The late-season thunderstorm roared all around, sending down torrents of rain amidst booming thunder and rippling flashes of lightning. Frightened animals neighed and mooed, clucked and brayed in the barn.

In the house, Amy hurriedly pulled on her boots and grabbed her jacket, heading out into the storm. She had heard her father leave the house just moments before. The storm had suddenly become much more intense than when they had retired for the night a few hours earlier, and now there was livestock to calm before any of the animals got injured.

As the lightning flickered, illuminating the area almost as bright as day, Amy could see her father nearing the barn. She was halfway across the yard herself when the lightning bolt arced through the sky, reaching its tendrils toward the largest oak near the barn. It struck the tree dead center, splitting the huge trunk and sending half of the oak toppling to the ground - right onto Amos Dandridge.

Amy heard a scream, but she didn't have time to even register that she was the one screaming. She raced through the mud to the fallen tree, desperately searching through the thick branches for a sign of life.

Please, God, no, not papa too. After all that's happened in the last year, please not papa too!

Teaspoon Hunter hunched his jacket as high up on his neck as it would go and pushed on against the wind and driving rain. The drops cut into his exposed skin, feeling almost like little knives. It was well past midnight, and he wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a warm blanket. But he'd been awakened by a crashing noise, and as Rock Creek's marshal, he needed to make sure his town was secure. The crash could have been made by some loose object blown by the wind, or it could have been a window being broken by the storm - or by a thief taking advantage of the storm for cover. Whatever it was, he knew he wouldn't sleep until he knew Rock Creek was safe and quiet, or at least as quiet as it could be on a night like this.

So far, he had found nothing amiss. No broken windows were apparent, no illicit entry into any of the businesses lining Rock Creek's main street, not even a drunk stumbling in an alley after the saloon closed. He was just about ready to start back to the marshal's office when the sound of hoof beats cut through the storm. Someone coming into town, and riding fast.

Squinting against the rain, he could make out someone stopping in front of Dr. Tyler's office, and then heavy pounding on the door. After a moment, there was a light inside and then the door opened and the rider was admitted inside.

Intrigued by the activity, but not alarmed, Teaspoon finished checking the building he was near, then started back down the street toward the doctor's office. But before he even got across the street the door opened again and a figure emerged, got on the waiting horse, and rode back out of town. A moment later Tyler's covered buckboard emerged from the alley and turned the same way. Teaspoon tried to get the driver's attention, but his shouts were drowned out by the rolling thunder.

Teaspoon gave some thought to getting his horse and trying to follow, but he had to admit to himself that it would be a difficult task. Just seeing the tracks in this weather would be a challenge. Besides, the heavy rain had caused so much mud that even the wagon tracks would probably fill in almost immediately.

He supposed he could go rouse Buck and ask for help, but the boy had just gotten back from a run the previous evening and had already spent considerable time in the saddle fighting this weather. He knew without a doubt that the young Kiowa would go back out into the storm if asked, but as he thought about it further, there didn't seem to be any real need. Since the unidentified rider had left alone, followed by Tyler, the doctor obviously wasn't being forced to go anywhere against his will. And neither of them had made any attempt to stop at the marshal's office, even though he had left the lantern burning.

As more thunder boomed, Teaspoon shrugged his shoulders and headed back toward his office. He'd check and see if the doc was back in the morning and deal with things then.

Morning arrived wet and gray, but at least the terrible wind and storm of the previous night had died down. Teaspoon poured a cup of the coffee he had just made, took a sip - and grimaced. He'd definitely have to head over to the bunkhouse for some of Rachel's brew before long. But he decided to finish posting the new batch of "Wanted" posters first.

"Morning, Teaspoon."

He turned at the sound of the voice, nodding to his visitor. "Hello, Doc. I was meaning to come see you today." He noticed that the other man's clothes were muddy, and overall the doctor looked quite waterlogged and exhausted.

"You feeling sick?"

"Nope, just curious about your trip out of town in the middle of the night. Trouble?"

