The Young Riders

The Journey

By Gabrielle Lawson

Chapter Six

Jenny laughed. She could just see Cody dripping with fat, covered with sand, praying that the spirits would forgive him. Still, she thought he got off lucky. Buck was more forgiving than some might have been in his place. A medicine bag was a serious thing. Ike finished the story and laid his hands in his lap. He was smiling, too, but there was something in his eyes that she could not quite decipher.

They had stopped for lunch and to give the horse a rest. Ike, sensing her anxiousness, had started telling her stories of Buck to take her mind off the wait. And it had worked. Now, it seemed he was waiting for her to tell a story. She did not want to change the mood, so she did not tell how she was taken to be with the Sioux or taken back by the army. And she certainly did not want to tell about the day her mother had died, though it was the day she had first felt something beyond friendship for Buck. He had risked his life to win her, but instead had given her her freedom.

Instead she told about her brother, Two Ponies, and the time he had wanted to help her braid her hair. He was much too adorable to deny, so she had let him. And later she and her mother had spent the greater part of an hour working out all the tangles and knots.

Ike smiled, laughing silently. He told her how he used to pull his sister's braids when he was little.

"Where is she now?" Jenny asked.

Ike's hands made a sign that changed the mood in an instant. Dead. "My whole family was killed."

Jenny hoped it wasn't by Indians. No. No, they wouldn't have killed a little girl. Not the Sioux anyway. Still, she found herself asking. "Was it—"

"Indians?" he signed. "No. Bad men. Murderers. It was a long time ago."

For Jenny, it wasn't so long. She missed her mother's smile, her voice. "Do you miss them?"

Ike nodded. But then he stood up and brushed off his pants. "We should go."


The stench was awful. The horse's carcass had been ripped open by scavengers, but the horse's tack was still there. Teaspoon recognized the saddle easily. Buck. Lou apparently had reason to worry.

Evening was coming, slowly dimming the sky beyond the trees. Paw prints obscured the area around the horse, but Teaspoon could still make out a few details. Buck had stopped, probably to water the horse. But someone had jumped him then, pushing him down into the pebbles. There was blood there, especially on the shallower side of the indentation in the riverbank.

Teaspoon crouched down and studied the scene for a moment, trying to see with his mind what his eyes were too late for. There were four hoof prints perpendicular to the stream: a horse stopping to drink. Beside that, two shallower, but longer, impressions: a rider, dismounted. The blood was farther over, shoulder-high to that rider if he were lying down. And he had been. The large impression in the pebbles at the riverbank: a rider fallen. Hoof prints around the deeper side of the impression and blood spattered about: the horse, shot but only wounded, and falling on the rider. Footprints on the far side of the rider's impression, and nearer the horse's carcass: the assailant.

Deeper indentations still ran away from the prone rider. Two parallel lines: drag marks. Buck had been shot, along with his horse, which had fallen on him prior to dying. And then the shooter had dragged Buck away.

Teaspoon stood, intending to tell Kid what he surmised, but Kid was already following the drag marks back to the tree line.

"Here," Kid said as Teaspoon came up beside him. The rocks had given way to dirt and grass. The prints here were more distinct. Two pairs, one softer and smaller than the other. Hoof prints followed beside the smaller pair. Lou had come this way. It was the horse's tracks they followed as the grass thickened, and the horse led them to two thin lines in the grass set wider apart than Buck's legs when he was dragged. Deeper, too. A wagon.

"She done good," Teaspoon said. "She tracked him, and helped us do it."

"Maybe it was an accident," Kid said. His voice was hopeful, but quiet, like he wasn't convinced himself. "Maybe whoever took him, took him to get him some help."

Teaspoon shook his head, remembering something else he'd seen. There was a bridle on the horse still, but no reins strung out beside it. "Then why'd he take the reins?" he asked softly. "We need to find him, Kid. I hope to heaven Lou already has. And I hope she's safe, too."

