A/N: Set in season 1, ignoring the timeline established in the third season episode. Where they were incompatible, for the most part I strove for accuracy to the views, attitudes and world as portrayed by show itself and its characters rather than historical record or personal views.
This story is completely written. I will be uploading one chapter per day.
This is my eighth Christmas fic and, as with all previous stories of its kind, all the chapter titles are taken from lyrics of Christmas songs. If you want to know more about these stories, see the "Annual Christmas fic" section of my profile. If that doesn't leave you feeling properly filled with knowledge of the subject, feel free to drop me a message.
Thank you for your time, and I hope you enjoy the story.
"I sure am glad I ain't makin' today's run," The Kid said, twisting the fingers of his gloved hands around each other in a futile attempt to warm some feeling back into them before turning his attention to wrangling a horse from the corral for the next Rider.
"I just hope Cody can outrun the storm that's comin'," Lou McCloud replied, casting an uneasy glance over her glasses to the tormented sky of piling clouds above which were foretelling either snow or sleet, depending on how cold it was when the storm finally broke; either of which was bad news for Riders caught in it.
Lou had tucked a bridle under her jacket to let the bit warm up before they put it to the first horse Kid managed to catch besides his own. Katey, Kid's lean red paint mare, was traipsing around after him with her nose planted lovingly to his shoulder, probably hoping he was harboring a treat in his pocket. She would follow him anywhere in or out of the pen, probably on account of the fact he lavished more affection on that mare than most men did their wives. He was one of the few Riders that actually owned the horse they rode, and he shared her with no one.
There wasn't a written rule about it, but most of the Riders had adopted a certain policy of readying a horse if it wasn't their run. It sorta grew to be a habit for when incoming riders came in hot to change horses before riding on, so that even if the Rider was starting from Sweetwater one or more of the other Riders would catch and saddle his horse for him. Every rider always checked his mount before swinging up, but that didn't take nearly as much time as getting the animal ready in the first place, and even though runs were a set length in miles, you never knew how long a run was going to be on account of what you might bump into or have to skirt around along the way. If you weren't just back from a run like Ike McSwain was, and weren't the one going on the run like William Cody, it was just the decent thing to do to catch a horse for the one of you that was going.
It was Teaspoon who'd gotten them started on the idea, grabbing whichever Rider happened to be standing around first thing in the morning (usually Buck Cross, who had a rather unlucky habit of getting up earlier than anybody even when he didn't have to, and sticking closer to the Waystation during time off than the others) and setting them to catching a horse. Before long, they'd picked up doing it without being told, a bit out of habit and a bit because they knew how hard a run could be. Fetching a horse was one of the only ways to make it easier.
Finally getting his hands on a grumpy chestnut gelding, Kid said, "I don't see why we've got to deliver mail this week for anyhow. What could be so all-fired important to send 'cross country the week before Christmas?"
Lou shrugged. For that question, there could be no answer. The Riders seldom knew anything about the mail they were carrying, only that sometimes they were told to make the run in an awful hurry and other times there was less urgency to the matter. This was one of those hurried runs that seemed to hold a great deal of importance to somebody, but if Teaspoon knew why, he hadn't told them, he'd just said that it had to be one of their fastest riders who was ready for a run, which had narrowed it down to Cody or Buck. Teaspoon had picked Cody last night, and Cody hadn't seemed too thrilled.
Opening the gate for Kid, Lou reached out with her free hand to give the front of Katey's neck a push, discouraging the mare from following Kid out while he kept both hands on the halter of the chestnut gelding, who was proving mighty disagreeable. A lot of the horses were high-strung, hot-tempered animals, which seemed to go hand in hand with having the fast, hardy characteristics necessary to make runs. Only a few horses were more even-tempered, and they were the ones the riders gravitated towards using when they went into town or on shorter runs. The gelding had particular reason to kick up a fuss today, firstly because it was cold, and secondly on account of a wind that was starting to get going, which was sure to set to churning up the dust on the trail. The gelding wanted to huddle up with his fellow horses, turn his back to the wind and keep his head down until the storm passed. He didn't want to go out in the cold by himself to work. Nobody could've blamed him for being ornery in that context, but you couldn't leave off a horse just because he didn't want to do the job.
Kid had an easier time handling him once the gelding was out of the corral, because by then the horse had resigned himself to fate and went to the tie rail passive as you please. But his head and tail were up, and both Lou and Kid knew he'd bolt for the first few minutes of the run until he'd calmed down some. The incoming Rider would have to transfer the mailbag to someone on the ground. It just wouldn't be possible from the saddle with the way this horse was bouncing.
"Well, Teaspoon said the Rider had to get there in a hurry," Kid remarked, slinging the saddle up onto the gelding's back. "And Red sure looks like he's ready to hurry."
Red snorted at the saddle's weight on his back, flipping his ears back and forth and nodding his head impatiently. If he wasn't going to be allowed to cozy up with his kin, then he wanted to take his temper out on the trail at top speed, which was how nearly all the pony express horses worked out a bad mood. You could not, after all, have a bronc bucking you off because he was feeling his oats. Horses like that weren't fit to ride in the express because a Rider simply did not have the time nor the energy to fight with them. Nobody liked a temperamental horse, but the fact was a horse could be as mean-spirited and spooky as he liked, so long as he'd run a straight line across country about it and didn't break his leg on the way. Far as that went, Red was as solid a horse as they came.
"Rider comin'!" Lou called out as she passed the warmed bridle to Kid.
Kid glanced in the direction the Rider would come from, but they weren't in view yet. It was another second or two before he heard the Rider, and by then he'd gotten Red to take the bit and was starting to slip the headstall behind the gelding's ears, which was when Red started nodding his head excitedly, making it darn near impossible to buckle the chin strap.
