.

“We broke up the fight after we got the guys trying to rob the bank,” Buck said. He was trying to decide if Teaspoon was angry, or sick - or maybe both.

“Took everyone over to Polly’s,” Jimmy added. “Wouldn’t have been room at the jail, even if the roof hadn’t collapsed out front.”

“Polly had Mace start making lots of strong coffee, get everyone sobered up,” Buck said. “Rachel was helping.”

Teaspoon still hadn’t looked up, but now he asked softly, “What happened to the front wall of the Wild Winds?”

“Near as we can figure, when those men shot out the chandelier, they must have weakened one of the big support beams with all the bullet holes,” Buck answered.

“Some of the men had given up on the hanging idea,” Jimmy said, “and they were upstairs with the girls, doing . . . uh . . .”

“I can guess what they were doing, Hickok,” Teaspoon muttered.

“Well, that whole side of the second floor just crashed down,” Jimmy finished.

“Noah and Janos have been over there, trying to make sure no one’s trapped,” Buck added.

Teaspoon just nodded, rubbing harder at his temples. “And the hotel?”

Buck and Jimmy exchanged worried glances before Buck finally admitted, “We don’t know what happened there. No one we’ve talked to admits to knowing anything about who threw that furniture out of the window.”

“I was gonna ask again, after everyone’s sobered up some,” Jimmy added. “We’ve just been kind of busy.”

Teaspoon finally looked up. “Busy?” He looked around at all the destruction again. “I’d say that’s something of an understatement.”

Jimmy stared down at his boots and took a deep breath. “What do you want us to do now, Teaspoon?” It actually felt good not to have to be the one making the decisions right then.

Teaspoon stared up at Hickok. “You? You stay here and watch the bank ‘til Tuttle’s satisfied,” he said. Turning his glance to Buck he added, “And you, you stay here in ‘custody’ and help.” Finally he turned to Kid and said, “You get over to Polly’s, see if Lou and Cody need any help.” Kid nodded and took off running - relieved to finally be getting to Lou.

Teaspoon turned back to the two men in front of the bank. “I’m going over to the jail,” he announced. “Leastwise, what’s left of it. I need some peace and quiet to think about all of this.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and walked slowly across the street. Over his shoulder he called out, “Try not to demolish anything else.”

Jimmy watched the older man leave, then he pursed his lips and nodded. “Well, I think that went real good,” he declared.

Buck rolled his eyes and stared over at Jimmy with a look that clearly said he didn’t think it had gone well at all. “Good? How would you define bad then?”

“I didn’t have to tell him you were dead,” Jimmy answered sincerely.

“Well, I’m real glad about that too, Jimmy,” Buck replied. “But Teaspoon was only gone a little over twelve hours, and he comes back to a town that’s half wrecked.”

Jimmy looked around. “Not quite half.” He turned to Buck, who was just shaking his head. “We’re gonna be mucking stalls for a long time, ain’t we?”

“Maybe forever,” Buck answered.

Jimmy just nodded, then they both turned to look across the street. They watched as Teaspoon shoved his way past the fallen roof and into the jailhouse.

They were just turning to go back into the bank when there was a CRASH from inside the jail, followed by a string of profanity like neither man had ever heard before.

Neither man spoke for a moment, too stunned by what they were hearing. But then Jimmy finally said, “At least we know he’s alive.”

Buck just nodded. “I guess one of us should go see if he’s hurt.”

Jimmy jumped on that one very quickly. “As the official deputy, I feel it’s my job to stay here and guard the bank with my life,” he announced. “You go.”

Buck hesitated. “I’m officially in custody, Jimmy,” he argued, as more colorful language reached their ears from the jail. “I don’t know if I should be walking around alone.” Facing Teaspoon in this mood seemed much more dangerous than the mob last night.

“I’m releasing you temporarily from custody,” Jimmy replied. “On your own recognition.”

Buck closed his eyes and shook his head. “Recognizance,” he corrected wearily.

Jimmy just shrugged. “Whatever.” He took a half step back after seeing the look on Buck’s face - a look that obviously meant he was going to pay for this later.

Buck sighed and stepped down off the wooden walk, heading slowly across the street. At least the cursing had stopped - but he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He reached the jail, pushed aside part of the roof, and stepped inside.

Teaspoon sat on the floor, the remnants of a shattered chair around him. The scowl on his face stopped Buck dead in his tracks.

“Are you all right, Teaspoon?”

“Do I look like I’m all right?”

The forced calm in the older man’s voice actually made Buck more nervous than if Teaspoon had just yelled. He decided to avoid answering the question directly. “That must be the chair Lou used to hit Frogger.”

Teaspoon clamped his jaw shut and just nodded, holding his hand up for assistance. Buck stepped forward and put his own hand out, pulling the older man to his feet.

Teaspoon dusted himself off and retrieved his hat. He looked around at the broken door, the shattered windows, the wanted posters scattered all over the floor. “Why me, lord?” he pleaded.

Buck took a deep breath and walked over to the cell. “Teaspoon, would it help if I just go back in here?” he asked. The fact that he wasn’t in the cell seemed to be what had started all the trouble after the marshal returned.

Teaspoon took a deep breath of his own. He realized that he might have been a little hard on the boys - but just a little. They’d obviously had a lot to deal with in his absence. But still, THAT much damage? He walked over to Buck and put his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “Son, it ain’t that I want you in jail, and I’m real glad you’re still alive. But you gotta understand, I been up all night tracking them outlaws, only to wind up right back here. And then I find the town literally fallin’ apart. The bank’s blowed up, the saloon’s falling down, the jail looks like a twister hit, and the street looks like somebody’s vegetable patch got tore up by a herd of stampeding buffalo. Can you understand how this might all be just a little much to take?”

Buck wisely just nodded. He was absolutely sure that anything he might say right then would be the exact wrong thing.

Teaspoon nodded himself, taking a deep breath. “Now, I’m gonna take me a little nap,” he said, walking into the cell, “then we’re gonna sit down and go over everything again, from the beginning - and I do mean everything.”

“Sure, Teaspoon.” Buck only hoped he could make more sense of it all later too. And with any luck, Jimmy would have to go first.

Teaspoon sat down on the cot and started to lie down, then he stopped and looked around. “Now where is that blank . . .” He stopped in mid-word and stared at Buck, starting to snicker.

Buck could feel himself blushing. Mucking stalls and hearing about the skirt, that was going to be his life for quite a while, he was sure of it.

Teaspoon pulled his feet up onto the cot and lay back, pushing his hat down over his eyes. Maybe if he didn’t actually see the stricken look on Buck’s face he wouldn’t have to laugh. “I need me some peace and quiet now,” he said. “You go on back to the bank.”

Buck leaned in and picked up his own hat. He’d left it there earlier when it wouldn’t exactly fit underneath the shawl. He took one more look at Teaspoon, but the older man had crossed his hands on his chest and showed no sign of saying anything else, so Buck took that as a cue to leave - quickly, before anything else happened.