Kid didn't comment, though Teaspoon knew he was upset that she'd come alone. He ducked his head and kicked once at the ground. "I'll get the horses."


At first, Lou was glad when the heat began to lessen, but now Buck was shivering. His teeth chattered, causing his breath to come even more irregularly. He convulsed from the pain, but the only sound he made with his voice was when she'd finally cut the rein from his broken arm after his fingers had started to turn blue. He had yet to close his eyes, and his lips moved in silent speech.

Lou didn't know what to do. She'd left him once, to get her canteen and Buck's knife. She'd poured water onto a bandana and tried to cool him down. She tried to help him drink, but he only choked and turned his head away. She tried moving him, but he was heavy and hurt in every place she needed to grab him. She knew he was dying, that the shed was killing him, but she couldn't bear causing him more pain now.

So she held him. She placed his head in her lap and touched his face, gently rubbing his brow. And she prayed. She prayed that Kid had found her note, that he'd come after her, and that somehow, together, they could save their friend. She prayed for God to give Buck the strength to hold out until help came and to ease his pain while they waited.

He thrashed again and clenched the fingers of his right hand on her sleeve. "Shh," she whispered, leaning over his face in the hope that he would see her. "They'll come. Kid will come. He'll bring Teaspoon. You'll be fine. It's over with now."

But he didn't lay still. The pain never left his eyes. The tension didn't leave his face. Not once in the hours that had passed since she'd found him. Lou wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, then kissed his forehead softy. She began to hum softly a tune she'd heard Rachel sing while hanging clothes last week. She was pretty sure he couldn't hear her any more than he could see her, but it was all she knew to do now.


The light was nearly gone from the sky, and Kid was beginning to despair of finding Lou—and Buck—that night at all. They were losing the tracks in the darkness and would have to make camp. He strained his eyes to see the trail. He didn't think he could sleep at all, and he was afraid of what they'd find in the morning. No, he wanted Lou with him tonight, and he was determined to crawl on his hands and knees, feeling for the broken grass, if that's what it took.

"There," Teaspoon called.

Kid looked up to see him pointing toward a small hill. He could just make out the silhouette of a house there.

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," Kid replied. There were no lights, even though it was still fairly early. And the chill autumn breeze would have warranted a fire, but Kid could not make out any smoke.

"That's where the tracks lead," Teaspoon said. "That's where we're going."

Kid didn't argue. He'd be satisfied as long as they kept moving. As they got closer, he could make out a barn and some trees. Another small building stood apart from the house, bigger than an outhouse, but much smaller than the barn.

The tracks led to the barn, but as they approached he heard a pony nicker. Teaspoon put his finger to his lips and motioned for Kid to stay put. Kid stopped Katy and Teaspoon dismounted. He pulled his gun from its holster and disappeared into the trees. Kid stared at the farmstead while he waited, looking for any sign that someone was there. Teaspoon returned quickly though and he brought something with him.

"Lou's horse," he whispered and he passed his find up to Kid: Buck's hat.


Teaspoon knew that Buck had been shot. He knew his horse had likely trampled him before she died. He knew that whoever shot him had tied him and taken him captive. And he knew that Lou had found the horse and followed the trail. And still it had jolted him to find Buck's hat tied to her saddle. In his heart, he had still hoped to find Buck safe in spite of all the evidence.

He and Kid tied their horses next to Lou's and crept quietly toward the barn. They could hear restless movement inside. Teaspoon motioned Kid to check it while he went to the house.

Unlike the barn, the house was completely silent. Not a single light showed through the windows. The creek of the wooden stairs sounded deafeningly loud in the quiet night, but as Kid had said, there didn't appear to be anyone home. Still, it was possible someone had been watching the approach to the house and had doused all the lights in an effort to hide.

He reached the door and knocked. Silence answered him. He tried the door and found it unlocked. "Federal Marshall," he called out as he slowly eased it open.

"Teaspoon?"

