Wonderful, a young riders fanfic

With apologies to Frank Capra.

"Dear God, Please help my brother…"

"God, Mama's crying…please help Pa…"

"…He's a good man…Look out for him, please…"

"…Help me find my boy…"

"…I don't know what I'd do if…"

It was Christmas Eve in Rock Creek. It was a night for thanks and praising of God and His gift but on this still and crystalline night the voices of the good people of the town, and even outside of its boundaries, were united in one prayer. They asked God's help for one man. The man who most needed assistance on this blessed night was the only one it seemed not asking for it. Not an eyebrow was raised in the heavens above for the soul most in need of comfort is often the soul who fears he least deserves it. And more often still he is the soul who knows not how to ask for it.

That the man would not voice his despair was of no consequence, for those he loved would do it for him. Looking back over the last few turnings of the little blue sphere below and understanding how humans could fret over things brought the picture into view.

The sun beamed down on a bustling and busy scene in the little town. The cheery citizens bustled to and fro, greeting one another with the season's joy, meeting the wagons bringing packages ordered from back east and Bill Tompkins' store was busier than it would see the entire rest of the year. Houses were being prepared for family festivities. Trees were being strung with garlands of popcorn and berries. Men were traipsing through the woods and fields to find a turkey or fat goose for the table…even a freshly killed deer would do to complete the feast. Women baked pies and set them in the larder for the families that would join. Carols were hummed and more smiles were exchanged than could usually be found. It was Christmas and there was much to do.

A pretty brown-haired woman with a curly-headed girl on her hip led a small boy into an office. Her skirts swished along as she walked and her brows knitted together as she bit back a chastisement for the lad to slow down before he tripped and hurt himself. Her husband was always on her about being too overprotective of the children. Boys needed to be free to be boys was what he had said and she should not try to turn Emmett into a girl. She had her Hannah and that should be enough girly stuff for her—until they had more.

The boy ran to the man behind the desk. He was a handsome man with long brown hair and a long mustache obscuring his upper lip but not the smile that formed at seeing the woman and children. The man was tall and broad-shouldered. The star on his chest spoke to a position of power but his physique and eyes that could turn hard and cold without notice spoke of how he enforced that position. The man that those wishing to upset the peaceful state of Rock Creek might meet bore little resemblance to the man who was smiling and lifting the boy onto his lap. The fearsome lawman had more in common with a certain legend created in a work of fiction, a man named Bill. But the man tousling the lad's sandy brown hair was James Butler Hickok—Jimmy to friends and family.

Somewhere far beyond the streets of Rock Creek this scene was being shown back as if in some flip book.

"He's changed—and I don't just mean the mustache."

"Has he? It would seem he's only discovered what was within him the whole time. Did you doubt he was capable of this or that he wanted it less than the next man?"

"I suppose not. The woman looks familiar…that couldn't be…is that Violet Markham?"

"Violet Hickok now…and the children Emmett and Hannah. She doesn't know it yet but there's another on the way. He'll be named for you."

"Me?"

"He wasn't ready to do it when Emmett was born but he will be by the time this one enters the world."

"He looks happy. Why did you send for me?"

"You will be glad for this background. This was yesterday. Yesterday he was happy. He was as happy as he had probably ever been since the night of his wedding when Violet told him she was expecting Emmett. Keep watching. You will understand better than anyone what this all means to him."

"Mama's gonna make chicken for supper, Pa!"

"Is that so?" Jimmy asked smiling. "Are you going to help her?"

"Cooking's for girls!"

"You better never let your Aunt Lou hear you say that…or me again for that matter. I can cook. You've seen me do it. You help your mama now, you hear?"

"Yes, Pa."

Jimmy smiled and roughed up the tyke's hair once more before planting a kiss on Emmett's forehead and setting him on the floor. Next he stood and went to the love of his life. He had somehow known she could be or would be so many years ago. His beautiful Violet…there was no trace of the girl he'd found bleeding and half naked in the woods all those years ago. Long gone were the bruises and now she smiled often and at what seemed like nothing. He'd searched far and wide for where he belonged only to find he belonged right where he started and with the woman he'd known since her youth.

"I ain't complaining but what brings the most beautiful woman for miles to my little office in the middle of the day?" he asked as he deftly took Hannah and swung her onto his hip ignoring the thumb that went into her mouth, the thumb her mother had pulled from her mouth at least five times since they had been there.

"I missed you?"

"Well, I always miss you but you don't always come to see me at work."

"Hannah and I made cookies and after she yelled 'Papa have' for close to an hour I decided we'd better just wrap some up and bring them to you. I think she just wanted to come see you, really."

"Only she did?"

"Maybe I did too," Violet blushed.

"And you said something about cookies?"

"Jimmy, you are as bad as the children," Violet said fishing a cloth wrapped bundle from her satchel. "Those butter cookies you like so much. Hannah helped a lot…didn't you, sweetie."

"I stirred!" the child proclaimed loudly.

"And I let her decorate them too. We had some dried berries. They came out pretty well."

Jimmy looked at the tot in his arms sucking happily on her thumb.

"Before I know it Zuzu here's going to be winning someone's heart with your custard pie recipe."

"Unless I never teach her that recipe…"

"I like the way you think, lady."

They laughed a bit at that and then he kissed her. He kissed her deep and tried to ignore the groaning noise from his son. Hannah giggled in his ear and even removed her thumb from her mouth to clap for them. At least one of the children appreciated having parents who loved each other.

"Zuzu? I thought her name was Hannah."

"We'll get to that. For now all you need to know is that it's what he calls her. No one else does. She'll always treasure that name."

"He's got it all now, don't he?"

"He does…but having much means having much to lose."

"Aww…he can't lose her. She's been in love with him since she was thirteen years old. We all thought it was confused gratitude or something but I suspect it was real love right from the start."

"You suspect correctly. Remember though, that something does not have to be in peril for a man to perceive that it is in peril. He has had a long and hard road to get to where he is. He still doubts often that he is worthy of the gifts his life has showered on him. He carries much guilt."

"He ain't still thinking about that woman in Benton? The one he killed on accident? He tried to get out of that fight. More people would've been hurt if he hadn't've gone out."

"He reconciled that guilt a long time ago. He only seems to haul it out when he is feeling particularly low. It will probably see the light this very night. No…there are many other things for which he carries guilt. You should know that more than most."

"He can't really think…Oh, I see. He was always too hard on himself."

"He was and he still is. That is still not all of his guilt. We have tried to shield him from knowing some things. Violet stood by his side while he banished the whiskey from his body. She's strong, that one—a constant surprise. If he ever knew the way he behaved, things he said. It might not be possible to bring him back."

"Knowing Vi, she probably barely batted an eye."

"Indeed. She's smart too and knew it was not him. She's never breathed a word to anyone about it."

"Will we get to what I need to help him with soon?"

"Patience."

The scene shifted to four years earlier. They were in the old Pony Express station and the main bedroom within. Jimmy had just walked into the room looking tentative. Violet was beaming at him and holding a small bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted but happy.

"How're you feeling?" Jimmy asked looking at her with concern and forcing himself not to stare at the swaddled bundle in her arms.

"Tired…but good," she had replied. She waited for him to settle on the bed next to her and then extended the now slightly wriggling bundle toward him. "Would you like to hold your son?"

Jimmy's eyes shone with tears and pride at the very thought of a son. He looked a little unsure as he cradled the child close but his confidence grew and he held the babe closer to him yet. Jimmy saw Violet's eyes fluttered closed. He held the brand new babe tighter in his arm as he reached one hand down to gently caress his wife's pale and peaceful face.

"I love you, Violet. Don't know if I'll ever be able to explain to you how much."

Her face nudged into his hand in her sleep and she made a murmuring sound of contentment. Jimmy blinked back tears as he stood up and backed out of the room slowly. He whispered to his son out in the hallway.

"You are a miracle, you know that, my son?" his voice choked on the word. The sleeping babe did not stir. "Looking at you...this must be what angels look like. It's hard to imagine your ma and I came together in a time of such ugliness. She was so young, and she had been so hurt. What that monster did to her...I still can't even wrap my head around it, that one person could do that to another. But for all he did to hurt her body, he also did something to her heart, and to mine too. Never thought there'd be a time when I'd deserve her. Deserve a chance to make your beautiful mother whole. That we'd be able to share enough love... well, to make you. I'm standing here looking at your perfect face... I can already see you've got your mama's nose..." Jimmy brought his face close to his son's and breathed in the pure scent of life; a tear escaped the corner of his eye and traveled down his cheek. He cleared his throat and continued. "I think I believe for the first time that maybe your mama and me are strong enough to do just about anything together. Chase all our demons off and live... like we was meant to be, 'cause we made you."

"When did Jimmy turn into such a poet?"

"I think you always knew he had a poet's heart."

The scene shifted back to Jimmy's office, two years before his little Zuzu brought him Christmas cookies. He was reading a letter.

"I'm telling you, Jimmy, this is the life. Never in one place long enough to get bored and forget the money…everyone knows me. I haven't had to buy a drink in longer than I can remember. You guys should come and meet up with the show. Maybe in New York or Philadelphia. I could take you guys out for a night like you've never known. Well, send along my love to Vi and that little one."

Jimmy sighed and put the letter on his desk. He thought of Cody's life. Famous people and fancy hotels and where was Jimmy? Right…Jimmy was behind on repairs to the house. Jimmy was barely keeping the roof patched enough to not leak on his wife and child when it rained. It had seemed such a good idea to move into the old station when they had gotten married.

He and Kid had fixed up much of the pressing issues but had left some others that they didn't have time for. He thought he would have time later but it seemed he never did. He thought he could add onto the small house later but he hadn't done that either. He was perpetually caught somewhere between never enough money and never enough time. Making ends meet took more than the meager salary the town could manage for him. He knew they were doing the best they could by him but he also knew that this wasn't really a job for a family man.

To make up the difference between what he was paid and what he needed, Jimmy took about any job that came along. Only a couple of months before he had earned a little extra by helping Sam Cain track down a band of bank robbers. That had kept them afloat for a little while but the rest of the time he did odd chores here and there. He built fences, he broke horses...he did whatever he could.

He knew their situation could be made easier if Violet returned to school teaching. But she didn't want to. Emmett was still only two. Vi had brought it up once or twice and remarked how Lou would be willing to watch Emmett while she taught. There was such sadness in her eyes when she said it, he would rather break horses around the clock than let his wife hurt like that.

And besides, no offense to Lou, but he didn't want Lou raising his son…not when the boy had a perfectly good mother who wanted to spend her days with him. He sighed heavily.

Seeing Cody would just have to wait until Cody came to visit them. They surely weren't going to be making any trips to points back east any time soon.

Another letter sat on his desk having come a few days before. Jimmy picked that up and looked at it. The printing at the top told all who looked that it was from the Pinkerton Agency. It was a job offer. His eyes kept falling to the amount they proposed to pay him.

"What you got there, boss?" Matt Dunnings, Jimmy's lone deputy, asked as he walked into the office.

