11 Part Harmony Challenge

Challenged to Write at least 11 Stories: 1 for each character in this list: Teaspon, Rachel, Sam, Emma, Tompkins, Ike, Buck, Lou, Jimmy, Cody There were 33 songs to choose from, all of the songs are in the Statler Brothers famous four part harmony.
Character	Title	Summary
Lou	This Ole House	Back at the Sweetwater bunkhouse for the first time in years, Lou remembers the past and considers the ways she has changed.
Tompkins	Angel in her Face	A woman from Tompkins' past brings out the best in him.
Buck	She's Too Good	Buck realizes he's willing to do anything for a woman who's stood by him, even face his past.
Teaspoon	Everytime I Trust A Gal	Teaspoon realizes if he wants to save Jimmy he'll have to sacrifice something very dear to his own heart.
Emma	Have a Little Faith	Can Emma have enough faith to quell her worries about the riders?
Sam	Hats and Boots	Sam's guide to fashion and character.
Jimmy	You Just Haven't Done it Yet	Jimmy finds himself taking still another step down the wrong road.
Kid	What do I Care	Kid tries to prevent Jimmy from making a grave mistake
Cody	No One Will Ever Know	Cody's misunderstood and he's sick of it.
Rachel	There's a Man In There	Rachel realizes that Cody has finally grown up.
Ike	I Was There	Ike's best laid plans for his friends go awry.

This Ole House

Kid and I got into Sweetwater last night. Everybody else will be here today but I wanted to get here early to give Emma a hand. I woke up this morning just as the sun rose; I haven’t done that since the Express ended. Kid was still asleep, curled in a ball on his side of the bed. He always looks like he’s thinking awfully hard while he sleeps, and even after all these years I’m not sure what it is that’s bothering him. I left him there and went downstairs. Emma and Sam were talking quietly in the kitchen over coffee. I considered joining them, but I heard Emma say she thought I was “too thin” and I changed my mind.

Now I find myself standing in the old bunkhouse. Emma and Sam’s boys have taken control of it now. It’s the headquarters for all of their boyhood adventures. I know because Zach had to tell Kid all about it last night over dinner. They’re all three a little in awe of him. Sam expects they’ll be the same around Jimmy and Cody. I can tell that worries Emma a little; she’s not thrilled with the idea of her sons growing into either one of those two. I feel a little vain that it’s Kid, my husband, that she and Sam are proud of, the one they don’t worry about, the one they want their boys to imitate. I can tell that Kid feels pretty damn proud about that too, which is cute…and extremely irritating. I always wonder how one person can be so good, and I wonder if it says something about me that as much as I admire that in him, I find it equally infuriating. It isn’t easy being married to a perfect man.

The bunkhouse smells of dust and those interesting, not entirely pleasant smells of boys. There’s a treasure map spread out on the table, a pile of rocks (“Gold ore” according to Eli) by the door, an assortment of arrowheads and bullets and buttons spread out on Kid’s old bunk, and Cody’s old hat still hanging from his bedpost. If I squint I can see the place the way it was when I first got there. When we all stayed on our own bunks eyeing each other with curiosity and later when we were friends and the room was full of noise and laughter and the occasional fight. At the time the good parts seemed so normal, so usual, and the bad parts seemed so tragic. Now it’s the good times that stick out in my mind as being exceptional and the bad bits for the most part seem so inconsequential.

Emma says her boys like to “camp out” in the bunkhouse when they can, and each of them has taken a bunk for their own. The oldest, Caleb, has taken over Buck’s old place. It’s cleaner than the rest of the room (Emma says Caleb is “particular”), and that’s not a big change from when it belonged to Buck. Where Buck’s medicine pouch used to hang is a battered toy bugle, and there’s a row of turkey feathers pinned to the wall at the head of the bed. Eli has a toy rifle and a hidden stash of maple candy on Jimmy’s bunk, and it looks like Zach has uncovered Cody’s long forgotten library of dime novels. The bunk is overflowing with them and little Zach has torn off any covers with particularly exciting pictures and tacked them to the wall. I see the one from The Adventures Of Wild Bill Hikock and I wonder if Sam and Emma know it’s there.

On a whim, I find myself climbing up the ladder to my own bunk. When I sit down on it, whispy clouds of mousy smelling air puff up around me and I suddenly feel very old. The sheets are gone, but I lay back anyway and stare up at the knot in the ceiling that I used to stare at during sleepless nights. I remember crying into this pillow, turning my face to this wall when Kid had made me mad. From up here I could see all of them as they slept, and I used to watch them sometimes and wonder what they were dreaming of, in some cases hoping it was me. I look around and I can almost see them all young and asleep. I have to force myself not to cry when I look at Ike and Noah’s old places. There’s still a dent in Ike’s pillow. One of the Cain boys, no doubt, but it makes a lump in my throat anyway and I have to look away.

The sun’s a little higher now and Kid is probably wondering where I am, so I sit up again and stretch, ready to return to the land of the living and leave my memories behind. I hear something rustle under my mattress and I pry up a corner to get a better look. Back towards the wall, sandwiched between the mattress and the bed, is a folded bit of coarse paper. I manage to get it out and set it on my lap, turning it over in my hands. Vaguely, I seem to remember it, but I don’t know exactly why.

When I unfold it, dried flowers spill out and fall to the floor below. I hop down and start to gather them up, placing them on the map on the table. There’s two daisies, a tiny wild rose, and a four leaf clover. In the beginning, I used to hoard anything that made me feel like a lady. Things like this were precious to me, and there were times when I’d just take them out and daydream. I run my fingers over one of them now and it crumples under my touch. They’re so fragile, just like I was.

I sigh and tuck them into my pocket. I close my eyes and imagine those days, surprised at how easy the memories come back. I can even hear Kid calling my name outside in that irritating way he did when I’d done something to worry him. How I bristled under that. It’s not until the door opens that I realize his voice was not only in my memory. He walks in and looks at me quizzically, says he was looking for me.

He’s learned not to say he was worried, but I know he was. This morning, it doesn’t bother me and I smile at him and melt into his arms. I want to tell him how much I love him, how happy I am that I still have him after all the others have drifted out of our lives. He’s my anchor to those days and without him I am afraid of what I might have become. He tells me that Emma has breakfast on and adds, “And just like always, Cody showed up just in time to eat.”

There are things that never change, and then there is the rest of life. Who I was when I first walked into this bunkhouse, the girl who was afraid and hiding behind glasses and short hair, I wonder how she grew into the woman I am now. How did that stubborn, reckless person become so content with cooking and sewing? I remember how Kid used to make me so angry I thought I was made of gunpowder, and I think of how now there is nothing about him, not even the annoying bits, that I would change. Once I felt that the boys who slept in this room were my brothers, there was no one I knew better, no one I trusted more, and now, beside the one holding me, they’re strangers.

Kid asks me what I am thinking and I don’t know exactly what to say so instead I only kiss him. Today, we’ll all be together again, and regardless of Teaspoon’s intentions, it will not be the same. As I look around that room one last time, I feel a sharp grief for those boys, that girl, that lived here so long ago. All of them, even the ones that are still breathing, are dead now. Kid takes my hand and I tilt my head up to see the morning sun outlining his profile and the feeling passes. Whatever regrets I have, there are some changes I would not trade to have those days back again.

Angel In Her Face

It’s the fourth of July, 1868. Wagons and horses and people keep pouring into Sweetwater kicking up great clouds of dust that swirl and settle on the street, blow into the store dirtying my shelves. A lot of people in town is generally good for business. But the fourth has always felt like more trouble than its worth. Too many kids underfoot, sassy brats that put their sticky little hands on all the merchandise (sticky I might add from the free candy I feel obligated to give them being a holiday and all), and the older boys always try to lift an apple or a pocket watch.

When there’s a lull in business, I like to sweep off the boardwalk out front, try and keep things tidy. Besides, the store heats up in the summer and there’s lots to see on the fourth, so I wander outside and take stock of who’s in town and who’s absent, and I watch the young people play games in the street. Since the war ended and I moved back here, the fourth has gotten considerably jollier than it had been in some years. But it still doesn’t compare to the ones I seem to remember.

And I’ll tell you why, though it grieves me to admit it; I miss those damned Pony Express riders. I’m cantankerous, it’s just my nature, and surely they never saw me as anything beyond the grumpy store-keep, but I sorta took a shine to them. Sometimes, when there’s no one in the store but little mousy housewives and their ringleted girls with their yes, pleases and no thank yous, I almost wish those boys were back around making mischief. Almost.

I’m leaning on my broom handle in the sun, still remembering the stars that swam before my eyes after that skillet hit me. Even after all these years, I could easily work up to a good temper thinkin’ on that. I was within my rights. Maybe I wasn’t particularly nice, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m a business man first and foremost, and I don’t care how good a man that Indian might have been, he wasn’t good for business. But I’ll admit after what he did for Jenny, I figured him to be about the best man I’d known for sometime. Well, they all were. But troublesome, and I lost a good deal of money when they were shopping in my store. It’s been downright peaceable since they’ve gone their own ways and I’m grateful for it.

