Emma jumped in her seat, at the sound of furious pounding at her front door. Laying down her mending, she called, "Keep your shirt on, will you? I'm coming!"

She flung open the door and stood with her hand on her hip, exclaiming, "What is it - - Mr. Tompkins?!?"

Indeed, it was the furious shopkeeper, still wearing his apron under his coat and a powdering of flour over his head. A nasty swelling was rising up on the side of his head. Without waiting to be invited, he pushed past her into the house.

"Can I help you with something?" Emma asked, flabbergasted.

He flung his hat onto a table amid a cloud of flour.

"Yes ma'am," he seethed. "You certainly can. You can pay for the damage Hickok and Cody caused in my shop," he continued, pointing at his head, "including somethin' for pain and suffering from this." His voice rose to a shout, before the pain made him wince.

"Are you tellin' me that one of my riders hit you?" Emma asked, astonished.

"That's exactly what I'm tellin' you. That little runt, Lou, to be exact."

Emma swallowed a laugh, and attempted a frown to cover. "Well. I can see how upset you are, Mr. Tompkins, and I can't blame you a bit. Jimmy and Cody, I have to admit I ain't surprised, but I can't believe Lou was part of this."

"Me neither," Tompkins said. "But that doesn't fix my head or the stuff your riders busted up in my store."

"Mr. Tompkins, the company's barely breakin' even on this station as it is," Emma appealed. "I haven't got money in the budget for settlin' with you about this."

"So that's all you got to say on it? Your riders come in my store actin' like a lot of hooligans and they don't have to answer for it?"

Emma shook her head. "Oh, no, Mr. Tompkins. That wouldn't do at all. I think the boys, especially Lou, need to be punished appropriately. There's no excuse for rabble-rousin', and you're entitled to compensation. And they're the ones who need to do it. But after payin' for their own tack and supplies, and half their board like the company makes 'em, they don't bank all that much pay as it is. Would you be willin' to have them work off their debt?"

Tompkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose that'd be better than nothin'," he allowed. "But I don't need the lot of them hangin' around my store at the same time. Send just one at a time. Two weeks, openin', tendin' counter, stockin' shelves, and closing. That should cover it."

"No. Two days for each of them is more than fair. Cooping those boys up in your store all day is a fate worse than death as far as they're concerned."

"Done," Tompkins said, gleeful at the prospect of having a weeks' worth of free help in the store. "I'll expect them to show up at seven in the morning to help open the store."

"All right, Mr. Tompkins. I'll talk to the boys and have one of them there at seven o'clock tomorrow mornin', fair enough," Emma said, her patience wearing thin. "If that's all, I'll bid you goodnight, as I have a lot of work to do myself."

"Emma, I won't do it!" blustered Jimmy. "Stand behind a counter wearin' an apron like a woman? Takin' orders from any ol' lady who comes in lookin' for liniment for her bunions? I ain't no shopkeeper, dang it!"

"You may not like it, Mr. Hickok, but you will do it. I don't need Mr. Tompkins sendin' a bill for the mess y'all made in that store to the company, I'm already hangin' on by a thread with what they send me to keep your sorry behinds clean and covered and fed. Would you like it if the company decides I can't keep y'all in line and finds somebody else for the job?"

"But Emma, it wasn't our fault," Cody protested. "Tompkins said Buck -"

"I ain't interested, Billy. You had your fun causing a commotion in that store, you can pay for it now. Unless you intend the damages to come outta your food budget."

Emma turned to Lou. "And you. I'm surprised at you, I must say, Lou. Was that the way a proper gentleman acts?"

Lou thought there was a hint of a smile in Emma's eyes, but figured she must be mistaken. "No, ma'am. I guess I got a little carried away, is all," she said gruffly.

"Well, you can figure out how to keep from getting 'carried away' next time, while you're polishin' Tompkins' countertops on your next two days off."

On the sixth day of enforced Express labor, Tompkins looked around the storeroom with satisfaction. He hadn't been able to use Hickok much on the counter, the boy's temper had caused the first three customers to run from the store without buying anything; but Hickok had done an admirable job cleaning and stacking the shipment of inventory received this week. And Cody had turned out to be a born salesman in his two days in the store, especially with the young ladies. They'd sold out the supplies of hat trimmings and furbelows when Cody's flattery took hold.

But the best had been saved for last. Lou was a quiet and able worker, quick with figures. The rider was imaginative with the displays, even the limited variety the store carried, not to mention patient with the customers. Yes, he'd miss having Lou around the store, he thought, coming back into the main room. He watched the slender figure occupied in arranging a shelf of yellow paper-backed romance novels by the entrance by lamplight, for probably the thirtieth time in the last hour. Once dinner hour rolled around, the customers had stopped coming in and the tedium in the store had been hard for even him to endure. Tompkins grinned a little at Lou's obvious longing to pick up a romantic story to relieve the boredom. Now that he'd healed up some from that shellacking she'd given him, and had a chance to get to know her a little better over the last couple days, he had to admit to a grudging respect for the girl rider. Not too many women would be able to hold their own in a fight or in her job like she did. He'd always assumed she just was a rough, man-like creature who disdained normal female pursuits and didn't mind lookin' like a half-grown runt of a man rather than a pretty girl.