Teaspoon heard the boards creak as Buck pushed his way back out past the collapsed roof. He sighed, trying to absorb everything he’d heard.

He started to chuckle as he tried to picture Tompkins swallowing his pride and offering to help Buck. And Cody in Frogger’s bear hug. Jimmy diving away from a falling chandelier. Albert being knocked cold by a pumpkin. A pumpkin! He was downright laughing by the time he tried to picture Buck in a skirt and shawl. And Polly tackling an outlaw.

He wondered if maybe she’d tackle him one of these days . . .

Teaspoon sat up halfway, peeking under his hat to make sure he was alone with that thought. That one was just for him and Polly.

He lay back again, closing his eyes. His head was pounding something fierce, and he definitely needed a couple hours of sleep before he could even think about listening to everyone else’s version of what happened.

________________________________________

Buck paused on the second floor landing at the hotel, trying to calm his nerves. It was two weeks since he’d found Rebecca near death out on the trail, and fortunately her recovery had gone well. He’d helped her move from the doctor’s office to the hotel two days ago while she waited for her father to arrive from Denver. Polly had helped Rebecca draft a letter to her father that first full day after Buck had brought her in, and the Pony Express had carried it westward on the next regular run.

At this moment, Sheldon Danworth was in Rock Creek, having arrived by private coach that morning. And shortly after that one of his aides had shown up at the station with a request for Buck to come to the hotel that afternoon. And now, after a hot bath, a change of clothes, and a long pep talk from Rachel, Buck was almost ready to knock on the door.

He’d expected Danworth would want to talk to him, but he was still nervous. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but when it came to rich, powerful white men dealing with half-breeds, that didn’t always mean much. He knew that from hard experience.

Finally he took a deep breath, wiped the sweaty palms of his hands on the back of his pants, and walked up to the door. He almost kept his hand from shaking as he knocked.

The door was opened almost immediately by a young man, not much older than Buck. His sandy blond hair was cut back in a new style Buck had only seen in an illustration in one of Cody’s books, and he was wearing a suit that Buck figured probably cost more money than he’d ever had in his life. Still, there was a friendly smile on the man’s face as he said, “Mr. Cross?”

“Yes,” Buck replied automatically, reaching out to shake the proffered hand.

“Buck!”

He turned gratefully toward Rebecca’s familiar voice, then stopped short as he saw her for the first time that day. She still had assorted cuts and bruises that were in various stages of healing, but she was no longer wearing the loose shift and battered old robe the doctor had provided as she healed. Instead, she was wearing a stunning blue and white dressing gown with lacy trim; something that had obviously come with her father, since Buck was quite certain Rock Creek’s shops didn’t carry anything even close to the quality. But even though Rebecca was still pale from her ordeal, the gown had the effect of making her look much healthier.

She came toward him, catching his hands in hers and brushing a greeting kiss on his cheek. He was suddenly very self-conscious about the kiss as his eyes found the fourth person in the room.

He was tall, with silver-white hair impeccably trimmed. Wire-rim glasses set off eyes the same color of green as Rebecca’s. He stood ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back, at the window. From the look in the older man’s eyes, Buck knew he was being appraised, and he couldn’t help but wonder how short he’d come up in the other man’s ledger.

Buck decided he couldn’t even begin to guess how much this man’s pinstripe suit might cost. It was simply beyond the realm of his experience.

Rebecca still had Buck’s hands in hers, and now he followed her as she pulled him gently toward the window. “Buck, this is my father, Sheldon Danworth,” she said. “And papa, this is Buck Cross.” She stepped back slightly, leaving the two men across from each other.

For a moment, neither man spoke. Buck forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes, determined not to show the insecurity he felt. And so he was watching those eyes when the twinkle appeared as Sheldon Danworth’s face lit up with a big, genuine smile. “Mr. Cross,” he said, reaching out to shake Buck’s hand. “After everything Rebecca’s told me, it’s a great pleasure to meet you.”

Buck shook hands automatically, his mind racing through the conversations he’d had with Rebecca over the last two weeks. He wondered what, exactly, this ‘everything’ entailed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he managed to say. “I know Rebecca has been looking forward to your arrival.”

“Yes, well, I certainly came as quickly as I could,” Danworth replied, dropping the handshake. “I do have to say, your Pony Express got the message to me very quickly.”

“That’s our job, sir,” Buck replied.

Danworth nodded. “It seems you riders occasionally go above and beyond delivering the mail.” He smiled at his daughter. “I owe you a great deal of thanks for that.”

“It was pure luck I was riding that close to the main trail that day, Mr. Danworth.”

“Maybe so,” Danworth replied. “But in many ways I believe we make our own luck. And whatever the reason, you did find Rebecca, and you saved her life.”

“I did what anyone would have done,” Buck said. He was very uncomfortable under the other man’s praise. And out of habit, he still expected something negative to come up about his Kiowa heritage. Still, Danworth’s friendliness did seem genuine enough.

“Oh, I think it was more than that,” Danworth said. “Unfortunately, I know many people who wouldn’t even cross the street to help someone else, much less risk his own life to tend a stranger’s wounds and then help her across miles of open prairie.”

Buck just nodded. Rock Creek had a few of those people too, though after the incidents two weeks ago he thought that maybe a few of those attitudes might be changing. “I’m just glad I was there,” he said. “And that everything worked out all right.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and the blond haired man opened it, listened for a moment, then turned back toward Danworth. “Mr. Majors is downstairs in the lobby, sir.”

Danworth nodded. “That would be Alexander Majors from your company,” he said to Buck. “Have you ever met him?”

“Yes, once.” Right after their adventures with Ambrose Merriwether, “Bulldog” to his friends.

“What was your impression?”

Buck hesitated, considering his words before answering. He knew he was still being tested. “A good businessman, and fair,” he finally said. “Some of his employees had created a dangerous situation with the Lakota, and he came to Sweetwater to make sure things were set right.”

“Sounds like a good man to do business with,” Danworth remarked as he picked up an attaché case from the chair next to him. He turned to Rebecca and took her hand. “Darling, this won’t take long. Will you be all right?”

“I’m fine, papa.”

“Perhaps Mr. Cross will keep you company for a while.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Buck answered. He’d come to enjoy his daily visits with Rebecca. And maybe he could find out a little more about what she had told her father about him. He was quite convinced that Danworth wasn’t through with him yet.

“Splendid. Oh, and I do have one other favor to ask, Mr. Cross.”

Here it came . . . “Of course. Anything I can do.”

“I was wondering if we could go riding later this afternoon, just the two of us. I’d like to see some of this beautiful country around Rock Creek.”

So that was it, Buck thought. This had all been a show for Danworth’s daughter. But once they were alone, he’d find out what the man really thought of him. Still, it would be good to just get that over with. “I’d be glad to show you around.”

“Excellent! Stewart told me where to find the Pony Express station,” Danworth said, indicating the blond man who had been standing silently by the door. “I’ll meet you there at, say, three o’clock?”

“I’ll have the horses ready,” Buck replied.

