The Young Riders
The Journey
By Gabrielle Lawson
Chapter Four
Jenny awoke with the dawn and found Ike awake and poking at the fire. She stood and stretched and wished she could rid herself of the confining layers of cloth she wore. A simple doeskin dress and moccasins were so much more sensible for traveling. She looked at her shoes with their many eyelets and laces. They scrunched her toes and made her arches and heels ache by the end of day. She decided moccasins would be a priority when she reached Rock Creek, as soon as she could get her hands on some deerskin or leather and some rawhide. She could bother with the beadwork later.
As they shared a simple breakfast of bacon and coffee, Ike told her about Rock Creek and some of the changes in the station since they had moved from Sweetwater. Lou was really Louise, and she and the Kid were now married. Jimmy was interested in an abolitionist's widow. Cody had joined the Army as a scout. That upset her, even though Ike explained he'd joined up for the war, not for going against the Indians. She remembered, though, how Buck had told her he'd gone with the Army that day because he didn't want someone like Cody to do it.
But she kept those thoughts to herself for now. She wanted to look forward to seeing Buck again, not dread meeting his friends.
She mounted the horse behind him, and as they rode, she told him about life in the city. The better parts anyway, the foreign parts that were different from anything either of them had grown up with. She told about the tall buildings, the theatres, the telegraph. He seemed to sag a bit at the telegraph, but he kept his hands on the reins and didn't say anything.
Jenny enjoyed the ride. She was at home on these plains, on a horse with the sky above her and the grass below. The trees spoke to her of their freedom, and their fragrance lifted her spirit from the mire it had been in since her mother had died and she'd gone east.
The horse trotted easily, covering the miles at a quick but leisurely pace. Jenny—Eagle Feather—wished that she had the reins. Though she did not begrudge Ike his help or company, she wanted to share in the freedom around her. She wanted to race the wind.
But she did not ask it of Ike. The horse, carrying two, would tire too quickly. She could hold her feelings for another day and ask Buck if they could go for a ride later. The Kiowa were horsemen; he'd understand her desires.
Lou reigned in her horse and led it into the barn while Ben sped off into the east. She took her time rubbing him down. It was early still. Buck may have slept in. Lou wished she had. She was tired from the run, but it was a good tired. It was the tired left over from hard work, not the boredom she sometimes napped to in the afternoons at the house while the boys were finishing their chores.
She put fresh hay into the trough and closed the stall. She lifted the chain from her pocket until she felt the weight of the watch in her hand. She checked the time as she stepped out into the sunshine outside the barn. Nine thirty. The Kid wouldn't be back until that evening. She had plenty of time to get cleaned up. She couldn't help but smile as she reached the porch. Jenny might be sleeping in, too. She was anxious to meet her again and excited for Buck. She opened the door quietly and glanced around the front room. Nothing was out of place and nothing new was there. Maybe she didn't have much, Lou reasoned. Jenny had run away from her aunt. She probably hadn't packed more than a bag or two. Lou poked her head into the kitchen, but that, too, was empty and just as she left it. She crossed to the hearth and noted that there was no heat at all. Not even an ember from the night before.
She took the stairs quickly, not bothering to keep her steps quiet. A few minutes later, she stomped back down them. She'd checked every room, but there was no sign of Jenny. Buck was too much a gentleman to put her in the bunkhouse when the main house was available. Wasn't he? She stepped outside, and marched to the bunkhouse. She was about to knock when she remembered Ben. Ben had come from the bunkhouse. He would have said something if Buck had brought a girl home. And Ben couldn't cook and there had been no fire. With no one here, he'd probably taken his breakfast in town.
Lou threw open the bunkhouse door and scanned the room. Buck's bunk was made and his hat and coat were missing. He hadn't returned.
Lou stood in thought for a few minutes. Jenny hadn't arrived and Buck hadn't returned. Jenny would have reached St. Joe Friday afternoon. Buck would have arrived soon after. They could have left that day, camped for the night, and still made it back here the night before. Or they could have left in the morning, but then Buck risked arriving after Teaspoon, the Kid, and the others returned. No, something had happened.