Aaron Tyler sighed, helping himself to a cup of coffee. "Nothing requiring the law," he replied, sinking into a chair. "But there is something I could use your help with."

Teaspoon raised an eyebrow, curious. "Sure, Doc. Anything I can do."

Tyler sighed again, wondering where to start. "You ever meet Amos Dandridge?"

"Sure, talked to him a few times when he was in town for supplies. Seems like a real good fellow."

"He was."

"Was?" The eyebrow went up again.

"He was killed last night," Tyler explained. "Freak thing. Lightning split a big old oak tree out on his property, pinned him under the part that fell. His daughter, Amy, managed to get him out somehow."

"That was the daughter who came to town?"

"Yes. But that tree really tore Amos up. He was still alive when I got there, but there just wasn't anything I could do."

"Lordy, lordy," Teaspoon muttered, shaking his head. "How's the girl doing? I heard Amos talk about her, but I don't believe I ever met her."

"That doesn't surprise me. She doesn't come to town much." Tyler paused, taking another sip of coffee. "It's been a pretty rough year for her."

"How's that?"

"Along about eight, maybe nine months before you and your boys came to town, that's when Amos moved his family out here from Chicago. His wife, Martha, Amy, and Amy was engaged to a young man named Bill Crowell who moved out here too. Amos had this big plan to start up a dairy ranch."

"He mentioned that," Teaspoon said. "Last time I saw him, he said things were almost ready, and he had a dairy herd coming in soon."

"Well, Amos did pick up the pieces, and he was close to ready," Tyler agreed. "But shortly after they got out here, Amos and Bill went off to St. Joe to arrange for some equipment they needed. While they were gone, a gang of outlaws came through and found Martha and Amy out to the house alone."

"Damn," Teaspoon swore quietly. "I assume that's why he never mentioned a wife?"

"Martha was killed during the attack, and she didn't die easy. They left Amy for dead too, I think. But one of the Express riders from the crew before yours found a couple of horses roaming around and recognized the brand. When he took them back to the Dandridge place he found the girl, barely alive."

"Obviously, she pulled through."

"Yes, but she was in real danger for almost a week. And then when Amos and Bill got back a couple of days after we found Amy, Bill decided he couldn't deal with it. Left a note for Amos one day and just left."

"Just left?"

The doctor nodded. "So when Amy finally did wake up, Amos had to tell her about both her mother and Bill being gone."

"What kind of man runs out on someone he loves at a time like that?" Teaspoon growled. "He blame himself for not being there?"

"Maybe that was part of it," Tyler answered. "But I think he had a real hard time with the fact that she was raped, and then there was the scar on her face. They cut her up pretty good."

"They ever catch the men who did it?"

"No. Your predecessor took a posse out, but they lost the trail. Amy was able to describe some of the men, but no one's ever been able to identify them by name."

Teaspoon just nodded, his jaw set in a definite look of displeasure. He'd been in posses that lost the quarry - and he hated it.

"You know, I remember there was a town dance right after Amos and his family got here. You should have seen Amy then. Beautiful girl, laughing, dancing, talking to everyone." The doctor shook his head sadly. "The girl who survived that attack was quite different from the one who first came to Rock Creek."

"That when she stopped coming to town?"

"One side of her face was real tore up, left a big scar. I know that bothered her. 'Course, it seems like that's all some people see." Tyler paused, then added, "I can't even imagine what kind of scars an attack like that left on the inside. Since I released her from medical care, I don't think she's been to town more than once or twice, at least 'til last night."

Teaspoon nodded in reply, contemplating what he'd just heard. He thought he might just have to talk to Amy himself, get the descriptions of the men who attacked her, and see if he could do anything. But that could wait a bit. "Doc, when you came in, you mentioned wanting help. What kind of help you have in mind?"

