That Mushy.

Rowdy glared at the cook's louse from across the camp, gripping his mug of coffee like he was trying to strangle it.

He knew that he shouldn't be acting like this, or even feel like this for that matter. He had made up his mind, or at least attempted to make up his mind, that he was going to live up to the brother-figure that he now knew Emily saw him as. That meant no flirting, no thoughts of how pretty her face was, or how cute her little accent was... and sure as heck no thoughts of how warm and perfect she had felt when he had held her.

Yup, he was doomed to failure. He'd already done all of those things within the last half-hour. And now here he was, envying that Mushy while Emily laughed at something that Mushy said as they put away Wishbone's cooking things.

Ooh, that Mushy!

"Rowdy..."

The ramrod jumped slightly at the sound of Pete's voice. The scout was looking warily at the younger man, his spoon halfway up to his mouth, having just suddenly noticed the fired-up expression on the ramrod's face.

Pete studied the now flushing boy. He slowly brought the spoon up to his lips, chewing and swallowing before finally asking the question that he knew he didn't really need to ask.

"Are you alright?" Pete glanced over at Mushy, who looked as innocent and ignorant as always, then back to Rowdy.

Rowdy pressed his lips together into a tight frown and shifted around slightly, the way he always did when there was something bothering him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said casually, looking away up towards the tree tops.

Pete wasn't convinced that there was actually something up there that interested the young man.

Rowdy heard the sound of metal against metal as the scout scooped up another spoonful of oatmeal.

"You know... I really don't think that you gotta worry 'bout Mushy proposin' or anything."

Rowdy's eyes snapped to the older man. He was infuriated to find that Pete looked as if he were trying hard to hold back a grin. The ramrod stood up, the look in his face testifying to his anger.

"You think that's real cute, don't ya, Pete," he said, his voice low and hot, before he slammed his plate down and stalked off toward the remuda.

"Rowdy," Pete set his own plate aside and got to his feet, following after the boy.

Rowdy ignored him as he walked down the line of horses.

"Hey."

He still refused to acknowledge the scout as he found his horse and started checking over it's saddle.

"Rowdy," his name was spoken again, but now also felt a hand placed on his shoulder. Rowdy jerked his shoulder away and pulled himself up onto the horse's back.

"Rowdy." This time Pete used a stern voice that demanded attention, dropping the patient tone he had been using earlier.

Rowdy tried to send his horse forward, but the scout grabbed the animal's halter and prevented it from going anywhere. Rowdy let out a breath through clinched teeth. He refused to look at Pete, instead turning his irritation-filled eyes off to the side somewhere, his jaw set.

"Listen to me, boy,"Pete was no-nonsense now as he looked straight up at the ramrod," I'm going to tell you something that you aren't gonna want to hear, but you better listen good anyhow."

Rowdy let out a grudging huff, rolling his eyes before resentfully turning to face the offending party.

"Now I just want you to know that you can't make her love you, and if she loves Mushy, nothin' you do'll make her stop. She's a young lady, and a mighty fine one at that; she's the only one who can make up her mind who she wants. For all you know, she might be lookin' to settle down, and I don't think you're quiet ready for that." Pete settled down now, seeing that Rowdy was, though begrudgingly, seeming to take in the words. The scout took a breath, going on more gently. "Now, I'm a man too, you know, and I can see why you like her just as easy as anyone else here can. But don't push yourself on her, and don't hold her back from getting' to know the other men. You have to be fair to her, too."

Pete watched the younger man's face carefully. Rowdy lowered his eyes and let out a breath, but Pete could see the downcast acceptance in his features.

"Look," Pete tried to reason with the boy without making him feel worse,"just give her some space and see what happens. I didn't say to give her up altogether."

A brief silence.

"Alright, Pete." The crestfallen boy finally spoke, nodding his head slightly, then nudged his horse forward into a walk.

Pete hated to see him like that. Rowdy could be childish, hot-tempered and impulsive. Even down-right annoying sometimes. But this just wasn't natural.

"If it means anything, all the boys think you've been hittin' it off with her more than your fair share."

Rowdy turned to look back at Pete, having barely caught the words. Pete was only trying to help, the ramrod understood that now. And it did help, in some way. They exchanged respectful nods, then ramrod trotted out to the herd and scout returned to camp.

"Where's Rowdy?" a familiar low voice greeted him.

Pete glanced over to see the boss in front of a tiny mirror, finishing up a shave.

Pete was surprised that he could have gotten it done so quickly, it hadn't seemed like he and Rowdy had left too long ago.

But he simply smiled, shaking his head. "I had to pull him off of Mushy."

Gil paused mid-stroke and looked back at Pete. "What?" His voice had come out sharper than he had intended, but he was more than a little surprised. He knew that Rowdy had been upset upset with Mushy, but riding the boy and beating up on him where two totally different things.

