"I think she's getting better, don't you?"

Ike followed Cora's eyes across the yard to where ten year old Maisie was playfully chasing his three year old son around in circles. The boy was laughing and squealing and even though not a sound came from Maisie's mouth, Ike could almost see the sparkle in her eyes from where he stood. He squeezed Cora's hand and smiled back at her.

Cora had been enough of a miracle in his life. He had always been on the outside of life looking in, it seemed. He could communicate after a fashion but he had to have someone to translate and it took longer and required more attention and patience than an ever accelerating world wanted to give to him. He had friends and for that he was grateful. But he watched his brothers pair off, saw them dance at town socials, saw them ride off for picnics with pretty young ladies. Those were not the kind of things he could look forward to in his life. He looked different, he talked different…he was just too different.

But then it happened. He was on a ride and he heard screaming from a small house on a modest farm. He rode as fast as he could to get there and found her. Cora. He didn't know her name then but it was her. She was terrified. A man was dead at her feet—her father, Ike later learned—and one of the men he assumed to be responsible held her. Another man stood and held a gun to her. It was obvious what they wanted.

She was screaming something about how they already had all there was to take but Ike knew there was something more that could be taken and he needed to stop it. He was riding as hard as he could and hearing her frantic words and their threatening ones carry to him. He was not in shooting range just yet but if he didn't do something, this woman would be hurt in ways she might not recover from.

Ike didn't know what to do. His voice had failed his parents. It had failed that woman on the stage. It had failed him and those he loved often…not just often, always. It had always failed. The others might say he was no less a man for not talking but he knew. He knew inside himself that for want of a voice, he had failed to keep those he loved safe and that made him less a man. It made him less a human being.

He could feel tears of helplessness burn his eyes as the rage welled up within him. Rage at these men, rage at those who took what they wanted no matter the cost to others, rage at himself.

"Stop!"

The word rang out in the newly quiet and still air. Ike had looked around a moment thinking someone else had heard this woman's cries as well. But there was no one but him. He was now in close enough range that brandishing his weapon would be worth the effort. He took a breath and closed his eyes hoping that the previous outburst was no fluke.

"Leave her alone!"

The man not holding onto Cora turned to fire on him but Ike shot first and dropped him where he stood. The other man released Cora and his grip on his weapon.

It felt strange for a while to be able to speak after not hearing his voice for so long. When he had last heard his voice it had been a child's. Now it was a man's voice. He still signed most things he said just out of habit but it had felt so good to be able to speak without the usual difficulties.

He spent as much time with Cora as he could though only Buck knew where he was going when he disappeared for periods of time. The farm was now hers and she did a respectable job of running it but Ike couldn't shake the need or the want to help her.

It wasn't long before he returned to the station with news that he was quitting the Pony Express to marry Cora. The others were surprised but happy for him. It hadn't taken long for him to know he was in love with her. Teaspoon asked many times if he was sure about a decision reached so quickly. But Ike knew it was the best decision he'd ever made in his life.

Cora squeezed his hand bringing him back to the present and their son Jake—named for Cora's father—squealing with delight as he dodged Maisie's grasp. Of course the girl was letting him get away to prolong the game and the fun for the boy.

It was true, she was getting better. She still didn't talk and Ike knew he might never know exactly what terrible events had robbed her of her voice. He also knew he probably didn't want to know. She had been brought to the orphanage bruised and battered and had never made a sound. Doctors had examined her and found nothing wrong with her voice or throat. Ike understood though. She might never talk again or she might find her voice tomorrow. It didn't really matter to him. She was a precious blessing from God. As precious as Jake and just as miraculous a gift.

He had taught her to speak in sign as Buck had taught him. Every day she grew stronger and happier. She smiled more and to look at her, you'd never know anything separated her from any other ten year old girl. Her cinnamon colored hair strained at the braids that Cora forced it into every morning and her freckles seemed strewn across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as stars in the night sky. His little girl. He could not think of anything as precious as his family.

Ike sat a while longer on the porch as Cora rounded up the children to wash up for supper. There was a time when he thought he could have nothing good in his life and now he had everything he had ever desired. And it was just as sweet as he imagined it might be.

Soon his thoughts were interrupted by Cora calling him to come and eat. With a quick glance upward in silent thanks he stood and headed inside.

The day before had been a special day. They had celebrated Maisie's birthday. It wasn't her actual birthday. No one knew when that was but it was the anniversary of the day they brought her home from the orphanage. It had been one year since she had come and put the finishing touches on their family. They had Maisie's favorite meal of roast chicken and there had been cake for dessert. Cora had made her some new dresses and Ike had carved her a toy horse. She so loved animals—he understood that as well. Animals never judged or laughed. They had scrimped and saved until they could go into town and buy her a real porcelain doll as well. Her sparkling blue eyes had lit up at the sight of the doll. Ike thought his heart might explode seeing her joy.

Tonight there was venison stew. It was hearty and good as always. Cora was a very good cook and he had filled out nicely living on her cooking. When the stew was finished, Ike began to push his chair away from the table but Maisie's knock brought his attention to her.

'I have a surprise,' she signed with a smile.

Ike sat back down and watched as Maisie stood and went to the stove and carried the big cast iron skillet to the table and set before him an apple pie. Ike closed his eyes taking in the aroma of the cinnamon and apples.

"Did you make this, Maisie?"

She nodded smiling at him.

"All by yourself?"

Again she nodded. Cora stood behind the girl nodding in confirmation. Ike looked down at the pie ready to slice it so that it could be served but Maisie placed a hand on his shoulder. It had taken months for her to touch him or allow him to even put an arm around her. Even now that she regularly hugged him and accepted his hugs; he was affected by contact with her. He earned her trust and it hadn't been easy. He would never take such a thing for granted.

"Was there something else?"

She blinked and swallowed and her brow wrinkled as she took a deep breath. A squeak escaped her and that alone nearly made Ike jump up and pull her into a tight hug. It was the first sound he had ever heard from her. But she wasn't done. She was trying to speak. Really trying. He took her hand and nodded his encouragement.

Her other hand was still on his shoulder and she patted him.

"Pa," she said at last. It was soft and if he hadn't been listening for it, he might have missed the lone syllable.

He caught it though. He caught it and all its meaning. Behind Maisie he could see Cora's hands fly to her mouth as she gasped and began crying her joy. He could feel the tears making tracks down his cheeks as well.

More words were spoken that night as they all enjoyed the pie Maisie had made. Her words were tentative and unsure that night but as time passed, she spoke and laughed and sang as any other child.

The years flew by as they are want to do and Maisie grew into a beautiful and confident young woman. She was even able to tell Ike and Cora of her life before the orphanage. It had been filled with horrors and terrible things but her story only made Ike more grateful for the blessings in his life—and more certain of the divine hand that had led them to her.

Maisie made apple pie often and it became one of Ike's favorite treats but never did it taste as sweet to him as the night when his little girl first called him Pa.

This one was especially fun to write...Ike doesn't get enough love. It makes me sad sometimes that he doesn't. So I wrote him a nice family! Yay!

Okay...we are past the halfway point of this series and I have to thank the beautiful Myrtle for being my wingwoman on this trek. I would not be able to bring you these stories without her help. I just wouldn't. A round of applause for Myrt everyone! Stand up and take a little bow, Myrtle my love!-J