Danworth kissed his daughter on the cheek, then nodded to Buck. “I’ll see you later then, Mr. Cross.” Then he left the room, followed by Stewart.

Buck took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as the door closed. When Rebecca touched his arm, he jumped.

“Buck, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he answered, a little too quickly to be convincing.

“I thought we were friends, Buck.”

He turned to look at her, and saw the confusion in her eyes. “We are,” he said, smiling. She deserved an answer, if he could just figure out what it was. “Rebecca, you and your father . . . you’re from a world I can barely imagine. I don’t know how to act in that world.”

“Then don’t act at all, Buck. Just be yourself, that’s what papa’s looking for.”

Be himself? That had certainly gotten him a long way so far in life. “He’s not planning to have me drawn and quartered somewhere along the trail this afternoon when we’re alone?” He smiled, hoping she’d take it as a joke. That was the way he meant it - sort of.

Rebecca smiled in return and took his hand. “If he doesn’t bring you back safe and sound, and in one piece, he’ll have to answer to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I guess it’s just too many times of being judged less than worthy simply because of the color of my skin. Sometimes it gets easier to just avoid the people who do the judging.”

Rebecca’s smile turned sad as she felt the pain behind his words. “Buck, I realize I’m not the most impartial witness,” she said. “But my father is a good man. Don’t get me wrong - he can be ruthless in a business deal, especially if he feels he’s been wronged. I certainly wouldn’t want him as an enemy. All he asks from the people around him though is honesty, and hard work. And in return, he’s incredibly generous and loyal.”

“I guess he’d have to be a pretty good man to deserve a daughter like you,” Buck replied.

Rebecca’s face contorted into a grimace. “I don’t know - I can be a lot of trouble. You should know that as well as anyone!”

“True,” Buck answered, grinning at Rebecca’s feigned look of indignation. She couldn’t keep it up though, and they both laughed.

The laughter felt good, and it relieved some of his tension. He was almost convinced he’d survive the afternoon’s ride.

________________________________________

The afternoon turned out to be sunny and warm, perfect for a ride in the Nebraska countryside. Buck pointed out a few things of interest, and answered the occasional question that Danworth asked, but for the most part they rode in silence. They had ridden for almost two hours when Danworth asked to stop.

Buck looked around, fixing their location, then he pointed to the south. “There should be a creek just the other side of that bluff,” he said. “We can water the horses and take a break there.”

Danworth just nodded so Buck headed in that direction. They topped the bluff and rode down the gentle slope on the other side, toward a gurgling creek that shimmered in the afternoon sunshine.

Buck chose a spot with some trees for shelter from the sun and a low bank to the creek so that the horses would have easy access to the water. Still without speaking the two men dismounted and Buck led both animals to the creek, turning them loose in the fast running flow. He grabbed the canteen from his horse and turned back to the bank where Danworth was waiting.

Danworth stretched his arms back behind him then put his hands behind his hips and twisted his back, trying to work out the aches from the ride. He watched with a bit of envy as his riding partner moved around easily, taking care of the horses and then climbing back up the knoll to where he was waiting. Of course, Cross was much younger, and he made his livelihood riding. Still, it hadn’t really been that long since he’d been able to ride all day, had it? Well, judging from the way his back felt right now, maybe it had. Something cracked as he twisted again, and he grimaced in pain just as Buck got back. “I’m afraid it’s been some time since I could ride all day like you do, Mr. Cross," he said.

“I’m sorry,” Buck answered. “We could have stopped sooner.” To him, it hadn’t seemed like a long ride at all, and the pace had been very slow, so he hadn’t considered that Danworth might be having trouble.

Danworth waved a hand, dismissing the apology. “Not your fault. In case Rebecca didn’t mention it, I can be a very stubborn man on occasion. I wanted to keep riding, even if my back was arguing at times.” He looked around, taking in the view. “It is very beautiful here. I don’t often have time to just stop and appreciate that.”

“That’s why I chose this direction,” Buck answered. “Wide open plains, and it is very peaceful. You can feel the freedom out here.” He held out the canteen.

Danworth nodded, taking the offered canteen. He took a long drink, then handed the canteen back to Buck and eased himself down onto the grass, motioning for Buck to join him. When they were both seated he said, “I really wanted this chance to talk to you alone.”

Buck could feel his shoulders tense and his breathing went shallow. He’d known Danworth wanted more than just a ride in the countryside, and now he was about to find out what. That old voice of experience kept telling him it wouldn’t be good. He took a deep breath and just nodded his agreement.

“My daughter speaks very highly of you,” Danworth began.

Here it came - the speech about staying away from Rebecca. He’d been expecting it. “Your daughter is a very strong woman,” Buck said carefully. “To have survived what she went through, she’d have to be.”

Danworth nodded. “Yes, she’s always been strong. When my wife, her mother, died, Rebecca handled it better than I did. She helped me make it through that dark time.”

That confession took Buck by surprise. He was still expecting the ‘stay away from my daughter’ speech, but why would Danworth admit a weakness to him? “Rebecca told me about her death,” he said. “I’m very sorry about your loss.”

“It was five years ago.” Danworth said. “But sometimes it seems as close as yesterday.” Danworth paused, studying Buck closely. “It’s thanks to you that I didn’t have to face losing my daughter as well. I believe in rewarding those who perform a service for me, Mr. Cross. How much of a reward would you say is fair?”

Buck shook his head. “I didn’t do what I did for a reward.”

“Oh, I understand that,” Danworth agreed quickly. “You didn’t know at the time who it was you were helping. But you do know now, and you know that I’m a wealthy man. You’re entitled to a reward. And I want to be fair. So what would you say? Five thousand? Ten thousand?”

Buck stood up and walked a couple of steps away, then he turned back to Danworth. “I’m not looking for a reward.” He threw the hair back that had blown into his face and added, “There’s only one thing I want.”

“And what is that?”

“Permission to correspond with Rebecca, at least until I know she’s fully recovered.”

Danworth just smiled. “You don’t need my permission for that. I’m sure you already have my daughter’s consent.”

“I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t a problem.”

“Not from me,” Danworth answered. He paused, studying the younger man for a moment. “But back to you, Mr. Cross. Are you secretly so wealthy that you couldn’t use ten thousand dollars . . . or more?” he asked softly. “You don’t even know how high I’d be willing to go.”

Buck looked out over the rolling prairie, considering his words before he answered. Actually, he probably had more savings than any of the other riders. Of course, when stores didn’t want your business and hotels wouldn’t rent you a room, it was easy to save money. Compared to Danworth’s wealth though, it was nothing. “I don’t have a lot of money,” he finally said. “But I have everything I need. A place to sleep, food on the table, a good job . . . and good friends.”

“Then you are a wealthy man after all, Mr. Cross.” Danworth held his hand out, indicating the spot on the grass Buck had just vacated. "Please, sit down again. Let’s discuss something else."

Buck hesitated for a moment, but curiosity was winning out over his earlier trepidation. Whatever he’d been expecting from Danworth, this certainly wasn’t it. He walked over and sat down again, letting his eyes say that he was ready to listen.

