A/N: There are two possible historical inaccuracies in this story. One is minor and the other would drastically alter a major plot point. I have tried to find out if they are inaccuracies, but have been unable to prove it. Which is both good and bad. Good in that I don't have to change the story. Bad in that I do like to be historically accurate. Be that as it may, the Young Riders, as shown on TV, was not always historically accurate either.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters you've heard of before. The series and setting aren't mine either. But the situation is of my own devising.
Audio copy: You can listen to this story on my podcast: There Are Three of Me. It is read in Ep70-83 S5E1-14. You can find There Are Three of Me on Spotify, Google Podcasts, and .
The Young Riders
The Journey
By Gabrielle Lawson
Prologue
Dear Buck,
I hope this letter finds you well. My father has mentioned you in his letters. Well, not you, but Teaspoon and the other riders. That's how I know you are not in Sweetwater anymore. My father writes me once a month. I never answer his letters. Maybe I should, but it hurts to know how much he hates our peoples. I can't separate that from the love he sends in his letters. He doesn't want to know that part of me that is Lakota.
No one does. Aunt Sarah especially. She took my moccasins and doe-skin dress and threw them into the fire. She forbids me to pray to the spirits and drags me with her to church every Sunday. That's one of the only times I'm ever allowed to leave the house. I don't even go to school. Aunt Sarah hired a nun to teach me here. She has taught me to read and write better, but she has also made me memorize the names of all the apostles. We're currently working on all the saints. It makes me angry. Their Jesus talks about love in the Bible, over and over, but they want to kill our people. And they call us heathens!
That's what they call me. Under their breath or to my face. Because I argue with them. Because I defend the Lakota. I tell them Indians aren't savages. I tell them Indians value honor and kindness and know nothing of greed. Then I get locked in my room.
Buck, I have tried to make a life for myself, here. I really have. But I can't forget Running Bear or Two Ponies. I can't forget my time with the Lakota. I can't shake off my spirit and throw it into the fire with my doe-skin dress. I will not forget that I am Lakota.
Because of that, no one wants me here. They want a pure white Jenny Tompkins, not Eagle Feather. I can't stay. I never get to walk by a lake and pick berries or stand in the sun just to feel its rays on my skin. I can't live my life alone like this, with only Aunt Sarah and the nun for company. No white man will want me. The few that have come calling-with Aunt Sarah's permission, of course-have said such terrible things about the Indians. I know they all feel that way. I wouldn't want them either.
I miss you. I know we only knew each other for a short time, but I feel that you understood me in a way no one has since I left the Lakota. You love your Kiowa people even though you are not with them. You feel the sting when the others in town say they should all be killed. You probably get the same reaction from white women that I do from the men.
I realize this is very forward of me, but I felt I had to try. Either way, I'm leaving. Aunt Sarah gave me a silver hand mirror that had belonged to my mother. I miss her, but I know her spirit is not in such a thing. I snuck out through the window last night and sold it. I now have money for the stage. It leaves tomorrow and will take five days to reach St. Joseph. If you'll have me, please meet me there. If you don't come, I'll understand. I'll find someplace, but I won't go back to Aunt Sarah.
Chapter One
Buck folded the letter quickly and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt. He was too late, though. Lou had seen it.
"You got a letter?" she asked as she stepped up on the lower rail of the corral fence. She hooked her arms over the top rail and looked up at him with those big doe-eyes.
"It happens," Buck said, trying to throw off her curiosity.
"I didn't mean it like that," Lou said, and Buck almost felt sorry that he'd snapped at her. "It's just you don't get them that often."
Buck sighed at her understatement. He'd only ever received one letter since joining the Pony Express. Or before that.
"Is it from Camille?" Lou asked, prying again.
"No," Buck replied, hoping to leave it at that.
"Aw, come on, Buck," Lou pleaded. "I don't exactly get a lot of mail either."
"It's personal," Buck told her before he jumped down off the corral fence and headed for the bunkhouse. He'd come out here to read the letter in private, but he should have known just having a letter at all would bring questions from someone. And given Lou's new status as wife and ex-rider for the Pony Express, her boredom just made the letter too tempting.
"Can't you at least tell me who it's from?" she tried, chasing after him. "I'll do your chores."
"My chores are done," Buck answered. Lou, however, remained on his heels, like one of the dogs in the Kiowa village after a successful hunt.
"Tomorrow then?" she offered again.
Lou followed after him, silently cursing the skirts that slowed the movement of her legs. Buck was so much taller. He could cover ground much faster than her. But she stayed with him. Lately, Buck was the one thing that kept her from sliding into the despair of total boredom.
