The Horse Whisperer
By
A. Rhea King
Buck and Jimmy had been riding at a slow jog for most of the morning. Their conversation had dropped off two hours ago when the snow started drifting from the sky. Both were thinking about the Sweetwater way station that was another two hours away.
"I want a pot of hot coffee," Jimmy complained almost under his breath.
Buck only smiled. He was watching the ground beside the trail out of boredom. Buck suddenly stopped his horse and leaned over the horse's shoulder to look closer at something on the ground. Jimmy stopped and turned his horse.
"What is it?" Jimmy asked.
"Blood," Buck said as he slid off his horse.
Buck crouched down to get a closer look at the trail of blood that ran across the trail. Jimmy got off his horse and walked over. He looked at the sagebrush around them then, with a heavy sigh, across the whitening plains around them.
"Probably just some animal that someone shot," Jimmy said. He didn't want it to be anything else. He was cold, hungry and exhausted.
"There was a horse and a person." Buck looked up at Jimmy.
Jimmy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "And now you're going to say, 'Let's check it out', right?"
"I can go alone," Buck offered.
"No. No. Let's check it out." Jimmy turned and got back on.
Buck smiled behind his back, but made sure to wipe it off before Jimmy saw it. Jimmy had been moody since he had been called out for a gunfight in Split Rock, but he was glad his friend had agreed with him for the first time since they'd left. Buck led his horse as he followed the trail of blood. It was leading toward a gully and the closer they got, the more blood there was.
"They'll be weak if this wound is as bad as it looks," Jimmy thought out loud.
Buck nodded.
The two reached the edge of the gully and stopped. The trail led down its steep side of crumbling limestone into the dense trees below.
"What do you think?" Buck asked, looking up at Jimmy.
Jimmy got off and started down the narrow trail the blood went down. Buck followed behind, watching his footing on the crumbling limestone. They came to the bottom of the gully and stopped. A dark bay was lying on the ground still in tack. The ground around her badly mangled leg was almost black with blood. Someone had shot her between the eyes and blood was still soaking the ground around her head.
"Who'd leave their tack like that?" Jimmy asked, looking at Buck.
"Someone in a hurry or someone who didn't care," Buck answered.
Buck walked over to the horse, looking around the area. Under the cover of the trees, snow had barely dusted the ground and hadn't quite covered the footprints leading into the trees. Buck knelt down, investigating them closer. Jimmy sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get Buck to hurry now.
"We have a letter to deliver, Buck."
"This person's injured," Buck said.
"And how can you tell that?"
"Their steps are uneven."
"Bu—"
"Just give me five minutes, alright?" Buck said.
Jimmy looked up with a deliberate heavy sigh. Buck turned and followed the trail around some trees, disappearing. Jimmy waited impatiently and the minutes began to drag. He turned, looking up the gully. He could see the snow was coming down harder outside the shelter of the trees and his mind drifted to memories of childhood days like this.
Jimmy's trip down memory lane was cut short when he heard the snap of a twig behind him. He instinctively spun, drawing his gun. The girl facing him pulled hers just as fast as he did. The fact it was a girl with a gun aimed at him didn't surprise him as much as her appearance for better and worse. She had long silken auburn hair that flowed just past her shoulders from under her black. Her hat had a strand of simple turquoise stones and silver those made her steel blue eyes seem a lighter blue. She wore a simple black cotton shirt, black trousers, a heavy work coat and plain black boots. She wore soft leather black gloves, one of which was currently aiming a silver handled Colt .45 at him. On her left arm she had a bandage wrapped around her upper arm that was already soaked with blood. Her face, that gave away how young she was, was an ashen gray. And if that wasn't enough to convince Jimmy the girl was afflicted with some sort of illness, the fact she was sweating despite the cold concluded the thought.
"Get away from her," the girl ordered, glancing at the dead horse.
Jimmy noticed she had an accent he'd heard but couldn't identify at the... Jimmy mentally kicked himself. Why was he concerned with her voice or appearance? She had a gun aimed at him and it was cocked.
"I don't mean no harm, ma'am."
"Leave," she ordered.
"I can't. I'm waiting for my friend. Why don't you come back with us? You could have a bed for a night and go into town for another horse."
"Are you deaf?"
Jimmy sighed, holstering his gun. "I'm just trying to help. It's cold out here. You won't get far this time of year without a horse."
"Leave," she repeated.
Jimmy saw Buck creeping up behind her.
Jimmy smiled at the girl. "Look, ma'am, I really wasn't meaning anything. We saw the blood and followed it. We thought someone might be hurt."
"The only someone that is going to be hurt is you. I said leave." She shot at his feet.
Jimmy instinctively re-drew his gun and almost shot back. At the last second he stopped himself.
"ARE YOU CRAZY!?" he yelled.
"LEAVE!" she yelled back.
Buck leapt and tackled her to the ground. The two fought for control of her gun. Jimmy dropped his gun and ran to help Buck. The two managed to pull the gun from her hand. Buck wrestled her until he was on top with her wrists pinned down. She struggled harder but it grew weak fast until she lay unconscious under Buck. He moved off of her, staring at her.
"Well…what now?" Jimmy asked, looking at his friend.
"We can't leave her out here." Buck looked at Jimmy.
Jimmy let out a disgusted sigh, standing up. "SHE SHOT AT ME!"
Buck smiled. "It wouldn't be the first time, Jimmy."
Jimmy didn't return the smile. "I'm glad someone finds this funny."
Buck grew serious again. "She's burning up, Jimmy. She's really sick. We can't just leave her out here. And she doesn't have a horse any more." Buck motioned to the dead horse a few feet away.
Jimmy put his hands on his hips and turned, walked a few steps, then turned back to look at Buck. "Teaspoon is going to kill us. The weather already made us half a day late."
"We can't leave her, Jimmy. You can't do it any more than I can. And Teaspoon will forgive us."
Jimmy's lips pressed tight together. Until his eyes drifted to the girl's face. Again he found himself thinking about her voice and how silky, soft her auburn hair looked.
"Jimmy," Buck said, breaking Jimmy's trance.
