The ranch bustled with activity as the cock's crow signaled the beginning of a new day. Many of the ranch hands were busy repairing the slight damage caused by the storm last night. Frightened by the thunder and the sound of the heavy rains, some of the horses kicked the doors of their stalls. Though none broke down, the wooden doors were badly splintered and in need of fixing.
Kid, back from his pre-dawn run, replaced some slats on a wall while James kept him company with his constant chatter. The little boy diligently chose nails of the same sizes from the oversized box beside him and handed them to his father. Kid was hammering the last slat in place when he heard a buckboard ride up.
"Hey Tommy!"
"Kid!" the young man called back.
"What brings you here this early?" Kid dropped the hammer to shake hands with Tom Salinger, who owned the mercantile in town. James tugged at the pants of the nice man who gave him sweets every time he and his parents dropped by the store. Knowing the drill, Tommy slipped a piece of candy from his pocket and handed it to James. "Just passing through on my way back from Blue Creek."
Kid eyed the quantity of stuff on the buckboard. There were cans of beans and molasses, strips of jerky and, covered in butcher's paper, thick slabs of meat. "This is more than what you usually get," he observed.
"There was some trouble in Rock Creek and the marshal said the danger might move down to Blue Creek."
"What do you mean?" Kid's thoughts immediately went to the riders' former housekeeper, Rachel.
"Looks like the Black Raiders struck again. Attacked a ranch on the outskirts of town. Killed an older man, his two sons and his wife. Only the granddaughter was spared and the little girl can't talk. No one should have seen what that little girl saw. Marshal said the bodies were full of lead."
Splinters of gruesome images flashed across Kid's eyes — Inert bodies. A river of blood. A burning barn. A bullet-riddled house.
The lifeless eyes of a childhood friend.
A hand on his shoulder brought Kid back to the present. "Kid?" Tom's eyes held concern.
Kid shook his head. "Just remembering some of those stories, is all."
Tom nodded, realization dawning. "That's right, you'd have heard of the Raiders, coming from Virginia like you do."
Looking down, Kid suddenly became aware of his son's wide-eyed fascination with the gory story. He gave James a light shove toward his foreman, who was walking by, and with a nod of his head, indicated that the boy be taken elsewhere. When James was gone, Kid turned back toward Tommy.
"Outskirts of town? You don't mean Old Ben's Place, do you?"
Tommy rubbed his chin. "You know, I think that's what the marshal said. Old Ben. You know him?"
"We traded horses with him when we were riding for the Express."
"I'm sorry."
"What did the marshal say? Are they any closer to capturing the Black Raiders?"
Tommy let out a disgusted snort, "Those guys wearing badges don't know nothing about capturing these murderers. They had a better chance when Teaspoon was leading them." Tommy cast a glance at the main house. "How is the marshal, by the way?"
Kid shook his head. The doctor had said the longer Teaspoon stayed unconscious, the worse it got for him. "Doesn't seem to be getting any better."
"I'm sorry to hear."
"No need for apologies, you did nothing."
Tommy's voice turned grim. "Well, somebody did and they should pay for it. Folks say Sweetwater will be next, if the Raiders aren't stopped."
A chill crept up Kid's spine. To hide his reaction, he picked up his hammer and started choosing nails from the box. "Well, we'll worry about that when it comes. If it comes. I think we're pretty safe out here."
"I bet that's what Old Ben thought."
Lou looked up from the bacon she was frying to see her husband standing on the doorway.
"Was that Tommy I saw outside? Why didn't you invite him in?"
"He was in a bit of a hurry to get home to his wife."
"But not her cooking, I imagine," Lou said with a sly smile as she transferred strips of bacon onto a plate.
Kid pinched his wife lightly at the waist. "Just because you haven't burned anything in a month don't mean you're such an expert," he teased.
"Hey!" Lou swatted Kid's hand and walked toward the pantry to get a couple more eggs. "My bacon strips are perfectly crisp."
Kid smiled as he picked up Marylou from crib and sat down at the head of the table. The baby immediately began gurgling and blowing raspberries at her father. When Lou passed by, she automatically wiped the little girl's drool with her apron. "You were talking for quite a while. What did he say?"
"Who?" Kid asked absentmindedly as he made faces at the baby.
"Tommy."