Down the boardwalk, I see a fine lady walking my direction. She’s just the sort I like, though it’s been sometime since I’ve courted. Never had the gumption for it after Sally. Just ain’t worth it in the end. I don’t like risk in business and I don’t like it in life either. But this woman, reddish hair, showing just a little more skin than a good lady ought, she got my blood going again. And, much to my disgust, she gets me to thinking more on those boys. Emma Shannon was one thing, not a woman to dally with, but when she moved on and they hired Rachel Dunne…well, let’s just say I may have stretched that woman’s credit more than the books could hold. Not that she’d take a second look at me, mind you, not with the way I had to treat those boys just to keep my store in one piece. She spoiled that lot something terrible that’s for certain. If I’d been one of those young fellas, I’d have gone to hell and back for a woman like that. But I wasn’t young then, and I’m certainly not now, and I’ve got my account ledgers and some good enough whiskey to keep me warm at night.

When we recognize each other, I feel my face go red and with a grunt I go back to sweeping, not wanting to be caught staring. I think she might have smiled in my direction, but I doubt it. I turn back when I hear her call my name. She’s just past the smithy now and I can see her face and the dipping neckline of her blouse and I gulp at the air so that I’m sputtering, trying to breathe. I try to smile and wave a little, find myself walking towards her even though in my mind I know I might as well put out a sign that says “Free Licorice. Injuns Welcome.” as leave the store unattended. That’s the trouble these days; I can’t seem to make myself do what needs to be done. I’ve started giving into whims and flights of fancy and that’s not good for business. But we’re walking towards each other and she looks almost happy to see me, after all, I am a familiar face.

Some saddle tramp walks out of the blacksmith between us and collapses. Just like that I’m forgotten. Rachel’s face radiates concern, and not for the first time I think there’s something angelic about the woman…plenty of the devil in her too, though, thank God. She’s helping the tramp up, and I’m sort of stuck there. There’s all sorts of unsavory types glancing in my windows, seeing what they can reasonably get away with, but I can’t walk away. I’ve never cared much what folk thought of me, but I’ll be damned if I let Rachel know I’m so uncharitable as to leave the stricken fellow in the street, even though on an ordinary day, I would. She looks up at me over the boy’s head and her eyes tell me that I’ve done the right thing. I help her hoist him up and settle him on a barrel outside my store. Now I can keep an eye on things and still look the gentleman.

When we get the boy settled, we both realize he’s a girl, a woman actually. I’m about to say something about that, when I remember Rachel’s got a tolerance for that sort of behavior and I bite my tongue. Rachel asks me for some water and I run off like a school boy sent on an errand. I get back and hand Rachel the glass. She makes the girl drink. The girl says she’s got a friend waiting for her just west of town. She’d just come into town because one of their horses threw a shoe and she doesn’t have time to see the doctor, they’re supposed to be on the road again before dark.

I don’t know what I’m thinking, because it’s the fourth of July, and all sorts of folk who don’t ever come into town are here and wanting to buy their wives’ something pretty, their kids some candy, their old mother’s some yarn, maybe some tobacco for themselves, but I offer to go tell her friend where she is and bring him into town if she’ll go with Rachel to the doctor. Rachel looks up at me with gratitude and surprise. I don’t blame her; I even surprise myself when I’m this nice. The girl says I don’t have to do that, what about the store and I hear myself saying, “Won’t hurt anything to be closed an hour or two”. But it’s already hurting. My chest is tightening up just thinking about it. Rachel looks at me with those soft eyes and pats my arm as she helps the girl up and the pain changes into a warm glow. I hate that glow.

The girl points out her friend’s horse. She says he might want to go on without her, and if so to tell him she’ll catch up. Rachel says maybe he’ll want to come into town to check on her and the girl looks doubtful. They’re already half-way across the street when it dawns on me that I should ask her friend’s name, know who I’m dealing with.

“Buck Cross!” she shouts back and I’m stunned into absolute stillness. Rachel stops too, looks from the girl to me. She’s surprised too, and her eyes are already narrowing, waiting for the ugly thing that’s going to come out of my mouth. I just nod my head curtly and turn to lock up before heading out.

All the money I might have made in the time it’s going to take me to fetch that half-breed isn’t worth half of the look I see on Rachel’s face when she realizes I’m going anyway. And when she smiles at me, that damned glow gets a little brighter and before I know it I’m smiling back. Being an old fool, for a moment I entertain some thoughts about flowers and kisses and nonsense and I turn away briskly to keep her from guessing that. I try to perk myself up, reminding myself that I’m bitter and crusty and my heart is made of flint, but I melt like butter around that woman and now I find myself hauling my creaky old bones atop my creaky old horse and setting off to find that Indian. Love. There just ain’t any profit in it.

She's Too Good

In the morning, Lizzie reminds me of an extremely ugly puppy. I’ve learned to stay awake for awhile after she falls asleep at night, trying to memorize how beautiful she looks when the light of the dying fire dances in her hair and her face is peaceful and perfect. Although we’ve been riding together for a few years now and after all those mornings I should know better, I can never help myself and I end up pulling her against my chest. I can’t fall asleep without her nestled against me and the soft warm breeze of her breath on my skin.

But by the time the sun starts to rise, the angel I fell asleep with has morphed into a squirmy creature that makes me shudder just a little. There’s a sticky spot of drool on my chest, and my arm is pins and needles beneath her dead weight. Her mouth is open, her brow furrowed, her skin hot and greasy. She never wants to wake up, and as I start to draw away and disturb her, she’ll grunt angrily and flop over away from me. Sometimes she curses at me under her breath. When I finally wake her so we can move on, she looks at me grumpily. She scrubs her face brutally until it’s red and shiny, and it makes me wince to watch her drag a comb through her curly hair with such ferocity that her entire head moves with it. It takes a few hours for her to forgive me for waking her, and a few hours more for her to start looking like my girl again. All through the day, she gets prettier and prettier until we fall asleep again, and I beg the spirits to let me wake up with the beautiful, intoxicating woman I went to bed with. So far, they have ignored my prayers.

This morning, I was grumpy too. We haven’t had money for food for a couple of days now, and last night Warrior threw a shoe. The nearest town is Sweetwater and the last thing I want is to come face to face with any old memories. Lizzie never asks me about my past which is one of the reasons why I can almost make myself believe I love her. She went into town with Warrior and promised to be back before long. I’m counting the minutes until she returns; I want to put some distance between us and the past.

But she’s not back soon. It’s a good thing she’s got both horses, because otherwise I’d be tempted to ride on alone. I’m not sure why, exactly, Lizzie keeps on with me. I have to remind myself that I haven’t ever asked her to ride with me, that she’s just always here and she could always leave. Things haven’t been easy. We find work here and there when we can and when the job is over we move on. Once in Poplar Bluff she got a job in a dress shop and I was a hand on a horse ranch. It was a nice town; we could have stayed there and gotten married and lived a real life. But staying in one place too long makes me uneasy; it gives me time to remember the things I’d like to forget.

I knew better than to scout for the army. But the express was over and nobody wanted to hire a half-breed. Cody had sworn up and down that Captain March was a good man, that he only needed an interpreter so he could talk peace with my brother. So I led him to the camp.

I was in prison with my brother for six months before I was finally let go; in those months Red Bear refused to speak to me, could not forgive me. He might still be there, or he might be back with our people, or he might be dead. I haven’t the courage to find out.

After that I was tired out. I’d given bits of my heart to so many people, and all of them had left, but my blood kept going of its own accord. It wasn’t my plan to end up back at the mission, it was just where I wandered to. The sisters needed a man around the place. Father Shane died some years before and the church hadn’t sent anyone else. For a couple of years that’s what I did. I mended fences and repaired roofs and slept in a one room cabin in the middle of the kid’s vegetable garden. Then the bishop called the sisters back to Saint Joe.

Maybe I should have gone with them, but the Indian children wanted to return to their people, not go even farther away. The sisters were in over their heads to get back with just the nine white children, so they agreed to let me return the others. Luckily they were mostly from the same band. Their people were starving after signing a treaty that kept them confined to an area with little game and less water, and they’d sent their children here willingly, hoping the sisters could feed them. It took me ten days to get all twelve of them back to where they belonged. On my way back, I found the sisters, the other children, the wagons, burned and bloodied.

I had to bury them there where I found them, but I knew that the sisters’ spirits would not rest out there. I had no choice but to head back to the mission for a wagon. They had to be buried on their holy land by the chapel, or I was sure their black habited spirits would follow me in my dreams. I chose not to think about what had happened to the bodies I could not find. Whoever had done this would not have granted mercy.

When I could see the mission’s walls, she was standing silhouetted in the gateway. She wasn’t in her habit, but I recognized her anyway and I found myself throwing myself into her arms. Sister Elizabeth. Lizzie.

She won’t ever tell me why she’d stayed behind and I know that decision sits as heavy on her heart as my past sits on mine. So here we are, wandering through our present, avoiding the future, forgetting the past.

The sun’s pretty high and I manage to shoot a rabbit and the smell of it as it cooks makes me a little light-headed. Lizzie should be back soon and I try to save her some. She hasn’t looked well as of late, and she’s been even crankier in the mornings than usual. For someone who hasn’t been eating much, she’s been throwing up a lot, and I have to force myself not to think about it. If she’s sick…I shake my head, she’s not sick, she’s fine, Lizzie is always fine.

I know she needs to eat too, but the smell of the rabbit is too much and without even thinking about it, I’ve finished it all. I’m trying to hide the evidence and feeling like a naughty little boy when I hear horses approaching. Of course, she’d come back right now. She’ll tease me and pout, but I know she won’t blame me, and I know she’d do the same in my position. That doesn’t make me feel less guilty. In fact it makes me feel worse, because I know she doesn’t have to live like this. I remind myself again that I never asked her to, that she chooses to stay on her own.