"How are we going to get her back?" Jimmy asked, looking at Buck again.
"We'll make a travois."
Jimmy nodded, looking at the dead horse. "Better get her tack too."
The two set to work making a travois with two saplings, some rope and their bedrolls. Buck drug the travois to the top of the gully and Jimmy carried the girl to the top. He laid her down on the travois, covering her with her saddle blanket. Buck laid the rest of her tack beside her.
"One of us should start back with this letter," Jimmy said, looking at Buck. "Why don't you go?"
"Are you sure?" Buck asked.
"Yes." Jimmy scratched the side of his nose, adding, "I was just thinking that since we have the travois on Jasper…you should take Wind Dancer and go on since he's your horse." Jimmy shrugged.
Buck looked from Jimmy's horse to his horse. Jimmy had a point. Buck grabbed the mail pouch off of Jimmy's saddle, put it on his and swung into the saddle. He looked down at Jimmy.
"If you're not back in three hours, I'm coming looking for you," Buck said.
"Bring coffee. Hot. And make sure Emma made it…not Lou," Jimmy joked.
Buck smiled, and then spurred his horse into a run toward the road. Jimmy started walking until Buck was out of sight. He stopped and walked back to the travois, looking at the girl. He knelt down, running his finger down her cheek. He suddenly stood, snatched up the reins and started walking.
Jimmy was startled from sleep when he heard the bedsprings squeak. He sat up, watching the girl's restless stir in the lamplight. She had been like this for three days now. The doctor said she had pneumonia and it was the worst case he'd seen in a long time. For Doc Michael, a long time meant this was serious. He told Emma to keep her warm and make sure the bed and the girl stayed dry. Jimmy hadn't understood what that last part meant, until he found himself hanging out sweat drenched nightgowns, sheets and blankets ever few hours. Emma had explained the girl would simply have to sweat out the sickness and if it was in God's will she would live. Jimmy didn't like the sound of that any more than Doc Michael saying this was the worst case he'd seen in a long time. Jimmy leaned forward and laid his hand on the girl's forehead.
She jerked awake and tried to pull away from his touch, but her sickness had left her weak.
"Where am I?" she demanded.
Jimmy withdrew his hand and leaned forward on his legs. "The Sweetwater way station?"
"Way station?" she asked.
"For the Pony Express."
She closed her eyes, swallowing. Jimmy got up and walked to the chest of drawers. He poured a glass of water, and then walked back. She was watching him with that same distrustful look as before. Jimmy stopped, staring back at her for a moment.
"It's water. I could pour it back."
She sighed a little. "No. Please…"
Jimmy sat down on the edge of the bed and helped her sit up while she drank the water. Jimmy eased her back down when she finished and sat the glass on the bedside table. Jimmy returned to his chair, watching her.
He thought she'd fallen asleep again and was just about to drift off himself when she asked, "Where's your friend?"
Jimmy opened his eyes, looking at her. "My friend?"
"The one who tackled me?"
"You mean Buck. He's out in the bunk house."
She closed her eyes, saying, "He has gentle hands."
Jimmy's stomach knotted for some unexplained reason. "I beg your pardon?"
She looked at Jimmy. "Your friend, Buck, he has gentle hands. I bet he's a good horse trainer."
Jimmy didn't understand what she was saying and found himself not wanting to understand.
"Get some sleep," Jimmy ordered.
But she was already on her way. Jimmy closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
Buck looked up from his book when the girl turned in her sleep. She opened her eyes and for a few moments the two stared at one another.
"Good morning," Buck said.
She offered a weak smile. "I apologize for bitin' ya," she said.
Buck smiled, resting the book on his leg. "From the looks of your arm, strangers haven't been very friendly."
She only returned his smile.
"My name's Buck," Buck said.
"I know. Your friend told me."
"Jimmy?"
She nodded.
Buck decided not to wonder why Jimmy hadn't mentioned they had talked. "What's your name?
"Clara," she said.
Buck smiled a little more. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Clara."
"The same to you."
The two didn't notice the silence fall between them. They were too lost in each other's eyes. The door opened and the two looked at it. Emma walked in with a plate of toasted bread and tea. She smiled as she sat the two items down on the bedside table then put her hands on her hips.
"How are you?" Emma asked.
"I don't think I'm going to die yet," Clara joked, smiling a little.
"That's good to hear. I'm Emma."
"Clara."
"You get more rest, Clara. I'll check in a later on. Buck," Emma turned to Buck. "Teaspoon needs your help with the new horse."
Buck nodded. Emma flashed a smile at Clara before leaving the room. Clara looked at Buck when the door closed. He was setting his book down on the table by the tea and toast.
"How long have you had the new horse?" Clara asked.
Buck frowned, shaking his head. "Too long. He has a mean streak in him and he almost broke Teaspoon's leg yesterday when he charged him." Buck looked at Clara. "Teaspoon's my boss."
"You work for the Pony Express?" Clara asked.
Buck nodded. "How did you guess?"
"Jimmy told me last night when we talked."
Buck nodded, continuing, "We bought him cheap. Twenty-five dollars. The previous owner was going to shoot him if we didn't buy him. Claims the horse killed one of his ranch hands. Teaspoon isn't one to put a horse down, but after yesterday, he said he's close. One more stunt like that and he won't have a choice, he said. It's a shame too. He's a strong horse and would be good for this kind of work."
"How are you workin' 'im?" Clara asked.
Buck looked at Clara. "Why are you so interested?"
Clara blushed, answering, "It's…a hobby."
A knowing smile crept across Buck's lips. "Hobby eh?"
Clara smiled, blushing more.
"How about I help you sit up and get to work?" Buck stood and reached out to help her sit up.
Clara grabbed his hands and met his eyes. "Don't let him put him down. Not until I'm better. Promise me."
"He's a dangerous horse, Clara."
"Naw. He's misunderstood. I would think you'd understand that."
Buck stared into her eyes for several long minutes. Something in them seemed to convince him to make the promise.
"I promise."