“The Pony Express has done a wonderful job of carrying the mail and joining this growing country,” Danworth began. “But you do understand that its days are numbered?”

“Yes,” Buck answered. “The telegraph line between St. Joseph and Sacramento will be completed before the end of the year. Once that’s done, they won’t need us any longer.”

“And what will you do then?”

Buck shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, considered a few things, but nothing has felt right so far.”

“An uncertain future doesn’t worry you?” Danworth probed.

“I’ve faced that before,” Buck replied.

“Well, what would you say about coming to Denver and going to work for me?”

Buck hesitated before answering. This was definitely not the conversation he’d been expecting. As much as it would have annoyed him, the ‘stay away from my daughter’ speech would have at least been easier to understand. He finally shook his head and said, “You don’t owe me a job, Mr. Danworth.”

“Oh, this has nothing to do with being a reward,” Danworth answered. “It’s purely selfish on my part. I need good people working for me.”

“You barely know me.”

“Ah, but Rebecca does,” Danworth answered quickly. “I pride myself in being a good judge of character - I have to be to have gotten as far as I have in business. But in many ways Rebecca is already just as good a judge. Given a few more years of experience, I have no doubt she’ll surpass me.”

“She asked you to give me a job?” That still sounded like a reward.

“She recommended I discuss it with you.” Danworth paused, studying the young man in front of him, waiting to see the reaction to his next statement. “You might also be interested to know that Alexander Majors recommended you as well. He spoke quite highly of your efforts in keeping the peace with the Lakota.”

Buck’s eyebrow went up at that - he hadn’t figured someone like Majors would even remember him. “I didn’t want to see anyone hurt,” he said slowly. “Not the Lakota, and not the Express riders.”

“Commendable.”

Buck took a deep breath and put his head down, running his hands through his hair. When he looked up again he said, “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Danworth. I really do. But I’m not sure I’m really ready to live in a city like Denver. I know I don’t want to work in an office.”

“I have many business interests across a wide area, Mr. Cross. In addition to the banking and retail businesses in Denver and San Francisco, I also own mining and cattle properties spread across hundreds of miles. I need people to keep an eye on things, bring me reports. I also need people to help set up the supply stations I just contracted for."

“Why me?” This was unfamiliar territory, someone actually wanting him as an employee, and Buck wasn’t sure how to deal with it. There still had to be a catch somewhere.

“Why not you?” Danworth countered.

Maybe it was time to just be honest, no matter how much it hurt. “Most people just see the color of my skin, my Indian features, and they never look any farther,” Buck answered softly. “Besides the people who have become my family here with the Pony Express, very few people are willing to look past that.”

“I used to be guilty of that, a long time ago,” the older man admitted softly. Danworth noted the confusion in the younger man’s eyes and he smiled gently. “Then some people I had rejected for surface reasons turned out to be huge assets for my competitors, and I lost out on some major business deals.” His smile broadened. “I may be stubborn, but I’m not stupid.”

“No, sir,” Buck agreed quickly.

“Let me tell you what I know about you, Mr. Cross. I know that you can make a decision, and then take action on it, even if that action puts you in danger. You have a good sense of what’s wrong and what’s right. You’re loyal to your friends, and you inspire great loyalty from them. You’re intelligent, and honest.” Danworth paused, smiling. “Hell, I couldn’t even get you to name a reward you more than earned. If I can’t tempt you with all of my money, it’s going to be pretty hard for anyone else to bribe you.”

Buck realized he was staring open-mouthed at the older man, but he couldn’t help it. It took a moment before he could ask, “Rebecca told you all of this from talking to me?”

“From talking to you - and others,” Danworth replied. “Don’t forget, there were other people recuperating at the doctor’s office. And you were gone for two days on a mail run. I believe you did ask your friends to check in on Rebecca.”

“Obviously, they talked about me.” Buck made a mental note to discuss that fact with certain friends - and others -- later.

“From what I heard, they were all very willing to talk about you. Even those who may not have had the highest opinion of you before were impressed with the way you handled yourself two weeks ago.”

“When they almost hung me.”

“And even then, your concern was more for your friends, and even the town, than for yourself.”

Buck stood up and walked away a few steps, turning his face into the wind. It helped him gather his thoughts - and breathe again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Danworth. This is all a little . . . overwhelming.”

Danworth rose stiffly from the ground and stepped up next to the younger man. “Not exactly what you were expecting from this ride?”

Buck had to laugh. “No, not exactly.”

“What were you expecting?”

Buck looked toward the other man, wondering how he should answer. He finally decided to follow Rebecca’s advice on honesty and said, “I’m not really sure. Probably some form of the ‘stay away from my daughter’ speech. I’ve heard quite a few.”

Danworth smiled. “Rebecca inherited my stubbornness,” he said. “If I tried to tell her to stay away from you, she’d be announcing your engagement tomorrow.”

Buck nodded, having witnessed some of that stubbornness himself over the last two weeks. “That attitude probably helped her survive,” he observed. He shook his head and added, “I don’t understand the world you live in, Mr. Danworth. The money, the power.” He smiled and added, “Your boots probably cost more than I make in a year.”

“You might find our worlds aren’t really so different,” Danworth replied, looking off into the distance. “Money solves some problems, but it also creates others. When you get right down to it, being wealthy almost cost me my daughter.” Then he smiled himself. “And these boots? They pinch my toes. I probably could have spent a lot less and gotten a better fit.”

Buck found himself laughing in spite of himself. “There’s a good boot-maker in Rock Creek,” he offered. “Reasonable prices too.”

Danworth grinned himself. “I may have to check that out,” he said. He looked off to the west and the sun on its downward track. “I imagine we should be heading back. I did ask Mr. Jarvis to prepare a special dinner later tonight.”

Buck nodded. He had more than enough to think about, so heading back to town was fine with him. “I’ll get the horses,” he said, starting toward the creek.

“Just one more thing first, Mr. Cross,” Danworth said. “What will it take for you to say you’ll at least consider the job offer?”

Buck turned back and smiled. “For one thing, you could call me Buck. I don’t know who this ‘Mr. Cross’ is.”

“All right . . . Buck. What else?”

Buck shook his head. “You’ve given me a lot to consider, Mr. Danworth. And I will think about it. I promise.”

“That’s all I can ask for.” Danworth watched as Buck walked toward where the horses were happily grazing, then added, “Oh, and Buck? For what it’s worth, Rebecca assured me you wouldn’t accept a reward.”

________________________________________

Buck turned the corner onto the main street of Rock Creek and walked on slowly. He’d walked around the outskirts of the town twice now, trying to absorb what had happened at dinner earlier that night with the Danworths. But even walking in the crisp night air wasn’t helping much as he attempted to understand.

He was considering saddling up his horse and riding out into the open prairie - that usually helped when he had things to think about. But then he noticed the light shining from the window of the marshal’s office. He knew it must be near midnight, and usually by this time on a quiet night the office was dark, with one of the deputies dozing in a chair or on a cot in an unoccupied cell, a body to summon help in case something did happen. Even tonight, with the jail holding three men awaiting trial for murder and various other crimes, it seemed unusual for someone to have a lamp on so late.