It wasn't that she was unhappy being married to Kid. She wasn't. She loved him. But it was a big change going from Pony Express Rider to wifely duties. She'd gotten used to the excitement of the speed, the danger of riding. Cooking and cleaning just couldn't compare. Especially when Kid was off on a ride and she was stuck at the station.
She'd watched Buck grow more and more sullen after Ike's death, especially as the Express started to wind down and the war back East to wind up. They'd lost more friends, to the war or to death. And the foundation, the glue that had brought the rest of them together, was beginning to wear out. They all knew the end of the Express was coming. They just didn't know when.
Lou had had a lot of time to think lately-she'd found housework to be quite conducive to thinking. Everyone else had something or someone. With the Express business dwindling, Teaspoon was spending more time marshalling. Rachel had the school and helping other ladies around town. Jimmy spent all his off hours with Rosemary. Kid had Lou and the Express. Lou only had Kid and Buck only had the Express.
So Lou had decided, for each of their sakes, that she and Buck should also have each other. She needed a confidant, and Buck had always been a great listener. He needed a friend, a close one, like Ike had been. So Lou had taken upon herself the task of loosening the armor Buck kept around him. She knew there was a lot more to him than he let them see, like an iceberg that lets only its tip float above the surface of the water and keeps its bulk below the waves.
"How about it?" she asked, reminding him of her offer.
He stopped and turned toward her. "Why is it so important to you?"
She searched his eyes carefully to see if he was angry, but she didn't see any suspicion there. "I wanna be your friend," she answered, realizing too late how silly that sounded, like a school girl wanting to play after the bell rang.
"You are my friend," he told her. "But that doesn't mean you have to read my mail."
Lou sighed. He was going to be hard to crack. But then, she'd known that before she started. "I want to be more of a friend."
Buck sat down at the table and took off his hat. "The kind that reads my mail?" he asked, raising one eyebrow in mock confusion.
Lou couldn't help but chuckle. At least he wasn't mad. Yet. "No," she told him, forcing herself back to seriousness. "The kind that you talk to. The kind that knows what's going on in your life."
Now he sighed and looked down at the table. "You do know what's going on in my life. I ride the mail. I do chores. What else is there?"
Lou retrieved the plate of sandwiches she'd made earlier from the counter by the sink and sat down across from him. "Plenty," she replied. "I hardly know anything about you from before the Express. Like how you grew up or where you learned English. You never tell those things. I think Ike knew though."
Buck had started to eat one of the sandwiches, but now he tossed it back onto the plate and stood up. Lou knew she'd pushed too hard. "You can't be a friend like Ike," he snapped. Then he added, in a softer voice after he'd turned away, "No one can."
Lou got up and rushed to where he was looking out the window. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to replace him. But I want to know why he was special to you. Why you meant so much to him. I want to know you like he did."
Buck didn't turn back to her. His voice was quiet, unsure. "None of that is in this letter."
Lou watched him carefully, to see if he'd stiffen or move further away. "No, but whatever is in that letter made you happy. I could tell."
Buck's shoulders softened and he turned around, leaning back on the window sill. "You're going to pester me all evening, aren't you?"
Lou realized that, by giving in, he was really putting her off. Still, she'd pushed too hard already. She was grateful for even this small tidbit. "I've got nothin' better to do and no one to stop me," she teased back. Kid was delivering a special pouch to Fort Kearney and wouldn't return for another three days. Jimmy was off on a run. Teaspoon was in Seneca for a trial, and Rachel was helping Mrs. Nelson with her new baby. Lou was the only one at the station, except Buck, and he had a run the next day.
With a flourish, Buck pulled the letter from his breast pocket and handed it to her before retaking his seat at the table.
Lou was suspicious. He'd given it up too easily. Still, she was curious. She opened the letter carefully and focused on the words. And they made absolutely no sense! "What is this? Kiowa?" she asked, assuming Camille had written out the Indian words with English letters.
Buck shook his head. "Lakota."
Lou was frozen for a moment, and he knew he'd surprised her. She finally moved, walking slowly over to the table where he was. Her mouth still hung open, all of her playfulness gone. Buck wasn't sure why he'd given in. It really wasn't just to stop her pestering him. Telling her the language would only make her more curious, not less.
But, to be honest, he had missed having someone to talk to—to really talk to—now that Ike was gone. And Lou was maybe the one that could understand him best, stuck as she was in a man's world that wouldn't allow her to play an equal part and still be herself. This letter, then, would be a test. He still didn't feel ready to open up every secret, but her reaction would tell him how far he could go in trusting her.
"Eagle Feather?" she breathed as she sat down, and Buck liked that she hadn't said 'Jenny Tompkins'. Then the shock on her face disappeared into a dazzling smile. She handed the letter back to him. "What does she say? How is she?"
