A/N This is a departure from my usual sci-fi but I have been reliving my childhood. Then the plot bunnies demanded to be heard, so here we are. I tried to keep it at least sort of historically accurate while staying in the world of Young Riders so please forgive any errors.

Mourning a Friend

The man leaned against the fence on his forearms watching the new mare prance around the corral as he listened to his sons goading each other into more and more ridiculous stunts, to take place at the church social the following week. He briefly thought about putting a stop to the foolishness, but the truth was they worked faster when their mouths were running. He shook his head thinking back, knowing that he had been just as foolish, maybe more so, than his teenage sons. He had only been a year older than his oldest when he left home to head out west. Heaven only knew what he would do if his children tried that. It was not in him to be a hypocrite but he did not want his children roaming the country alone. He knew firsthand the dangers that were out there. Hopefully all the stories he and his wife had told them over the years would keep all five of them close to home. With another shake of his head he entered the corral and set about his own work for the afternoon. Thoughts of his sons' shenanigans were long gone when he looked up at the sound of a wagon.

"Kid!"

He chuckled at the sound of his name. It just got funnier the older he got, and his fortieth birthday was coming at the end of the year.

"Noah, Louis!" he yelled to his sons.

The boys came running to watch the wagon approach. Lou was driving the wagon loaded with supplies and girls toward him and the boys. He smiled again remembering his sons' earlier conversation and thinking how his wife had played a role in quite a bit of his own youthful foolishness. That smile died as his girls got closer. The look on his wife's face told him everything he needed to know, something bad had happened. As soon as the wagon pulled to a stop in front of the barn he nodded to Lou before turning to the trio that would be the death of him.

"Girls, go help your brothers unload. And Sally," he turned to help his youngest, down as he addressed her. "No playing around. You can carry the smaller stuff." Before there could be any form of feminine protest, he added, "Go."

A chorus of yes pa's followed him as he moved to help Lou down from the wagon and guided her to the side of the barn towards the corral. When they were safely out of earshot he turned back to her. "What is it, Lou?"

There were now tears in her eyes, and his heart tripled its tempo. "I saw the newspaper while I was in the general store. It was a couple of weeks old. You should read it for yourself."

She handed him the beat up paper he had not noticed in her hand. The front page read Wild Bill Hickok Dead in large, bold letters. His rapid heartbeat stopped, and his legs went numb. He barely noticed as he sank to the ground, held upright only by a corral post. He stared at the bold letters until he felt Lou's hand on his shoulder. He read the article three times before the words began to sink in. The paper stated the facts and very little else. It did not say any of the things he knew to be true: that he was a man who fought for what he believed, a man who had finally found someone who made him happy, a man who was afraid of his own impending mortality. Above all else, he was a man who had friends that loved him and would mourn him, not just as the hero of dime novels, but as a family member.

He could not bring himself to move from his place in the dirt, nor to acknowledge his family. He heard Lou telling the kids to finish their chores even as he felt her sink to the hard ground next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. She turned her face into his chest and began to cry the tears he knew she had been holding back. His own tears flowed unchecked as they sat on the hard ground. Slowly, the tears stopped and he dried his face with the handkerchief that he had tied around his neck that morning. Lou used his shirtsleeve for the same purpose before giving him a guilty grin that showed all her sadness.

He cleared his throat of the remaining lump lodged there and asked, "Did the paper come in with the stage?"

"Yeah, earlier this week. We just heard from him, Kid. Just a few months ago."

"I know. He seemed happy. It feels like he was just here. I know it's been more than a year but –"

"He's family. Of course it feels like it hasn't been that long."

He let out a huff of a laugh. "A short visit goes a long way. I never thought he would ever be comfortable around kids, but he sure loved Naomi and Sally Jo."

"They loved him right back. I've never seen two little girls so taken with anyone."

"It's going to break their hearts," he whispered. The thought of telling them broke his own heart.