Without consciously thinking about it, Buck headed toward the light. As he got closer, he could see Teaspoon still in the office, hunched over the desk in front of what looked like a pretty big pile of paperwork. He considered walking on by, leaving the older man to whatever task had him so occupied in the middle of the night. On the other hand, if Teaspoon was in a mood to talk, it might help him more than riding out of town with only his horse to talk to. Making his decision, he stepped up onto the boardwalk and opened the door.

Teaspoon glanced up when the door opened. Quickly recognizing his late-night visitor, he returned his attention to the paper in front of him. “Buck. What brings you out so late?”

“I was just walking,” Buck answered, watching Teaspoon study the top page of the pile. The older man obviously had a lot to do. “You’re busy. I should leave you alone.”

Something about Buck’s hesitant tone made Teaspoon glance up and really look at his visitor. It didn’t take long to see the telltale signs that something was bothering the normally calm rider - downcast eyes, restless hands, and the way the younger man was shifting his weight from foot to foot. “No, come on, sit a spell,” he said, scooping a pile of papers off of a chair. “All this figurin’ is giving me a headache anyway.” He pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“What are you working on?”

“Well, I got put on the committee that’s working on the plans to rebuild the parts of the town that got wrecked a couple of weeks ago. This here’s all the prices on what it’s gonna cost to fix things up.”

“Teaspoon, if there’s part of that I should pay for . . .”

Teaspoon fought to hide a grin. “Well now,” he said, rummaging through the papers. “There is the matter of some property belonging to the jail that disappeared. Seems someone at doc’s walked off with that blanket. Now since you was the last one known to have seen it . . .” His voice trailed off as he struggled not to laugh at Buck’s expression.

Buck could feel the warmth of a blush on his face, and he knew he was probably bright red. At least this was the first time he’d been teased about the blanket skirt today, so maybe things were getting better. “If I buy you a new blanket, does that mean I stop hearing about the old one?”

“Not a chance, son,” Teaspoon replied, giving in and laughing. “Not a chance.”

Buck just nodded. Somehow he’d known he wouldn’t get off that easily. At least he and Jimmy had only wound up mucking stalls for a few days, instead of the forever he had feared.

Teaspoon’s expression turned serious as he pulled out the sheet of paper where he’d been doing some figuring. “With what the repairs are gonna cost Rock Creek, puttin’ a blanket on the bill ain’t gonna make much difference,” he said, holding out the page.

Buck took the piece of paper and looked at the rather large figure Teaspoon had come up with for the cost. Still, something didn’t look right. Studying the figures, he sat down on the chair Teaspoon had cleared. After a moment he looked up and smiled. “This total’s not right, Teaspoon.” He held it out and pointed to the final figures. “You carried a two, it should be just one. This is too high.”

Teaspoon grabbed the paper, scowling at the numbers. Muttering to himself and counting on his fingers he re-worked the final total. Finally, after a few minutes of hard concentration, he looked up and smiled. “By golly, you’re right.” He took the pen and crossed out his old number and replaced it with a new one. “That don’t look nearly as bad.”

“It’s still a lot of money,” Buck pointed out.

“Well, the town of Rock Creek confiscated the Wild Winds after Billings and Keller and Feld were arrested. Seems like there’s a buyer interested too. ‘Course, he’s gonna get a good price, what with all the repairs the saloon is gonna need. But what he’s willing to pay will cover a good deal of this bill.” Both men looked over to the cells where the three prisoners were at least pretending to be asleep.

“I could pay the rest,” Buck offered.

Teaspoon just stared at the younger man for a moment, then shook his head. “Buck, in the first place, most o’ the damage came because these people were wantin’ to hang you for something you didn’t do. It ain’t you who owes anything. ‘Sides, you ain’t got that kinda money.”

Buck didn’t answer right away. His hand strayed to the inside pocket of his jacket and he fingered the bankbook there. It still felt physically real, even though he hadn’t fully accepted the non-physical reality of the balance shown in the book yet. He pulled it out, running his finger over where his name was printed on the front. “Actually,” he said, slowly and softly, “I do.” He reached out, holding the document toward the older man.

Teaspoon reached out and took the paper from Buck’s hand, studying the mixture of confusion and sadness in Buck’s eyes. He looked down, noting Buck’s name on the front of the book, then he opened it and looked at the balance . . .

He looked again, re-counting the zeroes. Nope, no mistake. He whistled softly. “Now that,” he said, with considerable emphasis, “is a lot of money.” He looked back at Buck, who looked even sadder. “Son, most people would be kicking up their heels with joy for a tenth of this, and here you’re lookin’ like a kid who just got all his toys stole.”

Buck just shook his head. “I told Mr. Danworth this afternoon I didn’t do this for a reward. Then tonight at dinner, he gave me this - said it was payment for services rendered, not a reward.”

“Buck, you did save his daughter’s life, not to mention helpin’ keep his money safe in the bank here. Stands to reason he might think he owed you.”

“That much?” Buck slumped farther down on the chair. “That’s a lot of service.”

“Ain’t like Danworth can’t afford it, Buck.”

“I know, but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is, that’s too much money - way too much. I can’t take it.”

“Why not?”

Buck started to answer, then stopped, searching for words. “I just can’t,” he finally said weakly. For all his certainty about not taking the money, it was hard to put his reasons into words.

Teaspoon just nodded, planning his strategy. “You told Danworth you didn’t want a reward, right?”

“Yes, when we were riding this afternoon.”

“And you were real clear about it?”

“I told him twice. I told him all I wanted was to know it was all right to write to Rebecca.”

“He have a problem with that?”

“He said he didn’t.”

“So Danworth wasn’t still thinking you wanted a reward.”

“No, he shouldn’t have been. And he said at dinner that he was much more generous with this because I didn’t ask for a reward.”

“You ever say anything about wanting to get paid for what you did?”

Buck shook his head adamantly. “No. I made it clear it was just luck that I was there, and I was glad I could help. I never asked for payment.”

“And you never threatened Danworth or his daughter?”

“No!”

Teaspoon smiled. “Didn’t figure you had.” He slid his chair closer and handed the bankbook back to Buck. “Don’t seem like there’s any real reason not to take it, Buck. ‘Sides, the money’s already in your name.”

Buck just stared down at the book in his hands. “That’s what Rebecca said.”

There was silence between them for a few moments before Teaspoon finally said softly, “Kinda scares you, don’t it, having that much money?”

Buck just nodded without looking up. “It’s more than I ever dreamed of having to my name, Teaspoon. I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“Well, just ‘cause you got money don’t mean you gotta spend it,” Teaspoon observed. “Might be if you take a little time you can think of things to do with it.”

“Like what?” Buck asked earnestly, hoping Teaspoon would have some good advice.