"Amy's dead-set on burying Amos out on their property," Tyler answered. "In fact, she brought a wagon in now to pick up a casket." He put the coffee cup down and leaned forward. "Teaspoon, she's shut herself up on that ranch, and I'm sure she don't know anyone to ask for help. She can't bury Amos alone. Now, I'd help, but I got a bad back and can't lift much. So, I was wondering if maybe you could spare a couple of your riders. They're strong young men, and I figure that's what this job needs."

Teaspoon stood up, reaching for his hat and jacket. "I'll take care of it, Doc. We'll see that Amos gets buried proper."

"Thanks, Teaspoon." Tyler held out his hand, shaking hands with the marshal. He paused, then added, "Just remember, Amy is probably hurting worse than she'll let you see."

"We'll be real gentle, Doc," Teaspoon promised.

Teaspoon walked toward the Pony Express station, noticing only one of the riders outside in the rain. "Buck, where is everyone?"

Buck looked up from where he was finishing repairs on the corral fence. "Cody just got in," he reported. "Lou took the next ride. Rachel sent Kid and Noah over to the Peterson place to pick something up; they should be back soon." He pointed at the section of newly-repaired fence. "One of the horses kicked this down last night before we could get them all inside. Jimmy and I just finished fixing it. He's in the barn putting some tools away."

Teaspoon nodded, satisfied that everything was in order. "You get Jimmy, and the two of you saddle up," he instructed. "I need you to help me with something."

"Sure, Teaspoon," Buck agreed. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you boys all about it on the way," Teaspoon promised. "Now, I got to talk to Rachel for a minute, then I'll be right with you."

Buck nodded, picked up the remaining tools and supplies from the fence repair, and headed into the barn. Teaspoon watched until he disappeared inside, then smiled. His boys had turned out all right - willing to ride off with him without even knowing why. Oh, sometimes they grumbled a little, and he could imagine Hickok doing that right now, but they went.

His grin widening, Teaspoon turned toward the station house and headed inside. Yup, despite everything, they were all right.

Teaspoon filled Buck and Jimmy in on the story during the ride, and as they approached the Dandridge ranch he repeated, "Now remember, not a word about a scar or the attack or anything. She don't need any more sorrow today."

"We got it, Teaspoon," Jimmy answered. "I promise to be good."

They started toward the house but then Buck pulled up and pointed off to one side. "Over there," he said, and as they looked, they could see a lone figure digging under a stand of three trees atop a small hill. The riders headed in that direction.

As they got closer, they suddenly heard the distinctive clang of a shovel hitting rock - and they watched as the figure slumped against the shovel.

Amy cried out as the shovel vibrated against the rock. It seemed to be just another cruel irony of the day that she couldn't even dig a grave where she wanted. She leaned hard against the shovel, then slowly slid down to kneel in the mud as grief and frustration overcame her. She didn't notice the riders approaching.

"Miss Dandridge?"

The voice startled her, and she spun around, falling into the mud. It took a moment for her eyes to register the marshal's badge the older man was wearing. But even that didn't reassure her, having never met Rock Creek's marshal. She pushed back toward the nearest tree, still clutching the shovel.

"Miss, we didn't mean to scare you," Teaspoon said softly as he dismounted. "I'm Teaspoon Hunter, the marshal in Rock Creek. This here's Jimmy Hickok and Buck Cross, a couple of the boys who ride for the Pony Express." He took a couple of steps forward and continued, "I was real sorry to hear from Doc about your pa. We came to see if we could help."

She was silent for a moment, studying the three strangers. Part of her was still terrified, but on the other hand, they certainly hadn't done anything to threaten her. The older man had stopped a few feet away, and the two younger men had dismounted but hadn't made a move to come any closer.

Amy finally looked back at the man who had identified himself as the marshal. "This was papa's favorite place," she said softly, her voice unsteady. "He said when he saw this place, he knew right away this was the land he had to buy. He already buried mama under that next tree." She stabbed angrily at the ground with the shovel and added, "But I can't even dig him a grave here!" The last words were almost choked off by a sob.