"She's unhappy," Buck told her, carefully choosing his words. "Her aunt is trying to force her to change. She's going to leave."
Lou's smile left and she now looked concerned. Except that there was a certain gleam in her eye that he couldn't quite figure out. "Where will she go?"
Buck took a long breath, trying to prepare himself for whatever reaction Lou might have. "She wants to come here."
"To live with her father?"
Buck watched her closely. He shook his head.
It took a moment but Lou's eyes grew wide. She took a quick breath in surprise. "Here here?" she asked, pointing down hard on the table.
Buck nodded and left it at that for now. Her reaction would not only tell him about her, but it would also give him an idea how the others would take the news. If indeed, he decided to bring Eagle Feather here.
Lou started to stand up in her excitement. "That's wonder-" She stopped and dropped back into her seat. She folded her hands on the table and forced the excitement out of her face. Buck appreciated that. "When is she coming?"
Buck took another deep breath. "She may not come at all."
Lou's shoulders sagged. "Why not?"
"Because it's up to me," Buck told her. "I'm supposed to meet her stage in St. Joe tomorrow afternoon. If I'm not there, she'll find a place for herself somewhere else."
Lou reached over and took his hand. "But you'll be there, right? You were happy to get the letter. You liked her. She can appreciate you, all of you. Why wouldn't you go?"
Buck stood up and walked back to the window. On the one hand, he felt just like Lou said, and he was encouraged that she hadn't teased him or balked at the idea. But, as usual, things weren't always as easy as one wanted. "It's not that simple, Lou. I hardly know her. She only knew me for what? A week? And what would the others think? The townspeople? Tompkins? She's his daughter and you know what he thinks of me."
"The townspeople don't matter," Lou said, jumping up behind him. "And Tompkins can go to hell. The others will be happy if you're happy. She's leaving her aunt one way or the other. If she comes here, you'll get a chance to know each other, see if it will work. If she goes somewhere else, you'll never know."
Buck wanted to negate all his arguments as easily as she did. He hadn't wanted Eagle Feather to leave when she had. He'd felt a connection with her. And Lou was right. While other white women ignored him or turned away from him in disgust, Eagle Feather had appreciated him, Indian half and all. She loved her people like he loved his. How many chances did he have with a woman like that? But his fears didn't fall away as easily as that. Buck was careful to try and avoid trouble when he could. It found him easily enough on its own. But this would just be asking for trouble. Tompkins would be beside himself, and the rest of the town would back him. And Teaspoon, Rachel, and the others might see it as too forward. It generally wasn't the white way to go about things, though it wasn't unheard of in the Indian world.
"I have responsibilities," he said as an excuse, though he also hoped Lou would shoot it down as she had his other arguments.
"I can do your chores," she offered quickly. "It's nothing I didn't do before I was married."
Buck turned around and met her gaze. She was sincere-he could tell by her eyes, the energetic way she stood there, like a rabbit waiting for just the right moment to bound away. "I have a run tomorrow."
"I'll take it!" She had barely let him finish his sentence. "Buck, you've got to do this. You deserve a chance to be happy. I'll take the run. I miss it, anyway."
Her excitement was starting to spill over into him. Maybe it would be like she said. It didn't have to mean love forever. It could be a chance though, one he'd hoped to have back in Sweetwater before Eagle Feather had rode away on the stage.
But there were still obstacles. "What about Kid?"
Lou felt her face flush hot. "I'm not some fragile China doll!" she snapped and held up her left hand. "I didn't forget how to ride or shoot just because I put this ring on."
She let out her breath slowly. It wasn't Buck's fault Kid was so irritatingly over-protective. "Besides," she said, more calm now, "Kid's not here. He won't even have to know. If you leave right away, you can meet the stage and be back by Saturday." Her mind had been racing since he first mentioned the stage, working out just how it could be done. "The run will put me back here Sunday morning. Kid won't be back until that afternoon."
"What about Jimmy?"
He was stubborn, but he had hesitated in speaking just then. She could see it in his eyes, a glimpse of the vulnerability he hid so well. He was arguing, but he wanted to believe it could be done. And she wanted to help him.
"Jimmy is blind to everything around him these days," she reminded him. "We have to remind him when he has a ride. And don't worry about the others. Teaspoon's not due back until Sunday either, and Rachel was gonna be gone at least that long. It's just you and me. Until you get back with Eagle Feather, of course."
He sat down on one of the bunks and clasped his hands together. "You really think this is a good idea? That it could work?"
Lou plopped herself down beside him. "Not if it was just you," she teased as she took his arm. "But with me as your co-conspirator, nothing can go wrong!"
TBC