"Oh, no, not like that," Pete quickly said, leaning against a tree and sticking his thumbs in his pockets. "See, he was givin' the boy a good lickin', but only in his mind. I just had a little talk with him to straighten some things out."

Gil snorted, returning to his mirror. "I could use some straightening out myself," he muttered to himself.

The sound of blade scraping against skin resumed.

"Yeah, I guess she has us all thinkin' about what it could be like,"Pete said reflectively, rubbing his own chin.

Though he didn't make any outward give-aways, the scout's words startled Gil. He hadn't realized he'd said that loud enough for Pete to hear. But then it hit him that his friend had said exactly what Gil had been struggling, but repeatedly unable to put into words.

"She don't seem to be getting' to you as much as some," Gil replied evenly.

Pete tilted his head. "Anyone in particular ya mean by 'some'?"

He wasn't surprised when he didn't get a straight answer. Or any answer at all, for that matter. He had sensed the upset in the boss's presence when he had come up and rode ahead with him yesterday. Mr. Favor had made several remarks about Rowdy following the girl around like a puppy. But it was what he had left unsaid that Pete had heard loudest.

"Did you scout ahead like I told you?" was what Gil did finally say after a pause.

"Course, you saw me." Pete didn't miss a beat at the sudden change in subject.

"Do it again."

That, on the other hand, may have thrown him off a bit. "Boss?" Pete wasn't quiet sure he'd heard right.

Gil wiped the excess shaving cream off his face and got up, placing his hat on his head. "And take the girl with you."

He held gazes with the scout for several moments. An agreement, though silent, was made, then they both went their separate ways. Gil followed the tracks Rowdy had made, while Pete took his hat off and headed for the place where Emily was talking with Mushy and several of the other men about...

Pete stepped closer to the small group until he could make out what they were talking about.

"Why, that's the most r'diculous notion I ever heard!" Wishbone scoffed loudly, eyeing the girl like she might have some contagious disease.

"Well, I think it might be good for him," Emily declared firmly. She turned pointedly to Joe and Jim,"Don't y'all agree?"

"Oh yeah!"

"Mm-hmm."

They both nodded vigorously.

Mushy simply stood and watched, looking like he was only partially aware of what was going on.

"Bah!" Wishbone let out another scoff and waved the two men off,"If Mushy can grow a decent beard, I can sprout wings 'n fly."

"I think he'd look nice," Emily insisted, then turning back to Jim and Joe,"Wouldn't he look nice, boys?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Mm-hmm."

"Is he even old enough to grow a beard?" Teddy scrutinized the cook's louse, looking both jeering and doubtful.

Emily paused her squabbling with Wishbone, finding the lack of agree-ability in Teddy's voice greatly disturbing. She looked to Teddy, then to Mushy, then back to Teddy.

"Well, I guess. He looks about as old as you do..."she said innocently.

The two older drovers broke into heavy laughter, slapping the now sulking young man on the back.

Pete smirked and came to stand behind Wishbone, who was putting the fire out now.

Wishbone shook his head. "Have you every heard sech a r'diculous idea?" the cook grumbled.

"Well, I don't know," Pete said amiably,"If he could manage to grow a decent beard, maybe it would be good for 'em. It'd at least make him look a bit more... mature."

Wishbone scowled. "Well he can do whatever he wants, I don't care."

"Who knows, if he let's it grow out long 'nough, he start lookin' like he's your son..."

"Get out, get out!" Wishbone slapped the sniggering scout away from him with a dish towel.

"It was just a joke, Wish!" Pete didn't stop laughing as staggered away from the ill-tempered cook, reaching back a hand to block the assaults of the wet towel.

Fortunately the old man didn't choose to pursue him very far, and went back to his business grumbling.

"You got a nice mustache, Jimbo, maybe you could give these boys some pointers,"Emily was saying, a playful look in her eyes.
The drover laughed, looking over at the other men. "Well, now, Carty! I'll certainly try. No promises, though. Some men were just meant to shave."

Pete couldn't help but notice that the pair had both come up with nicknames for each other. And cutesy ones, at that.

"If anyone can help 'em, it's you," Emily gave Jim a smirk. "Now you boys better get, afore the boss comes back with a bullwhip fer you slackers." She pat Teddy on the shoulder warmly, which proved to lighten the boy's hurt a bit from the reproach that she had given him earlier.

"Yes, ma'am!" Joe replied brightly.

Emily turned raised an eyebrow.

"Er, uh, Carter," Joe said quickly, before they tipped their hats and hurried off for the remuda.

Emily smiled in their wake. Nothin' like a man to make a girl feel important.

She stepped over to the table and poured a mug of coffee. She then offered it to Pete, who had almost thought that he had went unnoticed by the girl.