“Now, it ain’t my place to decide how you spend that money,” Teaspoon warned. But he could also see the plea for help in Buck’s eyes, so he considered for a moment. “What about that mission school you went to? I know you had some rough times there, but they helped make you into a fine young man, so must’ve been some good times too. Maybe you could do something to help the school.”

Buck’s eyes lit up and he nodded. “I could do something in Ike’s name.”

“That you could,” Teaspoon agreed, glad to see some life coming back to the younger man. “That would be real good, Buck. Something the school could use to help more kids, and with Ike’s name attached. He’d like that.”

“He would. It’s a good idea.”

“And after that, well, you gotta know the Express ain’t gonna be running much longer.” Buck just nodded, so Teaspoon continued, “Alexander Majors stopped over today, after he met with Danworth. He didn’t say there was a date set yet, but we gotta figure on being out of jobs by the end of the year. Now I don’t know how much thought you’ve given that, but maybe you’ll need some of that money to get started on something new.”

“We talked about that this afternoon while we were out riding,” Buck replied. “Mr. Danworth offered me a job.”

Teaspoon’s eyebrow shot up at that one. Buck had obviously had quite an interesting day with the Danworths. “Did he now. You gonna take it?”

“I told him I’d think about it.”

“Well, now you got the money so’s you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” Teaspoon pointed out. “Your friends will all be out of work too. Not that you have to, but might be there’s things you could do now to help them get started on something new. But only if you want to.”

“Of course I’d want to,” Buck said quickly. He paused, then asked, “What about you, Teaspoon. What do you need?”

“Me?” Teaspoon shook his head. “No, I wasn’t talking about me. I appreciate the thought, Buck, but I got everything I need.”

“I want to do right, Teaspoon,” Buck said quietly. “I’m just not real sure I know what that is right now.”

Teaspoon reached over to pat the younger man’s shoulder. Pointing at the book in Buck’s hand he said, “That there is a big change for you, Buck. Ain’t no way to deny that. But you’re a good man, and you will do right.”

“I hope so.”

“Well, I know so.” Teaspoon stood up and took Buck’s arm, pulling the younger man to his feet. “There’s a lot for you to think about, Buck. And you ain’t gonna figure it all out tonight. Best thing right now is for you to go back to the bunkhouse, try and get some sleep. Things’ll get clearer over some time.”

Buck sighed. “I hope so.”

“We’ll talk again, after you’ve had some time to think.”

“Thanks, Teaspoon.”

Teaspoon gave Buck a gentle push toward the door, then he stopped an picked up a sheet of paper. "Now, about this blanket . . .”

Buck had reached the door, and he just stood there, grinning and shaking his head. In a strange sort of way, it was comforting to know that being suddenly rich didn’t change some things. Looking back over his shoulder as he opened the door he said, “Send me a bill.” Then he stepped out into the night, leaving Teaspoon laughing inside the jail. Buck knew he hadn’t actually resolved anything about the money or his future, but he did feel better.

________________________________________

Judge Cameron pounded the gavel on the table, bringing order back to the room. As the spectators quieted again he asked, “Anything else, Marshal Hunter?”

Teaspoon shook his head. “No, your Honor. I think that’s it.”

Cameron looked around the room, trying to keep the expression on his face neutral. It wasn’t a simple task - this was easily one of the most amazing stories he’d heard in his many years as an attorney and on the bench. Still, he had rulings to make, and he needed to at least appear to remain impartial. He banged the gavel again, then said, “Mrs. Dunne?”

Rachel stood up from her seat in the front. “Yes, your honor?” On either side of her Buck and Jimmy held one of her hands for comfort.

“The preliminary evidence was quite overwhelming,” Cameron said. “I am issuing a finding that the shooting death of Luke Shellum was justified, and this matter is closed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rachel answered, breathing a sigh of relief. She hadn’t really been worried, but still . . . it felt good to be officially done with the matter. Around her she could hear the general murmurings of content with the decision from the people gathered there.

Cameron banged the gavel again, quieting the room once more. “Now as to the matter of the accused - Billings, Keller, and Feld. I find more than sufficient evidence to order a full trial.” The crowd noise of approval drowned out his next words and he banged the gavel several times to regain order. “However, I also find myself in agreement with Marshal Hunter that a fair trial cannot be held here in Rock Creek - particularly because most of the available population for jury selection was apparently involved in illegally plotting to carry out so-called vigilante justice outside the bounds of the law.” He glared out over the crowd, which this time stayed very quiet.

The judge noted the quiet with some satisfaction. After hearing the testimony about what had happened in Rock Creek sixteen days earlier, he could tell there were a good many of the town’s citizens who were feeling quite embarrassed by their actions that night. And rightly so, he added to himself. “I am ordering the trial moved to Fort Kearney, to start this coming Tuesday. Marshal Hunter, I trust you can make arrangements to transport the prisoners?”

“Yes, your Honor,” Teaspoon answered. “We can do that.”

Cameron nodded, making a note on the documents in front of him. “Then I believe that brings us to the last order of business. Marshall Hunter, you and your deputy, Mr. Hickok, need to decide what charges you will be making against any of the citizens of Rock Creek who were involved in the destruction of town property or the illegal plan to lynch Mr. Cross. Given the same problem of seating an impartial jury here, the trials can be scheduled for Fort Kearney as well.”

This time there was a nervous response from the crowd. For many of the men seated there, a sure knowledge of their own guilt caused them to hang their heads as they reached for the hands of loved ones, waiting to hear their fate.

Teaspoon looked to Jimmy, who nodded and stood up. “Your Honor, I was in charge here in town that night. I guess it’s true that we could charge some folks with breaking the law. But we, Marshal Hunter and I, decided it’s up to Buck. He’s the one they wanted to hang.”

Cameron made another note then looked over at Buck. “Very well. Mr. Cross, you have ample cause to request a full hearing on serious offenses against many of the people in this room.”

Buck could feel Rachel’s hand still in his, though it was now her turn to provide the comfort. It was hard to deny the part of him that wanted - even demanded - revenge. Another part of him, however, recognized that Rock Creek was his home, the home of his friends, and that created a new type of responsibility for him here. He turned and slowly looked around the room, noting the looks of sadness, guilt, remorse, and nervousness on the faces there. But for the first time he could remember, there were no looks of outright hostility directed toward him. Looking forward again he stood up and faced the judge. “Your Honor, the town of Rock Creek has suffered enough over this. And the main men behind the trouble are already standing trial. I won’t be pressing any additional charges against anyone else.”

As noise from the crowd erupted again, Cameron banged the gavel once more for order. “I need to ask if you’re sure, Mr. Cross. I don’t want to re-open this down the line.”

“I’m sure, sir,” Buck answered.

“Then I will close the matter,” Cameron said. He looked out over the crowd. “I hope many of you realize how generous Mr. Cross is being,” he said sternly. “If I ever hear of trouble like this in Rock Creek again, the consequences will be much more severe.” The hushed silence convinced him that his message had gotten through. “Now, I will expect all of you with material knowledge of the case to appear in Fort Kearney to testify. My clerk has a list of names. Verify with him before you leave this room that you will appear in court - otherwise, I will issue subpoenas to compel your testimony.” With that he banged the gavel one more time and announced, “This hearing is closed.”

