DISCLAIMER: AS ALWAYS, I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE WALKER, TEXAS RANGER CHARACTERS NOR IS ANY OWNERSHIP IMPLIED.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: IN THE HAYES COOPER FLASHBACKS OF THE LAST EPISODES OF WTR, SYDNEY'S CHARACTER WAS NOT NAMED. SINCE SHE IS A VITAL CHARACTER IN THESE STORIES, SHE NEEDED A NAME, SO I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF CHOOSING A NAME FOR HER, HENCE THE CHARACTER OF LILY.
The child walked slowly along the main street of Bovine, Texas, head bowed against the cold December wind that whipped and whirled off of the prairie. It was a cold night, and no night for a child to be out alone, especially a child that was barefoot and wearing only a man's long shirt as protection from the winter chill. Where the street had been muddy, it was now iced over and walking required careful concentration. A mix of snow and sleet fell from the dark sky, making it difficult to see more than just a few feet ahead.
The child, maybe only five or six years old at the very oldest, walked toward the only light on the street, the lights of the Red Ox Saloon. The golden light that shined from the saloon windows was inviting and radiated warmth. Upon reaching the saloon, the child peered cautiously through the windows and was surprised at the raucous scene inside: men sat at tables playing cards and gambling, glasses of amber liquids in their hands. Women in fancy dresses, their hair curled and piled high on their heads, their cheeks rouged, laughed and twirled around, dancing to the music that came from a piano in the corner. Men shouted and pulled the women onto their laps and the women giggled and coddled the men like the child's mother did when Baby Sister would cry.
Ma wouldn't be happy about it, the child seeing a scene like this. The child didn't quite know what was wrong with it, other than people didn't act this way outside of buildings like this. Nevertheless, the child was cold and hungry and needed help. Ma and Pa and Baby Sister were sick and maybe somebody in that building would be able to do something for them. Not sure what to do, and afraid to go inside, the child curled up on the wooden walkway next to a bench that sat just off to the side of the saloon's swinging doors and waited for somebody to go in or out. There, a slight bit of warmth from inside the barroom could be felt, and the golden light that shined out onto the street felt like the closest thing to hope the child had felt in days. The child nestled in the tiny nook between the bench and the side of the worn wooden building and listened to the music and laughter from inside, trying to forget about being cold and hungry. In no time at all the child's eyelids grew heavy and sleep won out. It was quite a surprise to the revelers inside when they left the saloon for the night to find a young child fast asleep right outside the doors of the Red Ox.
"Who would have left a child here?" Ophelia mused. "You don't think a cowboy forgot him, do you?"
Angeline rolled her eyes at her friend's naiveté. Pulling off her shawl and tucking it around the sleeping child, she replied tartly, "Not hardly, Ophelia. I think she is lost."
"He, she, it don't matter," Ophelia retorted. "We can't just leave a child out here in the cold. What are we going to do?"
"You could take the kid to Doc Amos," Matt said, stepping out onto the porch to see what was keeping Ophelia. He had taken a bit of a shine to the curly-haired blond with the angelic face and was hoping to spend a bit more time with her before he rode back out of town for the night. "Or you could wait for the sheriff to make his rounds and see what he thinks."
"Well, we can't leave a kid out here in the cold," Angeline announced matter-of-factly. She knelt and scooped the child up in her arms and headed back inside to the warmth of the saloon.
"But Angeline, that's a little child! You can't take a little child into a saloon for God's sake!" Ophelia wailed in objection but she followed her friend back inside with Matt in tow.
Angeline had already cleared a group of cowboys from the table closest to the woodstove and had ordered another cowboy to add a couple more logs to the fire. She deposited the child onto a chair and pulled it close to the stove.
"Stan, bring something warm to drink, tea, maybe," she ordered, "And Ophelia, find me your shawl or get a blanket. This poor little thing is just about froze to death."
Hayes Cooper was the sheriff of Bovine, Texas and usually made his rounds every night to make sure all was calm in town. That night, though, he had traded duties with his deputy, Judd Weaver. When Weaver got to the Red Ox, he was surprised to see most of the saloon's occupants crowded around the building's woodstove, staring in awe at a little blond child who was sound asleep on Angeline's lap.