Kid debated whether to tell Lou about Tommy's news. He had already kept so much from her. But telling her about Rock Creek would only lead to more questions — questions he was not ready to answer. "Just some town gossip."
Which turned out to be the wrong thing to say as it only piqued Lou's interest more. "Really? Oh, I want details."
"Uh, actually, it was nothing." Kid stood up quickly and placed Marylou back in her crib. "I need to check something. Be right back."
He missed the annoyed look on his wife's face.
Kid watched as Phantom, Katy's offspring, galloped around the corral, the other horses shying away from him. Not more than two months, the colt is already showing the grace and stamina of her mother. Behind him, the ranch bustled with activity. Horses were being fed, some were being walked. But Kid was oblivious to the magnificence of the young horse and to the energy of the place, his mind on the conversation with Sweetwater's mayor earlier in the day.
After breakfast, he'd gone into town to see if there were any telegrams or letters from their friends. He wasn't sure if any of the former riders had received any of the messages he'd sent. Using every means available to them — telegraph, mail, even strangers — he and Lou tried to contact Jimmy, Cody, Rachel, Amanda, Sam and Emma.
Jimmy was quite difficult to find despite accounts on various newspapers that chronicled his exploits. Kid had sent a message to Abilene where Amanda and Teaspoon's saloon was located, hoping Amanda O'Connell had seen their infamous friend. Cody, on the other hand, was easy to keep track of. The flamboyant cowboy attracted attention wherever he went. Lou knew Rachel and Emma's addresses for she corresponded with the two older women regularly. It was Buck who proved to be elusive. After he left, they never heard from him again. They heard and read reports the Kiowa were forced into reservations but all the messages they sent to those wretched places came back. The only proof Lou and Kid had that their Indian friend was alive were the small, unique toys Buck sent James every Christmas.
Kid was leaving the telegraph office when the mayor hailed him.
Kid's instinct was to pretend he hadn't heard the older man. He had a feeling he knew what the mayor wanted. But seeing as how the mayor was right across a relatively narrow street from him, Kid didn't think he could carry out the pretense.
"Good day, Mr. Jenkins."
The mayor waited for a buckboard to pass before he crossed to Kid's side. "I need to talk to you."
Kid looked around and spotted the saloon. "You want to go in there?"
"Much to noisy. Somewhere where we could talk ... in private."
Again, Kid looked around and this time he saw Barnett outside the marshal's office. "How about the jail?"
With a smile, the mayor indicated his approval. "Perfect." As they walked toward the office, the mayor asked after Lou, the children and Teaspoon.
"The family is good, sir. We're quite busy these days. Several of our horses are giving birth."
"And our good friend Mr. Hunter?"
Kid took a deep breath before responding, "Doc doesn't know if he's ever going to wake up."
Perfect opening, the mayor thought to himself as he and the Kid stepped into the marshal's office, nodding to Barnett on the way in. "We'd like to use your office for a while, Hamilton, if that's all right with you."
"Sure," came the reply. Barnett tipped his hat at the newcomers, folded the paper he was reading and walked out the door. The mayor seated himself behind the marshal's table, as Kid settled on a chair nearby.
Jenkins began, "A small property in Rock Creek was hit by the Raiders not three nights ago. Four people were killed. The only survivor was a small child the family hid in a hole underneath the house."
"We heard about that. I'm sorry about what happened, sir. But I don't see how it could have anything to do with me," Kid said rather defensively. "With Teaspoon, yes, because he is the law—"
"Was the law," the mayor interrupted.
"What?"
"We need a new marshal, Kid. You yourself said Teaspoon might not wake up."
Kid abruptly stood up, almost knocking his chair backwards. He crossed to the window, his back to the mayor. With a tilt of his head, he indicated the lawman on the sidewalk. "How about Barnett? He is the deputy."
The mayor narrowed his eyes at Kid. "Son, I hope that was an attempt at humor," the mayor said sternly. "The fact is we need someone who knows the territory, who keeps a cool head under pressure and who is quick with the gun."
"Well, then get Brody or Cole. Garett is pretty handy with— "
"Good men," the mayor cut in, "and you can pick them as your deputies."
"There has to be someone else."
"There's no one, Kid. And we really need you right now. They already hit Rock Creek. We might be next," the mayor said urgently.
"Ask the Army for help."