The voice was so faint he wasn't sure he'd heard it at all. "Is there someone here?" he said louder now. He didn't lower his gun as he peered into the dark corners of the front room of the house.

"Teaspoon!" It was louder now, but still faint. He knew the voice. So, apparently, did Kid.

"Lou!" Kid yelled back and Teaspoon returned to the porch. He thought to worry about all the yelling, but Lou had yelled first. She would know more of their danger than he would, and she obviously felt it was safe enough.

"Kid!" she yelled again. "In the shed!" And this time Teaspoon could hear the tears in her voice. He started down the steps but had to grab the railing. He felt like all the breath had been pushed out of his lungs, and he couldn't fill them again. His legs felt like rubber, useless and unstable. Buck was dead. They were too late. First Ike and then Noah. Now Buck.

But his legs held him, and his heart took over from his mind. Buck wasn't dead until he saw it with his own eyes. Right then he could see Kid in the moonlight carrying a lantern and sprinting for the shed. Teaspoon drew in a deep breath and pushed himself down the last few steps. Buck was in that shed, and he'd soon know one way or another.


Jenny poked the fire one more time and then laid herself down on the blanket. Ike was still up, checking the horse, he'd said. It was full-on night now, and they had ridden far, stopping to rest now and then. They'd reach Rock Creek in the morning.

Ike returned and sat down on his own blanket. He didn't lie down though. "Get some sleep," he told her. "I'll keep watch." He smiled, but again, there seemed to be something more in his eyes, and every once in awhile she'd catch him looking off into the distance to the southeast. The way they'd come. Each time, she had a moment of fear that her aunt had sent someone after her and that they were being followed. But she was usually able to put that fear away quickly. Her aunt hadn't cared much for her and found her a burden. Why then would she want Jenny back? Besides, she felt safe with Ike. He always volunteered to keep watch and was up before her in the morning. In fact, she couldn't remember actually seeing him sleep, and yet he never seemed tired.

Jenny yawned and said goodnight. She closed her eyes to the stars and tried to imagine what the future would be like. Could she and Buck fall in love? She thought she could love him. Especially after talking with Ike, she felt like she knew him even better. She knew he was kind and thoughtful and quiet, but she had also seen that he was strong. Through all that he had suffered, he had remained merciful. He did not trust easily but when he did, his loyalty was absolute. He was also handsome though perhaps not in a way that other white women would appreciate. He dressed like a white man, but he was dark and tall. He let his hair grow long to frame his strong face. She'd only ever seen a slight smile on his lips but she remembered how it turned up on one side more than the other in an endearing way. Yes, she could love him, and she hoped she would.


The lantern swung as he ran, throwing a dim pool of light this way and that. Something, someone sat in the doorway, and Kid stumbled to a halt. The lantern slowed its swing. "In here!" Lou called, but Kid was stuck on the ghastly face the pool of light now held.

"Never mind him!" Lou scolded, and her tone pulled him away from the dead man and back to worry for his wife. "Hurry!"

Kid couldn't see her. The light from the lantern seemed brighter now that it didn't have to travel so far. However, crates boxed in the light, hiding Lou from him. But she was in here; he knew that. He moved forward and the light stretched a bit farther. He lifted the lantern high and leaned over the crates. He could see her face. And he could see the blood. He nearly dropped the lantern, imagining her chest torn open by bullets or worse.

But she spoke again and her voice was not filled with pain, but with worry. "We need to get him out."

Still, he was her husband, and she his wife, and he had to know for certain. Kid moved around the crates and knelt beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked, touching her face and noticing now the tracks that ran down her cheeks.

Anger burned in her eyes. "I'm fine!" she said, "Buck's not!" Kid felt that like a slap in his face, and he looked down to her lap. He could see now where the blood had come from. Not his wife, but his friend.

"I can't move him," Lou told him. "Not without hurting him more. But he needs to get out of here."

