The firelight flashed off the needle Sister Ruth was using, but it had become impossible for her to see the dark thread on the dark fabric anymore, so she laid the shirt she was working on down on her lap.

"It's about time you put it away. I ain't in danger of being naked anytime soon," Kid Cole commented, "and you're going to strain your eyes that way."

"That's just an old wives' tale," Ruth said dismissively. "Besides, the lighting ain't keeping you from cleaning your gun."

He set it down with a smile. "There. We've saved our eyes."

"As old as we are, I'd say our eyes are about gone anyway," she said in teasing reply as she rocked while Kid just absorbed the sight. The truth was he'd a whole lot rather look at her than his gun.

After a few moments of quiet, she said, "I wish you could've met my family. My parents and siblings. It's hard to believe they're all gone now except for some cousins and some nieces and nephews."

"I know what you mean," he said. Then he added with adoring eyes, "My family would've loved you."

She laughed. "I doubt that, but I would've liked to have met them."

"Sometimes I wish I could go back. Say what I never said to them. Try to mend some fences."

She knew how much he still grieved his brother's death, and she reached out and took his hand in hers, trying to impart what comfort she could.

December 1828

A ship sliced through the Atlantic waters. The ship was a Boston trading vessel that brought otter and beaver skins from San Francisco to sell to rich folks back east.

Kid, remembering how homesick Ruth was, had gotten a big enough reward from capturing a wanted outlaw to pay for passage to Virginia. The captain had been reluctant at first, not normally taking passengers, but when Kid had flashed the wad of bills, he couldn't say no even when the passengers had included their horses and their luggage had included the new wagon.

Norfolk was now in the distance, their port of destination. Ruth and Kid stood on deck watching as the town slowly drew closer.

Ruth had gotten her sea legs after a miserable first week when all she'd been able to keep down was tea. Nonetheless, the prospect of having dry, solid land under her feet again thrilled her.

"I bet the sailors will be glad to be rid of you," Kid commented, "making them watch their language and talking about God to them all the time. They've complained to me often enough that it felt like they were in a never-ending church service."

"I have a feeling that's how the women are bad luck on a ship thing got started," she said with a chuckle. Then she added, "Is that what being married to me feels like?"

He smiled and pulled her closer. "No, being married to you feels like paradise."

When they finally got to the harbor and got off, her legs didn't know what to do with ground that didn't sway with the choppy waves. Kid gave her his arm to steady her and they walked up and down the dock until she got her bearings.

Kid hitched the horses to the wagon and helped her up onto the seat. It was the first time she'd really gotten to use the wagon other than the short ride around San Francisco Kid had taken her on.

"You're driving?" he asked, hesitation in his eyes when she picked up the reins.

"We'll be able to go further if we take turns. Unlike with the horses, I have actually driven wagons. I've gone up mountain paths where one false move and we'd have gone over the side."

There was still a bit of hesitation, knowing his wife sometimes enjoyed breaknecking speeds, and she further added, "In fact, I even taught myself to hold the reins with my feet. Would you like to see?"

"Nobody knows how flexible you are better than I do, but if it's just the same to you, I'd prefer not to see it."

"Alright, but it's a useful skill to have. You'll be begging me to do it if our arms are ever rendered useless," she said teasingly. She clicked her tongue and gently pulled on the reigns to get them moving. "We can make a beeline westward from Norfolk. It's almost a straight line."

He gave a grunt to let her know he was listening as he studied the surroundings. He was interested in the eastern town, having never been in one before. Norfolk had the feeling of establishment and history unlike San Francisco. Most of the buildings were made from brick and steeples of churches pierced the sky. The streets were actually paved, making the ride in the wagon smoother than he could have dreamed. There were even lamps to light the streets at night. The streets and dock bustled with activity and plenty of noise made up from a large assortment of people. He didn't see any Spanish or Indians, but there were a lot of dark-skinned people. He was surprised to see that a lot of these slaves moved about freely.

"Kind of makes you long for open spaces," he said, commenting on the number of people.

"It is a mite congested, although that means there's a lot of nice goods to be had. I'd like to get my family some presents before we leave if you don't mind."

"It's fine with me."

They passed a cluster of people ranging from skin as dark as ebony to skin so light they could have passed for white. They were being traded and would end up somewhere deeper south.

Ruth whispered a passing prayer for the people and then shook her head. "That's a blight on our country. It just ain't right, splitting up families, not giving people the freedoms God meant for us to have, and heaven knows what happens to them if they fall into the hands of a cruel person. And some of them are our very own sisters and brothers in Christ and we do this to them. It just ain't Biblical. I don't care what some of them preachers say about Ham's curse."

"You got much slaves around home?" he asked.

"Not that I know of. Our community is full of poor folks who can barely afford to feed themselves and the land ain't made for great, big plantations, so Western Virginia ain't got near as many slaves as Eastern Virginia. It just don't make economical sense. Wish I could say it's because it doesn't make moral sense to them either. You got slaves where you grew up?"

"My family don't have 'em, but I know a neighbor or two that have a few."

"I hope I live to see the day where a revival sweeps through this nation and convicts the people to live in a manner more pleasing to God."

"It's a nice dream," he agreed.

Ruth picked up some trinkets for her family and was glad she had thought to bring oranges and lemons to her family before sailing as they cost an arm and a leg in Norfolk. Then they were on their way westward.

The air was only nippy, although it certainly could get colder and probably would once they hit the mountains. There were so many trees, barren though they were at this time of year. Rivers and creeks were everywhere it seemed, meaning there was no threat of going thirsty.

Christmas was just a week away when they began to near her home. The blue-tinted mountains loomed into sight. "Aren't they beautiful? I didn't realize how homesick I was for them until just now."

"They are pretty," he agreed.

There was a gap in the mountain range that allowed them to take their wagon through into the valley where her family lived, land that Daniel Boone had traveled a little over 50 years ago on his way to Kentucky. There were patches of leftover snow on the ground now with dry winter grass poking through, and they were thankful they'd missed that bit of weather as it would have made traveling harder.

Ruth got more and more cheerful as they neared her parents' house. She suddenly brought the wagon to a stop at the bottom of a hill and hopped out.

Kid got out but looked confused as he didn't see a house.

"My folks live at the top of this hill, but it's too steep an incline for the wagon. We'll have to leave it down here and walk up," she explained. "I'm too eager to see everybody to unhitch the horses, but we'll come back for them."

As they started the trek upwards, Ruth chattered excitedly, "I can show you the creek where I played, the trees I climbed. I bet you Momma still has my gravel flipper."

He laughed. He hadn't pictured her a tomboy, but somehow it fit. "It sounds like you lived as wild as an Indian."

"I had my fair share of freedom," she agreed with a happy smile.

Before they could do anymore walking down memory lane, Kid felt the nozzle of a rifle thrust into his back. "Get your hands off my daughter, stranger," said a gruff-sounding voice.

"He ain't a stranger, Daddy; he's my husband."

The nozzle didn't move from his back with this piece of news, if anything, it pressed into it harder, causing Kid to question the wisdom of this trip.