"The nearest fort is a hundred miles away. And the route is very dangerous."
Kid spun around and walked back to the table. "I'll ride. Bring them the message." The trail was dangerous but he had ridden it a thousand times when he was a rider for the Pony Express. He could sit on Katy blindfolded and they would still find their way.
"The Army has all but given up on catching the Raiders." At Kid's incredulous look, the mayor added, "Oh, they are sending some soldiers. Wet behind the ears. They'll be the first to fall in a gunfight. The fact remains, it's our fight."
Frustration growing, Kid pounded his hand on the table. "I'm a rancher not a gunfighter," he nearly shouted.
The mayor merely lifted an eyebrow. Kid may not make his living with the gun, but the mayor was very much aware how well the young man handled the Colt that's strapped to his thigh.
Kid struggled to maintain his control. He rubbed a hand over his face, as if to wipe away his frustration. With a calmer voice, he tried to provide another reason why he couldn't just go after bandits. "I have a wife and four kids to take care of, as well as a sick friend who needs me."
Jenkins studied the young man. He remembered when Kid was still a rider for the Pony Express and they lived in the bunkhouse on the outskirts of town. He was an associate at the bank then. Though Hickok appeared to be the group's leader, leading the battles with his blazing guns, Jenkins had a feeling it was Kid who pulled the riders together. He hoped Kid would change his mind and help pull this town together.
"I understand what you are saying, Kid. But think about what I said. There might not be a town, a home or a family to take care of if you don't help. If you don't do it for us, do it for Teaspoon."
ABILENE, KANSAS
James Butler Hickok woke up to a loud pounding inside his head and the insistent buzzing of a bee. Cautiously, he tried to open his eyes to figure out what was going on, but they wouldn't to obey him. After counting from one to 10, Hickok tried to open just one eye. Nothing. Worry gripped him. His growl died on his throat in a croak. He tried to wet his lips with his tongue but that itself became a chore. His tongue felt oversized, gravelly and as dry as the trails of Texas.
Don't panic, he told himself, try opening your eyes one more time. The third attempt proved to be successful. Gingerly moving his head, Hickok noticed he wasn't alone in the bed. There was a woman with him and from what he saw — which was quite a lot — she was naked. He tried to remember her name but drew a blank
Then the pounding came again and Jimmy groaned. It felt like a thousand little men with tiny hammers decided to camp inside his head and build a railroad crisscrossing his skull. He wanted them to go away and even told them so but since he mumbled his order, he didn't think they heard him.
The pounding became louder and it took a while for Hickok to realize it was coming from outside the door, as were the voices he earlier mistook for a bee.
"JIMMY! COME OUT HERE!"
"Ma'am, I cannot allow you to do this. You are disrupting the peace and bother—"
"DISRUPTING THE PEACE?" Jimmy could feel the woman's indignation through the door. "I'll do a lot more than disrupt your peace if you don't get me Jimmy Hickok."
"Miss, I told you, Mr. Hickok left explicit instructions not to be bothered when he retired for the night."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll see me and hear what I have to say," the woman said confidently.
The man was saved from answering when the door opened. Jimmy leaned on the doorway looking disgustingly drunk, half naked, his britches not even fastened. He squinted his eyes to see who had the gall to wake him up.
He should have known.
"Amanda? Why in God's name are you bellowing so early in the morning?"
"It's noon." Amanda's voice dripped with annoyance. She pushed Jimmy inside his room, shutting the door on the face of the hotel owner. She threw a careless glance at the sleeping woman before marching toward the dresser. Amanda was ready to give the younger man hell but she figured he wouldn't understand her in his inebriated state. Better wait until he could fully appreciate her lecture. Walking past Hickok, Amanda picked up his saddlebag and the shirt that was carelessly thrown on the floor. "Here," she said, all but throwing the items at Jimmy. "I'm taking you home."
Amanda silently watched from across her dining room table as Jimmy drank another cup of coffee. She wasn't going to stop giving him the bitter brew until she was sure she had all the whiskey flushed out of his system. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt maternal toward Jimmy, though only a few years separated them in age. It probably has something to do with Jimmy's bond with Amanda O'Conell's "father," Teaspoon. Amanda remembered when she first met the hot-tempered young man in Sweetwater. Even then Jimmy already had a reputation as a fearsome gunfighter.