Kid heard her, but it didn't seem real. Time had slowed and pushed her voice away as he looked over his friend. Buck's eyes were half-open in a swollen and bloody face, but if his lips hadn't been moving, Kid might have thought he was already dead. No sound came from him except a soft, raspy breath, broken and uneven.


Teaspoon had frozen for a moment as well, just as the light of Kid's lantern had spilled onto Buck. Lou sat on the floor, cradling his head, while Buck held tight to her sleeve with one hand. But Lou's words had shaken him even while Kid was still transfixed by the sickening sight of what Teaspoon assumed the man in the doorway had done.

"Lou," Teaspoon said, pushing into the small space, "is there anyone else we need to worry about?"

Lou shook her head. "He said Indians killed his family. I saw graves. I killed him, Teaspoon."

Teaspoon just shook his head. The details could be worked out later. Only one thing was important now. Buck was alive, and he needed help to stay that way. He bent down and took one of Kid's arms, hauling the younger man to his feet. "Go to the house and get some blankets." He took the lantern, trusting that Kid could find another in the house.

Kid didn't answer. His face still held the shock; his mouth hung agape. "Why?" he asked. "Why would someone do this?"

"Not now!" Teaspoon ordered. "Go."

Kid nodded and brushed past him, leaving Teaspoon room to kneel. Very gently, he touched the side of Buck's face where it didn't seem so bruised. Buck flinched and tried to draw up one leg. Teaspoon pulled his hand back.

"Shh," Lou soothed. "It's Teaspoon. We're gonna get you out of here."

Teaspoon had to force his focus back onto Lou. He felt his heart was going to break looking at Buck, and his mind was what he needed now. "Where's he hurt?" he asked the girl, no, woman, beside him.

"Everywhere!" she cried softly, breaking loose into sobs now that help had come.

Teaspoon set the lantern on the far side of Buck and put his hand on her back. "Lou, we ain't got time for that. Just think, now, where is he hurt?"

She pulled in her breath and then nodded. "His arms. He's been in here for days." She nodded her head toward a table at the back wall. "They were hitched up there behind him. He couldn't move without tearing them off. His shoulder, because he was shot. His left arm is broken; I think his ribs, too."

Buck's face was obviously a source of pain as well, though not deadly. "His legs?"

Lou shook her head. "I think there's something wrong with the one. But it's not broken."

Teaspoon looked to see which one she was referring to and guessed it was the one Buck wasn't moving. Not that the other was moving much. He ran over her words again. Days. In here. "Water?"

"He won't drink it," she said. "He choked. He's awake, Teaspoon, but not. He said my name once, when I first found him, but that was hours ago."

Teaspoon heard footsteps pounding outside. Kid rushed back in and dropped down beside the lantern with a quilt and two blankets in his arms. Again, he stared at Buck, and Teaspoon had to make him move. "Spread them out. We're gonna get one underneath him so we can carry him out of here. Once we got it under him, Lou, you're gonna have to get that body out of the way. Then get to the house. Get some water heatin' on the stove. Then get your horse and high tail it back to town. We'll need the doctor out here."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him," she said. "Not now. Kid can go. He can take my horse. She's rested. But I'm not leaving Buck."

"We can take him home," Kid suggested.

Teaspoon was relieved he was at least talking and therefore thinking, even if he wasn't thinking right. And he decided Lou was probably right. Kid could go. He needed to be kept busy anyway. "We can't put him in a buckboard and jar him all the way back to Rock Creek, Kid. But you can put the Doc in one and bounce him out here. We're gonna take Buck to the house. Lou will set up a bed for him near the fire." He looked to her for confirmation and went on at her nod. "You'll take her horse and ride for town. Let Rachel know what's going on and get the doctor out here as soon as you can."

"But he could—"

Teaspoon held up a hand to cut him off. "He will if we put him in the buckboard or leave him in this shed. You understand? Buck needs a doctor, and you're gonna get one for him."