When the horses come into view, I recognize Warrior but I know the old sorrel nag with him is not Lizzie’s Arthur. And the grizzled old man riding it is sure as hell not Lizzie. When I realize who it is, the rabbit starts to fight its way back up my throat. “Buck!” he yells out at me in a voice so familiar, so grating, that I’m already angry before he’s said anything else.

I must turn white when he tells me Lizzie’s sick in town because suddenly he’s grabbing my arm to steady me and forcing me to drink water from his own canteen. For a second I think he must be somebody else because Tompkins isn’t like that. I ask hoarsely where she is and he tells me that if she’s not still with the doctor, Rachel would have taken her out to Emma’s.

I shudder, realizing that I’m going to have to face some of my past after all. He mentions that Lizzie said she’d catch up to me if I went on ahead and I can only stare at him. Only Tompkins would think that was a real possibility. Lizzie and I have made no vow to each other, in fact, I can’t remember ever saying I love her, but she has chosen, for reasons only she knows, to bind her life to mine. Even though I’m surly, even though I do not tell her about the nightmares that keep me awake, even though I’m not good enough for her, just a half breed, just a poor man with a lot of ghosts following me, she is there when I fall asleep and there when I wake up.

I don’t spare a lot of words for Tompkins, and quickly gather our gear, mount up and turn to follow him into town. Briefly, I wonder if Rachel and Emma both live in Sweetwater now. It has been years since I have spoken to any of them, and I realize I have no idea what I might be riding into. I falter, knowing that Lizzie will not hold it against me if I move on. And then I remember what she’s like when we fall asleep and I spur my horse a little faster.

Every Time I Trust A Gal

The war’s been over for years now, and it’s taken me this long to get all my boys together again. And it ain’t all of ‘em, anyway. ‘Course, Noah and Ike have gone on to better places, but I ain’t been able to get word to Buck. Not sure where he is. I thought Cody would know, but if that boy knows anything that doesn’t concern him, he troubles himself to forget it. Still I managed to get most of us together today.

When I step up those stairs to Emma’s door, I’m just about burstin’ with pride over the pretty little gal on my arm. Lily’s a beauty and it does my old heart good to see her bright smile and feel her cool hand on my arm as she looks up at me from beneath those long lashes that make me feel twenty years younger. I was nosing around Missouri, looking for Jesse, when I met Lily. She was in a peck of trouble, and it was my honor to help her out of it. I never imagined I’d find myself married again, after all I ain’t ever been exactly lucky in romance. Maybe it was a mistake, falling in love usually is. It seems like every time I trust a gal, she always lets me down…but I’m cursed with a hopeful nature and I can’t seem to help myself. So here I am with a bride as young as my boys, maybe younger, and happy as a jaybird!

I haven’t knocked yet. I’m still fussing with my suspenders when the door swings open and Emma comes flying at me, three little boys tumbling out the door after her. I’m barely out of her arms before there’s another lovely lady crushing these old bones. At first I don’t recognize her. She’s as young as my Lily and just as beautiful. It’s not until Kid shakes my hand, which turns into another tight hug that I realize it’s Louise. I’m proud as punch to introduce them to Lily, and I pretend not to notice the smirks they pass between each other.

Sam’s out doin’ his duty as marshal, and the stage from Rock Creek don’t get in till two with Rachel on it. But looking around the faces from Kid to Lou to Emma to the three little Cain boys scrappin’ in the dirt, I notice a few people unaccounted for. “Where’s the others?” I ask, because Cody and Jimmy promised to be here and if they’re not, I’d just as soon set out now to find ‘em and tan the living daylights out of them. They’ve left to run in some sort of horse race the town’s holding and I wish I’d gotten here sooner so I could’ve put some money on Cody. So we sit on the porch, drinking lemonade, sharing stories of the past couple of years. Lou and Kid haven’t had any little ones yet and when I jokingly mention it they both get real quiet and Kid gives his wife a little squeeze. I regret what I’ve said, but you can’t turn back time. I’ll make it a point to talk to each of them before they head back home, see what fatherly advice I can impart.

Lily sits beside me and I pat her hand every now and then, wondering how I got so lucky. When the horses come thundering into the place, it’s obvious that that bet on Cody would have been misplaced. He’s scowling fit to beat the band, and Jimmy’s got a trace of laughter across his tight features. It’s a funny story, and Cody knows how to tell it. I’m so busy laughing at what he’s saying, I don’t pay Jimmy no mind as he leans on the porch rail across from Lily.

When I do turn to him, I’m startled by what I see. He’s not a boy anymore. I suppose none of them are, but Jimmy looks older than I feel and his eyes are swimming with the darkness that used to only gleam in them now and again. He’s paying attention to the conversation Lily’s having with Louise and Emma, all about the details of her wedding dress. Doesn’t seem like a topic that would interest Jimmy much. When he catches me looking at him, he looks away sorta guilty like, but he’s a hard man these days, and he can only admit to so much.

I’ve seen all I need to though, and I chuckle to myself and look over my bride once again. Her hair’s all sunshine and her eyes are like violets and the only thing that suits her better than her smart little dress is the way her hand is curled over mine. I can’t blame the boy for lookin’. If I was his age, I’d have done the same…hell, I did the same now.

Cody’s jabbering at him, trying to get him to join some acting troupe he’s got going but Jimmy doesn’t seem to cotton onto the idea. I’m gonna have to find time to talk to him too. It’s obvious from the way he moves and the way his hand flinches towards his belt anytime a firecracker goes off that Wild Bill’s been busy since I’ve seen him last.

My mind starts to wander towards those that ain’t with us today, and I wonder out loud where Buck is. Cody has little to say about the matter and the way he sets his jaw makes me wonder if something happened between them. When I ask, Cody will only say that Buck disappeared of his own accord and he’s tired of wasting time looking for him. I’m so busy listening to Cody rant about how everyone’s been askin’ him to find Buck, and blamin’ him for Buck’s leaving, that I’m not watching Lily.

Pretty soon I forget she’s even there, and I guess she notices because she takes her hand away and says she’d like to take a walk around. I only nod because now I’m worried about Buck and Cody both. I guess we all forget that Cody’s got a conscience of his own and it sounds like lately it’s been a guilty one. Lou gets up with Lily and the two beauties stroll off towards the stable. Kid follows his wife and Jimmy follows Kid, and Cody’s left behind to bear the brunt of Emma’s and my concerns.

By the time Lou and Kid get back, rosy cheeked and laughing, giving me suspicions as to what sort of walk they took exactly, Cody’s retreated to the far end of the porch to deal with some dust that’s blown into his eyes. Emma’s got a plate heaped with sandwiches and she’s wringing her hands because Sam should have been home by now with Rachel in tow. Suddenly I remember Lily and I ask Lou and Kid where she and Jimmy got off to. Kid starts to blush and looks away but Lou answers with a straight gaze, “Don’t know Teaspoon. Kid and I…got distracted.” She has a wicked smile that one, and I beam up at Kid and wink. He blushes even more and I can tell it tickles his wife to see him squirm.

I’m just starting to think about setting out after Lily when Sam pulls the buckboard into the yard, Rachel and someone else sitting next to him. Rachel’s running around hugging us all like she hasn’t seen us for years, even though Cody manages to find his way to her table anytime he’s passin’ by and Kid and Lou just moved out of Rock Creek a year ago. Sam’s shaking my hand and beaming, asking me if I’ve met his sons.

All of a sudden, the greetin’s are over and we all turn towards the other passenger. She’s pale and her eyes look like she’s been cryin’, but she tries to smile. Rachel’s got an arm around her and is ushering her onto the porch introducing her around as Lizzie. Seems the heat got to her in town and she doesn’t know anyone in Sweetwater. Tompkins is out to fetch a friend of hers from where they were camped outside of town. The girl says her friend doesn’t like coming into towns and she’s alright now anyway, so she might as well head out so they can be on their way. Rachel is insistent that she stay, and there’s a twinkle in her eye that makes me think there’s something more here than meets the eye.

Sam complains about having to take care of the buckboard before eating and I offer to do it for him. “’Sides,” I say, “I was headed to the stable anyway to see if I can find my wife so’s you all can meet her.” I turn on my heel then, grabbing the reigns and leading the horse and wagon towards the stable. I don’t need to turn around to see the expression on Sam’s face or hear the burst of girlish laughter from Rachel, Lou, and Emma. Let them laugh, let the whole world be happy, my heart’s so full that I can only hope some of it spills out and infects the others.

I might have suspected it when I was younger, but age has made me more content to expect the best instead of looking for the worst. When I turn in at the stable and my eyes adjust to the dark, I see them by the far stall, Jimmy’s palomino nickering over their shoulders. It’s a pretty picture, and at first I forget my place in it. I’m struck by the way the sunlight leaves golden streaks across them and the way his hands are so tender as they stroke her hair. In a heartbeat I realize the kiss is ending and I’m not ready for this. I can already see the look of guilt and stubborn pride on Jimmy’s face. When it comes to women, the boy is perfectly bullheaded. So, I turn away, back up, clear my throat loudly before I round the corner again.

It’s like the scene before never happened. Jimmy’s turned away from me and Lily is stroking Sundancer’s nose, chatting away. For a moment, I consider forgetting what I’d seen before. She’s such a pretty thing, and I’ve gotten used to her next to me at night, to the way she rubs my shoulders at the end of the day, the way she burns my toast and makes coffee that wouldn’t be strong enough for a church mouse. And then Jimmy turns around and I get a look at his face.

