Disclaimer: I do not own The Young Riders.

Sam sat down at the dinner table and thanked Emma when she handed him a plate, knife and fork and then put a glass of lemonade in front of him. He took potatoes from Buck and the beef from Cody, filling his plate before grabbing a biscuit from the plate in front of him.

"Biscuits look good," Sam winked at Lou, knowing she'd tried her hand at making them this morning. Lou blushed and smiled and Sam managed to get the bite of biscuit down without choking on it. Ike wasn't paying attention to the conversation as it unfolded around him. He'd just arrived back from a ride to Fort Laramie and back and he was just waiting for supper to be over so he could collapse in his bunk and sleep for a day.

Ike was half asleep over the last of his dinner, head beginning to droop forward and fork lax in his hand. His elbow was on the table, propping his head up on his fist and he jerked up as his cheek slipped off his hand and his hand dropped into his potatoes.

"Widdle Ike-y's sweeepy," Cody grinned, reaching across the table and pinching Ike's cheek. Ike pulled away, slapping at Cody's hand. "You all tired 'cause you stopped in town to chase after Polly?"

Cody's face was laughing and he was obviously just teasing Ike, but Emma looked up at the mention. Ike's face flushed as brightly red as his bandana and he wanted to give Cody a few signs that would have landed him fixing fence posts for a month.

"Polly Tucker? Emma asked, her voice concerned. "Ike, you're courting after Polly Tucker?"

Ike shook his head no and Sam gave a hearty laugh. "Good thing too," he said around a mouthful of beef and potato. "Doc Barnes Jr's been a-callin' after her pretty regular. Every day this week." Sam looked up to see Emma glared at him. "Not that our Ike couldn't compete with Doc Jr, o' course. I mean, uh, o' course Polly'd want Ike. What girl would want – Can I go eat with the pigs?"

Emma just glared at him like he was dumber than a chicken. Ike's face burned like a sunburn. No one would do this to Kid or Lou. Why were his affections fair dinner conversation?

"Ain't Doc Jr 'bout your age, Sam?" Jimmy took a swig of lemonade to wash down some of Lou's biscuit.

"'Round there," Sam nodded, shoveling more food into his mouth before he got himself into more trouble.

Ike felt his stomach knot. He'd left Monday morning and now it was Thursday night and now he found out that it wasn't old Dr. Moses Barnes that was courting his Polly, it was the young Dr. Lansford Barnes who set sights on his girl. Against the old man, Ike might have stood a fighting chance, but he couldn't compete against Doc Jr. He'd never be able to compete with Doc Jr. A mute, bald Pony Express rider against the handsome, smart doctor. That was an even fight if ever he saw one.

Not that he was in the competition at all, Ike reminded himself, trying not to grip his fork too tightly. Doc Jr could have Polly. Doc Jr would be a good match for Polly. Doc Jr could give Polly a whole heckuva lot more in a year than Ike could give her in a lifetime. The truth of that made him angry and Ike made to push himself away from the table, but Teaspoon's drawling voice stopped him.

"When I was a boy, there was a toy train on the top shelf behind the counter at the store in town. Pretty little train, she was. Sanded smooth and painted red and yellow. Her wheels moved when you dragged her across the ground and she came with a coal car and a caboose you could hook up behind her."

Ike rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. This sounded like it would take a while to get to whatever point Teaspoon was going to make, if he was even going to make a point at all.

"All the boys wanted her. Who wouldn't want the pretty new toy? Now, if that train'd been sittin there fer longer than we'd been born, we wouldn't have given it a thought. But she came in one summer night and went up onto the shelf. All o' us would wish after her. Not a one of us had a painted toy or a train with wheels that worked all smooth and fancy.

"By the end of the summer, all but two of us had moved on, givin up the silly dream of callin that there toy our own. That first boy had a rich pa who offered to pay fer the train. Offered twice what it was worth, three times either. The second boy had nothing o' value to offer in exchange for the little toy train.

"But that second boy, he'd never had much in the way of toys and he wanted that train real bad. He offered to work fer the shopkeeper, earn the toy. The second boy worked in the shop for months and, in the end, the shopkeeper gave him the toy, sayin he deserved it because he worked for it, he showed how much he wanted it with how much effort he put into gettin it in the first place."

Ike listened carefully, trying to figure out if Teaspoon was actually saying anything worth listening to. Teaspoon stood and walked over to the hearth, picking up a faded toy train from the mantle and walking back to his seat.

"The first boy was willin ta pay fer the toy, but payin fer somethin, gettin somethin 'cause you have shiny things ta offer ain't the same as earnin it and provin you deserve it."

Teaspoon rolled the train back and forth over the table before rolling her in Ike's direction. The train hit his plate and rocked on it's wheels for a moment before falling onto it's side. Ike stared at the train and Teaspoon started cackling in his spot, laughing so hard his shoulders shook and his eyes watered.

"Polly Choo Choo!"

Emma gave Teaspoon an exasperated look, but Sam burst out laughing like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. The Marshal tried desperately to stop laughing when Emma glared at him, but he couldn't and soon the entire table was shaking with hysterics while Emma threw her hands in the air in disgust. Ike just sat silent and staring at the toy train lying on its side. Reaching out, he carefully righted the little toy until all three pieces were standing on their wheels the way they should. He got what Teaspoon was getting at, but he wasn't sure if deserving Polly worked exactly the same as deserving a toy train with wheels that turned.

A/N:

Poor, poor Polly. I'll never be able to think of her as anything other than Polly Choo Choo ever again.

Anyways, a bazillion thanks to my beautiful sister for helping me with characterization I was unsure about. I love you loads and toads and goads and other such rhyming words.

Thanks so much for reading, I hope you liked it and, please, tell me what you think, good or bad.

Love, Thalia.

P.S. Still angry.