Clara smiled, sliding her hands up his arms to rest above his elbows. Buck gently helped her sit up in bed and lean against the headboard. He sat down on the edge facing her and handed her a piece of toasted bread. Clara took it and started eating it.
"What happened to your horse?" Buck asked.
"An animal trap. Probably a trap for coyote. She fought it and I couldn't stop her. That's how it got so bad. I knew she wouldn't be able to walk very far so…" Clara looked at the bread in her hand. "I had to put her down."
"You cared about her?"
Clara nodded. She looked at Buck, and again there was silence when their eyes met.
"BUCK!" Teaspoon yelled from outside.
Buck looked at the window, then back at Clara. They smiled at each other.
"Ya'd better go," Clara urged.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Go on now."
Buck stood and picked up his hat. He stopped, looking at her. When their eyes met again, he forgot what he was going to say.
"BUCK! GET OUT HERE SON!" Teaspoon bellowed outside.
"Come back soon, won't you?" Clara quietly requested.
Buck smiled, nodding. He put his hat on and left the room. Clara looked down at the toast in her hand, unable to wipe the smile from her face.
Jimmy stopped in the door. Emma was helping Clara drink some water.
"I'm sorry. I'll come ba—"
"Come in Jimmy," Emma ordered.
Emma helped Clara lay down and sat the glass on the bedside table. She leaned over, laying her hand on Clara's shoulder.
"Jimmy will stay with you for a while we go to town. Don't let him jaw your ear off, okay? Get some rest."
Clara nodded, smiling at her. Emma stood, turning to Jimmy. "Don't jaw her ear off, Jimmy Hickok. And take your hat off in the house."
Jimmy obeyed, blushing a little. Emma walked out of the room. Jimmy sat down in the chair, watching Clara roll over on her side to face him. She smiled.
"I behaved poorly the first time we met. I am truly sorry."
Jimmy smiled. "I understand."
"I apologize for drawing on you like that as well. And shootin' at'cha"
"It wouldn't be the first time," Jimmy said.
"No. I guess it wouldn't be." Clara's smile faded a little.
Jimmy's smile disappeared. "You know about me."
"The truths? Or the lies?"
"Is there a difference?"
"There is if you believe the lies."
Jimmy looked at her. "What is that accent?"
It was Clara's turn to blush. "Irish."
"You're from Ireland?"
"No. My father was. But I grew up around it and I just…inherited it I guess one might say."
"Why are you out here alone?"
Clara looked down as her smile vanished.
"I didn't mean to pry," Jimmy said.
Clara looked at him. "Buck was telling me you have a new horse you're having problems with. Where did you purchase him from?"
"Yeah. We got him from Steve Miller. He lives up north. He said the horse was a man-killer. He's trying to live up to that here. Buck asked Teaspoon not to put him down until you were better. He thought you wanted to try to tame him."
"I don't want to. I will."
"You' sound pretty sure of yourself."
"I am."
Jimmy smiled, "Not to mean any offense, bu—"
"Any sentence that starts out like that ought not to be finished," Clara said, smiling at Jimmy.
Jimmy hesitated before letting out a soft laugh. "You would be right."
Clara covered her mouth when she yawned. She looked at Jimmy. "I should get some rest."
Jimmy nodded.
"Thank you for your help. Really."
"It was nothing."
"It saved my life. It was something."
Jimmy blushed, looking down. Clara closed her eyes, sighing a little. Jimmy sat back, watching her sleep.
The conversation in the bunkhouse dropped off when Emma and Clara stepped inside. Seven pairs of eyes stared at Clara as Emma guided her to the end of the table. Perhaps if Clara had been dressed in something other than her trousers, worn boots and a cotton shirt it wouldn't have been such a shock. Or if her hair had been swept into a bun or pulled back instead of hanging loose and catching the lamplight in its red highlights. Even if she had left her hat in the house instead of holding it in front of her like most men do, it may have helped overcome their shock sooner.
"Boys," Emma said with a hint of warning.
There was a scramble while the boys and Lou set a place for Clara at the end of the table. Clara sat down and there was silence again while Emma got the dishes on the stove ready to serve. She turned with a pot in her hand and looked around the table at the eyes still on Clara. Emma's jaw set in anger.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you boys don't have manners enough to not stare at a guest and make them feel uncomfortable," Emma spat.
Eyes immediately diverted to elsewhere in the room. Emma sat the pot down beside Teaspoon a little too hard. Teaspoon sheepishly looked up at her as he took it and began to serve himself. For a moment there was more silence, and then Cody started talking about local news. The conversation was disjointed with several long pauses at first, but soon it was flowing like a normal night. Jimmy was sitting at the end on Clara's right and noticed she had hardly eaten anything.
"There's always a lot. You can have more," Jimmy said.
"I'm full," Clara said.
"The crows eat more," Jimmy laughed.
"Jimmy, mind your manners. She was sick. Sickness does that to people," Emma explained.
Clara looked down at her hands on the table. The conversation dropped off again.
"Allllright. Since we all know we want to know I'll ask it," Teaspoon said. "Young lady...what happened out there?"
Clara picked up her fork and turned it her hands as she spoke, "Lady Jane stepped in a trap a day before Jimmy and Buck came along. I had to put her down."
"That doesn't tell us why you were out there or how you got shot or why yer dressed like a boy?" Cody blurted.
Lou shot Cody a glare, but said nothing.
"What's wrong with my attire?" Clara demanded with sudden hostility.
"It's just..," Buck started.
Now they were the nervous looking ones. All except Lou.
"The others think a woman shouldn't wear clothes like that," Lou explained flashing a smile at Cody.
"Thank you for clearing that up, Lou," Cody snapped.
Clara's face clouded over, but she didn't say anything.
"It's not very lady-like I think is the point the boys are ineloquently making," Emma said.
Lou looked at Emma, who returned her look calmly.
"I'll be taking my leave and it is no longer any of your concern." Clara got up and stormed out.
"She has a right to wear whatever she wants just like I do," Lou snapped at everyone. She got up and followed Clara.
Jimmy smiled, looking at Cody. He raised his cup to Cody, Emma and Buck.
"For choosing such fine words for our guest," Jimmy said, and then swallowed the last bit of water in his cup.