"Well, you let us help you and we'll see what we can do," Teaspoon said, stepping toward her. He reached one hand down to help the girl up, pointing at the shovel with the other hand. "Jimmy, take this," he said, indicating the shovel.

Hickok stepped forward and gently pried the handle from the girl's fingers. He felt a lump in his throat as he looked at her rain-sodden figure, and the tear-reddened eyes. "I'll take that," he said as gently as he could. He stepped back, holding the shovel but not knowing what else to say.

"Do you have another shovel?" Buck asked, stepping up beside Jimmy. For the first time he could really see Amy - light brown hair braided down her back, rough-hewn work clothes dripping with rain and mud, large green eyes reflecting the pain of the last few hours. Her hands and forearms bore the scratches from trying to free her father from the downed tree.

And the scar.

As she looked up and finally seemed to realize that all three men were looking right at her, her right hand went automatically to her cheek, covering the white-ridged scar that ran from her temple to below the chin bone. She looked away quickly, eyes filling with tears.

Jimmy could feel his temper rising at the sight. Who would do something like that? He started to say something, but then he caught Teaspoon's slight shake of the head, and he remembered the promise to not mention the injury or the attack. Instead he tightened his grip on the shovel handle until his knuckles were white.

Buck found himself caught up less by the scar than by the haunted look in the girl's eyes. She was probably only about twenty or so, but her eyes looked so much older.

Turning slightly away from the men, Amy caught her breath. "There's another shovel in the barn," she was finally able to say.

"Well, Miss, maybe you could show Buck where that would be," Teaspoon suggested. "Meanwhile, me and Jimmy will see about finding a place where we can put your pa to rest."

Amy nodded and headed slowly toward the barn. Buck looked back at his friends for a moment, his own anger reflected in his eyes, then he turned and followed her.

Jimmy waited 'til they were out of earshot, then he stabbed angrily at the ground with the shovel. "Teaspoon, who the hell would . . ."

"That don't matter today, Jimmy," Teaspoon said, cutting the younger man off. His own anger was barely contained. "Today we get her pa buried. Then when she's ready, we'll find out about the animals who did that, and who killed her ma." His eyes hardened, matching his voice, as he added, "Ain't no one should get away with something like that."

The barn was large, and it provided welcome relief from the constant rain as Buck and Amy entered the building. She went immediately to a storage area and came back a moment later with another shovel and a pickaxe.   

Amy started back outside, but Buck reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "Why don't you stay inside here where it's dry," he suggested. "We'll dig for a while."

She shook her head. "Thank you, but this is the last thing I can do for my father. I need to be there."

"All right," he answered. He really could understand that. Still, he was worried about her. Standing here so close, he could see that she was trembling. He just wasn't sure if it was from the cold and wet, or from the trauma of her father's death. He looked out the barn door toward the house, noting no smoke coming from the chimney. "Maybe we could go get a fire started inside first," he suggested. "We'll probably all need some coffee to warm up later."

Amy looked up at him, nodding. "You're right. I should have thought of that."

"No, you don't have to think of things like that today," he said softly, taking the tools from her hand. With his other hand he gently took her elbow and escorted her out of the barn. After securing the door he led her toward the house.

By moving slightly to one side of where Amy had been trying to dig, Jimmy, Buck and Teaspoon were able to carve a suitable grave out of the wet ground without having to dig out a lot of rock. Finally, with Amos Dandridge's body resting in the newly-purchased coffin, they laid him to rest and Teaspoon spoke briefly about the short distance between life and death.

Finally, Amy sank to her knees, reaching for a handful of dirt. Holding out a trembling hand she dropped the soil into the grave. "Goodbye, daddy," she managed to whisper before the finality of the situation finally overwhelmed her and she broke down, sobbing.

The three men exchanged uneasy glances, not sure of the best way to help. They could understand her sorrow, but she was, ultimately, still a virtual stranger to them. Buck was standing the closest to her and he finally moved up and knelt behind her, whispering something softly as he put his hands on her shoulders. After a moment, she turned, burying her face against his shoulder, and he held her silently as she cried.