That son of mine needs something. He’s lookin’ for a rope to pull himself up and out of whatever hell he’s found himself in. And if what he needs is Lily, then by God, I’ll let him have her. I’ve never liked to think of marriage as a life-long commitment anyway. Why a man of my character lives a hundred lives before death finally takes him, and one woman can’t possibly suit all of them.

Anyway, I’ve decided to lessen Cody’s burden and start my own search for Buck. I may have failed Jesse, but I’ll be damned if I let another one of my boys down. Which is why after I’ve had a chance to sit Lily down and tell her what’s what, I’m going to have to have a talk with Jimmy. I’ve been trying for years now, and whatever it is that boy needs to keep himself from sliding down the wrong path, I ain’t it. He’s going to feel guilty about it; he isn’t so far gone he won’t feel guilty. And I’m gonna have to put on my best poker face and tell him he don’t have to. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of romance long before Lily came along.

I take care of the buckboard and the horse, telling them both about Rachel’s arrival. When I’m done, Lily takes my arm and walks with me back to the house. I see her look over her shoulder at Jimmy and I try not to smile. It’s a delicate situation and if I tip my hand too much they’ll both get so bogged down with guilt they’ll forget whatever they found in each other. Later, I think to myself, I’ll deal with it later. Right now Tompkins, of all people, is riding into the yard and there’s a familiar looking young man with him and it’s going to take every ounce of me to welcome that boy back into the family.

Have A Little Faith

There have definitely been times when I did not expect I would ever see all my riders together again. Until Buck rode in a little while ago, it seemed he had disappeared forever. I suppose I should have trusted in Providence and Mr. Spoon to see our prodigal son home. He hasn’t said anything about his disappearance, no apology, no excuse. He was far too concerned about his lady-friend to pay any of us much mind. Besides there’s the dance and fireworks tonight and time enough tomorrow to give that boy what-for. Worrying us all like that. Well, you’d expect that sort of behavior from Jimmy – Cody even – but never from Buck. Maybe that girl can knock some sense into him.

It seems safe to assume that neither Buck nor Lizzie have anything nice to wear tonight, so I’ve dug up an old suit of Sam’s and a dress of mine and I head downstairs to see they get them. Everyone’s been giving them their privacy in the parlor, even though we’re all just as curious as can be. When I reach the parlor door, I see Rachel and Louise pressed against it, listening intently. I’m about to lecture them about eavesdropping when Lou whispers fiercely, “She’s pregnant!” and they both lean in again. I can’t help myself and I lean forward too, catching only snippets of what’s being said. When Lizzie tells Buck that he can still ride on without her, he takes too long to answer. I know that boy wouldn’t leave her in this condition, but as the minutes tick by and the silence continues, I start to bristle a little. Lou and Rachel exchange surprised looks and I know they are thinking the same thing as me.

I’ve had enough of this and without knocking I push the door open. Lou and Rachel scatter and I stride into the room, the pile of clothes in my hands. The two of them are sitting side by side, not touching, looking like strangers and it’s all I can do not to smack Buck upside the head and tell him to hold her.

I drop the clothes with a plop between them. “I found you two some things to wear to the social. You can change in the boys’ room.” They both start to protest but I’m not taking any guff. “No arguments. Now, Buck, we’ve all been nice enough to leave you be this evening but we’re not leaving you out here alone to run away again, and nobody’s going to miss the dance for you either.” I’m so worked up that I can’t help but add, “Don’t forget you have a responsibility to your family.” I hope he realizes that responsibility includes the girl sitting next to him.

All Buck does is hang his head and nod. But Lizzie looks at me with some spunk and stands up, edging just her shoulder between myself and Buck. “Thank you, Mrs. Cain, we’ll be happy to go.” What she says is beside the point, the meaning is clear: I’m not to speak to Buck that way.

Now I’m really mad. Who does she think she is? That’s my boy sitting there and I’ll speak to him however I choose. I have half a mind to turn them both over my knee. Instead I only nod and turn on my heel.

I stomp off to the kitchen where Rachel pours me a cup of tea and motions for me to sit down. We do not know each other well, but even a blind man could tell I’m upset. So I’m not particularly surprised when she asks me if I want to talk about it. She’s got a hint of a smirk on her face and I suspect she knows exactly what’s bothering me. I tell her what happened and she nods knowingly, her smirk wry and understanding.

“I think they must have a very…interesting relationship,” is all she says. I stare at her, my eyes unblinking. She looks thoughtfully into her cup as she drinks and then she adds, “I suppose none of us really know Buck that well anymore, but I certainly would never have picked her out for him. She’s so…”

She pauses, searching for the word. There are a hundred things I’d like to call her. Insolent. Brassy. Loose. Sly.

“Mousy,” Rachel says. That seems more than a little forgiving in my opinion and I all but rant about the girl. Obviously she’s been using poor Buck’s sweet nature to dictate his life for him. It’s her fault that he hasn’t even written a letter for four years. She’s the reason why he doesn’t have a steady job, why he hasn’t eaten in days, why he has no place to call home. And now she’s gotten pregnant just when he gets back to his family. Very convenient for her, I think.

Rachel laughs and pats my hand warmly, “Oh, face it, Emma, there just isn’t a girl good enough for our boys except Lou. And sometimes even she’s an idiot. Poor Lizzie doesn’t have a chance against you and me.” I’ve mostly spent my temper in ranting, so I can laugh a little at what she says. Rachel smiles at me, “Give her a chance, Emma, I think she really loves him.” Rachel’s talked to Lizzie more than I have, so for the time being I’m willing to believe her, but I’ll be keeping my eye on that girl.

I start to wash up our cups and as I do I look out the window to where Jimmy, Cody, Kid and Sam are looking over our new colt. Before I turn away I see Buck join them, looking nervous and shy. Cody is the one that invites him into the conversation, pretending there is nothing he doesn’t recognize in the quiet, haunted man Buck has become. It takes only a moment for the five of them to look like they once did, in that same yard, years ago. I sigh and turn away.

I never thought they’d grow up at all, let alone into strangers. I say so to Rachel and she only nods. She stands and we both gaze out at the window, watching them. I can’t help but worry. I twist my skirt in my hands as I speak, “It ain’t just Buck that worries me. Have you talked to Cody about his wife? I don’t like the sound of it at all. No wonder the boy wanders around here and there with the Army, he’s being hen-pecked to death!” It’s like I’ve let a dam open, and all my worries just tumble out, and I feel my face getting redder, my eyes starting to water, “Jimmy’s skulking around since he’s been here, I’m afraid to ask why. And I don’t like the way he’s been looking at Lily. You know he can be so stubborn and prideful, and I don’t want him or Mr. Spoon getting hurt. And has Lou told you anything about her and Kid? She’s never said anything to me, but I’m sure it’s a burden for them still being without children.” I twist the skirt in my hands a little tighter, “And I never once heard Buck say he’d marry her, or that he wouldn’t ride on without her. I just can’t believe one of my boys would do something like that. What if he leaves her? I would snatch that boy bald-headed if – “

Rachel chuckles and interrupts me, “Do you think we did that bad of a job with them? You have to have a little faith, Emma. You did good by these boys; they’ve grown into good men.”

I squeeze her hand, “You had a hand in it as well.” We look out at them again. Sam’s taken the colt back to the stable; the others are still standing there joking back and forth with each other. I can hear the front door open and close and the four men look up at who ever it is that’s standing on the porch. Buck smiles in a way I almost recognize and jogs off. Rachel and I both lean forward and try to peer around the corner. He’s picked Lizzie up off the porch and spins her around, her feet just off the ground. He sets her down and beams at her, placing a hand on her stomach.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and lean away from the window. Maybe Buck, at least, will be alright; I’ll have to leave the others in God’s hands, for now.

Hats and Boots

Why the boys have to be clean for the social in town tonight, I don’t know. All the kids have been running amuck today, and even the spit-shined little Jenkins girl has hands sticky from candy floss and streaks of dust on her dress. I know because when I was working in town earlier she came up to me bold as brass and asked me when Caleb was coming into town and did I think he’d like her new dress. I had to fight from laughing right out loud. Lord knows where that boy got his way with the women; it sure as hell wasn’t from me. Emma insists that all three of them be spotless, with shiny boots and dust free hats. Now, if you ask me clean boots and a clean hat are a disgrace to a man. I can’t think of a single likable fellow that hasn’t a little bit of grime around his hatband. And I don’t like my boys to be too dandified. Anyway, I figure if Emma was going to let them run wild all afternoon, then she could be the one what cleans them up. As usual, she’s quick to point out the flaws in my idea.

I’m tempted to handcuff Eli, because he’s squirming like the dickens to avoid having his face cleaned. Caleb’s already washed up and he’s now standing by the mirror pondering a couple of bandanas. He seems to be stuck between a green one and some sorta gaudy thing with black curlicues all over it. He asks my opinion but I’ve finally got Eli pinned down and Zach is yakking my ear off about his “Uncle” Cody’s rope tricks. Which gives me an idea and I send Caleb downstairs to ask Cody about the bandanas. I can’t think of anyone better suited to answer that seemingly important question.