"Shut up Jimmy!" Cody snapped.
Jimmy chuckled, eating again.
"A girl shouldn't go around dressing like that," Teaspoon said.
Ike signed something and Buck interpreted it, looking shamefaced as he did. "He says we shouldn't judge her by her looks. If that's the case then what about Lou or me or him."
That silenced the bunkhouse.
"Clara!" Lou said, running after Clara.
Clara stopped, spinning. "What!?"
"Cody doesn't think before he talks. He didn't mean any harm. You just got better, you should stay awhile."
"I'll be leaving now. Good night." Clara spun and walked off again.
Lou considered trying again, but decided against it.
"A little late for a walk, isn't it?"
Clara spun, drawing and aiming at Teaspoon. He was standing in the doorway of the tack room. Clara put her gun away.
"I have to leave," Clara said.
Teaspoon scratched his chin. "You can't run from your ghosts forever, young lady."
"As they are my ghosts, Mr. Teaspoon, I don't understand how it is your place to tell me how to deal with them," Clara coldly pointed out, then added, "And if you were a gentleman then you would have asked permission to discuss such personal matters before announcing them in front of others." She motioned to the bunkhouse.
Teaspoon was surprised and impressed with this girl's intelligence. He shrugged a little, saying, "You're right. But you should stay on for a while. You don't have a horse and this isn't the kind of place to be without one. Maybe you could do some work for one of the ponies in the corral."
"I don't do well with womanly work." Clara scorned.
"We have plenty that needs done around here."
"Nothing would suite me. I train horses. If you have horses that need trained, then perhaps we may have something to barter with."
Teaspoon stood up straight, crossing his arms across his chest. "You train horses, eh?"
"Yes."
"Really."
"Yes!"
Teaspoon nodded. "We have six horses just brought off the range. We need 'em by the end of the month. When you're done you can take any one of the company's horses."
"I want the killer horse."
Teaspoon started to argue, "Young lady, I'm sure you're a good trainer, bu—"
Clara interrupted, "If that is not a deal, there is none."
Teaspoon thought before answering. He lifted his arm resting his hand on the doorframe. "You tell me why that one and I'll give you an answer right now."
"He's not a killer."
"No—"
"If he wanted you dead…you would be dead. He's not a killer. He's simply misunderstood."
Teaspoon smiled. He hadn't had an intellectually challenging conversation for years and this late night one was certainly proving to be just that. But he was tired and he made up his mind on the spot.
"It's a deal."
Clara walked up to him, holding out her hand. Teaspoon chuckled, taking and shaking her hand firmly. Clara flashed him a smile, and then headed back to the house. Teaspoon chuckled some more as he turned back inside. He stopped and looked at the bunkhouse.
"Good night boys," Teaspoon called out to it.
In the bunkhouse, they had been crowding around the open window as soon as they'd heard the two talking. In the darkness one of them knocked the stick holding the window open out and the window crashed shut with a loud bang. They scrambled into their bunks and it was silent. And in that darkness now one saw Jimmy or Buck smile for the same reason. Clara would be staying a while longer.
Teaspoon stepped out on the Bunkhouse porch with a cigar in his mouth. He leaned on a porch post, watching Clara. She was sitting on the top rail of a corral separate from the main corral. Inside the killer horse was trotting circles around the confined space.
"She has faith in that horse," Buck said, stopping on the edge of the porch by Teaspoon.
"I hope she knows what she's doing," Teaspoon said. He held his small cigar between his fingers, letting smoke flow out between his lips.
"She has trained three of the six so far. I rode one on my run yesterday," Buck said.
"How was it?"
"A little skittish when we started out but as soon as we got going she was fine."
"I rode one yesterday," Teaspoon confessed. "The little mare was as good as gold. I noticed she was skittish at first too, but I think it's just getting used to a new rider."
Buck smiled, looking at Teaspoon. "We can cut down a lot of our costs by buying wild horses."
"Just what I was thinking, son. I will be sad to see her go when she does." Teaspoon stood and walked off the porch.
Buck looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"Something or someone has her running, son. She won't stay here forever." Teaspoon turned and stepped off the porch. He meandered toward the house, puffing on his cigar.
Buck watched him a moment, then looked at Clara. He suddenly feared Teaspoon was right. She would leave, running from the ghost or person that had almost killed her a month ago.
Jimmy walked past the corral and stopped. He turned and walked to the fence where Clara was setting her tack on the top rail.
"What are you doing?" Jimmy asked.
"Breaking Wildfire," Clara said, nodding to the stallion circling the corral.
"Clara...he's a killer."
"He's not a killer. He's..." Clara paused searching for the right word. "Uncertain."
"Cla—"
Clara turned and faced him. "You ride for the Pony Express. I train for the Pony Express. Why don't we both do our jobs and not tell the other how to do theirs. Deal?"
Jimmy's jaw set. He nodded once.
Clara smiled at him. "Perhaps you should watch. You may learn something."
Clara turned and slipped through the rails. Jimmy climbed to the top rail and sat down. He looked down when he felt the rail move and watched Cody and The Kid sit down beside him.
"We've never seen her work," The Kid said.
The three looked back when they heard people running up and watched Lou and Buck climb up and sit on the top rail. Emma and Teaspoon had followed them out and stood leaning on the third rail.
Clara walked toward the center of the corral, listening to the horse stomping and snorting to her left. Clara stopped and turned to face the horse. He reared, flattening his ears against his head. He lunged as he came down. Clara stepped aside and he shot past her. She turned, facing him again. The horse whirled around to face her. He stood stomping, snorting, and shaking his head angrily. But his show began to lessen the longer she stood facing him. After a while he stood silently, his ears flicking back and forth as he watched her in return.
Clara turned and started walking around the corral. The horse followed behind her occasionally reaching out and sniffing at her arm. She circled the corral six times and the horse made no other attempt to attack her. Clara stopped at the fence, picked up her saddle, blanket, and bridle, and walked out to the center of the corral. The horse watched her intensely. Clara sat the saddle end up on the ground, and then laid the blankets on top of it and the bridle on top of the blanket. She looked at Buck, then the knife strapped to his leg. She walked up to him.