"A contract with the devil…Might be about time I took him up on his offer."

"Boss?"

Jimmy stifled a chuckle both at the younger man's confusion and the way Matt always addressed him. For the longest time it seemed Matt would call him nothing but Marshal Hickok and finally Jimmy just couldn't stand it anymore and told Matt that he didn't have to call him that. After a few days of "Mr. Hickok" Jimmy came nearly unglued and snapped that Matt needed to stop being so formal.

They worked together. Matt had come to supper with them a few nights a week -before he met his own gal, a little Irish spitfire, fresh off the boat and bursting with life- Even then, being such a regular part of the Hickok's life, Matt couldn't be persuaded to call Violet anything other than Mrs. Hickok either. She had given up trying to have the lad call her Violet and decided instead to remark at what a polite young man he was and how that would serve him well through his life.

The corners of Jimmy's mouth turned upward thinking of what the fallout would be if he, himself, called her Mrs. Hickok. Oh, she delighted in being his wife, although for the life of him he didn't know why. It was something between them, something that went all the way back to the dark days of the shadow and what began to grown then. Somehow being on a first name basis was the marker for things being alright between them. If he slipped and called her Miss Markham or even now, Mrs. Hickok, she'd sink into a sadness the likes of which he could almost not comprehend. To her ears he would be saying they weren't friends, they weren't close, everything that they had been through had been for nothing.

When Jimmy had blown up at the kid, for really Matt wasn't much more than that, he had bellowed that his name was Jimmy. Still the poor lad couldn't bring himself to ever call him Jimmy but had settled on simply calling him "boss". It worked but it made Jimmy smile all the same.

Presently he cocked his head to the side; he appraised the young man in front of him. He guessed Matt wasn't any younger than Jimmy, himself, had been when he had begun working for the Pony Express. And he certainly wasn't any younger than the first time Jimmy had been sworn in as deputy. Somehow he seemed younger. He shouldn't. He was actually more mature than Jimmy remembered being at that age. A smile played one corner of Jimmy's mouth as he handed the boy the letter from the Pinkerton agency.

The lad's eyes grew wide as he read the letterhead and wider still as Jimmy followed them down to page and inevitably to the salary offer.

"You going to take it, boss?"

"I should. A man should be able to see his family taken care of. A man with a wife as pretty as mine should see her in the finest clothes. You'll feel the same way someday about that young lady you been mooning over, if you don't already. She should have a life like Bill Cody's wife—teas and charity events. That salary there still wouldn't do all that but it'd come closer than this job ever will."

"I really ought to go down there and smack some sense into him."

"With all the violence he's known in his life, that would just be added noise to him. You know that. He loves her. Is it not typical for a human who loves his wife to want to give her the best life he thinks he can?"

"But she don't care about those things."

"She has a better understanding of what is important than he does. Helping him see what she already understands will be part of your task."

"You know you're setting me up for failure. Hickok's a stubborn one."

"So are you. That is why you were chosen for this."

"He doesn't go work for the Pinkertons does he?"

"Keep watching."

"It ain't surprising that they'd want a man like you," Matt said sincerely with every ounce of the hero worship that he felt for his boss and mentor. "Smart and tough as you are…and you did real good helping Marshal Cain chasing down them bank robbers a couple months back."

Jimmy shook his head and sighed. Matt was a smart kid. He'd be a damn fine lawman some day. He'd be far better than Jimmy could ever hope to be. But then sometimes he opened his mouth and reminded Jimmy why that someday wasn't today. Matt still had a lot to learn.

"Sam seemed pleased with my work," Jimmy admitted, "Wife wasn't quite as tickled. She still don't cotton to me being away so much."

He knew, while he was away, she had spent her days at Kid and Lou's and at her folks and even nights in her childhood bedroom. The ghosts there with her parents down the hall were far more bearable than the ones that came for her in their empty home. Most days she didn't seem to be affected by all that happened to her as a girl. Most days he felt as if he had truly helped her to heal. Most days their life was about the future and their son and the love they shared. But when she had to be on her own, truly on her own, the scars from the past reopened to festering wounds.

"I hear you," Matt said jovially. "I think Betty'd throw a fit if I told her I was headed off for something that dangerous and didn't know when I'd be back...Are you going to take the job, boss?"

Jimmy looked at his deputy's curious face. He had forgotten the beginning of this conversation while he pondered on how far Violet had come and yet how far she still had to go. He knew she would probably never be completely free of the fear. He mulled over his deputy's question and ran his hand over his face. He wasn't sure how Teaspoon handled their stupid lot with all their questions and their youth blocking all the answers from them. He only had Matt to deal with and it drove him near to crazy most days.

"The thing is, Matt," Jimmy began as he crossed his hands over his stomach much as Teaspoon once did when explaining the finer points of life to Jimmy and his brothers. "A deal like that looks awful enticing. Money, power…all the things a man like me feels like he's lacking. But ain't nothing given for free but the love of your family. When the time comes to pay, I ain't sure I want to know what the price would be."

The high-minded sentiment, however, didn't stop Jimmy from envisioning all the things that could be changed or improved in his family's life with the job. An air-tight house that kept the warmth in and the cold wind out. A bigger house, with the additions he was planning...It would be nice, that was for sure.

"I don't think I understand, sir."

Jimmy thought hard again. He was going to have to stop his mind from wandering off so much and be more present in this conversation with this young man. He nodded again, remembering where their conversation was.

"You will someday, Matt … and I can tolerate 'boss' but 'sir' is just too much. Am I ever going to get you to just call me Jimmy?"

"I try but…"

"Maybe someday," Jimmy said softly and then returned to his original thoughts. "Anyway…if I went home and told Vi I was moving her somewhere back east to work for Pinkertons of all things, she would have my head and then make me go sleep in the old bunkhouse."

He got silent for a moment and then spoke again, "I should tear that thing down one of these days so she can't threaten me with it anymore."

"I still don't get what you're saying, bo—I mean, Jimmy."
Jimmy smiled.

"It ain't usually a good thing when one person or a small group of people get too much power. Even the nicest people tend to abuse that power. The Pinkerton agency is a perfect example of that. They ain't all bad but I seen 'em do some things I don't know as I'd want to associate myself with. I think I'd have a hard time trying to tell my son what to do if I was attached to the men who act like some of them do."

He paused and looked at the still confused kid in front of him.

"Vi knows their reputation too. I believe I wouldn't have a wife to shower with nice things if she thought I got them behaving like that."

"So you ain't leaving Rock Creek?"

Jimmy pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose fighting exhaustion and a weariness that pulled on his bones. He looked at his deputy with a tired smile.

"Nah, let Cody have the glamour and the money. Suits him better anyway."

With that Jimmy stood and walked out of the office and headed for his home where his wife was nearly finished cooking his supper and his son ran full out into him. It was the life he secretly dreamed of and he dreaded the day that the rest of the world would find out what he already knew and would always know—that he did not deserve any of it and probably never would or could.

Supper was quiet with the exception of Emmett's babbling. Jimmy was mostly lost in thought. But a few questions from Violet brought him from his thoughts and he was telling her of getting the letter from Cody and the news it contained. They talked about how nice it was that Cody was doing so well. Jimmy asked how Violet's day had been. She told him of taking Emmett with her to spend part of the afternoon with her mother and how her mother always tried to spoil him so with treats.

"Honestly, if this one's a girl, I don't want to think of how much worse it could get!"

"This one? This one what?"

"This baby," she said smiling dreamily at him.

"What baby?" he asked looking up at her as she stood behind him to refill his coffee. She set the coffee pot on the table, took his hand and placed it over her still unchanged belly.

"This baby," she said again.

Jimmy stood so abruptly that he knocked his chair over and picked her up swinging her around and kissing her deeply. Emmett giggled the way babies do when something is surprising and they don't know what it means but it looks silly to them.

"Hannah?"

"Hannah."

The scene shifted to Jimmy on the settee with a baby smaller than Emmett by quite a bit. The child was maybe four months old and giggling hard at the faces Jimmy was making at her.

"You think your old Pa's funny, do you?" he asked making another silly face at the child. "Well you ain't seen nothing yet."

The girl stopped giggling and started making a babbling and gurgling sound as if she was trying to talk.

"You don't say? Really? Why, I'll be. I had no idea. Tell me more."

The child gurgled more and made a sound like, "Zuzuzuzu."

"What's that? Zuzu? Well, that is something."

"He still calls her Zuzu?"

"To this very day. There will come a time when many young men will wish to court her. She will have affinity for a number of them but when a certain young man hears this story and dares to call her 'Zuzu', she'll know which she loves most of all."

"That'll go over well with her old man."

"He'll have some adjusting to do but that is a crisis for another day. We need to get him there first. Tonight is a crucial night for your old friend. He's going to consider giving up the greatest gift any human is ever given."

"But he's got so much to live for."

"His eyes will soon become clouded. It is time now to show you the reason we are fielding so many frantic prayers on his behalf."

Once again they came back to the present, looking upon the small office and the man within it. The shadows were growing long and beginning to overtake the world. There was no one housed in the jail cells so both Matt and Jimmy were taking the night off—the next day as well. Sure, if something happened then Jimmy would be right there but he wasn't staying in his office. There was just no need. He and Matt were still close in case of emergencies.

Matt had even protested being sent home before Jimmy himself went but Jimmy had insisted that Matt needed to get home and get ready to spend some time with his girl, Betty. Jimmy shook his head that the two were still together but then he and Violet had been in love a good eight years before they got married. And Matt was in love. Every other word out of the young man's mouth was about Betty. "Betty baked the best cobbler." "Betty made me think something new today." "Betty tells me I am worth something even when I don't feel it." She was a pretty girl, just a little slip of a thing, and a little younger than Matt. The young deputy had confided in Jimmy that this would be the night he would formally ask for her hand in marriage. Matt had talked to her father already and this would be the night he would talk to her.

A feeling of pride began to swell in Jimmy at the thought. Matt had been all of maybe fifteen when Jimmy had taken him on as a deputy. The boy had been recently orphaned; his folks took ill with a sudden fever and died...his sister and younger brother with them. It felt good to see the man Matt had become and was still in the process of becoming. Maybe this was how Teaspoon felt when Kid and Lou got hitched or even when Jimmy had finally married his Violet.

Mostly though, Jimmy was just happy for the kid. He had no one else in the world. He had no real friends aside from Jimmy and nothing he cared for so much in the world but little Betty.

He stood and collected his coat before heading outside. He had one stop to make on his way home. Tompkins had a few things that Violet had bought earlier for their dinner this night but had not taken home. Her arms had been too full of children to carry anything. Jimmy had promised to pick everything up on his way.

Teaspoon was coming for supper that night to celebrate with them. Kid and Lou were bringing their bunch as well. They had hoped Celinda and Nathan would have been able to come but it was not to be. But tonight would be a Christmas Eve feast with carols and candles and Teaspoon telling stories into the night until the children fell asleep on the old man's lap, which he just delighted in.