He smiled, and stepped closer to take the cup, giving her a nod of thanks.

"Shouldn't you be out there, too, Mr. Nolan?" Emily asked, starting to clear away the things on the table.

"Should," he nodded,"But boss thinks I need some company."

Emily paused, tilting her head as she looked up at the tall man. "And so you're here to pick Mushy up?" she asked mildly.

This girl's full of it!

Pete smirked down at the girl, before replying in an equally mild tone,"Maybe."

A full-on grin spread over Emily's face. "Hey, Mushy, ya busy?" she called.

The cook and his louse bustled on the other side of the wagon.

"Wull, yeah I'm - "

"'Course he's busy!" Wishbone spat, not bothering to let the boy answer for himself.

Of course both Emily and Pete had known the answer to the question beforehand.

Emily shrugged, still smiling. "Well, Mr. Nolan, I'm 'fraid he's preoccupied. Think I could fill his boots?"

Pete set his hat back on his head. "I guess you'll have to do," he replied in mock-disappointment.

Emily had always loved riding through the country, something her and Pete had in common. Though Gil had shared many a pleasant conversation with Emily in the past few days, she could tell that Pete was naturally more talkative. Not talkative like Rowdy, but talkative in a calmer, more settled way. And the more they talked, the more they both realized that they had a lot in common.

Emily hadn't talked much about Indians. Pete had figured that maybe it hurt to talk about it, so he hadn't pushed it. He was delighted when she was the one who opened the subject up.

"Jimmy tells me you're quiet the Indian pro-fessional."

They were making their way ahead of the herd, not in very much of a hurry. Pete glanced over at her. She looked quiet comfortable, like a fish in it's element as she enjoyed the view of the familiar scenery.

"I've spent some good years with 'em. They're nice people, the peaceful ones anyway. Can't say I'm very impressed with all of their customs, but then I can't say I'm too happy with everythin' the white man does, either."

A soft smile appeared on Emily's lips.

Understanding.

"I guess we're just caught up between two conflicting worlds, huh?"

It was refreshing to be able to talk to a person who actually knew what he was talking about. He had always enjoyed telling the boys about the ways of the natives. Likewise, he had loved telling the Cheyenne about the lives of the white men, and all the wonderful places that they had never seen. But neither pale face nor red skin could understand to him the way she did. With her it wasn't just him talking, it was both of them sharing something that the other could relate to.

"So'd you ever consider goin' back to 'em?"

"Who, the Indians?" Emily nearly laughed at the question. "Naw, I'm no Indian. Not really, anyway." She looked at the man riding beside her, giving him a nod. "I guess I'm more like you than anyone else I ever met. Just a southerner who happens to have ties with 'em."

It seemed that everything about this girl inspired intrigue. It didn't matter who it was, she had something to strike up interest for everyone.

"I guess you're wondering why I don't go back to them now, though, with my parents dead 'n all."

Pete raised an eyebrow. "Well... It does seem like a mighty hard thing for a girl to be all alone."

Her situation was known throughout the camp, as she had not been overly secretive about it. At least on the surface she hadn't seemed to be.

"Well, I guess technically I'm not alone," she replied, though not sounding very excited about the fact. "I have a step-grandmother back in Boston, and some... cousins, I guess is what they'd be, from her side." She huffed. "But I never heard much about 'em, and what I did hear didn't 'rouse any longin' to have a family reunion."

Pete nodded slowly. He didn't want to press her into telling him anything, even though the curiosity was ebbing at him.

Emily must have sensed this, because much to his surprise she turned to him and addressed it.

"You can ask anything you want, ya know," she said lightly, but with frankness,"The worse I'll do is tell ya it's none of your business."

Pete laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

Emily shook her head. "Are you forgetting, Mr. Nolan?" she was smirking as she spoke,"You're a drover with Indian expertise, and I'm a part Indian with drover expertise."

"Is that how you managed to get on to get on nick-name terms with Jim?" Pete raised an accusing, but playful eyebrow.

"Jim-bobby's real friendly," Emily grinned.

"Seems like all the boy's are right friendly when you're around."

"Real gentlemen!"

"And you seem right comfortable with 'em."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"A bunch of practically strange men?"

"Drovers aren't strange."

A pause.

"Maybe you're the strange one,"Pete finally concluded.

"That's probably so."

Pete eyed her. "You know, you're a real piece of work, miss Carter."

"Just Carter." Emily replied in a sing-song voice. She seemed to be enjoying this ramble they were sharing.

Pete was quiet for several moments. "I just can't seem to do it."

Emily turned to him curiously. "Do what?"

"Drop the 'miss'. 'Carter', alone... it just don't sound right, not for you."

The dark haired girl pursed her lips as she considered this. "Just Emily, then."