He looked down at the wrinkled paper in his lap and once again read the headline. His friend was gone. He knew that his visits were likely to come to an end soon after the last one. Jimmy had come to sit beside him on the porch after supper the night before he was supposed to leave and said as much. Said he had problems with his eyes and they both knew how dangerous it would be to travel nearly blind. He had agreed, but made him promise to send letters, even if someone else had to write them. They had smiled and shook hands, it was a deal. They had received a letter a little over four months ago saying he had married a woman named Agnes. Lou had been shocked and Sally had cried herself to sleep that night. She had been planning on marrying him herself.

Lou's forehead hit his shoulder with a painful thud and an accompanying groan. "Oh no. I bet his wife is devastated. Not even married a year and already a widow. I should write her."

"Why don't you wait 'til tomorrow? Give yourself some time to think what to say?"

"Alright," she agreed looking up at the sky. "It's getting close to suppertime. It's Lily's night so I should go make sure she doesn't burn the stew. That girl's cooking is almost hopeless." He laughed and kissed the top of her head before standing to help her up, knowing that if anyone could burn stew it would be his oldest daughter.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of horses and hay and a deep, hurting ache in his chest. The whole time his mind replayed the words written by some stranger. He watched as the boys took turns working with the mare, making sure they were paying attention and not working her too hard. Then it was on to the feeding and the other end of day chores. He listened to the boys talk about all the things boys their age talked about, but never joined in their conversation, content to listen and remember all the conversations he had had with Jimmy. The ones that sounded similar to the ones his boys were having. Their joking and teasing were hushed as they picked up on his need for peace.

The mood in the house that evening was quiet and solemn. It was as if the children sensed their parents' need for quiet. Even the twins, Lily and Louis were in a holding pattern with their arguing. Since supper was Lily's responsibility his wife had supervised and made sure the stew edible and the cornbread was only slightly crispy. Lou and the younger girls had made cobbler for dessert, saying she needed something sweet to cheer her up. Through it all he could see his own grief in Lou's eyes.

Finally, about an hour after the dishes were washed and put away everyone was in the living room. It was time for him to find his courage to once again look at the newspaper. He took a deep breath and told the children the news. As he and Lou had been expecting, Naomi and Sally started crying. The older kids were equal parts stunned and saddened. They wanted all the details, so he handed the paper over to Louis who read the article out loud for siblings to hear. In the end, everyone decided it would be a good idea to make it an early night. It took some extra cuddling for the youngest two, even though twelve year olds do not cuddle, according to Naomi, but eventually all the tears stopped.

Not long after the children were settled for the evening he joined Lou in their bedroom. She was sitting on the bed staring at the newspaper. "I think I'm going to put this in the memory chest. We need to remember this," She said quietly.

He took the paper from her and placed it on the bureau. "We'll do that tomorrow. Come on. You're exhausted. Let's call it a night."

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet before turning down the sheets. They readied for bed in a heavy silence. Before lying down he grabbed a handkerchief from the bureau, because he knew his wife would need it. As they lay in bed, he heard Lou occasionally sniff and handed her the handkerchief even as he gathered her to his chest. As she cried he thought about his friend. Jimmy would hate that Lou cried for him, and would have never let him live it down that he had cried his own tears. His friend would also think that he did not deserve anyone's tears. As they had always been opposites, he would have disagreed with him, and that thought made him smile just a little.

The moon slowly rose in the sky and Lou's breathing smoothed from sniffles and hiccups into a deep sleep as he laid there with her curled into his side, still holding the handkerchief. In the quiet night he thought back through the years. Memories, both good and bad, played through his mind as he remembered his friend. It was a friendship that had seen the worst the country could throw at them and still survived. That friendship had run deep for a long time. His oldest son's middle name was James in honor of that friendship. There were many times the two of them had wanted kill each other, and there had been more than one fist fight, but at the end of the day they were family. Teaspoon's words from decades earlier echoed through his mind. Family is family. With the moon high in the sky he let a tear fall from his eyes as he whispered "Goodbye Jimmy," before falling asleep.