Lou had better hearing than Kid, but he was pretty sure Red had heard the Rider first and that's when he'd turned from trying to squeeze back into the herd and gotten eager to run. Though he'd rather be tucked in and warm, Red was like any other pony express horse, full of energy and eager to spend it.
It came as only a mild surprise that Buck emerged from the bunkhouse, pausing on the porch to get his hat on before coming out to check over the horse Kid had just finished saddling.
"I'm taking Cody's run," Buck said before Kid or Lou could ask.
He sounded nearly as grumpy about it as the gelding, causing Kid and Lou to exchange looks before Lou asked, "How come?"
"You'll have to ask Cody about that," Buck said, apparently not liking how Kid had done the cinch and redoing it in the few seconds before Doc came blowing in on his horse, passing the mochila to Lou, who tossed it onto Red's saddle before Buck swung up on the gelding.
Red snorted and danced, trying to take off in any random direction, but Buck held him back and yanked him the right way around before letting out the reins for the horse to launch into an explosive gallop that wasn't strictly necessary and probably wouldn't last, but Kid and Lou both hoped it would get the spit and vinegar out of horse and rider so the rest of the run after would be a mite smoother.
"I wonder what's got into him," Lou remarked.
Now it was Kid's turn to shrug.
Buck wasn't more than an hour into his ride before his mood improved. It wasn't so much that he'd gotten over what Cody had done, as that he'd put it out of mind. It didn't do to ride angry during a run. Anger blinded a rider to dangers on his route, and made it harder for him to control his horse.
Even if he'd thought Cody had meant to prickle him, it still wouldn't be wise of Buck to pick a fight with him. That was a pretty sure way to get himself fired, for one thing. Some of the Riders, namely Kid and Hickok, had gotten away with fighting a time or two, but there'd been no witnesses of consequence for one thing, and they were both white for another.
The way Buck had it figured, if he got into a fight, odds didn't favor him even if there were no other witnesses, on account of the value placed on a white man's word versus that of an Indian. Anyway, he was pretty sure Cody was just being Cody; that is, thoughtless rather than meaning anything by it. Didn't stop it from having a certain sting to it, but it was a sting Buck was pretty used to by now.
Anyhow, out here in the stretches of nowhere between Waystations, a Rider couldn't afford letting his temper get the better of him. He had to instead adopt a mindset more along the lines of a rabbit, keeping clear of predators and running like his life depended on it. Because it did.
Teaspoon hadn't had an easy time training most of the Riders to run instead of fight. Being tough and wild was what had caused them to sign on in the first place, and most of them had a strong mind to make a grab for pistol or rifle first if they felt threatened.
Buck hadn't needed much schooling in that capacity. He'd been on his own for a long time before joining the express, and already learned the hard way what it cost to fight when the numbers were against you. Standing your ground out of pride and survival didn't go together out here, you had to know where you weren't wanted and either avoid going there or get out while the getting was good.
He didn't run into any trouble on the first leg of his run. The almost twenty mile ride to the next Waystation was the territory Buck knew best, and the big red gelding was in a fabulous mood for the fast ride that had been requested. Kid always could pick the most ready to go horse out of a string after looking them over. Once the gelding got the explosive galloping out of his system over the first half mile, he'd steadied down pretty quick.
At the next Waystation, Buck stopped just long enough to throw himself and the mochila off the red gelding and onto the back of the next horse, a pale mare with black spots who turned out to be in a right surly mood and had no interest in running. Buck couldn't get her above a lazy canter without losing control of her trying to turn back towards home until they reached the invisible halfway mark to the next station, at which time her ears suddenly came forward and she bolted like a mad thing, nearly knocking Buck clean off when she unexpectedly and massively accelerated.
Just a half mile out from their destination, the mare took a bad step, causing her to twist off course and gallop her way to a dry gulch, which she didn't think even once about jumping. She underestimated the distance of the jump, missing the mark of solid ground by a bare inch. With a squeal, she went plunging into the bottom of the gulch, nearly sending Buck flying over her head when she landed heavily, still upright and determined to keep right on going. Even as Buck was fighting back into the saddle, the mare plunged up the side of the gulch. So badly seated at that point in the little escapade was Buck that all he could do was grab a handful of mane and hope not to fall off before the mare got back onto flat ground, at which point he was able to drag himself back into the saddle and try to get control over her, though in point of fact the best he could do was get her oriented in the right direction before she took off on him again, her stride decidedly less even than before.
Buck tried to pull the mare up, knowing what losing a pony express horse might cost him and not wanting her to further injure herself… and that's when the mare put her head down, rolled her shoulder and threw him into a partially grown hawthorn, which tore up his coat pretty good when he tumbled through it before coming to a painful halt on the rocks beside it, where he lay stunned for a good few seconds before his senses managed to get themselves sorted out.
An express horse had never knocked him loose before, and Buck's first feeling was one of immense embarrassment. He'd always been good on a horse, and Teaspoon had learned him to be darn near perfect. Being thrown by a horse for any reason was something to be downright ashamed of in this line of work. When he'd recovered from landing on the stunningly rocky ground enough to have a first thought, Buck's training kicked in and that thought was for the mochila.
Sitting himself up over the protest of muscles strained in the fall and blinking to clear the dust from his eyes, Buck looked around for the all important scrap of leather. It turned out the mare had knocked the mochila loose when she threw him off, and it was on the ground no more than six feet away from him. Buck decided to consider himself fortunate on two counts. One, he hadn't lost the mail. Two, he wasn't that far from a Waystation, where he could pick up a fresh horse.
Buck sighed. It was going to be a long run.