"Whose kid is that?" Weaver asked as he pushed through the crowd to warm himself next to the woodstove. He blew on his hands and held them over the stove's glowing-red surface as he blinked unbelievingly at the sight of the child in Angeline's arms, finding himself just as confused as everyone else in the room.
"We don't know," Ophelia drawled, "We found him out front, sleeping under the bench."
"We were waiting for the sheriff to get here to ask what to do about her," Angeline said quietly, gently rocking the sleeping child. "She hasn't woke up. I hope she's not sick."
"Maybe we ought to get her to Doc Amos just to be sure," The last thing Judd Weaver wanted was to be responsible for a lost child, and a sick one at that. Figures, he thought, this couldn't have happened on a night when Cooper made rounds.
"Doc's not here. He's been out at Will Early's ranch all day. Will's wife's baby's coming." Lucie met Angeline and Weaver at Doc Amos' office. She had spent a great deal of time at Doc's office while she was recovering from the severe burns she'd suffered at the hands of one of the outlaws that had taken her, Angeline, Ophelia, and Cooper and Weaver's wives, Althea and Lily, hostage after Weaver and Lily's wedding three months before. While Lucie's burns were healing, she kept boredom at bay by studying Doc's medical books. To Doc's surprise, she was a fast learner and had become a huge help to him in his office. She had also decided that she wasn't going back to the saloon once Doc pronounced her healed. Instead, she decided she would stay and help Doc and perhaps become a midwife. It seemed ridiculous to her that Doc would spend long hours away from his office waiting for women to deliver their babies when she could help out and he could be in the office using that time to treat others who needed his services.
"We found this little one outside the saloon," Angeline carefully unwrapped the child who stirred but went back to sleep. "It's so cold out and all she had on was a long shirt. I'm afraid she's sick."
"Here," Lucie motioned to a bed in Doc's examination room. "Set her here and let me have a look at her. I don't know what I can do, but we can keep her here until Doc gets back."
Lucie checked over the child. "Poor little lamb," she clucked. "Wonder where she came from?" Lucie looked up at Weaver questioningly.
"I've never seen her before. I don't think she belongs to anyone in town," Weaver replied.
"Well, somebody must be missing the wee one." Lucie continued to check the child over. "Poor thing, her toes are all frostbit. And her fingers, too. She's been out in the cold awhile." Lucie motioned to the basin and pitcher on the sideboard on the other side of the room. "Heat some water for me, would you? And grab me a towel over there."
Angeline obeyed and within minutes, Lucie was bathing the child's fingers and toes with warm water. Before long, the child stirred and coughed. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she stared around the room, looking hard at Angeline, Weaver. When she saw Lucie, her eyes grew wide and round and she recoiled with fear.
"I know, I know, little one. It's okay. I'm not pretty, but I'm not going to hurt you, either. I had a bad accident. That's why my face looks this way and that's why I don't have no hair on the side of my head. But Doc says I'm getting better and I'll be pretty again someday real soon. You don't have to be afraid of me, I promise," Lucie soothed, noticing the child's reaction.
The child seemed to settle, wincing as Lucie gently rubbed at her hands and feet, trying to bring the warmth and circulation back to the child's fingers and toes.
"Are you starting to warm up, love?" Lucie asked. "Do you think you could drink some tea or eat something?"
The child yawned and nestled into the quilt that Lucie had tucked around her.
"Can you talk, little girl? What's your name?" Weaver asked, stepping up to the child's bedside. "Where are your folks?" The child coughed again, a hard, pained cough that seemed to come from her very center, and pointed out the window.
"Out there?" Weaver asked.
The child nodded slowly in reply.
"There's nothin' out there but prairie," Angeline whispered hoarsely. "Are you from out on the prairie, sweetheart?" she asked tentatively.
The child looked up at Weaver, Angeline, and Lucy with big, dark eyes and then looked out the window where snowflakes the size of goose feathers were drifting from the sky. She nodded and pointed out the window again in response. A fit of coughing overcame her and Lucie sat her up and patted her on the back, whispering soft, soothing words until the child's coughing subsided.
"Damn," Judd Weaver hissed, putting on his hat and pulling the collar of his coat high around his neck to ward off the cold he knew was waiting on the other side of the door. "I better go get Cooper."