Disclaimer: I do not own The Young Riders.
The buckboard beneath them bumped along the road from the waystation into town and Ike felt uncomfortable in the silence. Polly sat next to him, a respectable distance away but still near enough for him to be fully aware of her presence. Two hundred miles was near enough for him to be aware. He wanted so badly to have a conversation with her, but it was difficult to talk with ones' hands when they were full of reins.
Buck and Teaspoon both rode in on their horses beside the buckboard and Ike wished he could ride Marie with Polly the way they had earlier - her sitting in front of him with his arms around her. She'd relaxed over dinner and Ike was almost sure she'd lean against him now if they were sitting front to back on a horse.
Now, though, going back into town, she sat like a plank was strapped to her back with her hands in her lap, looking straight ahead. There was no laughter or stories of playing hide and seek behind mounds of stacked paper in the print shop and sneaking off to the hay bale loft to read after her chores were done. She didn't speak at all. Finally, as they were about to roll into town, Ike couldn't take the silence anymore. He touched her hand, just to get her attention, and she jerked away like his touch carried the plague.
When she saw the hurt flash in his eyes, she sighed and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry."
"Are you okay?" he asked, signing slowly and hoping she'd understand.
"What's wrong?" Ike nodded. "Nothing, nothing's wrong. I'm fine."
Ike glanced at her with an expression that plainly told her he knew she was lying. She just turned and looked ahead, shutting him out. Scowling, Ike watched the horse make its way towards the church, behind which stood the house occupied by Reverend Williams and his family.
The door to the house opened as Ike pulled the buckboard to a stop. Ike jumped off and helped Polly down as Teaspoon and Buck dismounted. Polly immediately stepped away from Ike was Reverend Williams came bustling towards them, rage coming off him like a smoke signal.
"Where on God's green earth have you been, Polly Tucker?
"Now, hold on a minute, Reverend," Teaspoon sauntered up before the tirade could start. "She's been fine. She had a spill out walkin and we set her right. She had supper out at the waystation."
"The waystation? With that pack of wild dogs and halfbreeds you try and pass off as boys? No girl worth anything is safe there!"
Buck's back straightened in defiance and Ike narrowed his eyes. Teaspoon shrugged, like the words didn't mean anything to him.
"Well, I think the only danger Miss Polly there was in tonight was being a bit overfed," Teaspoon smiled at Polly, but, still, Polly stared straight ahead.
"She comes back with a face like that and you say she's fine? Hunter, we have very different ideas about what 'fine' means. She's the town's teacher. How's she supposed to be a role model to our children when she runs around like a savage? Young lady, your father and I made it very clear what behaviour was acceptable while you lived with my household. Hunter, which one of your boys did this to her?"
"I did it," Polly's voice started off firm, but gained resolve as she spoke. "I tripped and I fell, Reverend. I got scrapped falling."
"Doctor Barnes has been waiting for you. Did you ever think of how fraternizing with these scoundrels –"
"They helped me," Polly insisted as the door opened and closed again. Lansford's boots thudded against the floor, he paused for a second and then his steps quickened until he was right in front of her.
"Polly, what happened?"
"I fell, I'm fine," Polly took a step back and Ike took a step forward at the same time. Lansford followed the movement and, as Ike started talking, made two long strides and punched Ike full across the left side of his face.
Polly screamed as Ike crumpled to the ground. Buck already had his gun out and pointing at Lansford.
"All he was trying to do was tell you she was alright," his voice was cold. Lansford raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender, his chest heaving in anger. He turned to look at Polly, but she was kneeling next to Ike, shaking his shoulder and saying his name. Teaspoon hustled over to Ike and Polly with a mumble of "Lordy Lord" under his breath and helped Ike to his feet. Ike bled slightly from just next to his eye. Polly blotted at it with a clean handkerchief as Teaspoon got him back to the buckboard.
"You keep punchin innocent men, Doc Jr, and yer gonna find yourself one who punches back," Teaspoon got onto the buckboard next to Ike and picked up the reins as Buck grabbed the reins to Teaspoon's horse to lead the beast along side him. "Miss Polly, it was a pleasure havin you to supper. You're welcome any time."
"Why did you do that?" Polly demanded when they were gone. "He never did anything and you just punched him!"
"I'm sorry, Polly. I thought he hurt you. I lost my head for a minute," Lansford touched her shoulder and Polly pulled away. Lansford sighed. "I'll apologize straight away. First chance I get. I promise, Polly."
"He would never hurt me," Polly insisted. She didn't want Lansford to touch her. She didn't want anyone to touch her. She wanted to go back to those moments safe in Ike's arms, but they were only in her memory now. "He's my friend."
"He's no sort of friend for you," Reverend Williams told her. "None of those boys are. I want you to stay away from them while you're living in my house, you understand? You're not to see any of those Pony Express riders."
"He's right, Polly," Lansford said compassionately, his tone gentle and smiling, "They mean well. They're all good boys, really, but they find trouble mighty easy. You're better off staying away. Find some friends better suited for you."
"I'm tired," Polly looked at the ground. "I think I'd like to go to bed. Thank you kindly for calling, Lansford."
"Do you need me to look at your cuts, Polly?"
"No, thank you. Emma Shannon checked them over. They're just scratches."
"Alright. Goodnight, Polly."
"Goodnight, Lansford. Reverend Williams."
Reverend Williams gave a tut of acknowledgement and Polly went inside, trying hard not to run the entire way to her room. She closed and locked the door and stared out the window through the slit in the curtain until Lansford shook Reverend Williams' hand and left. Once she was sure he was gone, Polly changed from her dress into her nightgown, wincing when she had to tug the cloth over her forearms, and crawled into bed.
Polly grabbed the rag doll from her nightstand, the only semblance of childhood she had left, and curled herself into a ball around it. She pushed her face into the doll's black yarn hair and cried. In that moment, all she wanted was to be back in Brookfield, sitting in the parlor after supper, doing the mending next to her mother and listening to Grandpa Tucker read to them with her father whittled. Instead, she was out in the middle of who really knew where, crying her eyes dry over a boy she didn't know, but wanted to so badly and a man she knew she should love, but wasn't sure she would.
She cried for a long time. All the tears she kept inside since leaving Brookfield found their way to her pillow, tears she knew were there and tears she didn't know existed. She cried for her mother and her father, she cried for her sisters and Grandpa Tucker, she cried for her aunts and uncles. She cried for familiar faces and streets, the haytick she slept on every night. She cried for the print shop and her father's church, the barn and the garden. She cried for the Junction and the Big Woods and Collin's Bakery. When she finally cried herself to sleep, the last thought in her head was of solid arms around her back, a cheek to her hair and kisses on her nose.
A/N:
Oh look, another chapter. What's this restraint you speak of? What's this 'Finish the last chapter of your other story!' business? Psht. Noooo... Why do that why you can listen to Ike never stop talking. For a mute boy, the kid never shuts the heck up. I tried to go to sleep last night and he kept me up another hour. Jerk.
Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!
Love, Thalia
P.S. I blame you for my lack of sleep. We'll settle this later. Like men.