"Let me borrow your knife," Clara said.
"Why?"
"Just let me."
Buck handed it over. Clara picked up a stick and walked back to the saddle. She crouched down and began to widdle the stick. The horse stood on the far side of the corral for a long time, watching her with intense interest. He took a step toward her, stopped and snorted. Clara didn't move. The horse took another stiff step, then another and another until he was standing behind her. He stretched his neck out and sniffed the tack, then sniffed Clara. Clara didn't move until he'd seemed to lose interest in both the tack and her. She slowly stood and walked back, handing Buck his knife. Clara returned to the tack and picked up the bride. She began to fiddle with the bridle, not once making a move toward the horse. Clara started walking around the corral and the horse followed, trying to examine the bridle in her hands. Again Clara waited until he'd lost interest and was simply following her. She stopped and turned to face the horse, still fiddling with the bridle for a little bit more. Clara dropped the reins and put her hands through the headstall, letting it hang from her wrists. She began rubbing the horse's face and gradually worked the headstall of the bridle into her hands and onto the horse. He took the bit without fighting. She tied the reins together and began rubbing his face again, working the reins over the horse's head.
Clara turned and started walking again. The horse followed her as she walked. Clara stopped at the saddle and picked up the blanket. She began picking weeds and debris off of it. The horse again came forward to investigate and when he lost interest, she began rubbing his body with the blanket until it was sitting on his back. He looked back at it then and sniffed it, but appeared unconcerned with it. Clara started walking again. She stopped at the saddle and slowly wrapped the cinch and strap around the saddle horn. She picked up the saddle and turned to the horse. She held it while he sniffed it and investigated it thoroughly. When he lost interest, she slowly lifted it and sat it on his back. Clara let the strap down, looping it through the stirrup to keep it from dragging. She put the cinch down and turned, staring to walk again. The horse followed her, only occasionally turning to investigate the thing on his back.
"I've never seen anything like this," Buck said.
"I imagine you won't ever again, either," Teaspoon replied.
Clara stopped in the center again and very slowly and gently cinched the saddle so it was snug. The horse flinched and shrunk away from her at first. Clara stood still, watching him. He investigated the saddle again but eventually turned and walked up to Clara. Clara stroked his face and neck, not attempting to do anything. After what felt like hours to her audience, she walked to the cinch and finished tightening it. The horse bolted as soon as she tightened it snug. He raced around the corral bucking hard and snapping at the stirrups when they flew forward. But never once did he attempt to attack Clara. His fit slowly ebbed until he stopped at the far end of the corral and investigated the saddle. He turned and walked back to Clara, lowering his head to sniff her hand. Clara walked to his left side and pulled down on the stirrup. He moved away from her but she still pushed down. He stopped moving and turned his head to sniff her shoulder, then stood quietly. Clara reached up and pulled herself half way into the saddle. He snorted and backed a few steps then stopped and sniffed her. Clara let herself down, then pulled herself halfway up again. He didn't move. Clara pulled herself so she was hanging over the saddle. The horse didn't move except for his ears flicking back and forth. Clara slowly eased herself into the saddle and sat. She began investigating her fingernails, picking dirt out from under them. The horse didn't attempt to move. When Clara had inspected all ten fingers, she picked up the reins. She gently pushed her heels into the horse's sides. He jumped.
"This is the fight part, right?" Cody asked.
No one answered him.
The horse stood tense for a few minutes, and then began walking around the corral. They circled the corral about ten times before Clara pulled him to a stop. They stood in the center again while she again inspected each fingernail. Clara gathered the reins again and again pressed her heels into the horse's sides. He started walking right away. Clara gently kicked him and he broke into a smooth trot. The third time he broke into a gentle lope. Clara circled the corral a few times then pulled him to a stop in the center. She slowly dismounted and walked toward the gate. The horse allowed her to lead him out of the corral. Clara got on, looked at the group at the fence, touched her hat brim, turned and rode out into the prairie.
"That's how she breaks the horses?" Lou asked, looking down at Teaspoon.
Teaspoon smiled. "It's no wonder we have three good horses. Come on boys, we have work to do."
Everyone but Buck climbed down. He sat for a few minutes alone, watching where she'd disappeared.
Clara slid her saddle on the saddle rack and looped the bridle over the horn. She turned and started when she found Buck standing there.
"That was amazing," Buck blurted.
"What was?"
"The way you worked with Wildfire."
Clara blushed a little, looking down at her feet. She pushed her hands in her pockets.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" Buck asked.
Clara looked at him. "My father hired a Cherokee stable hand and he taught me. He said it was learning to talk their language."
Buck smiled a little. "It was fascinating."
"I could teach you."
"Me?" Buck's brow furrowed slightly.
"Yes. You have the…'it' that he said I had." Clara laughed a little, walking up to Buck. "For the longest time I never knew what he was talking about, but when I finally figured it out, I found I've spotted it in very few people. But you have it."
"What is it?"
Clara laughed a little. "I don't know. I can't really explain it."
"I'd like to learn," Buck answered.
"I'd like to teach you."
There was a long silence between them. Buck lifted his hand up, laying it on her cheek. When she didn't pull away, he leaned down and kissed her. Clara leaned into the kiss, laying her hands on his face. Buck pulled her to him, kissing her more passionately and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Behind Buck, Jimmy appeared in the door with a brush in his hand. He stopped, staring at them. Rage and hurt threatened to seize control of him. Jimmy turned and walked away, heading for the bunkhouse.
The riders were loud as the walked past the storefronts to the saloon. Buck and Clara were following at the back, laughing at the antics of the others. They turned to go into the saloon and Clara stopped inside the doors. Clara stared at five men sitting around a table playing poker. Buck stopped when he noticed she wasn't following him. Clara looked at him, then turned and ran out. Buck took one step toward the door to follow.
"Buck, come check this out," Cody called from inside the saloon.
Buck looked at Cody, then the door. Cody was standing by a traveling salesman, motioning Buck over. Buck looked up when he heard a horse run past and watched Clara speed out of town.
