The Line

by

Lana Coombe

Chapter 1

Jimmy leaned back in the wooden chair, lifted his feet up onto the desk and pushed away, expertly balancing on its two back legs. When he was assured he'd found the optimum position his mouth twitched with a satisfied smile. He pulled his hat brim down over his eyes and settled down for a quiet five minutes or how ever long it took.

Another rueful grin played on his lips as he realised how reminiscent his position was of Marshall - ex-Pony Express stationmaster and mentor - Teaspoon Hunter. Over the years he'd learned many things from the grizzled, older man and the most comfortable position in a chair, at the Marshall's office, wasn't an exception.

During his time with the Express, Teaspoon had taught the group of young men – and girl –in his care many things and had been a constant support when times got rough. He'd gradually earned the greatest respect from each and every one of them, especially from James Butler Hickok. In those formative years, Teaspoon had guided him from boy to man, helping make decisions about his life and saving his skin on more than one occasion. For the first time, in many years, Jimmy had felt he had a place to call home and family, of sorts.

With the demise of the Pony Express the family had divided and moved on, some further than others. There had been much talk of going to be part of the war efforts, causing some friction, as there was a split between the riders as to which side they supported. In the end the only one to go off to war was Cody, to scout for the Union.

Kid and Lou had talked about going south, back to Kid's homeland of Virginia but, as time passed, so did the will to leave and when the opportunity to purchase a smallholding in the area, at a reasonable price, had arisen, they decided to stay. This decision had given Teaspoon the impetus to remain in Rock Creek, as Marshal and not return to Texas, his place of origin.

For a short while Jimmy had stayed with Rosemary but soon realised his heart wasn't in it – for the cause or for the woman. He had returned after a couple of months to a warm reception and Teaspoon offered him a job as his deputy. Jimmy had gratefully accepted.

Buck too had left for a time. The death of his best friend, Ike had weighed heavily on him. Noah's death had made his burden harder to bear. The final disbandment of the Express and the thought of losing all his new found family was more than he could withstand. Early one morning he had simply slipped away in the hope of finding a new place for himself in the white world.

This had proved difficult and the only work he could find was with the army, as a scout. His previous encounters with the military made him reject this proposition whole-heartedly. So, several weeks later he had returned to Rock Creek world weary and disillusioned. This was the only place he could be assured of being accepted.

He took work with Janus, the smithy but when the opportunity to buy the old Express station came up, Teaspoon and the others encouraged him to invest and start a livery. With the backing of his friends he was able to secure some additional funding from the bank, sufficient to put in an acceptable offer for the business. It was going to take a while to build up custom and gain the respect of the people in this new capacity but Buck was willing to give it a try. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Jimmy had been pleased for him. It was generally felt amongst the riders that Buck was going to be the one who was going to find life after the Express the most difficult, not that it was going to be easy for any of them but the prejudice against the native population was ardent and even greater for a half-breed who wasn't fully accepted into either world. Even the citizens of Rock Creek, who knew Buck, were quick to turn on him in the event of any hostilities with the Indians. For the most part, Buck was able to rise above the bigotry and keep true to himself, hoping that in time he would be accepted, just as any other hard working man, trying to make his way in the world.

Jimmy had watched him ride out the previous day on his way to open negotiations with some Indian horse traders – the same traders Teaspoon had used for the Express. At least his heritage had some uses and perhaps the allegiance would be beneficial to both parties.

It was good to see his friends settled and getting on with their lives, Jimmy reflected. Perhaps one day he'd feel like doing the same. The deputy's job suited him for now but he knew he'd eventually get restless and feel the need to move on.

The rattle of the door being opened interrupted his meandering thoughts. Jimmy pushed his hat back with his index finger.

"You the marshal?" the man who had entered the office asked. Jimmy lifted his feet from the desk and let the chair drop onto all four legs.

"Deputy," he replied succinctly. There was something about the man, which made him uneasy. He'd obviously been on the trail a while, which was demonstrated by the layer of dust clinging to his clothing. A long duster coat hung from his broad shoulders, skimming his frame. Jimmy's trained eye was drawn to the two, tied down guns sitting comfortably on his thighs, attached to the worn gun belt, which hugged his hips. The man's face was worn and tanned, with couple of day's stubble protruding from his chin. His hat was pulled down low and Jimmy could only just see his eyes in the shadow thrown by the brim, even from his lower sitting position.

"What can I do for you?"

"Looking for someone," the man replied, sticking a short cheroot in his mouth and striking a match on the edge of the desk.

"Uh huh," Jimmy replied, without commitment, following the man's actions with his eyes.

