Chapter 6

Rock Creek, Nebraska 1872

Buck pushed open the door to the marshal's office. As he settled into a chair, he noticed a stack of official-looking papers on Kid's desk, the seal of the United States Army visible on the topmost document. The sight sent a jolt of unease through him, memories of past encounters with military authorities surfacing unbidden.

His experiences with the army, both personal and professional, had left Buck with a deep-seated wariness. He'd seen their often heavy-handed approach, their disregard for local customs and sensitivities, particularly when it came to his Kiowa heritage. The thought of them becoming involved in the delicate situation with Lara Alba and Joaquin Vasquez filled him with apprehension.

"What's the army want?" Buck asked, nodding towards the papers, his voice tight.

Kid sighed. "They've caught wind of Vasquez being in the area. Want to send a detachment to 'assist' in the search."

Buck's jaw tightened. "Assist" often meant taking over, disregarding local knowledge and trampling over their careful groundwork. "That'll complicate things," he said, his tone measured despite his concern.

"You're telling me," Kid agreed. "But let's start with what you found out today. You've got that look that says you've been busy."

Buck nodded, gathering his thoughts. "You're not gonna like this," he began, his voice low.

Kid leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "Go on."

"I followed her out of town today. She left a note in a tree, bout halfway up an old oak just past the creek."

Kid's brow furrowed. "And?"

"And I read it," Buck continued. "It said, 'Return next week. I'm being followed.'"

"Damn," Kid muttered. "Did you see who picked it up?"

Buck nodded. "A boy, bout twelve or thirteen. Came by a few hours later."

Kid's chair creaked as he leaned back, his face a mix of frustration and disbelief. "And you didn't stop him? Buck, that could've been our chance to catch Vasquez!"

"I ain't the law, Kid," Buck replied, his tone even but with an edge of defensiveness. "

Kid sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just... this case is getting more complicated by the day." He paused, studying his friend. "You know, you could be more than just a hired gun. You've got the skills, the experience. Why not settle down, maybe take a deputy position?"

Buck's expression hardened slightly. "Some of us just ain't that lucky."

"I know you saw things in the war, Buck. Things no one should see," Kid said softly. "That, and those run-ins you had with the Army years ago... I don't know the specifics, but I know it changed you. Changed the man I knew."

Buck's jaw tightened, his eyes distant for a moment. "Some things you can't unsee," he murmured.

Kid leaned forward again, his voice gentle but firm. "You can't hide from life forever, Buck. You've got to start living again. This rootless bounty hunting... it's for the young. And neither of us are young anymore."

A rueful chuckle escaped Buck's lips. "Says the man looking at thirty in a couple of years."

Kid grinned, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Yeah, well, you're not far behind me, old man."

Their laughter faded, leaving a comfortable silence. Buck's eyes drifted to the stack of papers on Kid's desk, the army seal a stark reminder of the complications ahead.

"So, what's our next move?" Buck asked, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand.

Kid's expression grew serious once more. "We keep a close eye on that girl. And we pray that Vasquez shows his face before the army decides to take matters into their own hands."

Buck nodded, rising from his chair. As he turned to leave, Kid's voice stopped him.

"Buck," he said, "think about what I said. You've got a place here if you want it."

Buck paused at the door, glancing back at his friend. A ghost of a smile crossed his face, but his eyes remained guarded. "I'll think about it," he said, knowing that for now, it was the most he could offer.

As the door closed behind Buck, Kid was left alone with his thoughts, wondering if the coming storm would finally be the one to anchor his rootless friend, or if it would sweep them all away in its wake.