Author's Note: This is a little something I wrote one night out of boredom. It's a little raw yet. Not sure if it's worth continuing. So if you like it and/or have suggestions please let me know. Some may recognize the Original Character from a story I took down. This story would have taken place about 6 or 7 years after that. Even if you didn't like the other one, please give this a try.

Wondering why nothing ever went right for me I shook my head in frustration. Being honest with myself I had to admit I created a lot of my own problems, including this one. It was my fault for taking too long getting back to the station. It wasn't my fault really. The store by the station had such cute things. In the back they had some second hand clothes barely used, including some that fit exactly. Finding a few things for myself, I also bought him a handsome grey suit with a tie to match. They were so nice I couldn't help but stop and get a few things. With no idea when we'd be back home and have a chance to make desperately needed new clothes I had to buy them. So that was one problem solved.

However I now have a bigger problem and I don't know what I'm going to do. I've missed the train. Without a doubt looking at the hour on the station clock the stage would be gone too.

"Sweet Mother of Earth what am I going to do now?", the words were out of my mouth before I thought better of it. I hadn't meant to, but often found myself talking out loud when distracted. With that phrase being the one I usually muttered. It was something I've been saying for years. It was almost second nature by now.

Busy digging through my purse I set down the bags on the bench. I didn't realize anyone approached until I heard his surprised questioning voice, "Nightingale?"

I knew that voice, I heard it every night in my dreams. Only three people alive called me Nightingale. Not even my half-brother Hawke called me by that name. One of the three allowed to use it was my father's friend, and my godfather, Cotton Thorpe. Right now Cotton was either in Wayford Station or somewhere on the Prairie far from here. The other two men who called me Nightingale had moved back to Sweetwater when the Pony Express ended. They wouldn't be anywhere around here. Or so I thought.

Turning slowly I saw eyes I knew so well. Eyes I had once spent countless hours staring into. The surprise in my voice obvious even to own my ears as I whispered, "Is that really you?"

How long had it been since I had last saw him? Almost in shock I felt myself fall to the bench. Feeling a poke in the arm I looked to my traveling companion sitting on the bench guarding our bags.

"Momma I'm hungry", the little boy complained. How long had it been indeed? I didn't need to count. living proof was right in front of me. It had been a little over four years since I left Rock Creek.

"Just a minute Ike. We'll go get something to eat in just a minute", my strained soft voice trailed away. I wasn't sure Ike even heard me. He was busy playing with his wooden horse, a gift from my cousin Moses.

"Mamma guess what? Guess what?", Ike repeated excitedly. Without waiting for me to answer he rushed on, "That man looks just like me and Uncle Hawk. Just like my papa and gampa did too. Right mama? Is that man an Indian like me?"

"Gale?", I heard the question in Buck's voice. Without a doubt I knew what he was asking. What could I say?

Looking up at Buck I met his eyes almost pleading for understanding as I answered, "Yes, Ike just like you."

"Guess what?", Ike moved on excitedly speaking to Buck. Getting close to the four year old, who never seemed to stop talking, Buck stared in amazement. It was a safe bet that Ike got his talkativeness from my grandpa Teaspoon and me. Although at the moment I was at a loss as to what to say to Buck.

Ike rambled on, never at a loss for words, "Wanna know somethin' Mister?"

"Sure, what?", Buck said looking intently at the little boy in front of him. Ike looked so much like his father. His skin was a bit lighter in color. It was a mixture of my color and Bucks coloring. And Ike shared our dark hair color. However mine was prone to curls while Ike's, like his father's, was straight as a lance. True to the little boy's heritage and as a tribute to his father I left it long. Though it was his eyes that reminded me every day of the man I loved so much I left him.

"My papa was an Indian too. My papa was a good man. Not like that bad man who hurt momma and made her run away. Momma…"

"Husk Ike", I commanded slapping my hand over the boy's mouth.

I didn't have to look at Buck to know that he was staring directly at me. I didn't have to look because I felt it. How was I going to get out of this one? Did I tell him the truth? If so how? Again I was at a loss for words.

Ike wasn't. He inadvertently made my decision for me when he removed my hand and said, "My papa's name is Running Buck and I'm named after his friend Ike..."

The boy's voice trailed off as I dropped my head into my hands. This situation was rapidly getting out of my control. I was afraid to look at Buck, so I hid my face. My little boy was standing on the bench and moved next to me. I could feel him wrap his arms around my neck. Sadly he said, "I'm sorry momma. I didn't mean to mention papa's name and make you cry again."

I wondered if things could get any worse when I heard Ike continue, "She cries a lot over papa. She misses him somethin' fierce."

Whipping up my head I caught Buck's eyes. As I turned to face my son Buck said, "Is that so?"