Tomorrow, he and Violet would spend the day with her parents but tonight was for Jimmy's extended family. For tonight, he needed to put aside all his worries about money and the drafts in the house and how little Zuzu seemed to always have a sniffle.

Doc said it was nothing to worry on and she never seemed to get real sick. Rarely a fever and Doc went on to say as long as things never got into her lungs, that there was nothing to worry about. She rarely coughed and her lungs were always clear but Jimmy knew, he just knew. He knew that if he could provide her with a decent home to live in that she'd stop getting the sniffles so much.

She wasn't the robust child Emmett was and that was fine—she was a girl after all and being dainty wasn't a bad thing. But he felt he needed to work harder to keep her safe and he hadn't been doing enough. Still and all, those thoughts flew somewhere else as he headed for home with thoughts of Violet's cooking and his children singing songs about Christmas and the hugs he would receive filling his head.

As he strolled down the boardwalk whistling some Christmas carol, he heard a ruckus from inside the saloon. Jimmy wasn't going to pay it any mind at all. If Dave, the barkeep, thought there was any real reason for concern, he'd have sent someone to fetch Jimmy.

Of course, once the disturbance spilled onto the boardwalk and even into the street complete with punches thrown and guns drawn, Jimmy had to do something. He quickly drew his Colts yelled sharply and authoritatively, drawing the mob's attention.

He glared down at the throng, pinpointing five or six rough faces he didn't recognize as locals. He stared them down the hardest. It felt like half the town was assembled below him, but it couldn't really be since most folks were home with their families—where he wanted to be as well.

The ruckus momentarily stopped and Jimmy's eyes flitted to those around him. He expected that there wouldn't be trouble from the faces familiar to him. Paul could take his boys and go home. Robert needed to collect his wife's things from Tompkins' also, as usual, and that would be a good chunk of this rowdy group. Damn, last minute things for Vi—Jimmy gave himself a mental shake. Focus, Hickok, damn it! These rough faced strangers worried him. They seemed unaffected by his presence and held their weapons, ready to fire.

"Most of you ain't got business out here tonight," he hollered, "You ought to be home with your families. Pete, I see Dolores standing in the door waiting for you. Better place to be spending Christmas Eve than out here getting your skull beat in—or worse." He made stern eye contact with the aforementioned Paul and Robert, and watched them lower their heads and walk away to their respective residences.

To Jimmy's great relief most of the actual residents of the town began to leave granting him the ability to only have to concern himself with the men he did not know. Those men had not lowered their guns. Those men were all around and he had half an idea that at least one was behind him. There had been five... or was it six? He hadn't gotten a good head count when the commotion spilled outside the saloon.

Jimmy tried to keep his focus on the matter at hand. He tried to keep his eyes steely as he glanced around taking stock of his situation. He tamped down his jealousy at his fellow townsmen who were able to walk away from this situation. He had to get these outsiders under control. He was not about to let them ruin the town's Christmas Eve. Damn it, they were about to ruin his own Christmas Eve. Though, probably not much more than he already had. By now, he was late with Vi's packages from Tompkins'. Did she need help with dinner? Was the stove acting alright for her? Jimmy, focus! These ruffians needed to be taught a lesson. If he arrested them would he then have to stay in the office tonight? If he let them go would they make more trouble for the town? Vi would kill him if he weren't home tonight. His family was gathering right now, and he was here, with these hardened men at gunpoint. Who the hell was the leader? He damn sure needed to get home from this intact. He refused to be the cause of any more heartbreak for the love of his life. How could he handle this situation the best way?

He tried to read the expressions of the surly looking men around him, tried to remember how many there had been, tried to see if they were guardedly watching someone behind him, tried to hear if there was someone behind him. He internally cursed himself for sending Matt home earlier. If they had left at the same time, they would have walked a little ways together and would have come across this scuffle together. They were a pretty good team and knowing that Matt would already have his eye on his back would have been a comfort right about then.

He heard soft footsteps behind him and the unmistakable sound of a pistol being brought from his housing. It was all he could do to not turn right then and fire. He needed to try to read the faces of the men he could see. He needed to get home to Vi. One, who seemed to be the leader, at least by consensus, sneered at him.

"Wild Bill, eh? Don't look so wild. Heard you was easy enough to tame that a woman could do it. Some schoolteacher they say. I think the boys and I will just do what we please as long as there's only this here acting as law."

The words stung. Jimmy cocked the hammer and leveled his Colt at the thug.

"Try it," Jimmy growled, silently thanking Sam Cain for his law enforcement wisdom when he first met the gruff marshal.

This was not the first man to equate the changes in his life with weakness. He kept his eyes on the men he could see in front of him and his ears tuned to the still approaching footsteps from behind. Whatever the man said, there was an amount of fear behind his eyes that said he wouldn't be drawing down on Jimmy tonight. The leader lowered his eyes and weapon. The others followed suit, reluctantly. Jimmy didn't.

Jimmy began to wonder if the purpose of the men in front of him was to act as a distraction from the one behind, the one he could not see, the one whose gun was drawn and at the ready. If only Jimmy could see the man, see his eyes…know if the drawn pistol was a bluff or not. Or, better yet, if only Matt was right there to help him out.

When Jimmy heard the hammer going back behind him, he could not wait any longer. He spun and fired and saw the shape of a man fall.

Once the smoke from the shots cleared a little, what he saw made him sick. The ornery looking men from the saloon were forgotten. They could hash out their own problems. They could kill each other for all he cared. Lying in the street in front of Jimmy was Matt. Only the month before Matt had celebrated his eighteenth birthday. And now he was motionless on the ground with a single hole in his gut.

"NO!" Jimmy ran to his deputy and fell to his knees next to the unconscious form. He hoped to God that Matt was just unconscious. Jimmy stared at the boy until he saw the tiniest movement indicating breath.

"Don't you die on me, Matt." Jimmy grabbed his deputy by the lapels. His voice shook and cracked and he was sure that his eyes were spilling over. He took a breath and yelled angrily at the limp form. "Don't you dare die on me! Damn it…you can't..."

He pulled the young man, heedless of the substantial weight of the slim yet muscular man, and hoisted him over his right shoulder. Jimmy glanced around quickly to get his bearings, then ran as quickly as he could with the weight of two, for the doctor's office. One of the local men had just roused the doctor, allowing for Jimmy to come through the open door and gingerly lay Matt on the nearest bed for the Doctor to examine.

The doctor assessed the injured man closely, cutting the clothing from around the wound.

"Doc?" Jimmy asked, devastated. He couldn't bring himself to look the medical practitioner in the eye. "He's going to be alright, right?"

The doctor just looked down and sighed heavily before saying, "I can't say for sure but it doesn't look good."

Jimmy stood there, his dark shirt wet with his deputy's blood, unable to process the doctor's words. Doc Jenkins put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder and squeezed before turning back to the young man on the bed.

"Go on home to your family," the doctor said, "There's nothing for you to do. I'll be sure to let you know if anything changes."

He was just a boy. Jimmy left the doctor's in a daze. A boy who had just turned eighteen. A hard working boy, just trying to prove to the world that he was worth something. He had Betty, sweet little thing that she was, just as in love with him as he was with her. It was to be the two of them against the world. He had no family but her. This was his dream job, in law enforcement. He was a good kid, hardworking and eager. Sometimes a little over-eager, but, Jimmy had thought of him as a younger brother, since he had none of his own. The young man reminded Jimmy of another Matt. The new Pony Express recruit. Jimmy had mentored that boy, too. He had felt the same way about that cocky and headstrong young man as well. Jimmy felt responsible for him, and that kid had died. Maybe not at Jimmy's hand, but many days, it felt like it. It felt like Jimmy had failed him. Just like he did today with his deputy.

Before Jimmy knew, he found himself in his office. He sat heavily in his chair without bothering to light a lamp and opened the bottom desk drawer. He knew what was there. Teaspoon had left it and Jimmy knew it was quite by mistake that he had. But it had sat there untouched.

He pulled the bottle from the drawer and a glass with it. He stared at them both and closed his eyes. He had quit drinking for the chance to be something else. Images flashed through his mind. The woman—that innocent woman—crumpling into the dirt of the street in Benton, gunned down by Jimmy's hand…the grave in Fenton…Matt Rawlins' grave. Innocent people he failed. A woman he didn't even know and he killed her. A young man barely seeing life and he didn't teach him well enough. Now poor, young Matt Dunnings would die too. Because of him. His existence. His life.

Why wasn't Matt getting ready to see Betty? Why hadn't he already been on one knee asking for her dainty hand? And if he wasn't home getting ready to ask his girl to marry him then why hadn't Matt told him he was there? If Jimmy had known…well, he wouldn't have been as jumpy and he sure the hell wouldn't have fired at the kid. It was Matt's own fault really. He should have said something, let Jimmy know he wasn't out there all alone with the guys from the saloon, let Jimmy know it was friend and not foe sneaking up behind him. Stupid kid! Stupid probably going to die kid!

As soon as those barely formed thoughts passed through his mind he rejected them. It wasn't Matt's fault ultimately. Only his inexperience, his lack of training, and there was only one person he could blame for that. Jimmy could hear Matt's voice accusing him. The words and blood gurgling up his throat as he took his last breath. "You killed me".

He tried to shove that aside but couldn't. It was true even if the real Matt would never be conscious to say the words and even if the kid would never have said them at all. It was true. He had killed him. He took him in, put on a nice show of helping the poor little orphan boy out and in the end taught him just enough to get him shot.

Slowly, as though performing in a macabre parade of death, every person who had died at his hand began passing before his eyes. He fought against the horrifying vision, shaking his head in a vain attempt to rid himself of the terrifying spectre. One by one, their lifeless bodies appeared, oozing blood from their wounds, their cold eyes staring at him blankly. Gradually, their lifeless orbs began burning with an accusing fire of hatred as they began chanting, voices growing louder with each abhorrent breath,

"You killed me!"

Growling as he shoved the glass aside, he took a gulp with shaking hands from the bottle wincing at the sting of the liquid going down his throat. It had been a long time. It had been years actually since he'd tasted this…nearly five, he guessed. But he needed it now. Just needed one, maybe two...just to calm his nerves. That was what he told himself. And it was working too. His hands stilled and ceased their wild shaking. He leaned back against the chair for a few moments and closed his eyes. The accusing voices were quieting now.

He could feel the warmth beginning from his stomach start to spread out through his arms and legs calming him as his pulse slowed, and a tingling that spread through limbs, all the way out to his fingertips and toes. It was like the gentle caress of an old lover who knew just how to touch him and where. He took a deep breath, savoring the warm tingling as it spread slowly throughout his body. He realized he couldn't remember what was so bad about the stuff anyway. He wasn't going to end up passed out in the street from a swallow or two of whiskey. It's not like he would down the whole bottle. A drink or two now and then-when things got difficult, like tonight-could surely do no harm.