Jimmy and Teaspoon took that as a cue. Grabbing the shovels, they filled in the fresh grave, mounding the dirt carefully as they finished. Buck helped Amy to her feet and the four of them headed toward the house in silence.

Teaspoon finished brewing some coffee while Jimmy spread jackets and boots near the kitchen hearth to dry. Under Amy's direction Buck was able to find some towels which they all used to dry off as best they could.

When the coffee was finished Teaspoon poured four cups of the steaming brew and they sat down around the table. For a few minutes there was an uneasy silence before Amy finally looked up at the three of them. "I want to thank you for coming," she said. "I thought I could do it myself, but I couldn't have." She looked down, her hand going reflexively to cover her scar again.

"Ain't no shame in needing help," Teaspoon assured her. "We all need it now and then."

"Sure, I'm glad we could help," Jimmy added. He still wanted desperately to ask about the men who had attacked her, but he also knew Teaspoon was right. This was not the time.

"What are you going to do now?" Buck asked.

Amy hesitated a moment before answering. "I don't know," she admitted. "This was papa's dream, and I guess he made it my dream too. But I never thought of doing it without him."

"I heard you got a quite sizeable spread here," Teaspoon observed. "Ain't real likely you can run it all yourself."

"I know," Amy agreed. "We always planned on hiring some help when we started building up the herd. Now there are twenty head of dairy cows due here any day, and more coming by November."

"You got anyone lined up to come in?" Jimmy asked.

Amy shook her head. "I know papa had made some inquiries, but I don't know who or where." She paused. "I don't . . . go to town." She looked away, her finger tracing the scar on her face. "I'll have to see if he left anything written down."

"Well, let me check a couple places," Teaspoon offered. "I'm sure I can find out who he talked to."

"And we can help some too," Buck suggested. "In between mail runs." He ignored Jimmy's questioning look at the idea of being volunteered for more work. He still remembered the haunted look he'd seen in her eyes earlier, but he could also see a strength in Amy that he admired.

Amy shook her head in puzzlement. "You've been so kind. And you don't even know me."

"Folks gotta help each other where they can," Jimmy assured her.  And even though he might complain a little about extra work, he knew those words to be true.

Teaspoon set his empty cup down, looking at the clock over the mantle. "It's getting late," he started. "Amy, I don't imagine you ever met Rachel Dunne. She's the schoolteacher in town, and also keeps up the Pony Express station. She said she'd be glad to have you come stay for a couple of days so's you don't have to be alone."

Amy swallowed hard - it was going to be hard to stay there alone tonight. But she also knew she had to face the solitude, and it might as well be now. "Thank you," she said. "Please thank Mrs. Dunne for the kind offer. But I need to stay here. There are animals that need to be taken care of." She finished, rather proud of how steady she had kept her voice.

Teaspoon studied her for a moment before replying. "Well, if you're sure," he said.

"I am," Amy replied, sounding more sure than she really was. But the truth was, she was afraid that if she left right now, she might never come back. She couldn't do that to her father's dream.

Teaspoon stood up, followed by the others. He walked around the table and took Amy's hand. "I'll check around town about hiring that help," he promised, "and I'll check back on you in a few days. But if you need anything, you come to the Marshal's office. Me or one of the boys will help you out."

Amy squeezed his hand, almost afraid to let go. After months of seeing only her father, it felt strange to be trusting someone else again, but it also felt good. She finally let go though. "Thank you."

The three men sorted out jackets and boots from around the fire, dressed, and headed outside, followed by Amy. Buck and Jimmy retrieved the horses from the barn and the visitors mounted, ready to leave.

Before he turned his horse away for the ride home, Teaspoon leaned down and said, "Remember, you need anything, you let me know."

Amy nodded. "I will."