Finally, I get Eli and Zach clean and tidy and I send them clattering down the stairs to get their mother’s approval. As I come down the stairs myself, I can tell from the ooh’s and ahh’s that they’ve impressed Lou and Rachel too. Caleb and Cody are standing by the hallway mirror still discussing the bandanas. When Cody tosses away the curlicued one calling it “ostentatious” I almost laugh. If anyone’s taught me the meaning of that word, it’s William F. Cody.

Buck’s dressed in one of my old suits and he looks uncomfortable, tugging at the collar and scratching the back of his leg with his foot. That girl of his doesn’t look particularly comfy either, and the two of them make an unlikely pair. Lou and Kid are handsome and happy and he’s dancing around the room with her standing on his feet, singing a song loudly and off-key. Rachel turns to Cody and straightens his tie, brushes the shoulders of his jacket. She’s a handsome woman, there’s no denying it. But when Emma comes sweeping into the room I lose my breath. Don’t matter how many years I spend with her, she still looks like all of heaven and earth rolled up in one perfect if aggravating package.

The boys and I line up to be inspected by her. She starts with Zach and works her way up to me. She doesn’t make me turn my hands this way and that or pull my head down to look behind my ears, but I know she’s lookin’ me over all the same. Evidently she likes what she sees because she smiles up at me and gives me a big kiss right there in front of God and everyone.

Teaspoon saunters into the room, beaming around at his grown boys and I beam at mine as they try to stay still and keep clean. I know Eli’s got a garter snake in his pocket, but I pretend not to see it. Emma wouldn’t allow it, but if I made my boys be as good as she wanted them to be I wouldn’t have sons at all, just angels.

Which is why while she’s still occupied with the other women, doing all those last minute things to their hair and their dresses that I swear to God don’t change a damn thing, I quickly usher all the boys outside. Now I can give them a little inspection of my own. “Alright,” I whisper quickly, “We gotta do somethin’ to keep you all from lookin like jack-a-dandies. C’mon now, kick a little dust up on your boots.” Caleb protests that their mother told them specifically to stay clean and I answer, “That’s why we gotta get ‘em just a little dusty so she can’t tell.” I look over at the other two as I say it because they don’t have any problems being disobedient and I can tell they’re gettin’ close to being outta hand. Caleb still hesitates, so I scuff up my own boots a little more myself.

He looks up at me soulfully, digging a toe into the dust, but very carefully, “Pa, I don’t wanna get dirty. Anna Jenkins will be there, and I’m sorta her beau, and she isn’t gonna like me no more if I’m not all spruced up.”

I just shake my head at the boy and lean down, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Caleb there ain’t a girl alive that wants a boy as clean as you are right now. Why, a man that clean is just dam – darned unnatural. Y’see, son, your hats and your boots tell where you’ve been, and where a man’s been is the best way to tell a man’s character. Now, do you want Anna Jenkins to think you spend your time at teas and ladies’ bees or do you want her to think you’ve been ridin’ out on adventures?”

“Adventure!” Zach shouts, being a little over-zealous in dirtying himself up. Eli shushes him quickly before he gets loud enough for Emma to hear and be suspicious. Caleb starts to get his boots a little dusty and I start takin’ off their hats and beatin’ ‘em up just a little, crinkling the brims, rubbing a little spit in around the edges. I’m careful to set them back on their heads at a jaunty angle…women folk love a jaunty angle. Caleb quickly takes his off again and goes about fixing it and I just shake my head.

It’s too late to fix him up again because Emma and the rest of ‘em are headin’ out the door now. I notice that Cody is just as spotless as my boys were and I shake my head. Jimmy leads us out of the yard and into town, Buck and I bring up the rear, just behind the wagon with my boys in the back. “Eli, Zach, mind your mother,” I say for about the fourth time and smile apologetically at Buck. Emma’s told me that his girl is expecting, and I don’t want to scare him off of fatherhood, but those boys are a handful. I say something to him to that effect and he looks at me startled. He asks how I knew and I just nod up towards Emma.

He groans in irritation and his horse slows down so that he’s barely moving. I reign in myself. I figure this is the point where I should offer some advice appropriate to the situation, but to be honest I’m not sure exactly what the situation is. I’m feeling my way around the topic, trying to keep my foot outta my mouth and failing miserably. There’s an awkward pause while Buck considers whatever foolish thing I’ve said, and then I notice Caleb. He’s taken his bandana off and is carefully wiping off his boots. I don’t know what I’m goin’ to do with that boy; he’s an absolute mystery to me. Clean, good-mannered, a downright disinterest in guns, he’s what my ma would’ve called an odd duck.

I look over again at Buck, and I can’t help but wonder what his kid’ll be like. I know Emma’s worried about him, and I can tell Buck is plenty worried himself. I look at his boots, scuffed up but in good repair, and his hat, battered and dingy but at a jaunty angle, and I’m not worried at all.

You Just Haven't Done It Yet

Every time I think I’ve gotten about as low as a person can get, I get a little lower. It makes me wonder if there’s anything I can’t do, if the chips are down and I set a mind to it, there isn’t a law I wouldn’t break, or a friend I wouldn’t betray. It’s frightening sometimes, and it keeps me up at night, drinking whiskey and being kept company by any number of scantily clad ministering angels. The first time I was offered money to call a man out I told the fella straight out, I didn’t do that. He was a slick banker, real polished and he looked at me with cold little eyes and said, “No, son, you just haven’t done it yet.” Sad to say, he was right. But when I found myself somehow alone with Teaspoon’s new wife in Sam and Emma’s stable, I realized that I hadn’t hit bottom when I thought I did.

I didn’t come here meaning to be dishonest, but when I was face to face with Emma, I knew I couldn’t disappoint her. And worse, when I saw Kid, I knew I wasn’t going to prove him right. Kansas during the war was an ugly place, it forced men, good men, to do ugly things, and like everybody warned me, once you start down that path, you can’t turn around. Since I got here, I’ve tried to be the Jimmy they knew before, not the one who shot his own deputy, who sometimes trades on his famous name for free drinks. It’s made me more tired than even the longest, roughest ride.

With Lily, it’s different; she doesn’t expect me to be anyone or anything and so I just let myself be. What is it about women? I can face down any man with a gun and I don’t flinch; I rarely even feel regret anymore, but put me with a sympathetic woman and I go all soft inside. Maybe if she was heartless, if she’d flat out admitted she didn’t love Teaspoon instead of only saying it with her eyes, I could have turned around and walked away. But as she twirled the wedding band around her finger, I could tell that she doesn’t want to hurt the old man any more than I do. She sniffled when she said she’s not good enough for him, that she knows she’s going to hurt him. And that’s when I knew I was going to kiss her.

Since then we’ve avoided each other. It hasn’t been hard. Everybody’s so wrapped up in Buck’s sudden arrival that I can stay pretty much to myself without being bothered. But now, at the social, I can’t help but stare at her and our eyes meet often enough for me to know she’s having the same problem. Teaspoon’s keeping his eye on Buck and he doesn’t spare much time for Lily so I find myself with ample opportunity to lead her out on the dance floor. I can tell from the way Cody looks at me and Lou’s comments that I’m going overboard. Even Emma raises an eyebrow when she meets us at the punch table and Lily is holding onto my arm, leaning into my shoulder. I meet her gaze levelly, my face like stone, even though I know that her wordless accusation is a valid one.

We talk while we dance. She makes me laugh, something I thought I’d forgotten how to do. I tell her that she’s beautiful and she blushes, but I suspect she knows it’s true. I’m not thinking about Teaspoon when I ask her to run away with me. I’m only thinking that the small of her back is the exact same size as my hand. “When?” she says in reply and it’s Teaspoon that’s on my mind when I answer, “Tonight. Right now.” I can’t stay a minute longer, with or without her I’ve got to get away. It was bad enough when only I knew what I’ve grown into, but now Sam is shaking his head at me from the edge of the dance floor and I know that the jig is up. They can all see it now. They can all tell how far I’ve fallen.

Lily leans her head against my chest, and as we spin across the floor I watch my friends in the crowd. I won’t be back to see them again. Buck’s back and it’s my turn to disappear. These days it’s so much easier being Wild Bill than being Jimmy. In the corner of the dance floor, Lou and Kid are hugging each other close, laughing and whispering at each other. All my life I’ve been searching for that. Maybe I could have had it, maybe with Rosemary, maybe even with Lou, but something always got in the way. Emma and Sam are staring at us and I can tell by the furrow on Emma’s brow she’s telling Sam how worried she is. He’s rubbing her back and telling her it will be okay, and I find myself without thinking doing the same thing to Lily. “It’ll be alright,” I whisper, even though it never has been before.

The song ends and I have to pull away. I tell her that I’m going for my horse, that I’ll be back in five minutes. She’s going to wait for me on the edge of the party, just past the church stairs. I nod and walk away from her. Sam puts a hand out on my shoulder as I walk past him and starts to say something. I shake his hand off and keep walking. He calls out after me, but he must figure since I’m leaving I can’t do any more damage and he lets me go.

I’ve got my head down as I lead Sundancer quietly behind the stores to where the street isn’t lit up by lanterns and laughter. I hear him before I see him, and I have to sigh in exasperation. It don’t matter how many years pass, I’ll always hate that voice. “Don’t” is all he says.

“Get outta my way, Kid,” I growl back, praying he’ll back down, even though I know he won’t.

“I’m not lettin’ you do this, Jimmy,” he answers, his eyes looking straight into mine. I can tell then that I haven’t ever fooled him. “You can’t hurt Teaspoon like this.”