Jimmy took another swig of the stinging amber liquid, savoring the heady, almost erotic physical response to the relaxant, before stopping the bottle and heading out into the night air.

"I thought you said it nearly killed him to quit drinking before."

"It did."

"Idiot."

"Your feelings are understandable but that attitude will not help him when the time comes."

Before he even got to the doctor's office, Jimmy could feel the frenzied tension emanating from the other side of the door. He took a few much needed deep breaths before he turned the doorknob. No one was in the waiting area but through the open door to the patient area, he saw Doctor Jenkins and his wife working at a hurried pace to patch up the young deputy, in a race against the clock to save his life. Mrs. Jenkins glanced up at the darkened doorway and saw Jimmy's haggard frame.

She was older like the doc but was still a pretty woman with a sweet smile. She hurried over to him, ushering him out into the waiting area. Jimmy stubbornly refused to budge from his perch, shrugging her hand off his shoulder.

"Marshal Hickok," she said softly and with a nearly chastising edge. "There's nothing you can do here."

Jimmy shook his head in disagreement, "I need to be here. I can't leave him. He's got no family. I'm his only …." He trailed off, realizing, "I'm his only friend." And I shot him, his head finished for him.

Mrs. Jenkins patted the young marshal's cheek sweetly with an understanding smile, "Young Matthew is in the best hands possible. My Andrew is doing all he can for the lad."

"He said it didn't look good," Jimmy replied helplessly.

"It doesn't," she said flatly. "But tonight is a night of miracles, a night when God most shows His love for us. It is a night of answered prayers. It doesn't look good but I have a good feeling all the same. You go on home now. That lovely wife of yours is going to be worried sick…and don't you have dinner guests coming?"

Jimmy nodded slowly, hanging his head.

"You'll send someone straight away if there's news?"

She nodded and offered a smile.

"And Betty? Has someone gone to fetch Betty?"

"Our daughter and her family have been visiting for the holiday. Caroline is with Betty now. There's nothing for her to do here either. But she's not alone. I promise you and Betty will both know the moment there is anything at all to report."

The woman offered a tender smile. In it was every assurance that he wasn't a bad man, that she bore no judgment toward him. Jimmy knew better though. He knew what he was and what he'd done. His head dropped once more as he turned to leave. He paused momentarily when she spoke.

"Merry Christmas, Marshal."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Jenkins." he replied automatically, feeling numb all over.

He stepped out the door reluctantly, turning towards the office, as Mrs. Jenkins gently closed the door in his face. He stared through the glass, his heavy breath fogging his line of sight until he moved to another pane. His heart felt like it had been replaced with a cold hard rock and was just as heavy. When he had fogged up all the windows with guilt-ridden breath, he slowly turned and began the long, arduous fifty yard walk to his house. He didn't notice the growing chill in the wind that whipped his hair and his coat about.

"I like her."

"We are all quite fond of Mathilda. She is walking proof that one need not ascend to heaven to be an angel."

As Jimmy approached his house his tensions eased a bit, aided by his liquid courage. Violet would be there and Violet would know what to say. Violet always knew what to say. Violet always knew how to make things better. He should see himself as weak for relying so heavily on her but he preferred to think of himself as wise enough to marry a woman smarter than himself.

He made it in the door just barely before being descended upon by his family. On any other day he would have taken great joy from the hugs and kisses and questions. But today it grated at him. Today he just wanted the kids to be somewhere else so he could talk to his Vi. He wanted her to tell him it was alright. He could believe it if she said it.

"Where are the packages, Jimmy?" Violet asked narrowing her eyes as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it up.

"I…I, uh…I guess I forgot," he mumbled weakly. She looked to be frazzled to a fare-thee-well and about to have plenty to say about his faulty memory when he was already late getting home and guests would be arriving soon but he spoke before she could.

"Where's Zuzu?"

He looked around and Emmett was nearly bouncing off of the walls with excitement but his little girl was nowhere to be seen.

"She has a little sniffle," Violet said stiffly. "I thought it best if she took a little nap before the family came over."

Jimmy had yet to look Vi in the face and if he had he might have been turned to stone where he stood. She was getting more frustrated with his detached manner by the second. But he still didn't look at her, just nudged her gently to let him through so he could see his baby.

"Papa!" the child cried sitting up and reaching for him.

"Hey there my sweet little Zuzu," he replied, his voice trembling. "Mama says you ain't feeling too good."

"Hug Papa!" she said smiling and holding up her arms. He could not resist wrapping her in his arms and delighting that she was still so little she fit perfectly. He held her to his heart, feeling his emotions start to thaw after a few moments. They were raw and ragged. Hannah finally started to squirm. He relaxed his grip and glanced over her watery eyes and runny nose. He took a handkerchief and wiped his little girl's face.

She wrinkled her nose, "Papa smew bad."

He sighed, knowing he shouldn't have come in smelling like whiskey. His angel shouldn't have to smell it on any man, especially her father. He nodded, cupping her cherubic cheek in his hand.

"I know I smell bad. Been a little bit of a hard day today. Will you get some rest for me?"

"No seepy," she frowned.

"Then don't sleep. Just close your eyes and rest 'em a bit."

She nodded and he settled her back down and tucked her blankets tight around her.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Wuv Papa," she mumbled around the thumb in her mouth.

"He has had a rotten night, hasn't he? At least he still has all this. Hannah there don't look like she's too poorly off. Should help him through the rest being here."

"Perhaps it should but I think you know him better than that, don't you?"

"Yeah…I guess I do. Why can't he just...I don't know, accept that he's human and it was an accident? Be happy?"

"You know that answer already."

Jimmy's shoulders slumped as he left the room. He knew Zuzu would be alright but still, she probably wouldn't even be sick if not for this old drafty house. He didn't know what possessed him to think this could be a home fit for Violet or for children.

"Pa! Pa!"

Jimmy looked down at Emmett tugging on his pant leg. He nodded and rubbed his temples. His head was beginning to throb.

"Pa! Mama says Santa's coming!"

"Yeah…I guess he is." Jimmy felt his right eyelid start to twitch. He couldn't remember the last time it did that. He nodded and pushed at his eyelid with his fingertip as his thumbs continued rubbing his temples.

"And…and she says Uncle Kid and Aunt Lou are coming for supper too!"

The cold and drafty house was suddenly many degrees too warm and Emmett's shrill young voice was a blade cutting right through his head. He knew he was imagining it but still he was nearly sure that he saw the walls moving to close in around him.

"And Pa…"

"Damn it, Emmett!" Jimmy bellowed, "Can't you let a man have three whole minutes to himself?"

His voice echoed in the suddenly quiet house.

He watched the boy's face begin to crumble and knew it was time to leave. It had been time to leave before he ever walked in the door. He shouldn't have come home at all. He shouldn't have had those drinks. He shouldn't have shot his deputy, either. He started thinking of all the things he shouldn't have done: married Violet, carried her home when she was thirteen, shouldn't have pulled his gun on that Marcus fellow. His brain stumbled over itself to show him all the things he shouldn't have done in his life. Memory after memory coursed through his head, one after another. He realized he shouldn't be here at all. Everyone would be better off without him tonight. He was not in any frame of mind to be around the innocence his wife and family represented.

Jimmy stumbled to the door and grabbed his coat. Violet's angry face appeared between him and the door.

"What do you think you are doing, Jimmy Hickok?" she demanded. He sighed loudly, running his fingers through his hair. She got a powerful whiff of his breath.

"James Butler Hickok," she hissed, eyes narrowed. "Tell me I don't smell what I think I smell..." she trailed off, seeing his eyes, not ready to retort in anger, but rather wounded, ashamed, frightened and lost. He saw the recognition overtake her face and, for the first time in five years-longer than that if he thought about it-he shuttered his eyes from his wife.

"Jimmy," she nearly whispered placing her hand on his right shoulder. "What is it? What's wrong? You've never been like this before."

"Vi…just let me go." He shrugged her hand off violently.

"Talk to me…it can be alright. I didn't go through all that with you so you could run back to the bottle when things got tough. I watched you nearly die because of it. I saw you become someone who would have made you sick. I heard things come out of your mouth that you'd shoot a man for saying to a whore. I did it so you'd never be prisoner to the bottle again. I did it so you'd come to me, so you'd let me help you. Whatever this is...we've been through worse...or at least as bad. Please, don't go, don't turn from me…stay with me and we'll talk."

"I—I can't. You can't handle it," he ground out hoarsely.

Violet opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him that he was not the final say on what she could or could not handle when she looked at her hand. There were dark red smears where her hand had rested on his shoulder. His black shirt had hidden something from her.

"Jimmy, is this…blood?"

With a resolute shake of his head, he was past her and out the door. He couldn't stay. The twist in his gut, the feeling of panic grew with every passing second. His family wasn't safe. No one was safe when he was around. He let the door slam behind him without a backwards glance.

She was poor because of him. The baby, his baby, was sick because of him. His deputy was dying because of him.

He should never have married Violet. She was beautiful and meant for better. She should have married some nice, stable man...a doctor or maybe a banker like her father. Her father. That man had trusted him against his better judgment. Jimmy remembered his impassioned speech to Tom Markham. It turned his stomach. He would love her, he promised. No one could love her more than he could, he promised. At the time that had seemed enough. It wasn't. He knew that now and cursed himself for not knowing it earlier.

His mind swirled to what she must have gone though when he was ridding his body of whiskey. It was something he had thought little on. At the time, he had been so grateful to be alive and still have her with him; he hadn't ever thought to question what it was like. She had seemed happy he was alright again so she never brought it up either. He had seen other men in the process. They cursed and became violent. She hinted tonight and he knew it was only a product of her panic and fear for him that she had. What had he done? What had he said? How completely had he failed her?

He shouldn't have brought those children into the world either. They were pure and perfect and it wasn't their fault their pa was such a failure. And he was a failure. He was always a failure. He had failed his mother, his sisters and countless others before.

Running he felt almost like he was leaving his failures in the snow beginning to fall and swirl in the harsh wind. He'd never truly leave them behind. He had no right to expect such a thing. His whole life was a shambles and he had made the same out of every life he had touched. He had no right to his misery. He wasn't shot. He had done the shooting. He had killed an innocent man. No, worse...he had killed a man coming to his aid. He had once insisted that he was dangerous, that he was akin to poison for anyone who got close. His friends, those he counted closer than family even, had insisted just as strongly that he was wrong. He was a good man, they said. He had a good heart, they said. He could rise beyond his past, they said. He'd love to blame them now but it was no one but himself who had still decided to marry sweet Violet. No one but himself who took on the task of training Matt Rawlins to ride for the Pony Express. No one but James Butler Hickok who had thought to rescue young Matt Dunnings from his life as an orphan and teach him the ways of the law and deputize him. He wanted to believe what his friends said about him so badly he was willing to gamble with Violet, with his deputy...with his children.

