by Kim Roberts
© 2000
The beat of the drum is the heartbeat of the Earth . . . calling to her children . . . calling her children home.
His appetite satisfied, Teaspoon pushed himself back from the table, pulled the red checkered napkin from his shirt collar and wiped away the remnants of supper from his whiskers. The Marshal leaned back in his chair allowing his meal to settle and let his eyes rest briefly on each remaining member of his family seated at the table. Although there was plenty of room to spread out they sat together at one end as if the table was still crowded - unwilling to accept the space created by the departure of the other riders.
Teaspoon heaved a sigh of resignation and pulled an envelope from his pocket. "Well, can't say we didn't expect it, so this ain't gonna be no shock," he stated and removed a single sheet of paper from the envelope. His supper companions glanced at each other with knowing eyes, then fixed their gazes on the neatly scripted wording on the familiar stationary of Russell, Majors and Waddell.
"This here's the official word. As of. . ." Teaspoon hesitated for a moment, scanned the lines of text for the information he needed, then read directly from the notice. "As of twelve o'clock, noon, October 24, 1861, the Pony Express will cease operations. All employees of the Pony Express are hereby given notice that as of the aforementioned date and time their services are no longer required and employment with the firm of Russell, Majors and Waddell is terminated."
"Today?" Rachel questioned, her eyes opened wide in surprise. "But the telegraph lines aren't done yet. I thought we'd have a little more time."
"A little notice would have been nice," Lou stated emphatically. "We risked our lives workin' for that company and this is how they treat us!"
Teaspoon shrugged. "Reckon they needed riders up to the very end so they didn't say nothin' earlier. Prob'ly 'fraid you'd all leave if you knew when the axe was gonna fall." His eyes flitted across the document again. "Says here that operations will cease due to a 'negative cash flow position'".
"What's that mean, Teaspoon?" Kid asked, straining in the dim lamplight to see the wording on the offensive piece of paper.
"Means you're gonna be lucky to get paid," Teaspoon answered with some reluctance. He then set the letter on the table and pushed it away, anxious to be rid of it.
"Not get paid?" Kid asked in amazement. "We did our jobs, they owe us our pay!"
"I agree with you, Kid. But it seems the folks who invested in the Express pulled their money out to get rich quick with the railroad leavin' the Express with a lot of debts and no money to pay 'em."
The Marshal leaned his chair back on two legs and stuck his thumbs under his suspenders. "To make matters worse, the station itself has been sold. Not just ours, neither. All of 'em along the trail bein' sold off to cover the company's debts. We gotta be out by the fifteenth of next month so's the new owners can take possession."
Teaspoon paused, surveying the long faces surrounding him. "Sorry folks, but looks like the Express is history. Was a mighty fine idea in the beginnin', but I reckon you can't stop the wheels of change once they start rollin'. And now we gotta move on with 'em."
The bunkhouse was quiet for a few minutes as the weight of a simple piece of paper fell upon the room. Lou nudged Kid in the ribs and he finally broke the unwelcome silence. "We was gonna wait 'til it's approved, but this seems like as good a time as any. Lou and me been thinkin' a lot lately about our future. Thinkin' 'bout where 'home' is. I've decided the South can go to war without me. We're stayin' here."
"Well, I'm pleased to hear that, Kid," Teaspoon said with a wide smile of approval, thankful one of his boys had some sense.
"I talked to Jonas Wilkens at the bank today 'bout a loan to buy the Emerson place. Don't know much 'bout farmin' but I 'spect I can learn quick enough," Kid stated with confidence. "Maybe buy a few head of cattle, too. We planned on addin' this months wages to the down payment, but guess we'll just have to borrow a little more."
"The house needs a little work, but it'll be ours," Lou added leaning into her husband's embrace as Kid wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Rachel, I was kinda hopin' you could help me with curtains and such?"
Rachel was happy for the young couple across the table but felt a twinge of sadness, too. Their excitement reminded her of her own first home - a home and a future with Henry Dunne. "Honey, I'd love to. We'll, get started right away," she answered, pushing the bittersweet memories aside. It was time to move ahead, not linger in the past. "Then I s'pose I'd better see if that room's still available at the boardin' house. I must admit, it's been a bit much teachin' school and mindin' the station. There's some children who could really use extra attention. Now I'll have time to give 'em."
"What about you, Buck?" Teaspoon asked the young Indian who had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation. "You given any thought to my offer? Barnett'll be leavin' soon, although I can't imagine the U.S. Army's gonna want him any more'n I did. Gonna need a deputy when he moves out."
"We was thinkin' you might wanna go in with us on the farm," Kid added hopefully. "That is, if you ain't gonna pin on a badge permanent."
Buck looked up from his plate, a picture of indecision drawn on his face. "I don't know yet."
"What was in your letter from Sam?" Lou asked anxiously, remembering their earlier conversation at the corral and Buck's nondescript explanation of its contents. "You said it might be good news."
"News from the Territorial Marshal, huh? Well, let's here it, son," Teaspoon said as he placed all four legs of his chair back on the floor and leaned forward expressing his interest in Buck's news.