"Heard he was here in Rock Creek," the man responded as he lit the cheroot.

"Got a name?"

"Cross. Half-breed, by all accounts."

Jimmy stilled himself and tried not to show any reaction. He'd actually been enquiring as to the man's name and his response had totally off-footed him. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to keep a calm exterior, although his mind was reeling. Getting to his feet he went over to the stove and poured a cup of coffee, giving him a few moments to gather his thoughts.

"What you want with him?" he asked the man, lifting the steaming cup to his lips, even though he wasn't sure he'd be able to swallow it down as he was feeling so jittery.

"That mean you know him?"

"Didn't say that but you don't look like you're making a social call and as the law on duty here today I'm makin' it my business as to what you want with this man." Jimmy kept his tone flat and indifferent but the twitch of the man's mouth told him the man had an idea he knew Buck.

"Well now, if it's any concern to you …" the man started to say, when Jimmy interrupted.

"Listen, Mister, when you walked through that door and asked if I knew him you made it my concern."

"Fair enough," the man replied, casually letting a stream of pale blue smoke escape from his mouth and twist its way into the air. "There's a price on his head and I'm a bounty hunter."

"A bounty?" Jimmy exclaimed incredulously. "What for? He's not wanted by the law that I know of and …."

"So, you do know him?" the man said calmly.

Jimmy clamped his mouth shut and glared at the bounty hunter.

"You gonna tell me where I can find the half-breed?" The man flicked the ash from the end of his cheroot before placing in back in the corner of his mouth and casually hooked his thumbs into his gun belt.

"He ain't here."

"Where is he?"

"How should I know?" Jimmy snapped angrily.

"Just askin'," the bounty hunter smirked. "Thought he was a friend of yours."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at him. "Why'd you think that?"

The man shrugged, tipped his hat and turned to leave.

"Wait," Jimmy called out.

The man stopped and half turned back, raising his eyebrows quizzically at him.

"What's he wanted for?" Jimmy asked.

"Murder," came the blunt reply.

Jimmy's mouth dropped open. What the hell had Buck been doing when he went away and why hadn't he told them? "Who's he supposed to have killed?"

"Son of a fella I met."

"Who?"

"He's not from around these parts."

"How much's the bounty?"

"You thinkin' of doin' a little huntin' yourself, deputy?" Brody smirked.

"No!" Jimmy rasped emphatically.

"Would, say $2,000 make you change your mind?" the man queried, with feigned innocence. The glare Jimmy gave him told him the answer.

"Guess I can look forward to spending it all on my own then," he said assuredly, as he tipped his hat, spun on his heel and walked out of the office.

"Who are you?" Jimmy called after him.

"Name's Brody, if you need to find me," the man shot over his shoulder as he walked through the door.

A dumbstruck Jimmy watched him leave, get on his horse, which was tethered outside and ride away. Part of him wanted to go after the man and try and find out more but at the same time he was real glad he'd gone. He stayed rooted to the spot for a few moments, his hand grasping the coffee cup tightly as he calmed himself. What sort of trouble had his friend gotten himself into now? He hadn't seen any flyers out on Buck but that wasn't to say there weren't any, after all they didn't get all of them. Besides, Buck hadn't really told them much about where he'd been after he'd left the Express. He could have travelled as far as the next territory, possibly even further and they wouldn't always get to hear of any bother that distance away.

Buck had been fairly uncommunicative when he had returned and Jimmy had to admit the Kiowa hadn't been himself, looking even thinner than usual, very dishevelled and pretty exhausted. Perhaps something terrible had happened which is why Buck came back and was in such a sorry state, Jimmy concluded. But once back amongst his friends Buck had quickly sorted himself out and got on with his life. Just when it was all going so well, this had to go and happen, Jimmy thought despondently.

There was only one thing to do, he decided - go and find Buck and ask him what this was all about. Besides, he needed to get to Buck before the bounty hunter.

Slamming his coffee cup down on the desk he took some paper and left a scribbled note for Teaspoon, to let him know Buck was in trouble and that he'd gone to find him. He felt confident that Teaspoon would know what to do. Jimmy still had the greatest respect for the older man who always seemed to be able to keep his head in a crisis. He knew he still had much to learn from him.

Once he'd written the note, Jimmy grabbed his hat and coat off the pegs on the wall, took a rifle from the rack and stashed a couple of handfuls of extra cartridges in his pockets. After locking the door he headed off to the livery to get his horse. On the way he checked around town to make sure the bounty hunter had left but could find no sign of him. It was with some relief when he was informed that Brody had been seen riding out of town, in the opposite direction, to which he intended to go. At least Buck would be out of danger for a little while longer.