Looking up, he found himself in front of the saloon. He had nothing left to lose. He had been deluding himself by acting like he was anything other than what he was. A heartless killer. He walked in. The couple swallows of whiskey earlier had been enough to quiet his nerves—to take the edge off. But now he was a man with a mission. If everything was going to be lost, he was going to cling to the only thing that had ever seen him through before, the only friend or lover whose life he couldn't ruin.

Jimmy took no notice of the wary glances that went around the saloon at his entrance. Even Dave, who was unflappable, seemed to not quite know what to do. The barkeep pasted a smile on his face though and spoke almost tentatively.

"Didn't expect to see you in here tonight, Jimmy. Thought for sure you'd be celebrating the holidays with your family."

Dave looked up and was clearly unnerved by the silence coming from the town's marshal. Anger and fear and outright danger were rolling off of Jimmy in waves.

Dave swallowed hard and timidly choked out, "Sarsaparilla?"

Jimmy shook his head as he leaned heavily against the bar.

"Whiskey. Leave the bottle."

"Jimmy…I know it's been a rough night but…"

"I ain't in the mood for a nursemaid, Dave." Jimmy growled under his breath through curled lips, turning his steely gunman's gaze on the bartender. Dave raised his eyebrows but placed a glass and bottle on the bar. If things weren't still so rowdy in the place he would have slipped away to get someone to help. He knew Teaspoon was close and Kid was expected in town that night. They'd known the man far longer and maybe could even reason with him.

But things were still busy and Dave dared not leave. Being Christmas, he had only the barest of staff working and that meant only one burly chap acting as security. Dave didn't think it wise to leave the whole place in that man's hands or take the chance of running the place with no one.

Dave watched helplessly as Jimmy threw back first one and then another shot of whiskey. When Teaspoon was still the law, Dave had been under orders to never serve this man anything harder than a sarsaparilla. But Teaspoon wasn't in charge, Jimmy was. Maybe it even wouldn't even be so bad. One night wasn't going to undo years of sobriety. He could wake up Christmas morning with a whale of a headache and swear right off the stuff again. Surely he wasn't the first drunk to slip a little.

Well, it wouldn't have been so bad if the marshal hadn't started glaring at the bar's occupants. He looked like he was spoiling for a fight, and Dave wasn't having it. He pulled the bottle back behind the counter. Jimmy's head whipped around and he stared Dave down through his eyebrows. The marshal opened his mouth to growl a command, but the words that echoed throughout the bar were not from him.

"Why? Why did ya have to go an' shoot 'im?"

Both Dave and Jimmy turned towards the door and the sharp Irish brogue, lilting and accusing, to watch a red-haired little slip of a girl storm in, green eyes flashing with anger and betrayal. Before Jimmy could comprehend what was happening, she had already pulled her arm back and her fist was meeting his mouth forcefully, jerking his head back and splitting his lip. His hand shot up to his face, belatedly, to protect himself. He touched the back of his hand to his lip and saw blood. He licked his lip as he watched the little wisp of a person continue to rake him over the coals.

"All he ever did was worship the ground ye walked on! I tried ta talk to him about movin' to a bigger town, gettin' a better job, but all he talked about, all he EVER talked about was working for Marshal Hickok! What a great man y'are! What an amazin' boss! He worshipped you and your family, and I found myself beginnin' ta understand how he felt."

She got dangerously close to him, ignoring his darkening countenance and his gathering eyebrows.

"But now, look at 'im! Bleeding, dying, and at yar hand! And what are ye doing?! Not sitting by his side prayin' ta the good Lard for 'im! Yer drinkin like a fish, like it don't matter if he lives or dies! Like yer celebratin'!"

Jimmy's shame overtook him, but was quickly replaced by anger. Being called to account by his own wife was one thing, but now, he was being called to account by a bit of a girl who knew nothing. His anger towards Dave for taking his bottle away refocused on the tiny carrot screaming shrilly at him.

He grabbed her upper arm, growling threateningly, "Don't you think I know that?"

He jerked her towards him, wrapping his other hand around her other arm.

"Do you think I wanted to shoot him? Do you?!" He squeezed his fingers, hurting her arms. Tears sprang into her eyes. "You don't know nothing about me! Nothing! Not you, or Matt, or anyone!"

He released one of her arms and waved his hand over the now silent bar. Looking back at her, he saw the tears swimming in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. She looked smaller suddenly. She was scared. He was scaring her. Her head wasn't a frizzy red anymore. It was Violet's chocolaty brown wavy tresses. Her eyes were Violet's beautiful deep brown. He released her other arm in shock. He was now scaring little girls because of his own torment? Had he become the thing he had been fighting against since Violet was thirteen? He was now the bringer of terror to young girls. He was the shadow.

He started shaking. His hands trembled. Hell if he was going to show weakness in front of this bar full of people. He roared in frustration at the quaking girl, and she screamed in fear.

"Marshal," Dave addressed him softly, in the ensuing silence. "Get out."

The bartender had moved behind the girl, ready to defend her, even against the lawman, if necessary.

Jimmy glared at him, "Don't you tell-"

"GET OUT!" Dave roared, pointing at the door. He pulled the sniffling woman behind him and stood toe to toe with Jimmy.

"You've done enough tonight. Stop scaring little girls and go sleep it off."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Dave, before turning angrily and walking out. He stumbled towards his office, the heaviness of his limbs making his way difficult. Spotting Sundance outside the office, Jimmy remembered he was supposed to bring something home to Vi. Otherwise the horse would have been at home, happily munching hay and oats in the warmth of the barn. He couldn't remember what, though. But by now, he was sure he had already ruined everything for her. She wouldn't want to see him again. She wouldn't want to have his failure stinking up the whole house. Not when she was having family and friends over. Or maybe not ever.

Jimmy ran his hand over his horse's side.

"It's just you and me, kid," he muttered, slowly, clumsily taking the reins and hoisting himself up on the animal's back. He settled into the saddle, leaning over the horn, and clicked out of the side of his mouth to get him moving. The confusing signals from Jimmy, who was holding the reins too tightly and making the sound to go, made Sundance start out slowly. He ambled gently down the road towards the end of town, trying to keep his rider on straight.

His heart cried out for him to turn around. His wife needed him. His children need him. He knew better. No one needed him. He had destroyed enough lives. Violet, his sweet, loving Violet. She was probably too damn loving, she didn't even know what was good for her. She kept staying with him when everyone could see she would be completely better off without him. If not for him, she'd probably be happily married with a doctor or a lawyer, someone who would recognize her smarts and make her feel useful, instead of keeping her trapped in the house raising the kids and not using her skills to benefit society. Someone who wouldn't keep her trapped in a cold, drafty, gloomy, miserable tiny house like he was. She deserved so much better. He could love her until the stars fell out of the sky, but that wouldn't keep her warm, fed, safe. He never could keep her safe from the danger he knew was lurking. Even when it was his sole purpose in life, he still couldn't keep her safe. She was taken right out from under his nose in her own damn bedroom. Obviously he was not the one who should have that job.

He should have known, though. From the very beginning, he was terrible at keeping people safe. His mother, who needed him when he was a boy when all he could do was listen to her cries for his father to stop, please, just stop, as he heard sharp sounds of pain and punishment. Hiding under his bed as his sisters hid under theirs. Crying tears of helpless frustration and rage. He couldn't do anything to help them. He didn't do anything to help them.

He imagined that even Kid's brother would be alive if it weren't for him. He should have known Kid wasn't in any danger from the rebel. If Jimmy hadn't been there, the outlaw probably would be in prison, but at least he would still have been in Kid's life. He would still be alive for Kid to talk to, to connect with. Now Kid was truly without family.

The two Matts. What were the odds that the second young 'un Jimmy mentored would be named Matt, and that Jimmy would be responsible for his death as well? It was almost as though the powers that be were trying to send him a message. Over and over. Jimmy decided he was beginning to get it. His continued existence was not healthy for anyone around him.

The image of Lou with a noose around her neck suddenly flashed before his eyes, and he pulled hard on Sundance's reins. God, Lou. Of course Lou. He yelled at her, before he even knew she was a girl, just like he had done the little girl in the saloon just now. He had sworn to himself he would never do that to a lady again. Lou, so brave and strong, yet so vulnerable and soft. In a noose of his own making. He might as well have knocked her over the head and put her in it himself. His desire to see her as an equal probably put her in harm's way more often than Kid's protectiveness of her. He was beginning to see the logic to Kid's methods.

Jimmy started to wonder if his even being born was a mistake God made, and now everyone around him was paying for it.

So many died or were injured simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that wrong place was anywhere near him. That wrong time was while he was alive.

His memories were ruthless, and tormenting. Brad. Bulldog. The woman he shot in Benton, whose name he could not recall. Jesse, young Jesse James, sprinting towards an early grave, despite everything Jimmy ever said to him, because Jesse wanted to be just like Wild Bill Hickok.

Jimmy closed his eyes and swayed. The motion of his horse was making him sick; his thoughts were making him sicker. He looked around him. He was just outside the town, by the river. Soft snow fell, covering his hair and his lashes, but he barely felt it. He dismounted Sundance, leaned against his mane and listened. The rushing of the icy water, the wind creaking in the trees. It was almost as if the very nature around him mourned for him, and cried out for peace, silence... an end.

The words stopped him cold. An end. If he wasn't around... If a bullet found him, instead of finding everyone else he cared about... If he didn't just wait for his destiny to take him, but if he grabbed his destiny by the throat and found his end on his terms... The faces flashed before him again, faster now, blurring as his heart raced and tears fell unheeded... Matt's lifeless body, blood pouring from his wound, Betty's accusing eyes, then Violet's... God, Violet. Her very name made his knees buckle. He didn't fight it. He fell to the ground. Even now she was probably realizing what he knew all along. He didn't deserve her or the life he had built with her. She would be better off if...

His thoughts were a jumble as his trembling hand reached for his Colt. He stared at the weapon as the metal glint in the moonlight. It was an extension of himself, so deadly. He had seen it end life too quickly, too many times, but now, finally, he could make it right so many wrongs. He raised the gun slowly, placed it under his chin. His finger twitched on the trigger as he opened his eyes to the night sky. He saw stars... twinkling...

"Forgive me, Violet"

A loud CRACK! rent the air. Jimmy jerked around at the startling sound as Sundance reared up and dashed off. A sudden change in the wind blew snow directly into Jimmy's face, blinding him momentarily. Jimmy's head whipped around looking for the source of the sound.

"What the-?"

"She wouldn't forgive you, Jimmy. You pull that trigger, you're a bigger fool than I ever took you for."

Jimmy blinked. Rubbed a hand over his eyes, then blinked again. Did he already pull the trigger? He couldn't remember any pain, but he must be dead. There was no other explanation for what he was currently seeing.

"Noah?"

"In the flesh! Or rather, as 'in the flesh' as they allow me to be to help you, my friend."

Jimmy started patting himself up and down, trying to find where the hole was that the bullet must have put in him. Or at least to see if his head was actually still attached to his shoulders, and if it was, then maybe he had just lost it on the inside. With how his day had been going, he would not have been surprised

"Jimmy."

