Monica did not join the others for breakfast and that disappointed Buck. He wasn't sure if he had done something wrong. Maybe he shouldn't have kissed her the night before; maybe that was too forward. It seemed a strange thought given the nature of their relationship but then things were different and he had already figured out that they had to start all over again. He wanted to ask Rachel if Monica was upset with him but there was not a time when he could get her alone and he didn't need everyone hearing his business. So he just went to start on his chores. Heading toward the corral, he saw her sitting on a rocking chair on the porch holding Nessa and heard the same song he remembered from their night together.
He smiled at her and called "good morning" and was rewarded with a genuine smile. He was struck once again by how beautiful she was when she smiled. He felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder and heard Cody's voice low in his ear.
"If you don't want them," he said earnestly, "Stand aside. You can't have a woman smile like that at you and not do anything about it."
Buck understood that Cody was joking but that there was a serious note to his words as well. And he knew them to be true. He did have to do something but he hadn't the slightest idea what. He didn't have much experience courting a woman nor was his luck very good when he tried.
Monica watched him set to work while she rocked and held Nessa. Soon Rachel came to sit beside her.
"That's a lovely tune," said Rachel, "Did your mama sing it to you?"
"Yes."
The two women sat in silence for a while before Monica spoke.
"He thinks I want something," she managed at last.
"I have to admit," confessed Rachel, "That's what I thought when you first showed here. But are you sure you don't?"
"I want many things," Monica replied, "I came here to ask nothing."
"What do you want?"
"I want his love. I want him," she wasn't sure if she was being too bold to say these things out loud but it felt so good to have another woman to share her confidence.
"Does he know that?"
"He knows I love him."
Rachel thought a moment and then stood. She held out her hands for the baby.
"I'll tell you what," she said to Monica, "You go in and find yourself something pretty to wear. You know where my room is and I think we're near to the same size. You get yourself all prettied up-leave your hair down-and come on out here. I have a plan."
Monica made to protest but Rachel shook her head.
"You just fed her and she's the sweetest baby, I'll take care of her while you fuss over yourself a bit."
Monica went inside to do as she'd been told, she felt wrong going through the other woman's things but there was a light blue dress, the color of the sky as it had been the morning Buck rode away from her and she was drawn to it.
Outside, Rachel stood on the porch with Nessa for a minute before heading to the corral. She walked up to Buck who looked at her questioning.
"I thought you might want to say good morning to your daughter."
He gladly took the bundle from her arms and stood transfixed and staring into those impossibly deep eyes.
"Good morning little one," he said and then looked to Rachel, "You think she knows who I am? You think she knows we share so much?"
"I don't know what babies know for sure," Rachel answered, "But I believe they know when they are loved."
"I never knew my father," he said so quietly that she had to strain to hear, "What if I do this wrong?"
"You know what you needed from a father, even if you didn't have one," she said, "I think if you take that and how much you love her-and I can see that you love her-you'll do just fine."
"Is her mother upset with me?"
Rachel nearly laughed at the insecurities of these two young people.
"No," she said with a smile, "She was worried you were upset with her. I sent her to get ready for the picnic you're taking her on today."
"The what?" he asked.
"You heard me," she said matter of factly, "And you should get ready too. It wouldn't hurt if you cleaned up a bit. I'll take the baby."
He reluctantly handed Nessa over to Rachel and was grateful for the soft sent of her that clung to his clothes. Buck looked a moment more at the baby before setting off to get cleaned up.
A short while later, Buck approached the house and stood uncertainly on the porch. Before he could raise his hand to knock, the door swung open and in the doorway stood Monica. His breath was taken from him at the sight of her. She was wearing a dress he thought he had seen before on Rachel but he had to say, as beautiful a woman as Rachel was, she held not a candle to Monica that day. Monica had unwound her hair and the result was dark waves that cascaded to her waist. She smiled unsure at him and he beamed at her almost sorry that they weren't going into town as he would have been so very proud to have her on his arm and surely would have been the envy of every man he passed. But then he knew he was to take her somewhere that he would not have to share her with anyone at all. He would be the only one there to appreciate her beauty.
Monica cast a look at Rachel that he wasn't sure he understood but Rachel apparently did.
"She's been fed, just come back before she needs to nurse again. I'm sure Buck will help you keep track of time."
Buck wasn't sure he would be able to even think about time if he was off alone with Monica but she just smiled and glanced sheepishly at the cleavage peering out from the plunging neckline of the borrowed dress.