Ike was nodding his head at Buck when I looked at my son and shook my head no. I was willing him to stop talking. I needed a minute to think. Ike continued as if he didn't see me, "She cries every night. Only my hugs can make momma stop crying. She cries more than me cause I'm a big boy."

Suddenly I was wishing the world would swallow me whole. How could I explain things to Buck? They knew I was alive but none of them knew about Ike except my brother Hawke, my cousin Moses, and Cotton. Occasionally I sent letters to Teaspoon and Jimmy to let them know I was still alive. All of the letters were sent general delivery from various places where Hawke or Moses would mail them for me. Moses was the red haired white skinned son of my father's half-brother Judge "Red" Coultre. We were all wildly different in looks and personality. However having grown up together through difficult times the three of us had an almost unbreakable bond. Whether the men agreed with me or not they accommodated my wishes and kept silent.

Also after what happened to me at the hands of Cotton's younger brother Drake they felt they owed it to me. Their first priority had been keeping me safe. When they found about Ike it became even more important. Cotton swore he'd find and stop his younger half-brother. Until that time protecting us meant keeping silent about Ike and me. So the men kept silent and never said a word to any of the riders. To be honest for a time even Hawke and Moses didn't know where I was. I had gone into hiding to protect Buck, but more importantly the baby I carried.

It was until Ike was almost six months old that I sent word to Hawke. Drake had come close to finding me too many times for me to continue without his help. I figured by then Buck would have quit looking for me, if he even had looked at all.

Lost in thought about the past I didn't realize that Ike and Buck were carrying on a conversation. Buck had sat on the bench with Ike in between us. Ike was carrying on about his wooden horse and how much he liked horses. He wanted to be a good rider someday like his papa he said.

"Does your momma talk to you about your father much?", I heard Buck ask tearing his eyes away from his son for a second to look at me.

"Every night momma tells me stories about him when she tucks me in", the little boy answered. Ike was now facing the back of the bench making the little horse ride across the back. He giggled and added, "Momma lays down next to me and hugs me when she tells me stories. Momma sometimes falls asleep and I sneak out of bed to play with my horses."

"Momma, I'm still hungry. My tummy's crying", Ike stated dramatically putting his hands on his hips as he turned to look at me. The sudden switch in topics seemed to surprise Buck, but I was used to it. Ike was right too, his tummy was crying. It was audibly grumbling right now. Ike rubbed his tummy put his hands back on his hips and gave me his look. That look with those eyes reminded me of his father. How often had Buck given me one of his looks when he was disgruntled with me?

Despite the situation I couldn't help but laugh. He may look like his father but in many ways he tended to act like me. Even Buck, though he had to be sore at me, smiled.

"There's a couple of hotels with restaurants down the street we could try", Buck said evenly. There was something in his tone and in the look in his eyes that said I wasn't going without him regardless of what I wanted.

"Momma, momma, can we go to the Huwnter's Log?", Ike asked excitedly.

Buck arched an eyebrow at me and I said, "Ike I told you, it's called Hunter's Lodge."

Pretty much ignoring me Ike turned to Buck and said, "Guess what?"

Smiling at him, Buck seemed enthralled with the boy, "What?"

"Momma's cousin and my Uncle Hawke owns Huwnter's Log. It's named after my gampa Huwntin Bear. He was the bestest tracker." Pausing for a second Ike seemed to be thinking really hard on something before he said, "Except for maybe my papa."

"Guess what? Guess what?", Ike began again.

Trying to contain a chuckle Buck said, "What this time?"

"I don't say this to momma but I think papa's gonna find us someday. My papa didn't get to meet me." Pausing Ike looked at Buck gravely and said, "Mister do you think my papa will love me a bunch?"

"Yes," Buck began running his hand through Ike's hair, "I think your papa will love you a bunch."

Smiling like he had a secret Ike said quietly to Buck, "Are you goin somewhere? We were, but not no more. Momma made us miss our twain. Now we're stuck until momma can fix it. We've been on a long trip and we was goin' to visit Uncle Hawke. What are you doin?"

"I was looking for something. I traveled a long way looking for it and I've been looking for it a long long time", Buck answered the little boy while looking at me.

"Wow. Was it 'portant? Was it a tweasure?", Ike was all excited. He hurriedly continued, "Must be 'portant if you've been wookin a long time. Was it tweasure? Huh mister?"

Looking at Ike, then me, and back to Ike Buck continued, "Yes, it is something very important to me. I've been looking for over four years for it. Though the treasure is even greater than I imagined."

"What is it? Is it gold?" Authoritatively Ike explained, "Some think gold awfully 'portant, but I think somethin' else is more 'portant."