Kid finally gave up the fight and nodded. He began to unfold one of the blankets. Teaspoon directed him, first laying the blanket underneath Buck's head. Lou lifted him a little, which elicited more flinching and even whimpers from the semi-conscious Buck. As he and Kid pushed the blanket down Buck's back and upset Buck more in the process, Teaspoon wondered just what it was that was keeping the boy conscious at all.

Lou settled Buck's upper half down gently onto the blanket and had to pry his fingers from her sleeve before she was free to work the blanket down to his feet as Kid and Teaspoon lifted him just a few inches off the dirt floor. "Clear the way, and then get to the house," Teaspoon told her. "We'll need a bed to put him on."

Once she was gone, Teaspoon pointed to the other blanket. "Let's get that tucked in around him." Kid nodded and they unfolded the second blanket.


Lou didn't like the idea of touching the dead man, because he was dead and because of what he'd done to Buck. But she didn't want Teaspoon or Kid tripping over him while they carried Buck out either. So she grabbed his collar and pulled. The body toppled over onto its side and then began to move. It took both hands and a tight grip, but she didn't plan on moving it far. Just so long as it was out of the way. She fell down once as her feet slipped out from under her, but she braced one foot against the side of the shed and used it for leverage. As soon as the man's boots had cleared the doorway, she dropped him and ran for the house.

The house was small, only one floor, three rooms. She found two light beds in one of the rooms and dragged one into the main room near the fireplace. There was no fire and the coals were cool to her touch. There was wood though, piled next to the hearth. Starting with tender and kindling she piled some wood in the fireplace. She found matches on the mantle. She was trying to hurry, but her hands were shaking. She struck one match three times and threw it into the pile when it wouldn't light. She tried another but it broke. It seemed like hours were going by, and she wondered why Teaspoon and Kid weren't there yet.

Finally, the match struck. She concentrated on holding her hand steady as she lowered the tiny flame to the wood. The smallest twigs took quickly, spreading the little flame to slightly thicker sticks until the fire was going well. She picked up a log and placed it in the flames and then placed another on top. She pulled a long twig, burning at one end, from the fire and moved quickly to the stove at the back of the room. She opened the door and scooped some coal with her own hand before placing the twig inside. She found a pitcher and bowl on the sideboard and poured the water off into a pan. She found more blankets and pillows in the bedroom and placed several, folded, onto the bed's thin mattress. She piled the pillows at one end, so that Buck could rest at an angle, which might help him breathe. She laid the other blankets over the foot of the bed to cover Buck once he was inside.

Rushing out the door, she met Teaspoon and Kid struggling with the blanket. She took one corner near Buck's head from Kid and they were able to move faster, though it still seemed a snail's pace to her. Buck was tall and heavy, and the blanket sagged in the middle. He tensed and moaned as they walked, but Teaspoon and Kid had wrapped him well. Still his eyes didn't close. He mumbled words Lou couldn't understand in between ragged breaths and coughing fits.

Teaspoon led the way at Buck's feet. Up the stairs and through the open door. Lou chanced a glance at the fire to be sure it was still lit. It was burning brightly now and beginning to warm the room.

"Easy now," Teaspoon said, as they lowered him onto the bed. Once down, Lou stroked Buck's face again, trying to calm him. He was shivering violently. Lou thought to cover him, but Teaspoon had his knife out. "I'll buy him a new coat," he said, shrugging. Then he began to cut. Lou pulled Buck's knife out from under her belt and started on other side.

Kid stopped her once, just long enough to kiss her cheek. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll see if I can't bring some food and some more clean clothes." And then he was gone.

Lou felt a stab of loneliness when he left. She'd been so desperate for him to come, and it seemed that he was only there for an instant before he was gone again. She was tired. She wanted to collapse into his arms and let him hold her as she cried. But she knew there would be time for that later. Buck needed her now. She pushed her loneliness and pity down deep and went back to work.


TBC