Buck turned, walking toward Cody.
Buck smiled at Clara as he sat down beside her.
"Why'd you leave town in such a hurry?" Buck asked.
Clara offered a weak smile.
Buck reached out and put his hand on her cheek. She rested her cheek against it, closing her eyes.
"What's happening here?" Clara looked at him, lifting her head.
"What do you mean?"
"Between us."
Buck pulled his knees up to hug them and looked across the loft. He could hear Lou calling to Cody to come and help her. The Kid was talking to his horse Katie below them as he put new shoes on her.
"I love you," Buck said.
Clara reached out, laying a hand on his arm. Buck looked at her.
"Do you mean it?" Clara asked.
Buck nodded.
"I love you too," Clara said.
"Then what is wrong?" Buck asked.
Clara sat back against a bale of hay and hugged her knees. "Before things get to far...between us...there are things you have to know about me." Clara looked at Buck, meeting his gaze. "And if you decide we shouldn't be together afterwards, I understand."
Buck nodded.
Clara cleared her throat and began talking. "Well…when I was born my mother passed away. My father said I reminded him of her in every way. She gave my father eight sons before me. My father was...well...he called himself a Renaissance man." Clara looked at Buck. "Do you know what that means?"
"No."
Clara laughed a little. "I don't either. He said it meant he liked to think deep thoughts and hold nearly heretic ideals and morals. He said the church tolerated him and society loved him, but he didn't belong anywhere. My father had attended a university in England before he came to the United States so I guess that's where he got such big words."
"He was Irish?"
"Yes. And my mother was English. My father's name was Connor Dunn. Outside of the eastern states, most people don't know who he is. He was a trainer of racehorses. He shipped most of them back to England though and ran a few on tracks out East and in the South. When I was about five a man from Scotland bought a place nearby. His name was Duncan McGuire and he was wealthy before he came to the United States. H4 tried hard to ruin my father's reputation and steel my father's business in every way he could think of. Usually he'd try to make people turn against my father saying he hired Negroes and Indians and so on. But my father's reputation far exceeded the lies and his patient way of ignoring Duncan made him the better man. He'd tell anyone who questioned him that if Duncan was worth his ability to train horses then he wouldn't need to slander his name and would, instead, train a horse that could out run any of my father's horses. That always infuriated Duncan. Five years ago my father hired this old Cherokee brave. He was a quiet man and knew only a little English. But I knew his language and could communicate for father. He started teaching me to train horses with 'their language', as he put it. I seemed to know it already because I caught on so fast that I was training horses within in a year. And the difference in training began to show. The horses were more alert, more willing to run. They would always jump from the starting gate and the jockeys hardly ever had to use whips. The ones that we couldn't keep for racehorses we sold as saddle horses and people noticed the difference in the horses' behavior. Father never told them I trained them. He never said he was ashamed that I worked with the horses rather than staying in the house where a woman should be, but there were times I could tell he was. But I so love training horses and even if he had ordered me to the house, I would have disobeyed."
"Is that why you dress as a boy?"
"Yes." Clara chuckled lightly. "It's a little hard to train a horse in a dress."
Buck smiled, nodding. "I imagine it would be."
"Duncan McGuire found out that I was training our horses though. Again he tried to use it to discredit father, but that had a surprising result all of its own. People talked about it all right, but often times they'd say, 'As gentle and well mannered as the horse is, I can see how a woman trained it. It's in a girl's nature to be so gentle and well mannered.' So again, Duncan McGuire's plan was destroyed. Then he sent his son to court me but my father wouldn't even let the boy in to see me. And when the boy left, my father seemed to sense trouble was brewing. He sent me to my Aunt's place the next day and when I came back there had been a gunfight. My father and brother had been killed. The hired help were too scared to talk to the marshal, but the Cherokee told me that it was Duncan McGuire's men. After the funerals, a judge told me that last year my father had willed the farm to me when I married. Duncan McGuire found that out and tried to make me marry him. One night his men kidnapped me and he tried to force me into marriage. I managed to get away and went back to the place to get a horse. I told the hired hands to leave and take the horses with them. If I made it back with a husband, I would hire all of them back and we'd start the place over again. It was that very night I realized how come my father never worked the help hard, always paid them fair and treated them with respect. All of them told me they would keep the horses they took until I returned as long as they could afford it. I swore on my father's grave that night that I would keep the farm going as soon as I could find a husband and I would always treat people as he had taught me. I took Lady Jane and we started west. The first town I stopped at I discovered Duncan McGuire had sent some of his men after me to bring me back. There were eighteen then, but I've been picking them off one at a time and there's thirteen now."
Silence fell between them. Clara looked at Buck and watched him think. Buck looked at Clara finally.
"Would you take me as your husband?"
"What?" Clara asked.
"If I asked, would you?"
"I don't know."
Buck smiled. "Then I don't want to end this. When I feel we are ready I will ask you to be my wife."
Clara threw her arms around his neck, falling into his arms when he opened them for her. Buck hugged her, pressing his face into her hair.
"I love you, Buck," Clara whispered.
Buck smiled. "I love you, Clara."
Clara leaned back and kissed him. From the stairs Jimmy watched them for a minute, then turned and walked back down the loft stairs.
Buck walked out the back doors of the barn pulling on gloves. Someone grabbed him and slammed him against the barn. Jimmy glared at him, holding him against the barn.
"Stay away from her," Jimmy hissed.
"What?" Buck asked.
"You stay away from Clara."
"No!" Buck said.
"You aren't any good for her, Buck. Stay away." Jimmy backed up. "I'm warning you."
Jimmy turned and stormed around the corner of the barn. Buck gathered himself, and then continued walking.
Buck, Jimmy and Kid were trying to get a hole in the barn wall patched up before the dark clouds above let go of another blizzard of snow.
"Hold it," Jimmy said, picking up the hammer.
The Kid held the board in place. Jimmy raised the hammer and aimed for the nail he was holding. But his aim missed and he hit Buck's hand. Buck yanked his hand back, holding his hand.
"Watch it!" Buck yelled over the wind.