Lou ran back to the house and scratched out a quick note telling the Kid or whoever found it where she'd gone. Then she made her way back to the barn. She was glad this was a Pony Express station. Everyone was out but there was still at least one fresh horse.
The man hadn't returned since before the cold and the dark of night. Now there was, once again, heat and dim light to mark another day, though Buck was oblivious as to how many it had been since . . . he couldn't even remember that. Sometimes his mind swam in dreams and memories even though his eyes remained open and his body tense. If his mind ever latched onto a thought for his present situation, it was only "Do not fall!" Everything else was lost in fog.
He did not remember where he was or why he hurt so much. His dreams, when they came to him, were of memories of his life, but always, there was a storm. Wind shook his brother's tepee, or thunder rattled the bunkhouse windows. Rain drenched him, soaking his clothes and chilling his skin.
He shivered in spite of the heat that made the air feel thick and heavy. His position only made it harder to pull breath into his lungs. His eyes were open but he had long since ceased to see clearly. He spoke, though he wasn't really aware that he was whispering. He prayed, asking the Great Spirit to free him from the pain.
But the Great Spirit, as He had so often in his life, had other plans. The pain stayed, and so did Buck, though by now he wished for death. For not the first time he considered that he was being punished for the deeds of his father. He was created through violence and pain, and so he was doomed to live in violence and pain.
Thunder rumbled in the distance of his mind and the winds swirled around him. He thought of Jenny and knew that he'd missed her. Even if he survived and went to St. Joseph it would be too late. She'd be gone; she probably already was gone. But he didn't expect to survive; not this time. Would she even know that he had tried? They might have found some happiness together, or at least a peace in this hard world. He hoped she still would. Little Bird had.
Rain poured from the sky, as he and the other hunters crested the hill. The village became visible below them, but the tepees were broken. The men urged their horses to a run and raced down the hill. Buck could smell the stench even through the storm. He called out for Little Bird even as he heard other voices over the howling wind as each of the hunters called out to their families.
With Little Bird, Buck had come to a new time in his life with the Kiowa. In accepting the little white girl, his people had begun to see that there was some Kiowa in him. He was allowed to participate in games and contests. The elders included him when they taught the other children. And Little Bird herself had looked at him with kindness. She accepted him and never questioned his heritage. He had come to care greatly for her, and was happy when they were promised to each other, even though those who promised them did so for practical reasons: they were both white. Still, for the first time, Buck had started to feel like he belonged. When he was asked to join the hunt, he could not possibly refuse. Little Bird begged him not to go and now, he'd returned too late. She didn't answer his calls, but neither was she found among the dead in the days to come. The survivors told him that his kind—the whites—had taken her back with them. Little Bird was gone, and his people were, once again, reminded of the evil of "his" kind.
Little Bird had eventually found him again, to tell him of her upcoming marriage, and, while she did not blame him, she seemed happy with a man who detested the "heathen" ways of the Indians.
The rain turned to hail and he was forced inside. A bright fire warmed his brother's tepee and he moved to step close to it. But a hacking cough tried to draw his attention away. He knew who it was, and he refused to look that way. She'd insisted on helping her sons with the horses, in spite of the weather and the cough she'd woken up with. Buck and Red Bear had caught on too late, after she had collapsed in the snow. This was his most painful memory, and his heart was crushed once again as he watched his mother die.
Lightning flashed and the roar of thunder became the sound of gunfire. Ike fell to the sidewalk, a dark red stain spreading across his white shirt. Too late, Buck reached him. Ike was already dying. Buck had tried to talk to him, to tell him what he meant to him. Ike had become his family, and had understood him in ways Red Bear never could. While Ike was alive, Buck was never alone, and a piece of his spirit had been ripped from him when Ike died.
Beyond his awareness, the door of the shed screeched open again and the storm reached out for him.