He looked around hoping someone else with Noah's voice had said his name.

"Jimmy!"

The confused man couldn't see anyone else around but this….this….Noah looking apparition. Jimmy leveled his colt at it, menacingly.

"Whoa, Jimmy, man! I'm not sure you want to waste the lead, but if you must, you must."

Jimmy narrowed his eyes at the thing that looked like his friend.

"What the hell?" He rasped through his emotion filled throat.

"Jimmy, it's me! Noah!"

"I can see that," he cocked the hammer on his gun. His other hand scrubbed his face, wondering just how much he'd had to drink and if they had changed the formula for whiskey in the last several years. He couldn't remember seeing dead people before when he drank.

"Jimmy, I'm an angel."

Jimmy scoffed, "And I'm President Lincoln." He smirked at his wit.

Noah's eyebrows shot up. "Well, then Mr. President, I would love to shake your hand and say, on behalf of all the colored people in this country, thank you. Thank you so damn much!"

A gust of snowy wind blew into Noah's face. He sighed in exasperation.

"It was a joke!" He yelled at the sky. The wind died down. Noah shook his head, looking into Jimmy's wide eyes. "Sheesh, you swear once in heaven, they watch you for the rest of eternity!"

"Noah?" Jimmy's sight swam momentarily as snow, he told himself, filled his face and eyes. He whispered, "Noah? Is that-?"

"It's really me, Jimmy," he cracked a bright smile, that gleamed brighter in the dark, calling to Jimmy's mind all the jokes they had made about nighttime excursions and how he needed to smile for Jimmy to see him in the dark. "Can you see me now?"

Jimmy huffed an incredulous laugh, as he uncocked his gun and holstered it, slowly coming closer to his friend's figure.

"Noah," he whispered wonderingly. Jimmy reached out his hand and touched his friend's warm face with his fingertips. The whip wielder smiled a lopsided grin with misty eyes.

"You are having a rough time, I see, Jimmy."

Jimmy looked into Noah's kind brown eyes.

"What are you doing here, Noah?" He couldn't get himself to stop saying the name of the man who was not just like a brother to him, but some days-well, most days- it felt like they were twins. When Noah had died, Jimmy remembered as if it was yesterday, it was like a large chunk of himself had been cut off and buried in the ground also. Jimmy's wet face would not respond to the constant rubbing he was doing to it, to try and dry it just a little. He had never felt completely whole after Noah…

"I'm your angel, man."

Jimmy snickered.

"Yeah, right. Wanna try again?"

Noah sighed and shook his head. He knew Jimmy's wonder wouldn't last long, but all of seven seconds was a little fast, even for Jimmy.

"I'm your guardian angel, Jimmy. I'm here to help you."

Jimmy looked at him skeptically, "You are my 'Angel' and you're here to rescue me?"

Noah shrugged, "Well, when you say it like that... it just sounds stupid."

"Ahhh, good, so it's not just me."

Noah glared at his...well, the closest thing he'd ever had to a brother.

"Damn it, Jimmy."

Another gust of snow filled air whooshed into Noah's face.

"He started it!" He yelled, pulling his hat up from his back where it had fallen to when the wind blew and placing it back on his head. Jimmy looked up and around.

"Who're you talking to?"

Noah looked at him blankly, but Jimmy had the feeling he was studying him closely.

"No one."

Jimmy nodded slowly, "Alright...so….why are you here? Are you haunting me?"

Noah closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, smoothed his finger and thumb over his eyebrows, then tapped his forehead with his finger. Jimmy raised his eyebrow. That was the dumbest thing he'd ever seen a person do-tap his face with his own fingers.

"Ya know what, Jimmy? Never mind. Just tell me what the hell is up with the gun in your hand and you all alone out here. I don't see no bank robbers, and you ain't tracking nobody at this time of night."

Jimmy shook his head and looked down, "You wouldn't understand. Nobody would."

Noah nodded his head, sagely.

"Right, 'cause a dead person that sees everything everyone is doing all over the world would have no idea what his brother is going through."

Jimmy sighed and glared at the man.

"Alright! You want to know what is going on? You want to know why the world doesn't need me? Cause everyone I come near gets hurt or is dead! Anyone I love is in danger! I am obviously a mistake that everyone else is paying for! And I am damn sure going to take care of this mistake once and for all tonight! Every damn one of them would be better off if I was dead!"

Jimmy glared at Noah, challengingly.

Noah raised an eyebrow over heavily lidded eyes with slightly pursed lips.

"Hm."

Jimmy glared at him with a furrowed brow, "'Hm'? What's 'Hm'? What the hell do you mean by 'Hm'?"

Noah shrugged, "I don't even think you believe that. You just think how all these folks you think you're saving are going to feel when they find you tomorrow—Christmas Day—frozen to the ground with your brains scattered around you."

Jimmy nodded, "Yeah, Noah. Good point. You're right. It would be better for everyone if I had never been born."

The wind stopped blowing. The snow stopped falling. Noah looked up to the sky and tilted his head, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. A slow smile spread across his face as he nodded in silent agreement.

"Alright," Noah said softly.

"Alright, what?"

"Alright, you've never been born."

Jimmy just stared at Noah.

"What do you mean, 'I've never been born'? I'm still standing here, ain't I?"

"I mean," Noah said slowly, "you've never been born. You don't exist. There never was a James Butler Hickok."

"Did you hit your head, knock some screws loose, coming down here from wherever you've been?" Jimmy asked as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. This was more exhausting than talking to Emmett. His eye was starting to twitch again too.

"Heaven. That's where I've been. Angel, remember? I remembered you being smarter than this. You don't think we have some tricks up there? Granted, this isn't how things usually go, but on account of you being so pig-headed and thick-skulled, they're willing to bend some rules."

Jimmy raised his eyes to Noah sharply and glared, his lip curled into almost a sneer, "Uh-huh."

Noah returned the look with equal intensity before letting out a sigh, "Where are your Colts, Jimmy?"

"Well, that's a dumb question, they're right-" he patted his hips and stopped abruptly when he felt nothing.

"Your hands, clothes...where is Matt's blood?"

Jimmy looked to his clothes, glanced at his hands with growing alarm.

Noah continued, "Feel in your pocket, the list from Violet for Tompkins' store. Where is it, Jimmy?"

"It…it's not..." Jimmy stuttered as he felt inside his empty jacket pocket with growing panic, "what the hell have you done to me?"

"Granted your wish. You think everyone's life would be better off without you? Well now you can see for yourself. You've been given a gift, my friend. You get to see what life would really be like without you—your lip stopped bleeding too."

Jimmy's tongue extended from his mouth and soon his fingers followed, searching for where the skin had split from Betty's surprisingly strong punch. There was nothing. Noah offered a bemused expression.

"It's a little chilly out to do much but take my word for it but all your scars are gone too."

"No. I don't know when I started having a nightmare, but it's gonna stop right now. I'm going into town. You'll see..."

Jimmy looked around for Sundance but the horse was nowhere to be found.

"You think your horse is still going to be standing here waiting for an owner who never existed? Think, man."

Jimmy started jogging instead, "Well, I'm going, you'll see...you coming, or what?" he called out over his shoulder.

Noah paused and shook his head. He cast his eyes upwards, before muttering under his breath, "Well, it better work... I don't know what else to do to reach him. Told you he was stubborn."

With a resigned sigh Noah began to follow. He quickly caught up to his old friend.

"Say...if you're an angel and all," Jimmy mused, having slowed to a walk. "Can't we just fly or something?"

"Do you see a pair of wings on me?"

"I just thought..."

"I don't see where your thinking has done you much good lately."

Jimmy was about to try for a witty retort when he saw Kid and Lou's little farm come into view.

"Now we can put an end to all this nonsense," he said sounding relieved. "Kid and Lou know me. They'll get me set to rights. I'm drunk...someone got the drop on me...probably knocked me unconscious...they stole my guns and now I'm seeing things. It'll be fine once I get to them. Just hope they haven't already left for my place."

Noah thought to stop him but instead decided it would be to both their benefit to let Jimmy head toward the house.
Jimmy rapped urgently at the door and then shifted nervously from foot to foot as he heard a gruff voice from inside respond. Moments later he faced an angry looking older man holding a rifle on him.

"Who are you?" Jimmy choked out.

"Don't think you're in a position to ask the questions stranger," the man grumbled at him. "How 'bout you tell me who you are?"

"Hickok...name's Hickok. I got friends that live here."

"I'm the only one what lives here...and you ain't no friend of mine. Now git before I have to shoot you!"

Jimmy's hands flew reflexively to his hips where they grasped nothing but air. He wanted to argue the point. He had been to this home many times over the past five or so years and this was most certainly where Kid and Lou and their passel of boys lived. Of course it looked different. That was because it was night, he told himself. He hadn't been by at night in so long. The arguments rose to his throat but died on his tongue. They'd probably do nothing but get him shot. The irony of how close he had come to dispatching himself only to turn and quickly get away from someone trying to do the same thing was not entirely lost on him.

Noah's self-satisfied smirk when Jimmy got back to him was almost enough to make Jimmy throw a punch.

"What is this? Did you put some kind of spell on me or something? Why am I seeing these strange things? Who are you?"

Noah sighed wearily.

"I told them," he said with a nearly imperceptible upward glance. "I told them you wouldn't believe this. They wondered why you would doubt the truth...all the time they spend watching and you'd think they'd understand people better. I am an angel. I am your angel. I am here to keep you from throwing away your life. They sent me because...well, because I know you, because I care about you."

Jimmy paced away and then back while running his hands through his hair.

"I got to talk to Dave about the quality of whiskey he's serving. I'm going to have my hands full if it has this effect on everyone. You...you look like Noah because I miss him something fierce...that's all there is to it!"

"I look like Noah because in life I was Noah," he said the words as if speaking to a very small child. "And it doesn't matter at all if you believe me anyway. You wanted to see what it would be like if you hadn't lived. Take a look."

"Where's Kid and Lou?"

"Kid's dead...died back in Sweetwater."

Jimmy's head jerked up at that.

"I think earlier you were getting down on yourself for killing Jed...seems you thought he wouldn't've really shot his own brother. See what thinking gets you? Jed killed Kid that day. He killed him and ran. It's too bad really that you weren't there to protect him."

"And Lou?"

"She couldn't stand being there without him. Everything reminded her of him. She quit the Pony Express, went back to the orphanage...she hadn't gotten enough money together to get her siblings out. She needed money. Not many ways a woman can earn money..."

"No...not Lou...she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't go to work at one of them places."

"Desperate people do desperate things," Noah said flatly. "She was making good money for a while but then when Jeremiah and Theresa got sick...and died...she just didn't care anymore. It's just as well that she's in St. Joe. It's best you don't see how much her spirit has been broken."

Jimmy's brow furrowed and he shook his head furiously.

"No! I won't believe any of this! If you're so smart, then who is that guy? And why is he so mean? He looked scared. People aren't like that around here!"