The crowd began to disperse, some people leaving while others lined up to see the judge’s clerk. Teaspoon, Jimmy, and Kid ushered the three prisoners out the back way on the return trip to the jail.

Buck quickly found himself surrounded - mostly by the wives of the men he had just freed from any criminal charges concerning the lynching plot. Without exception they apologized and assured him their men would never be involved in anything similar again. Dire consequences at home were promised should any of the men slip.

Buck thanked all of them politely, looking for a way out. When the crowd finally opened a bit behind him he slipped through, breathing a sigh of relief - only to find himself face to face with Sheldon and Rebecca Danworth. Rebecca’s green eyes sparkled as she noted the flustered look on his face. “I think you made some new friends, Buck.”

Buck looked over his shoulder, then turned back to Rebecca. “I don’t know about friends,” he said. “But maybe I’ll be able to walk down the street or into a store without being hated on sight.”

“It was a good decision, Buck,” Sheldon said. “You were right that the town has suffered enough.”

Buck just nodded, anxious to get the attention off of him. “Your testimony was very strong,” he told Rebecca.

“It’ll be harder in Fort Kearney,” she answered softly. “I didn’t have to go into much detail here.”

Danworth took his daughter’s hand. “I’ll be right there beside you, darling. And I’m sure Buck will be too.”

“We’re going to leave tomorrow,” Rebecca said. “Doctor Freeman says I can travel, but it needs to be slow.” She reached her other hand out to Buck. “Will you ride with us?”

Buck had planned on riding with Teaspoon, Jimmy, and the three prisoners. But something in the way Rebecca asked for his company made him hesitate. This was not going to be an easy trial for her, having to relive the brutal attack. “Let me talk to Teaspoon,” he said. “I’m sure that will be all right.”

“I hope so,” Rebecca replied.

“Will you join us for dinner tonight, Buck?” Sheldon asked.

Buck hesitated - he wasn’t sure he had recovered from the last dinner they had shared. Still, the surprises had to end somewhere. “Of course,” he answered. “I’d like that.”

“We’ll see you tonight then,” Danworth said. “Rebecca needs some rest now, especially with having to travel tomorrow. Shall we say seven o’clock?”

“That’s fine.” He watched them leave, almost relieved to finally be alone. But then he felt soft hands grasp each of his arms.

“That was a good thing you did, Buck,” Rachel said from one side.

“Yes, it was,” Polly agreed from the other side. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“What they almost did that night still scares me,” Buck admitted. “But I just saw all the wives and children, and what would they do if I put their husbands in prison? Besides, I really believe at least most of them are sorry they got caught up in the whole mess.” In fact, many of the men had told him that over the last two weeks.

“You’re a good man, Buck Cross,” Rachel said. Privately, she had to admit she wasn’t sure she could have been so reasonable. She still remembered her anger at being framed for the murder of the man who killed her husband.

“Well, I think this calls for a celebration,” Polly said. “The sarsaparilla’s on me.”

“Sounds good to me, Polly,” Buck said, smiling and offering an arm to each lady. Together they walked away toward Polly’s saloon.

________________________________________

The thump of the trapdoor opening echoed through the crowd, followed quickly by the SNAP of the rope as Stan Keller met the fate decreed by the court. He was the last of the convicted men to meet the hangman.

Rebecca stood in the crowd, her father holding her left arm for support, her right hand locked in a death-grip around Buck’s. The sounds of the hanging stayed with her, and she barely noticed as the rest of the crowd started to move away.

Sheldon studied his daughter’s face, a worried look in his eyes. She was so pale, paler even than when he had first arrived in Rock Creek. The dark circles under her eyes contrasted heavily with the pale skin, only confirming that she had barely slept in the five days since they had arrived in Fort Kearney. He could only hope that she’d be able to relax now that the trial was over. “It’s finished, darling,” he said gently. “Maybe you should try and get some sleep now.”

Rebecca stayed still for a moment, then finally turned to her father. “I don’t think I could sleep right now.”

“Maybe you could just rest, even if you can’t sleep,” Buck said softly. He was worried about her too - though from the lack of feeling in his fingers he guessed she hadn’t lost much strength through the ordeal of the trial. He flexed his arm ever so slightly, trying to ease a little of the pressure she was applying.

Rebecca felt the movement and looked down, finally realizing the extent of the grip she had on his hand. She opened her fingers quickly, then held his hand gently as she rubbed the blood-starved fingers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s all right. Rebecca, you’re hurting much worse than I am.”

“Let me take you back to our rooms,” Sheldon said.

Rebecca looked back up at the gallows, then slowly shook her head. “If I close my eyes right now, I’m only going to see the trial, or the hanging.” She shivered at the thought, then forced her eyes away from the hangman’s domain. “Buck, would you go for a ride with me?”

Buck looked over toward her father, seeing his own concern mirrored in the older man’s eyes. “Rebecca, are you sure you’re up to that?”

She smiled, looking to her father. “Papa, really, I’m fine. I just need to get away from here for a little while. And you know how I like to ride.”

Sheldon studied the plea in his daughter’s eyes, so tempted to just give in. It was a rare day when he could actually deny his only child anything. But he certainly didn’t want to do anything to risk losing her again, so he decided on a compromise. “Dr. Freeman had a meeting with his counterpart here at the fort this morning,” he said. “He should be free by now though. Come with me and talk to him. If he says you’re up to it, I won’t object.”

“All right, that’s fair,” she agreed. Then she turned back to Buck. “You still haven’t said if you’re willing to go. Maybe your hand isn’t up to it.”

He grinned and flexed his fingers in front of her. “My hand is fine,” he said. “You go talk to the doctor. I’ll see if I can find Jimmy or Teaspoon and borrow a horse for you.”

“I’ll be finished with the doctor and changed in an hour,” she told Buck, sounding stronger and more confident than either man had heard her since before the trial. Going for a ride had become her new goal, and concentrating on that goal helped push the pain of the trial away.

“I’ll be ready,” he answered.

Rebecca turned and walked away, leaving the two men standing together. Sheldon watched his daughter, noting her determined stride, and he had to smile. “I may have mentioned that stubborn trait that runs in the family,” he said.

Buck just nodded. “I’ll make sure and have two horses ready.”

“Yes, I think they’ll be needed.”

________________________________________

Buck rode slowly to the top of the small hill then stopped his horse and dismounted. He didn't have to wait more than a few seconds until Rebecca rode up next to him. "Let's stop here for a while," he suggested.

Rebecca leaned over to pat the neck of the palomino she rode. She was enjoying the ride, glad that Buck had been able to borrow the fine animal from Jimmy. "I'm really not that tired," she said, knowing Buck was stopping for her sake.

"Maybe I'm tired," he said, grinning.

She cocked an eyebrow at that, giving him a quizzical look. "Oh, of course. I'm sure the three or four miles we've ridden now -- slowly -- in the last hour would tax someone used to riding seventy-five miles all out. I should have realized."