"Just hold the board," Jimmy ordered.
Jimmy moved back and held the board but held it lower. Jimmy drove the nail in. The Kid picked up the next board and he and Buck held it again. Again Jimmy's hammer missed its aim and hit Buck's hand. Buck's anger started rising.
"Let me hammer," Buck ordered.
"I can do it."
"You keep hitting my hand."
"Then keep it out of my way."
"It wasn't in your way.
"Hey!" The Kid yelled. "That storm isn't slowing down while you two to fight."
The two moved back to the board, shooting glares at one another. The three finished and headed for the bunkhouse. They reached the stairs and Jimmy and Buck began bickering about who was going up the stairs first. The Kid impatiently waited behind them.
"HEY!" The Kid screamed.
The two turned and looked at him.
"If you two want to stand out here and fight about who's going first, fine. In the meantime, I'd like to get inside and eat supper."
The two backed apart to let The Kid through. He cautiously went between them and up the stairs. He turned at the top in time to see Jimmy punch Buck first. Then the two were rolling on the ground fighting. He jumped off the porch and tried to pull them apart. He jumped back when Jimmy's fist slammed into his side in route toward Buck's side.
"What in tarnations!?" Teaspoon yelled, jumping down beside The Kid.
Together the two managed to pull the two apart but it took Ike and Cody to help keep them apart. The two didn't even think about why the four let them go suddenly until ice-cold water drenched both of them. It knocked the wind out of both of them and they turned to find the person who'd done it was Clara. She tossed the bucket down and put her hands on her hips.
"Please, do entertain us with the cause behind this scuffle," Clara demanded, looking mostly at Buck.
Buck and Jimmy looked away, both men unwilling to say anything.
"Boys," Teaspoon said in his 'answer or there will be hell to pay' tone.
"He started it," Buck said, pointing at Jimmy.
"It was all your fault!" Jimmy yelled.
"What do you have against me anyway? Because I'm not white enough!"
"Maybe so!"
The two lunged again and before they had a chance to throw a connecting blow, they were again drenched with water. This time it was Teaspoon who had done it.
"This isn't like you boys so maybe you should explain this to us," Teaspoon said.
"After those remarks, we're dyin' to know," Lou said.
Jimmy and Buck glared at each other.
"He said I wasn't good enough for Clara," Buck snarled.
"You're not."
"And who are you to judge?" Buck asked.
"She deserves better."
"HOW DARE THE BOTH OF YOU!" Clara screamed.
Everyone looked at Clara. She was glaring at Jimmy. She marched up to him and shook her finger in his face as she spoke.
"How dare you make that decision for me! Who do you think you are Hickok? I had nothing against you until now. I accepted you for who you were and I even came to think of you as a nice man. But you're not! You're selfish and self-centered! Further more, I want some assurance that my husband will come home alive each night, instead of worrying every time he goes out or is late. How dare you judge Buck out of jealousy!" Clara spun, facing Buck. "And if you were a real man, Buck Cross, you wouldn't have fought him. You proclaimed love to me, but do you really understand it? I cannot settle with a man whose answer to name-calling is violence. A name means nothing until you believe in it, just as Jimmy's words were empty until you let yourself believe in them." Clara turned so she could look at both of them. "If you want to be judged, then I judge you. Neither of you deserve me. Good night!"
Clara turned and stormed to the house.
"Boys…get inside and get on dry clothes before you catch ill," Teaspoon said.
The two obeyed without a word. Teaspoon walked up on the porch to join the others, but he was in no mood to comment. Clara had said all the words that needed to be said in the situation.
A person slipped through the bunkhouse door and crept over to Buck's bunk. They slipped something in his coat pocket then moved to his head. The person leaned down and kissed his forehead, then slipped back out. Buck turned in his sleep.
Buck pulled his coat on and reached in his coat pocket to pull out his gloves. He pulled his hand out wrapped around a piece of paper. Buck unfolded it, reading the letter.
Lou was sitting on her bed reading the Bible and noticed Buck's face growing tense with worry. Buck tossed the letter on his bed and ran out of the bunkhouse. Lou looked at Cody. Cody got up and picked up the letter.
"What does it say?" The Kid asked from under Lou's bunk.
Cody looked up at the four, then back down at the letter. "It says: Dear Buck, this is a bad way to leave, but I've caused enough trouble as it is. And those men I told you about will figure out where I am sooner or later. All the horses are trained so my job is done here anyway. As much as I love you, I'd rather leave you with a broken heart instead of dead. Besides, there won't ever be a way for me to explain to Jimmy that it was never meant to be. I wish you well and a loving wife in your future. Clara." Cody looked across the room at Jimmy sitting at the table.
Jimmy had one boot on and still held the other ready to put on.
Ike signed something and Cody nodded, looking at the note. "Yeah, Ike. It's the men Buck told us about the other night."
Lou looked out the window. "Buck's going after her."
"Then so am I," Jimmy said, pulling his boot on.
"We all are," The Kid said, jumping up.
The five pulled on coats and gloves and ran to the barn. They had their horses saddled and were getting ready to leave when Teaspoon came riding into the yard with Buck right behind him. He held a piece of paper out to Jimmy.
Jimmy took it and handed it to The Kid. Kid read over it, then looked at Jimmy.
"Those men after her...they said they'd give her back to us if you fight 'em." The Kid looked at Teaspoon. "One of them, McCain, wants to beat Wild Bill Hickok."
"What are you going to do, son?" Teaspoon.
"Fight," Jimmy said.
"You can't. There are thirteen of them," Buck said
"They need her alive," Teaspoon said.
"Teaspoon, they have her," Jimmy said.
"I know, Jimmy. But I have a plan. Let's start to town."
Teaspoon told them his plan as they rode toward Sweetwater.
Clara struggled against the ropes. The man tying them hit the back of her head with his elbow, stilling her. Clara closed her eyes against the pain. McCain was standing in front of her. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.
"You're lucky, woman, that our boss wants you alive. If I had my way I'd kill you right now." McCain pushed his pistol under her jaw, cocking it. "You killed my brother and I don't take kindly to that. But I'm sure our boss will let me pay you back for that once he owns you."