Two lines creased Pete face as his eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't know..."

"Well, why not?"

"Hmm..." Pete thought for a moment. It just seemed so... personal. He wasn't altogether sure if it was a good idea to get personal with this one. Something about her was so drawing, and that was dangerous under the circumstances. She would be gone in a few weeks, and he didn't look forward to an emotional hangover like he knew most of the crew were going to feel when they started having "miss Carter" withdrawal. But could something as little as this really hurt?

"Only if you call me Pete," he finally spoke against his better judgement.

"Peter it is,"Emily replied triumphantly.

The scout nearly jumped at his full first name, and looked at her with wide eyes. Nobody called him that except his mother, and that's the way he wanted to keep it.

"Just Pete is fine," he said slowly, pointedly.

"Yeah,Peter. That's what I said," she replied casually.

Okay, now she was intentionally pushing his buttons. Well, he wasn't going to give into it. He just hoped she didn't keep it up when the other's where around.

"Alright, Emily,"Pete decided it would just be best to get back on the track they had been going down before. Now that she had given him the permission, he would go ahead and ask his questions. "So do you mind if I ask you about your family story."

"You mean about why I don't like my yankee steps?" Emily clarified.

"Well, ah, yeah, that's one way to put it." Her forwardness continued to amaze and amuse the scout.

Emily nodded. "Well see, my grand-pappy owned a cattle ranch down in Texas, way back afore I was around. Daddy grew up there, workin' cattle and such. But when grandma died, he eventually ended up marryin' this eastern widow. Daddy'd been an only child, but Francine – that's the yankee woman's name, isn't it horrible? - she had two girls, real brats from the stories I heard. So they didn't like all this dirt 'n animals, and lack of shoppin' places. And they moaned and bellowed 'bout it until grand-pappy finally bought a house out in Boston for 'em and shipped 'em off."

Well, that sounds like a mess! "They didn't want a divorce?"

"You'd think. They never really loved each other, and dad and her girls never got along. But she needed the money and grand-pap... I don't know what his reasoning was." She shook her head, the corner of her mouth turning down. "They spent more money then he made. That is a lot of money. He eventually went into debt paying off their debt. Lost the ranch. I sometimes wonder if he didn't die of shame."

Pete shook his head. "What'd your daddy do?"

"Well, he took... odd jobs, here 'n there. He'd done a good job saving up his money, so when he finally got tired of working he headed up here. 'Course Francine pestered him when she'd found out he still had money, but he didn't pay her any attention. He met mom on the way here, got married, and... well, I guess the rest you pretty much know."

The scout shook his head. "Well. I... guess I can't really blame you for not wantin' to go to Boston."

"What about you?" Emily asked as they scaled another rounded hill,"You got any family?"

Pete smiled, letting out a sigh. "Well, my ma 'n pa live back down in Texas, and I got four brothers wondering around somewhere in the country."

He realized that he'd never talked about his family to any of the men before. It just wasn't something they much did, maybe for fear of getting homesick out here, in the middle of nowhere when they started thinking about where they came from.

But... it was nice. Or maybe she just made it seem nice somehow.

"No wife?" Emily looked at him curiously,"You seem like the marryin' type."

It took Pete several moments to gather the right reply for the unexpected question, so startled he was.

"Do I?"he just had to ask before he could even think about saying anything else.

"Sure. You and Mr. Favor, maybe Je`sus and one or two others." Emily was unfazed. "Drovers and marryin' don't usually go together, but I think some men were just meant to be married."

"Like your dad?"

Emily smiled, inclining her head in a single nod.

There was a quiet as Pete thought on what she said.

"Well I... was married, once. And - " Pete's eyes found Emily's as he spoke slowly," - to an Indian."

A match seemed to light up in Emily's eyes as the pieces started fitting together. "Seems fittin'."

Pete tilted his head. "Yeah, I guess so. She was the chief's daughter. I'd brought guns to their tribe, showed 'em how to use 'em. That was back when I was young and still trying to figure out what I wanted to do with myself." He smiled and shrugged. "They let me live with them. When she died, though... It was hard to stay, I just couldn't. So I said my good-bye's and left."

Emily shook her head. "That's too bad."

Another pause followed.

"She didn't have a sister?"

Pete let out a bark of laughter. "Well, like you said. I'm no Indian."

Shout-outs:

Caro: I'm glad you like it! I have been trying to update every week, and am a chapter or two ahead of what I have posted on here. It's hard for me not to just upload everything I have, but I do try to contain myself.

Kayley: Yes, I just love how complicated everything is. None of the guys know what's going through her head, and so they get all confused about how she feels and how they feel and how the others feel, and have all kinds of misunderstandings... But don't worry, it'll get messier!

And thanks to everyone else who read!

Until next time,

~ TheNightRunner