Buck withdrew the carefully folded letter from his pocket to oblige Teaspoon's request, cleared his throat and began.
Dear Buck,
From what we been hearin', sounds like the days of the Express are numbered. Hopefully, the boys won't go rushin' off to do somethin' crazy like take up sides in this war, but knowin' Teaspoon's bunch I kinda doubt he'll be able to hold 'em back if they take up the notion to be heroes.
I don't figure you're gonna be takin' either side in the matter and with the end of the Express comin' thought I would present an opportunity to you. I've taken the liberty of mentionin' your name and qualifications to the Territorial Governor. He plans to create a new office to negotiate treaties with the tribes in the territory. Seems the current Indian Agents are doin' a pretty poor job and the Governor wants more control over the situation.
If you're interested, the Governor wants to talk about you taking the job. You'd report directly to him and maybe even take a trip or two to Washington. I know it's a big step, but I think you could handle it just fine.
Let me know what you think. Tell the bunch 'hello' for us. As always, Emma sends her love.
Sam
"Well, if that don't beat all!" Teaspoon exclaimed and gave the young Kiowa an enthusiastic pat on the back. "Makes my offer look purdy slim!"
"Guess you won't be wantin' to take up farmin' now!" Kid added with equal fervor. "Gonna be livin' high workin' for the government. Gonna have to start callin' you 'Mr. Cross'!"
Buck look unconvinced. Although the letter had arrived earlier in the day, the paper showed wear and the creases were deep, evidence that it had been folded and unfolded, read and re-read. "I don't know."
"What's not to know?" Lou asked, perplexed why Buck wasn't as excited about his opportunity as they all were.
"Marshal Cain's right, Buck. You'd be perfect for the job," Rachel insisted giving Buck's arm a little shake as if to bring him to his senses. "You could do somethin' important."
"I don't know . . . never thought about workin' for the government is all. I don't trust 'em." Buck's expression scrunched in uncertainty as he folded the letter and placed it back in his shirt pocket. "I just don't know."
Buck lay awake listening to the deafening silence in the bunkhouse. He normally was appreciative of the stillness of the late night but now it was unsettling. It wasn't so much the quiet that bothered him, but the reason for it. They were gone. The family he once boasted about to Red Bear - the family that lived together, fought together, acted as one - had fallen apart like the staves of a whiskey barrel without the metal band holding it together. He realized now that he had been naïve to think the bond they shared would always be there. Maybe it was still there to a degree, but it certainly wasn't as important as it once was. "Teaspoon was right," he thought sadly. "You can't stop the wheels of change."
He was pleased that Lou and Kid would be remaining in Rock Creek - but it wouldn't be the same. They had already moved out of the bunkhouse accepting Rachel's offer of the extra room and a more appropriately sized bed in the house. They were starting their own lives, maybe even start a family someday. The Emerson place had been abandoned for quite a while. It would be a lot of work for just the two of them. Buck knew the newlyweds needed his help, but he'd never planted anything in his life. The Kiowa were hunters. Farming was an honorable profession but he just couldn't picture himself behind a plow.
With Barnett leaving, Teaspoon needed a deputy and Buck felt obligated to the older man. Teaspoon was the closest thing he ever had to a father and Buck didn't want to disappoint him or appear ungrateful. He and the other riders had assisted the Marshal numerous times, but he never really felt comfortable as a lawman. The residents of Rock Creek respected the badge, but not the half-breed who wore it.
Before moving out, Cody and his commander urged Buck to join them scouting for the Union Army. In deference to Cody, Buck hid his distaste for the uniform the officer wore and politely declined the offer. He had no desire to partake in the coming conflict and despite the commission promised him, doubted the Army would give him any greater respect than the citizens of Rock Creek did.
Buck was flattered by Sam's recommendation to the Governor but it just didn't feel right. He couldn't imagine the lawmakers in Washington would be all that concerned over fair treaties with the Indians once war between the North and South broke out. Even if treaties could be negotiated, they would be broken as quickly as the white man could change his mind. Buck had seen it before. How could he act on behalf of the government knowing their words were hollow?
But changes were coming whether he liked it or not and he had to do something. Buck tossed in his bunk and pulled the blanket tighter around himself to ward off the chill in the empty room. He didn't approve of Cody and Jimmy's impetuous actions but at least they had made a decision and were doing what they thought was important. That was more than he could do. If only Ike was still alive. They would face an uncertain future together like they always had. Ike would pull him into some scheme and after some initial hesitance, he would follow his friend - just like the day Ike dragged him into the Pony Express office in Sweetwater.
Buck never really wanted to be an Express rider - it was just a job when he and Ike needed one. The work suited him and to his surprise, he had gotten lucky and found a family in the bargain. But his family had grown apart and Ike was gone. Buck tossed again, uncomfortable with the emptiness in the room. He reached for the medicine bundle around his neck, fingering the precious contents inside, hoping for a little guidance. He didn't want to plant seeds in the ground and pray for rain. He really didn't want to be a lawman or a treaty maker either. In his entire life there was only one thing he had ever really wanted to be.