"They aren't like that in the Rock Creek you know," Noah replied sadly. "This Rock Creek is lacking a few things. The first of which is a marshal who will truly stand up for people and be imposing if he has to...the second is that same marshal who puts people above his own power. They had one in Teaspoon...but he retired a few years back. There's no real law to speak of now."

"That's...that's just not so! I've been the law since Teaspoon retired! Might be the only thing I ever been half decent at. Course, it's a good town...got good people. I'll show you!"

Jimmy stalked off and then stopped and turned to look back at Noah.

"Well, come on...or are you afraid to see that I'm right? You can't have everyone under this...spell or whatever it is!"
Noah shrugged his shoulders and started moving, in no rush to see what they were headed towards. Jimmy's previously quickly paced walk slowed as he took in the changes the closer they got to the town. Soon he was barely moving forward at all.

"There something wrong, Jimmy?" Noah asked innocently.

"What the hell is this? Where the hell is this?"

"This is Rock Creek. You know that."

"It's all wrong. It looks almost like Rock Creek but...no, this is not Rock Creek."

Jimmy looked frantically around trying to orient himself in the foreign surroundings.

"Why did you take me to a different night?"

Noah looked at Jimmy in question.

"It was Christmas Eve before," Jimmy clarified. "I don't see a single sprig of holly. Not a wreath. Tompkins usually puts special bells on the door. Don't tell me the world quit having Christmas just 'cause I wasn't born."

"Oh there's still Christmas...other places. Christmas is a time of hope and cheer. You won't find those things in Rock Creek-not anymore."

"What the hell happened?"

Noah looked down the boardwalk a little ways and nodded.

"They happened."

There was a commotion from around a corner and in a little alley. Jimmy peeked around cautiously only to see Dave getting roughed up by some large and mean looking men he didn't recognize.

"How many times we got to tell you the boss don't like you coming inside and begging for change and drinks from paying customers. It brings the place down."

Dave looked barely able to stand and only part of the reason was the beating he had taken. To Jimmy's eye it looked more like liquor was to blame.

"Dave?" Jimmy called out, confused. Dave should be behind the bar pouring drinks not in an alley begging for them.

"Who the hell are you?"

Jimmy narrowed his eyes and offered his hardest look.

"Wild Bill Hickok," he said boldly and without fear.

"Never heard of you," the one who seemed to be leading this group sneered. "You talk pretty big for a man ain't even heeled."

His normally calm and collected poker face and steely gaze crumbled into a look of abject horror as he remembered they were right. His guns were gone. Noah had pointed that out by the river. Jimmy had already found that out first hand at what wasn't Kid and Lou's place. Now, he was facing armed men he did not know and had nothing with which to fight them. And they were advancing on him. He spent so much time fighting the legend that he forgot how much he depended on it.

Rolling his eyes, Noah grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and jerked him behind the building where they took off running, dodging between buildings and alleyways, passing homeless people and beggars. When they felt like they had shaken the men on their tails, the leaned back against a wall, gasping for breath.

"That was almost like old times," Noah panted seemingly energized. It had been too long since the two of them had worked together to get out of a jam like that. "Neither one of us was ever good at staying out of trouble, were we?"

"Told you being with me was dangerous," Jimmy answered sadly. "It always was."

"Well, I was being a little cocky...I could've filled you in better."

"What happened to Dave? What's he doing begging for drinks? He owns the saloon for crying out loud."

"Dave used to own the saloon."

"He sold it?"

"Did those guys look like legitimate businessmen to you?"

"Surely someone must've tried to stop them."

"Like who?" Noah asked with the edge to his voice in stark contrast to the wide eyes he offered.

Jimmy was about to protest further when he spotted Matt.

"At least Matt ain't laying in the doc's office bleeding all over on account of me."

"I ain't so sure you're going to find this much better."

Jimmy kept watching thinking that alive was always better than dead when speaking of a lad that young. But as he realized the nature of the group Matt was travelling in, he began to go back on that thought. This was obviously part of the same group that ran the town, that had forced Dave out of his own saloon, that had turned imperfect but at the very least hospitable Rock Creek into a place damned near as bad as Regrets.

The group of young men Matt walked with were tailing Betty and her father. It was clear that Mr. O'Riordan was aware he was being followed but had learned long before to ignore as best he could. He did everything he could to shield his wisp of a daughter with his body. Jimmy's forehead wrinkled as he thought of times before when he had met the man. Jimmy wasn't a small man but John O'Riordan had seemed so much bigger, more imposing. Now he looked like paper crumpled and tossed toward a wastebasket with little care where it landed.

It didn't take much to see the object of the gang's interest and Jimmy wanted to run out there...to help defend Betty. He'd done a horrid job of seeing to her happiness in the world where he existed but maybe he could keep her safe in this one. Noah grabbed his arm. Hard.

"You forget the couple little things you're missing? They got pretty ivory handles and make loud noises."

"You got your whip still."

"We don't exist. You haven't been born and well, contrary to what some may say...some places there is no God. Hardest thing about where I am and what I am, Jimmy...I can see it all and I can't do a thing to interfere unless the boss sends me in. Then I've got one job. I can't stray from it. Tonight, you are my one interest."

Noah looked around and blinked a couple times.

"You and the others are pretty much my only interests anyway."

"So we just have to sit here and watch this?"

Noah nodded.

"It's what you wanted, what you asked for."

"She's just a girl..."

"Stop playing innocent, Jimmy. You ain't lived long enough or drank hard enough to forget that little girls ain't safe from evil. She's closer to a woman than Vi was."

As Noah spoke, one of the men reached and yanked Betty free of her father's arms. She squeaked in surprise. Jimmy saw Matt flinch at that. It did him some good to know that even in this mess of a world, Matt saw something special in that feisty little redhead. He watched and waited while Matt did nothing. Betty's father turned as if to resist and was met with the barrel of a gun in his face. Betty stopped struggling, perhaps in the hope that her father would be spared. Jimmy knew better.

"Hey lookie here," the man who seemed the ringleader of this bunch said although the words seemed more to ooze from his mouth. "Looks like little Matty likes this one. What do you think, boys? Should we let little Matty get a taste of this one? It is Christmas after all."

Jimmy saw the horrified look on Matt's face and then a comfort in thinking at least he could keep her safe, make sure she wasn't hurt.

"Oh, but what does Matty know? This one's a fighter...we better break her in for him first."

His words dissolved into wicked laughter that was joined by the others. Even Matt offered a half hearted laugh. This was not the Matt Dunnings he knew. Matt would have laid down his life for Betty. He'd die to protect anyone being abused so.

"Ease up on the boy," Noah said, "Yeah I know what you're thinking but you aren't remembering he's been on his own since he was fifteen. No one cared enough to keep him fed or give him a job or listen to him or take him home to a family dinner or teach him a single thing about being a man. The Matt you're thinking of learned all that from watching you."

Nearby John O'Riordan made one more lunge toward his little girl, one last ditch effort to save her and the gun in his face was cocked. Noah grabbed Jimmy's shoulder and spun him away from the scene.

"Don't think it's a secret what's going to happen next," Noah explained as they heard Betty begging for her father's life. "Mad as I am at what you wanted to do to yourself, I ain't going to make you watch it." They turned and exited the other end of the alley they'd been standing in just as the gun fired and Betty screamed.

Jimmy doubled over and thought he might be sick.

"Still," he rasped somehow looking both helpless and defiant as he stubbornly met Noah's eyes. "Matt's alive. He didn't just get shot by his hero. He ain't in a grave like that woman in Benton. Hell, she should be thanking her lucky stars she never crossed my path."

Noah chuckled.

"This is funny to you? What happened to you? You ain't no angel to see me hurt like this...to think of innocent, good people dead and laugh."

"Do you really think you have a say in when someone's time is up? That woman in Benton is just as dead as the version of her that crossed in front of your bullet. You weren't born so there was no gunfight for her to wander into. It was the path of an incoming stage instead. She still died that day. You had nothing to do with it."

Jimmy was silent awhile, leaning against the side of a building.

"I need to see Violet," he declared suddenly. "You know where she is. Take me to her."

"Jimmy...you don't want this...trust me."

"Trust you? I should trust something grief and whiskey conjured in my head? Take me to my wife. I need to see my wife and babies."

Noah raised an eyebrow at the request.

"Men who were never born do not father children."

"Whatever! Just take me to my Violet."

Noah looked up as if listening intently to someone.

"You're right, I don't want to...you know why...But he's my brother!"

Resignation washed over Noah and his shoulders drooped with the weight of it.

"You're right...there's no other way."

"Who in blazes are you talking to? And don't you dare say 'no one.'"

"Who do you think?" Noah snapped before stalking away. Jimmy followed.

"What are we doing here?" Jimmy asked as dread filled him. They stood now in the small graveyard next to the all but forgotten church. Noah simply pointed. The marker was simple. It stood in between many others. Jimmy refused at first to look at the marker Noah indicated. He looked instead at the others. Rose Markham...Violet's sister. Other names he remembered as her siblings that had not made it. One marker stood for both Tom and Anne Markham. They had passed, the both of them in 1862. Finally it could be put off no longer. He read from the bottom toward the top...afraid of the name engraved most of all. "Beloved daughter," it read. February, 1848-May 1861 were the dates upon it. A child's grave. A child of only thirteen years old. A child who died when she should have been taking her first tentative steps to womanhood. At last he lifted his eyes to read "Violet Markham".

"No," he whispered at Noah. "No...please tell me it's not so. She should be better off. She should be married to some wealthy man who can take care of her. How could this happen?"

"You were never born," Noah replied weakly. "The shadow still was."

"But she lived through that. He thought he killed her but she wasn't dead."

"Her body wasn't. But her spirit was gravely wounded. No one knew what to do for her. No one knew what to say. They walked as if on eggshells around her. They whispered about her instead of talking to her. The shadow wanted her dead and he would have come back for her. I don't know if she could have been protected without you there. All I know is it didn't matter. She smuggled a knife into her bedroom a few days after she was attacked. That night she cut her wrists. By the time her mother checked on her in the morning...it was too late. As you can see, her death took its toll on her parents as well. They weakened daily and really, they had lost the only thing they had lived for. She could have been saved...but the one who had the power to save her had never been born."

Jimmy stood there, hearing the words but trying not to. Zuzu's sloppy kisses. Emmitt begging to be taught to shoot a pistol even though he couldn't yet lift one. Gone. Never existing. Never knowing the warmth of the sun, or the love of family…

The feeling left his body and it was not from the cold. His heart broke. Violet. His Violet. In the ground. It was cold in the ground. She was alone. His legs gave out and frantically he began to claw at the frozen dirt. Noah's hand gripped his shoulder hard enough to bruise.

"I have to get her out of there. She's alone...She hates to be alone. She gets so scared. She must be terrified. I'm coming, honey! Noah, God, Noah, help me. She needs to get out of there. Damn it, Noah! Why aren't you helping me?"