"Trying to save me, Amanda?"
A snort was the response. "Hell no. Why would I want to do that. I can't save myself let alone somebody else," she said, her lips curving in a wry smile. She stood up to fetch more coffee but Hickok caught her hand, shaking his head.
"Before you drown me, you'd better tell me why you dragged me out of my room."
Amanda pulled out a telegram from her skirt pocket and handed it to Jimmy. "This came yesterday. I'm pretty sure Kid sent you one, too."
"From the Kid?" Jimmy tore the envelope so quickly he almost ripped the letter, too. Amanda watched as a multitude of emotions flashed in Jimmy's eyes as he quickly scanned the missive.
"They've started to call everybody — you, me, Cody. Even Emma and Sam," she said, her voice growing husky with unshed tears. "If you leave now, you could be in Sweetwater in less than a week."
She didn't add, maybe Teaspoon will still be alive when you get there.
Jimmy stood up, already reaching for his hat. "What about you?"
"I'll follow as quickly as I can."
A cacophony of noise and smell assaulted Jimmy's senses as he stepped into the saloon. Men of various shapes and size, attitude and temperament filled the smoky hall. Many were gathered around the gaming tables, others around the luscious girls. A couple of greenhorns began chattering excitedly as soon as Hickok walked in, but most of the regulars knew Jimmy and, except for a nod here and there, generally ignored him. After greeting the bartender, Jimmy walked up the stairs to the room he kept for himself. He always stayed in the same room during his visits to Abilene, although he had a standing invitation from Amanda for him to stay at her place. Jimmy never accepted the invitation, preferring to establish a place of his own, although it was just a dank and musty hotel room. He adored Amanda — she was like a sister — but a young man like him needed a place where he could live his life.
When Jimmy entered his room, though, independence was the farthest thing from his mind.
HE WAS BEING CALLED HOME!
The thought filled him with dread and elation, the same feeling he got every time he received a letter from Lou and the Kid asking him to come and visit with them. He badly wanted to say yes, but always ended up making excuses. He knew it was taking the coward's way out — laying the blame for his absence on situations, people, hell, even the weather. But he couldn't go home. It would feel too much like that story Teaspoon used to read from the Bible — the prodigal son.
Jimmy tossed his hat on the bed, then crossed to the dresser on the other side of the room. After pulling out the bottom shelf, he slid his hand under one of his shirts until he felt the familiar coldness of a bottle. Wrapping his slender hands on the neck, he pulled the brandy out from its hiding place. The amber liquid swirled inside the bottle, tantalizing Jimmy with the promise of heat and comfort. He succumbed to that call and poured himself a healthy dose before settling himself on a chair. Methodically, he drank glass after glass of the fiery liquid, hoping to numb his senses so he won't have to think of his imminent return to his "family."
The brandy proved to be traitorous, though. As the alcohol worked to deaden his senses, Jimmy found himself unable to stop remembering the last time he saw Teaspoon.
Bitter and disillusioned after Noah's death, he had began to seriously think of going back to Kansas and joining the abolitionists. He had suspected the other riders thought he was doing so only to be with Rosemarie.
But it wasn't just that at all.
He had firmly believed in what he fought for then, an individual's right to freedom. No man had a right to take possession of another man. Teaspoon and the Kid had assured him they believed in the same thing. However, the issue of slavery was only one of many that fueled the war. Despite their protests and vows of eternal friendships, Teaspoon, Kid and Jimmy had found themselves standing on opposite sides. In joining the abolitionists, Jimmy had irrevocably aligned himself with the North.
Kid had been furious but he also understood Jimmy's need to fight for what is right. In the end, they had bidden each other goodbye and good luck.
Teaspoon had been another matter. He had uttered no words but his demeanor spoke of the bitter fury raging inside him. He didn't break his silence, not even on the day Jimmy rode way from the station house for the last time.
Jimmy pressed the glass against his lips and tossed his head, feeling the liquid burn his throat and settle into the pit of his stomach. It did nothing to vanquish the pain in his heart as he recalled Teaspoon's stoic expression as he bid him farewell. The memory had Jimmy's hands tightening on the telegram Kid sent.
"Come home. Teaspoon is badly hurt. He needs you."
It was an invitation he couldn't refuse.