The three men all said goodbye, then turned their mounts toward Rock Creek and rode off, leaving Amy standing on the porch. As they passed the hill where Amos Dandridge was buried Buck turned to look back and saw that she was standing in the yard, staring at the fallen tree that had killed her father.  He didn't want to go back and bother her now, but an idea of how to help was forming in his mind.

"Jimmy!"

Hickok brushed his hand groggily at whatever it was that seemed to be bothering his shoulder. "Go away," he mumbled, refusing to wake up.

"Jimmy, come on. Get up!"

The voice wouldn't go away. Jimmy finally opened one eye just a little bit and saw Buck standing over him. "What?"

"There's something I need your help with."

Jimmy opened the eye just a little farther. "It's still dark," he announced. "Can't it wait?" It slowly dawned on him that Buck was shoving his clothes at him.

"No, it can't," Buck insisted, forcing the pants into Hickok's hands. "Now get dressed and meet me outside. I'll get the horses."

Jimmy slowly opened his other eye and watched as Buck slipped quietly out the door. He looked around, noticing that everyone else was still asleep. Which was what he wanted to be doing too. He almost dropped the clothes back on the trunk, but something about Buck's insistent tone told him it wouldn't do any good. If he wasn't outside by the time Buck saddled the horses, the Kiowa rider would just be back in, waking him again.

With a sigh, Jimmy threw his feet over the side of the bunk and got up. He dressed quickly, strapped on his gun, and went outside - where it really was still very dark.

Whatever it was Buck wanted at this hour, it had better be damned good, he decided.

The rhythmic thumping gradually penetrated her fitful sleep-generated haze and Amy opened her eyes, trying to identify the sound. When she couldn't determine that it was a normal sound of the ranch she got up, pulled on a robe, and went to the window.

There, in the yard, two figures were hard at work with axes, chopping at the loathsome tree that had caused her father's demise. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, but as she looked again, she was almost certain that the workers were the same two Pony Express riders who had been there the day before.

Amy turned away from the window, shaking her head. Rock Creek obviously had more good people than she'd given the town credit for. She pulled some work clothes out of the closet and got dressed, then went downstairs and out into the yard.

Buck saw her coming and he stopped in mid-swing, turning to greet her. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she answered, nodding to both of them. She had no idea what else to say at the moment. The idea that these two men would take the initiative to come out and do this was quite overwhelming.

"We figured you'd want your yard back," Jimmy said. "Well, Buck figured that. This was his idea." He wisely quit talking before he started complaining about the early wake-up call.

"You don't need this here as a reminder of . . . what happened," Buck explained, stumbling over the words a bit. Her father's death was still so fresh, and he was afraid of saying something that would make it worse for her.

Amy nodded. "You're right. I do want the tree gone." She hadn't realized how much she wanted it gone until just now. It really was fortunate they had shown up .  .  .

The new day's sunlight sparkling on the dew caught her attention and a question came to mind. "Have you eaten yet?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No, ma'am. Buck's early morning plan didn't include breakfast."

"I have jerky in my saddlebags," Buck offered helpfully.

The slightest hint of a smile touched Amy's lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I think I can offer you better than that," she promised. "I'll see what I can find, and call you when it's ready."

"Thank you, Miss Dandridge," Buck replied.

"Please, after all you've done, it's Amy."

"Amy," Buck repeated, smiling.

Amy nodded to the two men and turned toward the chicken coop to check for eggs. But even as she walked she couldn't help thinking that she really liked the way he said her name.

Jimmy eyed the table hungrily, impressed with what Amy had "found" for breakfast. The various plates and bowls held pancakes, eggs, biscuits, salt pork and fried potatoes, and there was a pitcher of fresh milk. "That sure does look better than jerky, Amy," he said, grinning.

Buck rolled his eyes at Hickok, then turned to Amy. "That's an understatement," he said. "But you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

She waved that off. "It's the least I can do for all your help." She paused. "Besides, it's good for me to stay busy. So please, sit down."

The two men didn't have to be told twice. They sat down and dug in to the breakfast spread.