How the hell does he know what I can do? There’s a whole list of things I’ve done that Kid could never do, because he’s right, and fair, and he’s never had men gunning for him because of his name, and he’s never watched entire towns get slaughtered in war. There’s nothing I can’t do. Anything that was ever holding me back I lost a long time ago, and I can’t get it back. I can hurt Teaspoon, and I’m going to, and if Kid stands in my way, I’ll hurt him too. I put my head back down and keep walking, not looking to see if Kid steps out of my way, because I know he won’t.

“Jimmy…” his voice is pleading, and I pause because I know that he’s right,

I know I should turn around, I know I should ride out alone.

I can’t look at him, “I ain’t like you, Kid. I can’t do the right thing.”

His voice is angry, “You can too! You just haven’t done it yet!”

It’s the wrong thing to say; it reminds me of the last time I heard it and all the reasons I’ve got to leave Sweetwater behind. I’m so tired of tryin’ to be the man they want me to be, tired of fighting against who I am. He puts his hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me. It’s like instinct, fighting Kid, I know exactly how to fake with the left and I know how to come in with right so his teeth rattle and my knuckles bleed. Of course, I should’ve known he’d swing back.

What Do I Care

When I realized what Jimmy was going to do, I tried to forget it, push it to the back of my mind. Years have passed, and it’s none of my business what he does. What do I care if he makes another mistake? At this point he’s made so many, one more can’t hurt.

But I couldn’t ignore it. I kept seeing them dancing together, while Teaspoon was lost in the crowd, pretending not to watch them. I will admit that Jimmy and I have had our fair share of arguments, but I never figured him to be hurtful. Even when I used to see him and Lou together and it felt like someone had lit a match in my heart, I always knew Jimmy didn’t like that it hurt me, but he’s so bull-headed and he wanted Lou, and what that meant for me was just a necessary evil to him. So as angry as I was, I could never actually work up any hatred for Jimmy, because I knew if he could have Lou without hurting me, he would.

But this is something different entirely. This is Teaspoon, the man who raised us like his own sons, who taught us what it was to be men. He’d give not just the shirt but the skin off his back for any one of us, Jimmy especially, and Jimmy knows it. Why he’d want to throw that away, to ruin the happiness Teaspoon’s found and deserves, I can’t begin to figger out. And all over a pretty face, because that’s all that girl is. So far she hasn’t shown a spark of personality, just batted her eyelashes up at him and smiled soft smiles – but that’s always been one of Jimmy’s many weak spots.

It sorta ruined the evening for Lou and I. I was pre-occupied and she knew it. You live with somebody for a few years and it doesn’t take much to know what they’re thinking. She tilts her chin up, she crosses her arms, and I know that I better back down. I tighten my lips, hold her hand a little too tightly, and she knows I’ve got something on my mind. So though we tried to laugh and dance and enjoy ourselves, she was busy being mad at me for stickin’ my nose in other people’s business, and I was getting angrier and angrier at Jimmy for makin’ me stick my nose in in the first place. We’ve grown up since we first married though, and I’d lay money that every last one of our friends thought we really were laughing and dancing and enjoying ourselves.

When I saw Jimmy and Lily split apart on the dance floor and head in opposite directions, I sighed right out loud. Finally good sense had triumphed over Jimmy’s recklessness, and I could enjoy the evening. But the way Jimmy pushed Sam aside, and the way Lily seemed startled when Teaspoon found her in the crowd, stuck in my craw.

Now it ain’t none of my business what those two do. She’s not my wife, and I’ve learned the hard way that Jimmy doesn’t want my advice. So I force myself to forget it, force myself to smile at Lou and mean it, force myself to lessen my grip on her hand. After all what do I care if Jimmy screws up his life a little bit more? What do I care if Lily forgets her wedding vows? What do I care if the two of them run off and we never hear from them again? But then I look over and see Teaspoon, standing by himself at the edges of the party, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him, and I do care.

I let go of Lou’s hand and tell her I’ll be right back, but she puts her hand on my arm and stops me. “Don’t get angry at him,” is all she says. It’s ridiculous advice. Of course I’m going to get angry at him. What he’s doing is wrong, but it’s just like Jimmy to only see the way he wants things to be and not the way they really are. I nod at Lou, agreeing, and I hope she doesn’t know I’m lying.

Of course, she does. Now she’s got both of my arms and is staring straight into my face, her jaw clenched, that look in her eyes which means trouble if I don’t listen and listen good. “You are not going to get angry at him, because if you do he’ll just get angry right back and I refuse to worry about you two shootin’ at each other anymore.”

I look at her, shocked. Since we bought the ranch and I stopped marshaling, I haven’t even worn my gun regular. And I was never the hair trigger in the bunch. If any one of us, her included, wasn’t fond of turning to the gun when things got tight, it was me. I open my mouth and I close it. I know I’ve got one fight comin’ up, I’m not sure I want to add a fight with my wife on top of it. She laughs and almost means it, “Don’t look like that. This is Jimmy Hickok we’re talking about. You don’t always cling so hard to right and wrong where he’s concerned.” Again my mouth opens and closes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. After all these years, everything we’ve been through, and she still thinks I can’t handle Jimmy. “I’m serious, Kid,” she says giving me a vicious little shake, “you know that I’m right.” And maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean I have to admit it.

She’s held me up so long that Jimmy’s already leading his horse away from the crowd when I catch up with him. I stand in his way, I tell him not to go. From the minute he opens his mouth, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I know I won’t be able to do what Lou wanted. He’s surly and sarcastic. “I’m not like you, Kid. I can’t do the right thing.

What does he think, that it’s easy for me? If doing the wrong thing were such a strain, I guess there’d be more folks like me, with a sense of responsibility and honor. Things being as they are, I’d imagine it must be a lot easier to take the wrong path than the right one. And I’m tired of letting him, Buck, Cody, the whole lot of ‘em off the hook. Where’ve they been these past years? Doin’ whatever they please regardless of the pain it might be causin’ the rest of the family. And where have I been? Working damn hard to make a home for me and Lou, doin’ what was right and it wasn’t always easy, not by a long shot. It wasn’t easy to stay home during the war and endure the taunts of coward and the threats from eager recruitment officers while Virginia was ripped apart. But I did it because I had to. And it wasn’t easy leaving behind the badge and moving to Seneca, but I did it, because Lou shouldn’t have to worry about whether I’m gonna come home at night with a bullet in my chest.

So when Jimmy’s fist finally meets my jaw with a crunching noise like thunder, I’m more than happy to swing back. Should I fight him? Is it really the right thing to do? Hell if I know, and what’s more, I don’t much care.

We’re older, both of us, and it takes fewer punches to see stars and have to pause, breathing loudly, staring at each other through sweat and blood. He can’t tell that there’s tears mixed in with the grime on my face, but maybe he hears it when I whisper, “Jimmy, don’t go,” my voice breaking.

He hangs his head, his hands on his knees, “I can’t stay,” he mutters.

There’s a hundred things I should tell him. I should tell him that Lou and I are drifting weightless without the rest of the family. That we stopped fightin’ when there wasn’t anyone else around to mind our business, and I ain’t sure it’s a good thing. That she worries about him, and that worries me. That our ranch needs a foreman, and he needs to hang up his guns. But the breath and the fight have gone out of me. Maybe we’re all trying too hard to hold onto something that’s already gone. Maybe we ain’t really family.

My mouth opens to say something, what I don’t know, but something to get him to stay, something to make him see that Lou and Teaspoon and Cody, even, are worth more to him than that girl. But then the fireworks start, and we both look into the sky where the lights explode like shattered glass, the boom making my heart rattle in my ribs.

I hear Teaspoon’s chuckle before I see him, and I immediately turn towards the sound, looking for him, hoping to keep him from seeing, from knowing that Jimmy’s about to stick a knife straight in his back. I barely make out his form and I turn back towards Jimmy, but he’s already on his horse and moving towards a lone figure by the church steps. “Jimmy!” I holler after him and the sound is drowned by another earth shaking boom as another firework explodes overhead.

Teaspoon’s hand falls heavy and warm on my shoulder, and I don’t know what to say. “They get off alright, then?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and a weary smirk on his face.

“Jimmy’s a fool,” I mutter bitterly. What else can I say?

“You try to stop him?” Teaspoon asks but I don’t answer. I guess he figures things out from my crumpled shirt and the blood still seeping from my nose and he nods at me. “Better not let your wife know you fought.”

And that’s it. Nothing more is said and we both watch as Sundancer heads out of town, the two people atop him silhouetted against another burst of fireworks, gold and green against the blackest of skies.

No One Will Ever Know

Jimmy’s making eyes at Teaspoon’s wife, Buck’s made a fallen woman of a nun, but as usual, I’m the one in trouble. Ever since I got here, it’s been nothing but nagging from Emma, from Lou, from Teaspoon, even Kid got in on it. When Buck finally rode in I thought I’d get a break. After all, what exactly have I been doin’ that’s equal to going missing for four years and living in sin with some frizzy haired nun? But of course, nobody has a bad word to say about Buck and somehow it turned out it was my fault he’s been trudging along all sad and hungry.

Well I’m sick of it. I didn’t know Captain March was really a low-down, no good lying coyote. And when I found out what had happened I pulled a lot of strings so that Buck could be a free man. And then he just disappeared. No one seems to remember that I’ve been writing Rachel and Lou and Emma and Teaspoon since I left, and Buck hasn’t even let anyone know he was alive. I even make a point to drop by when I can, and for what? So I can get blamed for everybody else’s bad luck? Meanwhile, Jimmy and Buck just go their own merry way, doin’ everything Teaspoon ever told us not to, and gettin’ away with it. It makes a body sick just to think on it.