Clara spit in the man's face and he slapped her hard.
"Damn whore," he hissed, and then stormed out.
The man tying her followed. They shut the door of the shed and she heard the lock slide into place. Clara started looking around for a way to get out of the ropes. She knew Jimmy's pride would bring him to town and her own pride wasn't going to let him die trying to save her. Clara spotted a nail sticking out of a board. She leaned forward on her feet and began inching her way toward the nail. Clara sat with her back to the nail and began rubbing the ropes against the nail. Slowly the ropes began to give.
Sam walked down the street quietly talking to every person he passed. People were quickly clearing the town street and disappearing into their business and homes. Sam reached the livery stable and went inside. He turned to find Teaspoon and his boys putting their drawn guns back in their holsters.
"The town's clear, but I didn't see any of these men you're talking about."
"They're there. Now you three," Teaspoon pointed to Lou, Buck and Cody. "Go with Sam and start combing the South side headin' east. Jimmy, Ike and I will do the same on the North side. We'll stop between the last buildings and signal how many we've found. You see anyone you don't recognize, don't shoot 'em unless you have to. Try not to get shot, boys."
The four nodded and ran out the back. Teaspoon turned to Jimmy.
"Son," Teaspoon started, "I know you have feelings for Clara, but it wasn't meant to be. You stay clear once she's safe. She's Buck's woman and that was her choice to make, not yours"
Jimmy's brow furrowed, but he nodded.
"Let's get this over with then," Teaspoon said, glancing at Ike beside him.
The three cautiously went out the back of the livery and started down the North side of town. One by one, they found six men and knocked them unconscious. Teaspoon instructed them to tie them up and drag them out of sight. When they reached the end of town and Buck and Ike signed to, each other and they discovered there were still three they hadn't found. Ike looked back at Teaspoon waiting for a new set of orders.
Teaspoon looked at Jimmy. "The man that wrote that note may be one of the three or one that we got."
Jimmy thought for a moment, and then looked at Teaspoon. "Let's not take chances. If I get shot in the back, we still don't know where Clara is."
Teaspoon looked at Ike. "Tell them we have to find the other three."
Ike turned and signed to Buck, then turned and followed Teaspoon and Jimmy.
Clara felt the rope break free and stood, pulling it off of her. She grabbed the chair and smashed it on the floor. Clara grabbed two long pieces from the chair and threw one through the window, then stood behind the door. The two men outside ran in. Clara smashed a chair leg on the back of their heads, knocking them out. She turned, opened the door and stared at McCain. She dropped the chair leg in her hand. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in front of him. McCain drug her through the gate into the alley
"I'm here," someone said.
At one end of the alley, Jimmy stood holding his hands clasped in front of him. McCain turned, facing him. He pulled Clara in front of him, drawing his gun and shooting. Jimmy jumped to the side, getting shot in the arm. He ducked behind the fence, standing beside Teaspoon and Ike.
"This isn't a gunfight, McCain. You want to beat me, and then we fight fair. Let her go and I'll fight you.
"I'm going to beat you!" McCain yelled. "She's insurance that I do."
"You won't be known as the man that beat Wild Bill Hickok. You'll be known as a coward," another voice said.
McCain spun. Buck was standing at the other end of the alley with his thumbs hooked in his gun belt.
"Stay out of this half breed."
"If you want to fight me, you have to let her go," Jimmy yelled.
McCain laughed. "I'm not that crazy."
"You won't leave this town alive, McCain. Not unless you beat Hickok," Teaspoon yelled.
"I'm not leaving here alive either way. And neither is she. This whore killed my brother."
"She won't do you much good dead. Duncan wants her alive," Buck said.
McCain aimed at Buck and he lunged, disappearing behind the building. McCain turned, looking at the other end of the alley. He cocked his gun and aimed it at Clara's head.
"I'll kill her if you don't come out here, Hickok."
Jimmy looked at Teaspoon.
"I can't decide this one for you, son. You have to," Teaspoon whispered.
Jimmy looked up, set his jaw and stepped back around the fence. McCain grinned, moving his arm out to shoot Jimmy. Clara stepped back suddenly, throwing him off balance and then surprised him more by dropping. Jimmy drew his gun and shot. McCain staggered back and fell. Clara slowly got to her feet, staring at McCain behind her. Buck ran around the corner to her and the two embraced. The others came out from their hiding places.
"You did good, son," Teaspoon said, patting Jimmy's shoulder.
Jimmy looked at him, then McCain. Teaspoon and the others started down the alley toward the street.
"What I said the other day, Buck," Jimmy started. Buck and Clara looked at him. "I was wrong. And it isn't my place to decide for you Clara. I'm sorry."
Clara smiled. She turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As she was stepping back, her face went blank suddenly. Clara snatched Jimmy's gun from his holster, spun and shot. McCain hadn't been killed by Jimmy's bullet. It had passed through his side. And Clara's shot had shot the gun right out of his hand, taking a finger with it.
"Clara, give me the gun," Jimmy said quietly behind her.
Clara didn't move.
"He doesn't have to die," Jimmy said, stepping toward her.
Clara still didn't move. Jimmy reached for the gun and she elbowed him in the stomach, sending him back a few steps. In that same moment, McCain pulled a gun he'd had in his waistband behind him. Clara shot again and the bullet made its deadly mark right between his eyes. McCain fell silently backward, the gun only half way around his body in his tensed hand. Clara turned and handed Jimmy back his gun. He grabbed the handle she held out and looked at her when she didn't let go.
Clara pulled the gun closer to her, pulling Jimmy closer to her as well. In a low, stern voice she said, "If you intend on killing a man, the heart or the head. If you intend on wounding a man, you had better fear your own shadow. Do you understand me?"
Jimmy hesitated before nodding.
Clara let his gun go and moved into Buck's arms. Buck wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. Jimmy looked at them, his gun, then McCain. He realized his mistake had been in not wanting the man to die. His grief was in that Clara had to kill McCain herself. And his surprise was that she had drawn faster than anyone he'd ever met including himself.