"I will know."
He didn't understand that in the slightest but guessed that a woman would know what she meant. He offered his arm and they were off. He took her to a clearing where the grass was green and lush and the sun peeked through the branches of the shade trees.
"It is beautiful," she said looking around.
"Yes," he replied, "You are."
It had been a slip of the tongue and he thought to apologize as it sounded like a line Cody would use but she smiled and blushed and he thought that he shouldn't be sorry he'd said it. It was the truth after all. They sat and ate and then sat a bit longer in silence and for once it was the comfortable silence they had shared that stormy day and night all those months ago. It was Monica who broke the silence.
"Where do you come from?"
He looked to her in question.
"You are Indian, no?"
He smiled and tried to answer her, because that was the question, wasn't it?
"I'm half Kiowa. My mother was. She was, well, she…" he searched for words, "White men came to the village and one of them…"
He let his voice trail not knowing how to tell her how he came about. For some, he didn't care and for others, he wanted them to see the anger within him but with her, he felt shame for it. He felt ashamed to share the blood of a man who would hurt a woman so. She understood what he tried to say without saying and touched his face tenderly.
"You did not know him?"
"No."
"You grew in the village?"
"For a while," he answered and suddenly felt that he could tell her everything about himself and leave nothing out and she would still look at him with love and kindness, "Until I had to go to the mission. I was never really wanted in the village."
"It was worse outside?"
"The same; I look more like an Indian to the white man but the Indians know that I'm not entirely one of them either."
"This is why Nessa makes you sad."
He was surprised at her words. Nessa filled him with more joy than he had known possible but he did feel a sadness looking at her. He nodded.
"She is so beautiful and perfect to me," he said, "But I know others won't see her that way."
The quiet settled again but it was uneasy and Buck had to break it somehow.
"How did you come to this country?"
She explained, in her halting and unsure English, how she and her parents had made the journey but only she really made it to their destination. She had thought about them often but it had been so long since she felt safe enough to weep for them. He held her as she spoke of their love for her and how excited they were at the thought that she could have a life beyond what they thought possible in the old country. She spoke of her mother's beauty and the way she described her, Buck knew that Monica must favor her mother a great deal.
Her story continued to meeting Henry Atkins as a mail-order bride. He cringed at the thought but she wasn't sad about it and spoke of Henry with fondness. Buck could see she had felt love for the man and knew he had felt it for her. Most brides of this sort did not have such luck and he was glad that she had. He felt so for her feelings of loss when Henry died. He kissed her forehead and held her close as she wept for those she had lost.
"You didn't go back east? You could have, you know?"
"I like it here. I come from a place of farming. Cities are not so good for me."
"Monica," he began before his courage could waver, "I have some things to say and I hope you'll hear me out."
She nodded.
"I fell in love with you that night. I allowed myself to doubt it over the months but you coming here made me know it for sure. I was shocked at first to find out about Nessa. I never planned on having children or of marrying or anything like that. Things are complicated where I'm concerned. But whether I planned it or not, she's here now and that is something I have to face," he paused to collect himself. He was normally a man of very few words and this was more than he usually spoke and there was still more to say.
"I'm still in love with you and I can't see a time when I won't be," he continued, "But there's more to consider now than just if I love you. You're right; I didn't know my father and what little I know about him, I hate. I lost my mother too soon and was left with no one. I found family, I guess but it's not the same. I don't want to think that someday you'll talk to Nessa about the man who took you and then left."
He saw her start to speak and shook his head.
"I know you love me," he said, "I also know you'll resent me in time if we part ways. It's more than that though. I could not live without seeing her or you. Did you fall in love with her the first time you saw her?"
Monica nodded to him.
"She has your eyes, you know," he went on, "Looking in them is like drowning but the best drowning I can think of. I don't want her to have a mystery for a father; just a story you tell her. I want her to have a man who is there and she can talk to. I want to teach her things. I want to be overprotective when the boys begin to notice her. And through it, I want to be by your side. I don't know where this leaves us, except maybe marriage and I don't know if that's what you want. If it is, please say you'll marry me."
Monica processed his words for a few moments and then nodded and smiled and said, "Yes."
Buck pulled her tight to him but she pulled away hissing in pain and wrapping an arm protectively across her chest. He looked at her quizzically.
"Milk," she said simply, "Too full. Nessa must eat now."
He understood at that time her earlier comment to Rachel. He should have known before. Cows were uncomfortable if not milked regularly, why shouldn't human mothers? He smiled and they returned to the homestead.