Then Emma and Teaspoon had to start in on Clara and the kids all the while whisking food out from under my nose and giving it to Buck or Jimmy. “Why didn’t you bring Clara and the girls with you?” “You shouldn’t be away from home so much.” I’d like them to try living with that woman and then talk to me about staying home. I’m not about to tell them that Clara refused to come along, wouldn’t let me bring any of the girls, and I had to fight tooth and nail to get here myself. Truth is, I’m thinking on not going back either. But no one will ever know about that.

And that’s not the only thing they’re ignorant of. Everyone acts like they know me inside and out, like they are all qualified to point out where I’ve gone wrong. It’s all I can do sometimes not to list all the upstanding things I’ve done since I’ve grown up; all the things they won’t ever know otherwise. I never pass through Rock Creek but I stop by the mercantile and pay off Rachel’s tab. I’m the owner of the land Kid’s leasing who gives him such reasonable rates and plenty of time to make payments. I paid a pretty penny to see that the story of Wild Bill Hickok killing his own deputy was hushed up and not printed in every paper from Abilene to Timbuktu. ‘Course nobody knows that. I don’t like to make much of a fuss out of my good deeds, but when they all start gettin’ on me, my humble nature starts to fail.

Once we’re in town and the women folk are all interested in the fireworks and gossiping about dresses and hats and such, I can finally slip away from their nagging and I find a cool place and an empty bench just outside of Sam’s office. I flop down and take a long breath. Reunions. They’re not what you hope for.

I lean back and watch the festivities. There’s more than one girl I’d like to dance with, Teaspoon’s Lily being one of them, but I’m afraid that will start a whole new round of nagging, so instead I stretch out my legs and tip my head back for a little nap. I’m just barely drifting asleep, the beginnings of a great dream with a ham dinner and Lily in her undies just starting, when I feel somebody sit down next to me. I can’t help but sigh. It’s obvious I won’t be getting any peace tonight. Still, I decide I’m not going to make it easy on ‘em, and I refuse to acknowledge that anyone is there. Minutes pass. I don’t expect any of the ladies would stay quiet for so long and my curiosity is starting to get the better of me. I fight it but finally I peer out of one eye at the interloper.

“Rachel!” I sit bolt upright. She’s the last person I’d expect to seek me out, and the only person I wouldn’t mind talking to. Tonight she’s looking especially lovely and as my eyes slip down to the top of her dress and the rise and fall of her chest I’m reminded of those dizzy feelings I had when I first met her. I don’t know if I’d ever been in love before. ‘Course I thought I was in love just about every other day, but Rachel was different. It wasn’t just that she’s quite likely the most gorgeous thing to ever walk this earth, it was that she was sweet and gentle and funny and made the sort of roast that made your mouth water just thinking about it. I sigh again, just thinking about that carefree love I felt as a boy. It took getting married for me to realize that love comes with responsibilities, that there’s as many ugly feelings as there are the kind that make you feel all stirred up and flipped around.

“It’s not like you to sit out a dance, Cody,” Rachel says without looking over at me. She’s been unusually quiet since she got here, spending most of her time hiding in Emma’s kitchen. She’s been alone in Rock Creek since Kid and Lou moved on to Seneca. I wonder if she’s lonely there, with only memories for company. I make a mental note to find more reasons to stop by Rock Creek. Rachel echoes my earlier sigh, “You boys are all so grown up; I hardly recognize most of you anymore.”

She’s still looking out at the party. The dancers beneath the paper lanterns. The children sitting on the edges of the boardwalk, their faces smeared with cake. I follow Rachel’s eyes and look at Buck and his girl, standing awkwardly at the edge of the crowd. He’s unrecognizable until he laughs then, for a moment, he’s the man we knew, but just as quickly he fades away. I look around for Jimmy. Last I saw him he was finally leaving the dance floor and Teaspoon’s wife behind. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on him, after all we all know Jimmy’s luck with women. It’s only a little better than mine. “Where’d Jimmy go?” I ask Rachel.

“He left,” she answers, “He took off with Lily just awhile ago.”

She says it all so calmly, as though Lily wasn’t married to Teaspoon at all. “Took off with her? What do you mean?” I turn my body towards her, and finally she looks at me.

“They ran off.”

I’m stunned into silence, which for me is unnatural. My stomach growls softly. “What about Teaspoon?”

Rachel sighs again, “He knows.” I look out at the old man prancing around with Lou and his smiling face and I find it hard to believe. “He watched them go. He just wants Jimmy to be happy.” I keep staring at Teaspoon, looking hard for some sign that his life has just crumbled but I’m not seeing it. I think of how I’d feel if Jimmy ran off with Clara, and realize that I’d be dancing too. Rachel grabs my hand in hers, “C’mon, Billy, let’s dance.”

She drags me out and I can’t help but grin when I’m holding her in my arms. For a moment, I let my mind and my eyes wander down her neck and towards her chest. I remember myself and look up quickly, and Rachel just shakes her head and smiles. I can feel the heat rise in my face and my grin gets a little wider. Teaspoon’s talked Buck’s girl into dancing now and they’re a terror on the dance floor, dancing without rules but with enthusiasm. We turn to our left and almost bump into Sam and Emma staring at each other mesmerized and hardly moving. We turn to our right to the sounds of Lou’s shriek as Kid twirls her off her feet.

It’s late, the last dance of the night, and Rachel lets my arms help hold her up, as though she were too tired to remain upright. She even tilts her cheek in against my shoulder and I’m almost knocked over as my stomach churns and my blood stampedes with the same intensity it did before the war. Without really thinking, I run a hand over her red-gold curls, marveling at their gilded beauty and my own boldness. I expect to be slapped, but the gesture gets no response from Rachel.

I still love her. The realization hits me like a charging buffalo to the gut, knocking out my breath and turning my knees to jelly. I falter and she drowsily rights herself, finishing out the dance on her own feet. The light is dim, so it’s easy to convince myself that her eyes are glowing, that they echo what I’m feeling. I put a hand to her cheek and she closes her eyes, relaxes against it. I curse myself for wearing gloves, for putting anything between us. Damn my sense of style!

Clara. The thought springs forward in my mind and I groan in irritation as I drop my hand and straighten my spine. The song ends and I walk Rachel back to the group, her hand on my arm like a branding iron.

I’ve got a wife and two daughters in Saint Louis and I love a woman in Rock Creek. Guess I’ll add that to the list of things no one will ever know.

There's a Man In There

By the time the dance is over and we’re back at the Cain’s, I’m exhausted. Completely dead on my feet, ready for nothing but a warm cup of tea and a very soft bed. What I get is Lou and Kid arguing loudly on the porch; Emma fretting over where she’s going to put everyone for the night; and Teaspoon looking old and weary. We’re huddled in the kitchen, myself, Teaspoon, Buck, and Lizzie. I’ve got the tea brewing and we’re all trying to pretend we don’t hear the conversations going on in the hallway and outside the front door.

Lou’s voice carries through the heavy door and into the kitchen, the pitch familiar, the indignant tone even more so. “So you had to fight him? Why do you always have to end it that way, Kid? You can’t just talk to him?”

Kid protests, quieter and the sound of it fades away, probably because he knows he can be heard. In the silence that follows whispered bits of Emma and Sam’s conversation come filtering in under the door. “Where are we going to put Lizzie?” Emma’s voice is a little frantic. We’ve been problematic guests and she has those three boys on top of us. At this point, I’m so tired I don’t much care where I sleep, just so long as I do.

“I guess she goes with Buck,” Sam whispers back. I can tell from the pained but disinterested look on Lizzie’s face that she’s paying close attention to the conversation. She’s gripping Buck’s hand so tightly her knuckles have turned snowy white and her face is grim. I think we might be a little overwhelming for her. Buck says she’s shy, and we’re…well, not. Everybody has their nose in everybody else’s business and we’ve all but smothered the both of them with attention since Buck got here.

Emma’s voice comes back, higher pitched, defensive, “Saaaaam, they’re not married –“

I see both of them flinch at that and Lizzie looks absolutely mortified when Sam laughs, saying, “Well, Emma, I think it’s a little late to care about that, what with her in a family way and all –“

I hand Lizzie a cup of tea as Sam’s voice is drowned out by Kid. He’s angry now, and the angrier he gets the more icily controlled his tone. “I’m sorry, Louise. What did you want me to do? Just watch him run off with Teaspoon’s wife and never say anything? How could I do that to Teaspoon, huh? If Jimmy wants to ruin his own life that’s his business, but he doesn’t have to wreck everyone else’s to do it!”

Cody saunters in from the back. He must be at least as tired as I am, and yet his face is plastered with a smile and his step is still bouncy and boyish. He’s just put the boys to bed out in the bunkhouse, and he pours himself a cup of milk and sits down with a grunt at the table. “Just like old times, huh? Lou and Kid screamin’ at each other; Sam and Emma skulking around whispering,” he looks around the table with a crooked grin, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

No one answers and I see his face fall. It’s barely noticeable, guess he’s grown out of pouting finally, but it’s there in the faltering of his smile, the dimming of his eyes. I pat his shoulder as I sit down next to him with a cup of tea. Poor Cody, he’s not meant for solemn occasions and this fourth has certainly ended on a fiercely solemn note. Though he’s talked a good game, Teaspoon looks as tired as I feel and has gone from spry and young at heart to haggard and old in a matter of hours, minutes even. He’s unusually quiet, only speaking when one of the boys says something too harsh about Jimmy. His ability to understand and forgive is near miraculous, and I think it odd that a saint should wear such ridiculous suspenders or such a shabby hat.