"Jimmy...she isn't scared...she isn't cold. She's safe and warm. She could have been safe and warm and alive. She could have been empowered. She could have been a hero to a famous pistoleer as he was to her."

Tears were flowing freely down Jimmy's cheeks as they had been since he read the name on the grave. He hugged the marker.

"I'm so sorry, Vi." He rasped brokenly, hot tears falling on the cold granite, freezing fast.

"Noah, tell me I don't have to stay here, Noah. Tell me I can go back, to her, to our babies, to our cold and drafty house and my stupid office. Please, Noah. Tell me I can still save her. I want to go back. I want my family! I want to live!"

Jimmy's eyes were shut as tightly as he held to the stone marker. He repeated over and over. "I want to live. I want her back."

A nudge at his shoulder startled him and he looked up and into the big wondering eyes of Sundance. He noticed the snow fluttering around him once again. The breeze, absent just moments before, picked up and cooled the wet tracks on his face. His horse looked concerned for him. He felt the rigid stickiness of his shirt where it had been soaked with his deputy's blood. He had never felt happier to be responsible for someone's blood on his hands. The reassuring weight of his Colts, cold and heavy against his thighs, brought him back to his own reality quickly. He darted his tongue out and tasted the blood where Betty O'Riordan had split his lip.

He chanced a look at the name on the grave where he kneeled. Noah Dixon. That name on a headstone would never completely stop hurting but it wasn't his love. It wasn't his Violet. He lived and sweet Violet lived as well. And if she lived then so did his children. He had to see them. He had to get home. Violet would be furious but never would it feel so good to incur her wrath! He was alive!

Jimmy jumped up and began to run toward his home but then stopped abruptly and turned. Deliberately he walked back to the grave of his dear friend. He placed a hand reverently on the stone marker.

"Noah...I...well, there just ain't words."

With that, he situated his hat on his head and walked away, Sundance right behind the confusing man. Upon passing the cemetery gates, he broke into a trot that sped to a run. He had ruined Christmas Eve dinner, he had shot his own deputy, he had slipped from sobriety and had even frightened his wife and son. But he was alive. He could do better. He would do better. And even when he didn't...even then...he would know that he had already done things that mattered more than any window that still needed fixing. Violet was alive because of him. He'd never thought of how to treat her after all that happened. He never analyzed it. Somehow what came natural was what she needed to heal.

He didn't need the Pinkerton job or Cody's life of fame and fortune. He was a richer man than most would ever see just for what was under his roof. His wife...his children.

Jimmy burst through the door of his home to the startled looks of his family. This group he had collected in varying ways through the years. He first spotted Emmett. The boy looked scared of him still and was fighting to keep his lip from trembling. Kneeling, he opened his arms to the boy.

"I'm sorry I yelled, Em."

Emmett rushed toward his father and Jimmy felt he couldn't hold the boy tight enough. Soon another small pair of arms wrapped around his shoulder. He looked to see a clear-eyed Hannah looking at him.

"How's my little Zuzu?"

"All better!"

She offered a kiss that left his cheek slobbery. His heart was nearly overflowing. There appeared in front of him swishing skirts in a dark plum color. He stood and came face to face with his beautiful bride. He could tell she was trying to be angry with him for worrying her and for everything else he'd done. But her heart wasn't in it. She was crying and smiling and he just pulled her to him.

"Vi...please tell me you're real. Tell me I'm not dreaming this. I'm so sorry, Vi."

He held her tight to him. He kissed her cheeks, her nose, her mouth. Her arms wound around him and she stroked his head with one hand.

"It's alright now."

"I know it is...I won't doubt it again."

Violet made him clean up some and change his shirt and then pulled him back out amongst the family.

"You just won't believe all that's happened!"

"You'd be surprised at what I can believe, Violet."

"We were so worried when you didn't come home and Teaspoon and Kid went looking for you. They found out about Matt and Dave filled them in on the rest."

"We was able to follow your tracks for a while," Teaspoon said picking up the story. "Followed 'em all the way to the river and then they up and disappeared. I wasn't quite sure what to think at that. Weren't nothing else we could do really so we came back into town and set to collecting that no good bunch that hassled everyone earlier. Couple guys from town didn't have much else to do tonight so they let us deputize 'em and they're sitting watch at the jail. Maybe a night in jail will make them strangers more amenable to leaving."

"You arrested the whole bunch?"

"All six of them," Kid piped up. "With the help of the rest of the town, of course. They ain't above helping you, Jimmy. When we headed back here, Tompkins came out and said you had some things waiting to be picked up. He figured you had other things on your mind and he wanted to bring everything here but needed some help."

Jimmy couldn't even think of what to say so he just stood there with his mouth hanging open. He was saved from making a comment by a knock at the door. Lou answered and they all looked a little wary when the person standing on the porch was revealed to be Betty O'Riordan. Under any other circumstances, Lou and perhaps even Kid would be spitting fire at anyone who harmed their brother. But then, she was a sweet girl when the man she loved wasn't lying bleeding in a doctor's surgery. Jimmy stepped forward. If she punched him again, he could take it.

"I'm sorry Betty. You'll never know how much."
With even less notice than she'd given him before she had punched him, she threw her arms around Jimmy's neck and held tight.

"What fer? Ye saved m'Matthew's life. Doc says he'd've been a goner fer sure if ya hadn't carried 'im like ye did."

"He-he's alive?"

"Aye, he even woke a spell. Warned me not to go off half-cocked and blamin' the great Marshal Hickok. Said it weren't no fault o' yer own." She lowered her voice, sheepishly, "I din' tell him I already had." She blushed mightily.

He shook his head, trying to shrug off her apology, "I still..."

She kissed his cheek and then patted it lightly with a small laugh.

"Oh no ye don't...I can't be cross wit' ye tonight. Not with being engaged ta be married and all!"

"He actually did it. He's a lucky man to have you," Jimmy said around the lump in his throat. "Don't you ever let him forget it."

There was another rap at the door but then it opened before anyone could even move to answer it. Through it came Buck and Cody carrying packages and wearing bright smiles.

They crossed the room and hugged Jimmy tight, ignoring his open mouthed, dumbfounded expression.

"Wh-What-What are you guys doing here?"

"Spending Christmas with our brother," Buck replied with a roll of his eyes. "He hasn't gotten any smarter at all, Cody."

"But what about your family, Cody?"

"Wasn't going to make it all the way back to see them anyway. When we got Violet's wire...she said you needed us, that you was feeling down. Where else could we be?"

Hugs were exchanged and suddenly the tiny, drafty house was snug and cozy in Jimmy's estimation. Violet and Lou got Betty settled in on the settee with a warming wrap and some tea to settle her nerves as introductions were made. She would soon be part of the family, after all.

He could think later about getting some work done on the place. Buck was already offering to fill in as deputy until Matt was up and around. Maybe they could work together on the place. It would be like old times. Or maybe times shouldn't be placed in boxes like that...old or new. Maybe when people who cared got together the times were just better. Jimmy smiled at the thought...There was no 'maybe' about it. They were better.

A movement outside drew his attention to the window and Jimmy saw an unmistakable shape in the swirling snow. He excused himself saying he wanted to check on Sundance. The poor horse had been horribly treated that night and he wanted to make sure his old pal was doing alright. Once outside he headed straight for the old bunkhouse to where Noah was standing.

"Thought you was already gone."

"I didn't get a chance to say goodbye before," Noah replied softly. "I wish...I wish I could come in and say it to everyone. I'll spend the rest of my eternity haunted by Cody's guilt … you know, for when I died, how I died. Well, at least until he joins me and we can talk again. I try to pop in on him now and again but I can't show myself. Sometimes he just needs a hand on his shoulder."

"It wasn't easy on anyone losing you like we did. Harder on a couple of us, I guess. I know Cody blamed himself for not getting there soon enough to keep you from getting shot. Wasn't his fault though...it was mine for bringing her here."

"I told you before that you don't get a say on when someone's time comes. And you didn't lose me. I never really left. I'm always right here watching over you and the others."

"You saved my life tonight. I don't think I can thank you enough."

"If you really want to thank me...live your life. Live it and love the people in it. Don't ever forget what riches you have and don't discount your successes. I understand I wasn't meant to get the life you have...the wife, the kids. But I wanted it. If I can look in on you and see you teaching little Emmett to shoot or reading to your Zuzu...or holding hands with your wife. That's all I could ask of you."

"I swear it."

"I can't stay."

"I wish you could."

Noah smiled, "I think you've used your wishes for one night."

Jimmy stuck out his hand awkwardly. Noah regarded the outstretched hand and shook his head, his smile widening.

"That ain't how brothers part, Jimmy."

Noah's arms enveloped Jimmy and a hug never felt warmer or more comforting. It was as if it wasn't only Noah embracing him but maybe God Himself was as well.

"You get the urge to tally your scorecard up again," Noah whispered in Jimmy's ear. "Remember this. Love counts for more points than anything else...and no man is a failure who has friends. By that yardstick, I ain't met many more successful men than you."

Noah's arms left Jimmy but the warmth, the peace they brought him did not. He watched as Noah walked away, swallowed by a sudden swirl of snow. The corners of Jimmy's mouth turned up as he headed for the house. Yes, he was a rich man. And a success. He was so successful that his friends would come all the way from heaven to help him.

As he approached the house with its cozy warmth emanating from every golden, glowing window, he heard the sounds of singing. Teaspoon had undoubtedly started the rousing chorus of Auld Lang Syne that wafted into the night. It was fitting and only served to stoke the warmth within him.

He walked back into his house, scooping up Hannah as he did so and tousling Emmett's hair. He joined in the song and, as Violet's arm wrapped around his waist, thought how wonderful his life really was.

I got this bright idea a short while ago. It seemed simple enough. It wasn't simple at all. I began to despair that it would not get done in time for Christmas...that it might not get done at all. Things have been...challenging...of late and as self-doubt is a constant companion to me, I naturally began to break down. To doubt my ability...to beat myself up.

But truly...no man, or woman for that matter, is a failure who has friends. I have some damned amazing friends. Two in particular popped up to get this story together. The story is mine. maybe two thirds was written by me...maybe less. Gert and Myrt...better known as Signefalls and JayLaw...the most wonderful elves outside of Rivendell. They truly were little elves. I would be stuck and doubting and feeling about as low as I could and I would check the document and they had gotten me over my sticking point and solved all my plot problems.

This has been such a very emotional holiday season so far...so many have reached out to offer me...my family...help. It has come in the form of things and money (which have been needed) and in prayer, warm thoughts and kind words. But all of it has come with love. I am so surrounded in love and it overwhelms me sometimes.

So...to the ladies at the plus...Marie, Anita, Cindy, Leah, Lisa, Mercy, Pilar, Vandy, Rosie, Fran, Jalal and Kristina...thank you for having my back. I am never alone and I can never despair. To my special elves...thank you so much...what you did...well, it's so much greater than just a story. I love you both very much. And finally...to you, dear and constant reader, Merry Christmas. Be safe, be joyous and know you are loved!

-Jenna