His grin widened at her teasing tone. "How about this, then? We're away from the fort, there's a nice stream down below for the horses, shade trees here for us -- it's a good place to stop." He didn't mention the promise he'd made to her father to avoid tiring her too much.

Rebecca considered that for a moment then gave in and nodded. It felt good to be away from the fort and all of the people -- all of the reminders of the trial. She started to slowly dismount. The horse, unused to the nuances of this rider, shifted just then, bumping against her as she reached the ground.

Buck caught her as she stumbled, his right arm wrapping easily around her waist. And then, as Rebecca looked up into his eyes, an unseen hand seemed to push his head forward. Unbidden forces took over and he leaned in, his lips seeking hers.

Rebecca's eyes went wide in surprise as the kiss started, but the surprise was quickly replaced by a pleasant tingling that started at her lips and then seemed to run the course of her body. She closed her eyes, melting against him.

Suddenly, as if a hood had been lifted from his eyes, reality crashed in and Buck pulled back, shocked at what had just happened. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I don't know . . ."

Rebecca felt him pull away, and she forced a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "I'm not sorry," she whispered, reaching a hand out to stop his apology. When his protest stopped, she moved her hand around to the back of his head, wrapping her fingers into his hair and pulling him close again. Her lips found his and they kissed again. When they finally parted she smiled and added, "Because I've been wanting to do that."

Buck took a couple of deep breaths and stepped back slightly, still surprised by what he had started. "But what happens now?" he asked softly. He sat down, leaning against a tree.

"I don't know," Rebecca admitted. She looked off across the prairie, considering. "Jennifer will be in Rock Creek soon, and you're not sure what will happen then. And as for me, after everything the last few weeks, it's going to be a long time before I'm ready to let someone into my life."

"So we forget what just happened?"

"No, we don't forget." She walked over and sat down next to Buck. "I don't think I could forget."

He held out his arm, smiling as she leaned in against him. "I couldn't either," he admitted. "But I still don't really know why I did that. I didn't plan it."

"I know." She laid her head against his shoulder, comforted by his strength. "You've been through a lot too."

He nodded. "I guess we both need some time to see how things will play out."

"I'll expect you to write and tell me everything about Jennifer's visit."

Buck cocked an eyebrow at that and grinned. "Everything?"

Rebecca stared at him, matching his grin. "Yes - everything!"

"It might be a short letter," he said, the grin disappearing.

"Maybe. Or it could be the start of something wonderful."

He nodded. "We'll see." He studied her face for a moment, noting again the pale skin, the dark circles under her eyes. "I'll expect you to write and tell me things are getting better for you."

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I'll be fine," she said softly. "I just need time to put all of this behind me."

"Can I help?"

"You saved my life, I think that's enough."

"I wish I could help you sleep. I know you need it." It was obvious just to look at her, even if Sheldon hadn't quietly voiced his own concern earlier that day.

She shuddered, her eyes filling with unbidden tears. "I know," she admitted softly. "But every time I close my eyes, I see them."

Buck pulled her closer to him, his embrace helping to quiet her trembling. "They can't hurt you any longer," he whispered.

"When I'm awake, I know that," Rebecca answered. "But when I'm asleep . . . well, my dreams don't seem to agree."

Buck used his free hand to hold up his medicine pouch. "You know, this helps protect me from bad things in my dreams. Maybe since you're so close, it can help you too. Why don't you try to sleep, and I'll be right here if anything happens."

She reached out to touch the pouch, smiling as he wrapped her hand around it, then covered her hand with his. If Buck believed that, she could try too -- and she did desperately need sleep. She leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Even an hour of sleep would help . . .

________________________________________

Sheldon Danworth paced the small front room of the guest quarters nervously, his eyes rarely far from the clock in one corner. Rebecca and Buck had left on what was supposed to be a short ride almost ten hours ago. That wasn't what he considered short, not to mention it was getting dark . . .

Marshal Hunter and the Hickok boy had been by, assuring him that Rebecca couldn't be in better hands, and Buck could handle anything that came up. But there were so many things that could have happened, so many dangers, and Rebecca was still weak.

He heard horses close out front and he ran to the door, throwing it wide open. It felt like his heart skipped a beat as he saw his daughter, back safe. "Rebecca! I was about ready to insist on having a search party sent out."

Rebecca smiled knowingly at Buck as she handed over her horse's reins. "I told you," she said softly, then turned to her father. "I'm sorry you were worried papa, but we're fine. And it's all my fault. I fell asleep, and Buck didn't want to wake me."

Sheldon looked at her carefully, seeing for himself that some of the exhaustion had disappeared from her face. "You slept -- no nightmares?"

"No nightmares. Just one afternoon, but it's a start."

Sheldon wrapped his arms around her. "It's a good start, darling," he whispered. "It's a wonderful start."

Buck decided that was a good cue for him to leave. "I'd better get Jimmy's horse back to him before he gets worried," he said. "I'll see you in the morning, all right?"

"Thank you, Buck," Rebecca said.

"Yes, thank you," Sheldon echoed. Whatever the boy had done to allow his daughter to sleep, it bordered on a miracle. They both waved as Buck rode off and then Sheldon led the way back into their rooms. He could only hope that whatever had started this afternoon would continue and let his daughter find peace.

________________________________________

Buck stood alone, watching the coach carrying the Danworths as it headed west. Finally, as it disappeared in the distance, he turned the other way, looking off in the direction of Rock Creek.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. It was still hard to believe everything that had happened in the last few weeks. Life could change so quickly.

Out of one, admittedly BAD, night in Rock Creek had come options he wouldn't have considered possible a month earlier. The timely arrival of Jennifer Tompkins' letter had led to something of a truce between Buck and her father. He had no idea what would happen when Jennifer got to town - in truth, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to happen - but at least he wouldn't be fighting Bill Tompkins every step of the way if something did develop with Jen.

Realistically though, Jen had gone off and made a new life for herself, moving beyond the Eagle Feather he knew. Hell, he'd changed himself - the old Buck Cross probably wouldn't have been able to get past his need for revenge against the men who had threatened him. He smiled just a little, remembering the exquisite punishment he had meted out to the men who had humiliated him for seeing Kathleen Devlin.

No, whatever happened with Jen, it would be all right - as long as she remained his friend.

And now he knew he had another option to the west, and new friends in Denver. If he wound up leaving Rock Creek, he might well head that way, and take Sheldon Danworth up on his job offer. It would be new country to see and explore, new experiences to absorb.

Of course, he had money now. He could always go east, buy a mansion somewhere . . .

He grinned - probably not!

He heard his name being called and he looked over to see Teaspoon and Jimmy standing to one side, their three horses saddled and ready to go. The other riders had already headed back to Rock Creek to pick up their mail runs again, so it was just the three of them left.

Buck headed toward his friends. He had a lot to think about, but he also had time to do that in. Right now, it was time to go back to Rock Creek.

Time to go home.