Cody sets his empty glass on the table with a thud that’s amplified by a momentary lapse in the outside conversations. “Well, guess I should hit the hay,” he says matter-of-factly, “I promised the boys I’d stay out in the bunkhouse with them tonight.” He plays with the fringe at his wrists, “They sorta look up to me – like a hero, you might say. What’d ya think, Teaspoon? Want to camp out with us desperadoes? You could spin some instructional yarns for the young rascals.”

Teaspoon looks up at Cody’s words, and a little of the old spark is in his eyes and a sly smile starts to soften his lined face. “Cody, I think those boys could definitely profit from some of my worldly experience.”

Cody nods and smacks his hand on the table as he and Teaspoon stand up. “Buck?” he asks as they turn to go, “Caleb’s got a great collection of arrowheads. I told him you’d be able to tell which tribe they were from.”

Buck pauses, looks over at Lizzie, squeezes her hand. “Lizzie can stay with me in the boy’s room,” I say quickly, “There’s a trundle bed she can use. Look at her, she can hardly keep her eyes open.” I stand up and collect the cups and glasses, stack them in the sink. I take charge of Lizzie, smoothing back her hair and shooing Buck away, “You boys go on now, have your fun. We girls need our beauty sleep.”

“Ah, Rachel, as if you could get much prettier,” Cody answers back with a little bow. It’s just gentle teasing, but I feel the heat rise in my cheeks anyway and I have to look away from his blue eyes. Buck whispers something to Lizzie and she nods, letting go of his hand. The three men trample out the back door, Cody muttering as they go, “At the rate he’s goin’ Kid’ll probably be joining us.”

I put my arm around Lizzie’s shoulder and guide her out the door and into the hall. We have to pass by Emma and Sam and she begins to blush the minute she realizes it. I have to pity the poor thing. I excuse ourselves to get by Emma and Sam, thanking them for their hospitality, promising to help with breakfast in the morning.

Emma looks confused, “I’m afraid we haven’t quite figured out how to fit everybody in for the night,” she says apologetically.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I answer, “I told Lizzie she could stay with me, and Cody, Buck and Teaspoon have decided to spend the night entertaining your boys in the bunkhouse. That leaves the guest room open for Lou and Kid,”

“If Lou lets Kid live through the night,” Sam says with a chuckle and Emma elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“Just let me know if you two need anything,” Emma is relieved to have the problem solved, worried about exactly what stories her boys will be full of tomorrow morning. Lizzie nods at both of them shyly and follows me up the stairs.

I don’t know how long I spend just brushing my hair, listening to Kid and Lou continue to argue – silence – and then the sounds of them creeping up the stairs, the other bedroom’s door closing behind them. Lizzie is quiet and I let her be, poor thing is exhausted and she’s asleep almost as soon as she slips into bed. I pull the quilt up over her shoulders for the night is getting chilly. Finally, I climb into bed myself, close my eyes and try to sleep. My body is willing but my mind rebels, running through the events of today and what’s to come tomorrow.

I’m thinking of the dance and Cody. I let him take liberties and I blush a little in the dark thinking of his hand on my face. It’s harmless, I think, just a boyish infatuation.

But that boy is married now with three little girls of his own. The thought troubles me and I’m still thinking on it as I start to drift asleep, feeling the twirl of the dance floor, seeing Cody’s silhouette against lanterns and stars as dreams replace reality.

Then voices outside, hushed but carrying on the still night. My eyes snap open and I creep to the window. If it’s Kid and Lou back to arguing I might have to shoot one of them. But it’s Cody and Buck leaning on the corral fence. I strain to make out what is being said. Buck’s mumble is indistinguishable – but even speaking softly, Cody’s voice is too big.

“It changes everything, Buck, you’re right about that. But in a good way. Trust me, once the baby is born, you’ll want to be responsible. You just have to forge ahead for now and make the best of it and then I swear to you, months from now it will all seem worth it.”

Cody is giving Buck advice? But Buck is reasonable and big-hearted, and Cody is…loud, and usually hungry. I’m halfway down the stairs, wondering how to fix the damage Cody’s done when I realize that his advice wasn’t bad. It was responsible and compassionate and, most surprisingly of all, realistic. What a change from the boy who once advised Ike to use Jimmy’s name when courting, “That way her Pa can take a shotgun to Jimmy ‘stead of you”. When I step outside onto the porch, the two of them are smiling at each other and Cody slaps Buck’s back as they turn towards the bunkhouse.

Cody stops when he sees me. Buck nods in my direction and looks from me to Cody and with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head plods back to the bunkhouse. What’s he thinking, I wonder, and I resist the urge to run after him and beg him to stay and talk with us.

Cody ambles towards me. I take a seat on the porch swing and with a pat of my hand against the seat beside me, call him over. When he sits down, I shiver and pull my shawl tighter. It’s not the temperature, just that I suddenly realize I am sitting alone in my nightgown in the middle of the night beside a married man. We do not speak, we do not look at each other and when Cody moves, I flinch. He looks at me then, his smile sad. I stare back at him, at the weathered lines around his eyes, barely there reminders of his easy smile, the little curved scar at his temple, into his eyes which are blue and full of light – and strength, intelligence, compassion. I gasp as I turn away. There’s a man in there.

When did that happen? Where did the boy go? For years he’s appeared on my doorstep, full of himself, his adventures, starving for food, and I never noticed. I’m still wondering at that – Cody grown up – it seems absurd, when his hand reaches out for mine. I don’t pull away , but I look at him and say sternly, “You’re married”.

He sighs, like a child who knows they need a nap but is willing to fight it. “I know,” he says with determined resignation.

We sit there, the swing barely swaying, our hands together in the space between us, until a horse comes running into the yard. Cody pushes me towards the door, whispers roughly, “Get inside.” I stay where I am and watch as he opens the front door sand silently grabs the rifle Sam keeps just inside. He swing it to his shoulder, jumps off the porch and in front of the horse, shouting, “Just get on down now, real slow, and keep your hands where I can see them.”

As lanterns light up and guns are drawn, a familiar voice comes from the darkness, “Damnit, Cody! It’s only me.”

I Was There

It is rare, in my present state, for me to feel tired; but it has been a long day and sleep, like breathing, is a hard habit to break. Of course, I realized from the beginning that we'd probably bit off more than we could chew. Buck is stubborn and he'd set his mind on never seeing anyone again, so naturally it was going to take some doing to get him here. I expected that to be difficult, and it was. There's only so much I'm willing to do to influence the course of things after all. I do have a way with animals and using that I managed alright. Three months of moving game here and there, making Warrior and Arthur, skittish at key moments, just to get Buck within striking distance. Even at that he was careful to give Sweetwater a wide berth. To actually get them here, I finally had to get Noah to help me out with a nasty storm; he's good with weather, floods mostly.

But who'd have thought that everybody else would cause so much havoc? The plan was to get Buck here, and then sit back and relax a little. We were doing just that when Lou showed up in the bunkhouse. For a second I even thought she'd seen me, and I froze in absolute terror. Just as the living would be startled to see the dead, the dead are squeamish about being seen. It upsets the balance of things. So I was relieved when she turned away finally and went back to her thoughts.

After that, it was sorta difficult to relax again, so Noah and I joined the others for breakfast. Eating isn't something we do much of anymore, but sometimes, a fella just wants to smell bacon and syrup and potatoes. Cody showed up, and Jimmy; and we followed them into town to watch the horse race. I had plans to help them out a little, but Noah said it would be like cheating. That's how he is, always on the straight and narrow, never willing to get into any mischief. When I found out Teaspoon was ticklish (a fact he wisely keeps secret, but there's none of them what have secrets from me now), I used to get up a little wind and find a feather or a straw and go to work on the old coot while he was napping. But Noah shook his head so disapprovingly at that that I finally gave it up. I swear one of these days I'll look over and he'll be there in celestial robes with a little halo over his irritatingly pious head. But I can't complain. He's been a good sport about the mess I got us in now, and it's a doozy, I'll tell you what.

So, no, I didn't help Cody or Jimmy win the race. And despite what Noah might say to the contrary, it was not thanks to me that Cody's horse got frightened at the sight of Mrs. Downing's bright pink petticoat flapping on the clothes line. It might have been my fault that the tent like thing was blowing so wildly. (I can't help it, I have a weakness for women's underthings…they're just too funny to let by. Cody has laughed more than once at what I've done, I tell you what. He was laughing pretty good at the petticoat, in fact, until his horse saw it.)

Then, while Noah was lecturing me on that, we both realized that Lizzie was alone in town. Which meant Buck was still out of town, by himself, and unlikely to suddenly decide to pay a call on Emma and Sam. We had to come up with a plan and quick. Noah went to try and hurry Rachel along so they'd meet up outside the smithy, and I tried to get Lizzie out of there. I saw Noah and Rachel coming down the street, but Lizzie just kept chatting to the blacksmith. They were getting closer and she was still talking and I had to do something.

Now, don't listen to what Noah says. I would never, ever, ever, ever do something like that to Lizzie