Lou was getting hungry but she didn't want to stop. Besides, she had left so quickly that she hadn't thought to pack any food. She had even forgotten to refill her canteen. She knew there was a stream up ahead though. She'd manage with just the water until she found Buck.
She saw the trees that marked the stream about a half hour later, just as the sun was reaching its peak in the sky. Her horse was thirsty, and apparently knew the area as well as she did. It sped up and she didn't try to rein it in. Just as they reached the trees though, her horse stopped and resisted her efforts to force it forward. She could not see what might be spooking the horse but she could smell it. Something had died there.
She dismounted and tied the horse to one of the trees then pulled her gun from its holster. She cautiously stepped past the trees to the stream, and, looking left, she could see the source of the stench. A horse, eviscerated and half eaten by wolves or other scavengers. But she recognized it anyway.
She moved closer, covering her mouth and nose with one hand. It still had its tack: saddle and bridle, but no reins. She knew the saddle like she knew the horse, and she knew now her worry was well-founded. This was Buck's horse. She backed away, searching the area for some clue. She found his knife and hat not far from the horse and picked them up. There was blood in the rocks by the hat. Too far from the horse to be the horse's, she hoped it was too little to be a sign of Buck's death. He was wounded. She could accept that. She would find him, and the doctor back in Rock Creek could tend his wound. She wished Kid was there. He'd been learning from Buck how to track, and right now she needed to track. She thought there might be a set of footprints in the rocks and decided to follow those.
Remembering her need for water, she returned to her horse to get her canteen. She put the knife in a saddle bag and tied Buck's hat to the saddle. He'd want them back when she found him. She untied her horse, intending to lead it upstream of the dead one for a drink before she set again to finding where Buck had gone.
The horse didn't fight her too much, as she'd skirted widely around the carcass. She filled her canteen and watched the horse drink for a bit. She thought again about the tracks she'd seen. They were near the horse and the blood stain that was by Buck's hat. Could it have been Buck? She tried to paint a picture in her head of what might have happened. Buck, even wounded, would have tried to see to his dying horse, but why would he have wandered about the area so much? If the blood was from a leg wound, why had his hat fallen so close? If from an arm or shoulder, why were the footprints near where his head would have been? Why had his horse died at all? Then there was the knife. She could not shake the feeling that maybe those were not Buck's prints, but someone else's. And that someone else had killed the horse.
Teaspoon was glad to see the station up ahead. It was good to see Rock Creek and his office again, but the station's bunkhouse was home to him more than the town. His family was at the station. Or rather, what was left of it was. Noah and Ike were gone now, Cody had joined the army, and Jimmy was hardly to be seen these days. Kid and Lou were married and would soon need a place of their own. Rachel and Buck were still there, though Rachel had enough prospects ahead of her that she too might leave once the Express finally closed down. Buck, though. . . . Teaspoon did not know what would become of Buck, and that worried him.
He passed the barn just as the Kid came out leading Katy. Teaspoon remembered that Kid had been out on an unusually long run. He wasn't even due back at the station for another hour or two. Why was he leading his horse out of the barn instead of in? "Where you off to?" he asked when Kid looked up.
"I'm going after Lou," he answered and then handed Teaspoon a folded bit of paper. "She's gone after Buck."
Teaspoon read the note then folded it again. "What was he doin' goin' to St. Joe? He had a run in the other direction."
"I don't know," Kid said, clearly aggravated. "She left that part out."
Teaspoon sighed. "Well, whatever the reason, she thinks he's in trouble. He should have been back by now."
The Kid nodded. "And if he is in trouble, she might need help gettin' him out of it."
"I reckon so," Teaspoon agreed. "Maybe even more than just you. Hold off a bit Kid. Let's get word to Rachel and then we'll both set out. Run down and give this note to Barnett to take to her. I'll gather some supplies." He handed the paper back to Kid. The younger man nodded and then mounted his horse. Teaspoon went into the house. They were both ready to depart five minutes later.
TBC