"Oh and what's that?", Buck asked, which I wish he hadn't. Dropping my head back into my hands I knew what was coming next. It was a little game between Ike and I.

"Momma's hugs and kisses", Ike giggled.

"Yes", Buck nodded his head. Seeming to choose his words carefully as he looked at me, "You're right Ike they are pretty special. Then again your momma is pretty special."

"I'd wook for my momma a wong, wong time if she got wost." Whispering to Buck Ike said, "Though I gots to make sure she don't. Cuz she'd be awfully scared without me. Also cuz there'd be no one to hug momma when she cries over papa."

Slapping my hand over Ike's mouth I said, "Ike that's enough. Let's go get you something to eat and a room for the night."

As we stood up Buck grabbed for my bags in addition to his one. I'm guessing he didn't want me to try running off without him. Pulling my attention back Buck said, "It's gonna be hard getting a room tonight. There are a lot of people in town for some meeting. That also means it'll be too dangerous for you and Ike to stay outside."

Tugging at Buck's vest Ike drew his attention. Smiling Ike explained, "That won't be no trouble for momma. Member? Momma's cousin owns Huwnter's Log."

When I gave Ike a look he paused and looked from me back to Buck and continued, "I mean Hunter's Wodge. The man who runs it always gives momma a room cuz he's afraid of her and Uncle Hawke. The man at the hotel said when riled Uncle Hawke can be a mean son of a….."

"Ike!"

"Sorry momma. I's fogot. Momma can be awfully scary when she's mad too." Ike rushed on, "She don't scare me though cuz she don't get that mad at me. Well most of the time she don't. 'Sides my momma'd never hurt me cuz she loves me. I'm her Little Buck, just like my papa was her Running Buck."

Quietly Buck stared over his sons head at me. Buck looked a bit overwhelmed by his son, most folks were. That boy could talk non-stop and never tire of his own voice. As we walked out of the station Ike handed me his horse so he could take my hand and with the other he took Buck's. Looking up at Buck he asked, "Do you have an Indian name?"

It was nearing supper time and the streets were clearing as people went to eat. I knew we'd have no issues getting supper even if the family dining room was full. Usually they put us in a private dining room because of Ike's skin color. Part of it was because Ike never stopped talking even when he was eating. Now having Buck with us I knew they'd put us in a private room for sure, but no matter what they'd give us food. Honestly Ike was right, they were afraid of Hawke, with good reason. Hawke was a silent partner in the hotel, but was not silent when Ike and I weren't treated right. One man didn't treat us well and he no longer worked at the hotel. One day he just didn't show up for work and no one ever saw him again. The story was that he offended Hawke because of some woman. That was something Hawke wouldn't allow so he killed him. Truth was Hawke had words with the man. He scared the man so much that the guy took up & fled back East leaving everything. Of course since the reputation helped him and because he didn't talk to anyone much Hawke let the story stand.

Buck looked over Ike's head at me indecision in his eyes. Ike's question was still hanging between us. Buck didn't seem to know how to answer. Looking down at our son I answered for him, "Yes Ike, he does have an Indian name. His name is Running Buck."

I wasn't sure how Ike would react. Better a meltdown here in the street than in the hotel. Ike stopped and looked between the two of us. Settling back on Buck he asked with wide eyes, "Does that make you my papa?"

Again I answered for Buck who seemed incapable, "Yes, Ike he is your papa."

"Why's didn't yous come for momma?", Ike asked sadly.

"I tried", Buck said crouching down to Ike the pain obvious in his voice. "I didn't know where to find your momma. I've been looking for her all this time. I never stopped. That's why I was here today."

"Did you know that momma hid to pertect us? Momma didn't want that bad man to find us. He almost did but Momma out smarted him. Momma said yous didn't know about me. That's why you didn't wook for us none. Momma said if yous knew about me yous wouldn't stop lookin' for me never." Buck nodded his head yes then ran his hand through Ike's hair and brushed it off his face. There were tears in Buck's eyes. Oh how I had hurt him. Ike didn't seem to notice the tears. Sounding very authoritative he announced, "I told momma you'd be wookin' for us. Papa, I knew you wouldn't quit wookin' for mama. She told me I was wrong and cried so I quit tellin' her. But at night when I went to bed I pwrays to my gampa and his papa Soarin' Eagle who are with the Spirits. I told them to bring you to us so momma wouldn't cry no more."

Buck looked up at me, but I quickly turned my head away. I couldn't meet his gaze. I didn't want to see what was there. Too much time had passed and too much pain had been caused. I ran to protect us all, but I had deprived them both of each other for the last four years. There's no way that could be forgiven. I had denied Buck his son's birth, first steps, and first words. I wasn't sure I wanted to be forgiven.