The others intentionally stayed away when the pair returned even though they wanted to crowd around and get all the news but Rachel and Lou had admonished them all to give the two a bit more privacy. Monica went into the house and Buck followed. Rachel saw them and went outside to allow them time with their daughter. Buck had felt wrong being near when she fed Nessa before but now he looked on the pair, mother and child, and thought there was nothing in the world as beautiful and right as the child feeding at her mother's breast. Monica's face was so placid as she nursed and sang that sweet tune.
Sah ein Knab' ein Röslein stehn,
Röslein auf der Heiden,
War so jung und morgenschön,
Lief er schnell es nah zu sehn,
Sah's mit vielen Freuden.
Röslein, Röslein, Röslein rot,
Röslein auf der Heiden.
He was captivated by the song and felt compelled to ask about it.
"A boy sees a rose. He runs to it and wishes to pick. The rose says she will stab him. He picks the rose, she stabs him but song says it had to be."
"You trying to teach Nessa not to pick things with thorns?" he asked.
"To have something beautiful, there is pain. Is okay, is worth it."
"You believe that, don't you?"
"I know is true," she said looking into him, "You do also."
He sat back in the easy wordlessness that surrounded them. She hummed the tune and he thought of what she had said. He had beauty and perhaps he could see it and appreciate it all the more for the pain that had preceded it. She had lived such pain but she knew love and beauty when they came to her. She was right, or the song was. He had loved the lilting melody before but even more so upon learning the lyric. He wasn't sure what came next. He knew at some point they would marry. He knew he still had work to do but that he could earn enough to start them off to a better life. He'd have to be away from her more than he would have liked but he knew that she would be fine. She was strong; possibly stronger than he was. She just took what life gave her without a thought of whether it was good or bad. It just was and she forged ahead. He knew that however he felt things had to be, she would accept.
He also knew he'd have more proving to do for her to fully accept that he loved her. She would marry him; she said she would. But he knew that what he offered was what she wanted and that she didn't trust getting what she wanted. In time, he would make her trust that there was good and beauty for her and for Nessa. He would, in time, give her things she never dared dream of.
Buck sat in the sitting room gazing at the woman who would someday be his wife as she fed his daughter. He knew they'd have hard times and most of those hard times would come in the beginning. But he knew that those hard times would be necessary to the good times that he vowed silently and to himself at that moment would indeed come.
Monica finished feeding the baby and covered herself then rose and held the child to him.
"I should give back," she said indicating the borrowed frock.
Buck nodded and took his daughter into his arms. His daughter-he didn't think he'd ever get used to saying or thinking those words. It seemed too magical like a dream. Monica bustled from the room and Buck was alone with his child. He had been a little nervous the other times he held her but for the first time, he felt at ease with her in his arms. He felt right.
"Little one," he started, "There's a lot of ugliness you'll face in your life. I'm sorry you have so much of my face. You should have gotten more of your mother. You got enough that you'll be beautiful."
He laughed a little at the thought of how the young men would look at her someday and how he'd feel about them.
"I'll try to give some of the boys a chance; I promise. I won't be around a lot for a while. I have to stay here and you and your mother have to go back. I'll come as often as I can but I have to save up some money to really start a life for us. I hope you won't be angry with me. I want so much for you. I want you to have everything and I want you to have the chance to be anything. I wish you could stay this tiny forever so I could hold you close and know you are safe but at the same time I can't wait to see the woman you'll be."
He felt a tear slide down his cheek. He wasn't sad or upset; he was simply overcome with how much love he felt for her. It was more than he thought he could ever feel of any emotion and it almost hurt. He knew in that moment, that one quiet moment of a man sitting with his child that he would die before harm came to her or to her mother. He knew that while he might have fathered this child, it was in this simple moment that he became a father.
Forever Young – Bob Dylan
May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.
And that is it. It was very common at that time for women to be alone while men went to work where they could earn good money so I figure she'll go home and he'll join her once he's saved up some. The Pony Express didn't last long...piece of trivia: what do TYR and M*A*S*H have in common? They both ran longer on TV than the events they depicted. Neato, eh? So yeah...um, if you want to know what song Monica sang to Nessa, it is a poem by Goethe set to music by Schubert. It's lovely...you should youtube it. And that concludes this tale...I have another story that I think will also be Dylan related...based on "My Back Pages" I love that song. Not sure about anything else. I love all my faithful readers and reviewers! You're the best!-J