Well, two days in the store with her had made him realize how hard it was for her to pretend. The worst had been when the Kid had come in to the store and a gaggle of town gals had breezed in at the same time, flirting gaily with the handsome young man. Only a damn fool would have fallen for her disguise if they'd seen Lou's eyes as she watched from the corner where she was dusting shelves. But then, Tompkins knew from dealin' with folks day after day, most of 'em couldn't be bothered to really look and see what was in front of their faces.

Finally replacing the last book with a covetous look, Lou stared out the window and sighed softly. Waiting on folks and standing around inside had been wearin' on her nerves, she wondered how a body could stand it day in and day out like Tompkins did. It felt like a week, not two days, she thought wearily. Give me a fast horse and an open road over this any day.

Whittling in the corner, Tompkins called her over.

"Listen, Lou, you done a nice job in here today. It's Saturday night, we won't get nobody else in here tonight. I figure I can handle things from here out. Go on home," Tompkins said, suddenly taking pity on her. He had been thinking how if Jenny had lived, she'd be about Lou's age now. Though for whatever reason Lou seemed to have most folks fooled, and nobody was likely to tamper with her, he'd feel better just the same if she got herself home safe, now that the saloons and the brothel were open for the night crowd.

"Thanks, Mr. Tompkins," Lou said wonderingly, picking up the paper-backed book whose cover had tempted her the most, the long two days in the store. "For Emma," she explained lamely, placing it on the counter. Tompkins pretended to believe it, though he figured sensible Emma would rather use the book to line a birdcage than read such silly romantic drivel. Lou sheepishly paid the dime for the novel and nodded gruffly, shoving the booklet in her vest pocket.

As he watched her leave the store at a half-run and leap on her horse outside, galloping away, Tompkins looked around the small room that he spent most of his time in, catering to other people day in and day out. Laying down his whittling, he dusted the counter for the hundredth time that day, sighing now that the stillness and sameness was settling down again. Most times he didn't think much on it, but every once in a while, when the customers were scarce and the hours dragged, the thought crossed his mind, how there was a big, open world out there, and he'd spent most of his life inside four cramped walls, making change and moving around cans of beans and other pointless, never-finished work. Much as he hated to admit it, he was jealous sometimes; those boys - and girl - were really livin', had the courage it takes for it - and after all was said and done, he was the trapped one.

The door swung open and Lou glanced around the bunkhouse, wondering where on earth everybody was. She saw a letter resting on the table, and picked it up.

"Everyone's out. Come over to Rachel's when you're ready for dinner. Love, K."

She smiled and put the letter to her lips for a moment. Kneeling at her trunk, she carefully slipped the note into the packet of letters from her darling Kid, lovingly tying the red ribbon back around them. She pulled her best dress from the trunk, twirling around the room excitedly before changing quickly and heading out the door.

She tapped on the door of Rachel's house and, when there was no answer, opened it and poked her head in. "Kid?" she called uncertainly. Coming in, she saw that there was a fire in the fireplace, and the table in front of it set for two, with candles ready to be lit. She shut the door softly and tiptoed to the kitchen, opening the door a crack to take a peek.

She smiled tenderly at the sight of Kid, in his best clothes with the sleeves rolled up and an apron on over his neat white shirt and vest. His black Sunday suit jacket was hung out of harm's reach, and he was focused with nearly cross-eyed intensity on what looked like an elaborate dinner for her. He tested a spoonful and jumped back, a dishcloth held to his scalded mouth.

"You okay, Kid?" Lou blurted, coming through the door and rushing to him.

"Let me see it," she ordered, gently pulling his hand away from his mouth and examining him.

"It's not so bad," he said, chuckling.

"Remember to blow on it first next time," she whispered huskily, running a hand down the side of his face to his lip, and tilting his head down.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, looking into her eyes.

"Now let me make it all better," she murmured, drawing his head down to kiss him, as the pot boiled over unheeded behind them.

Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies

August 1862

"So this is it, home, Lou," he said, pointing. "Doesn't look like much yet, but with the five of us working at it, we'll make something of these one hundred-sixty acres Uncle Sam's seen fit to give us."

Lou smiled at her husband. "You certainly like saying that number."

"Never thought I'd be a landowner when I was growing up. Figured I'd always work for another man."

She rubbed Kid's arm. "I know, it's a dream come true for me too, for different reasons," she mused, glancing back at the covered wagon, where Jeremiah and Teaspoon were unloading boxes while Teresa looked on. "Having a family again . . ."

"Hey, no crying today," Kidd teased. He swept her up in his arms and carried her over the framed-out threshold, as the rest of their family looked on indulgently. "When I get the walls and roof on, I'll carry you in again, but for now this'll have to do," he whispered in her ear.

Teaspoon stepped into the house frame, followed by Teresa and Jeremiah, each carefully passing single file through the doorframe, as if the walls were already there, Lou noted with amusement. Teaspoon set down a box of nails.

"Figure in a couple days we'll have enough done on the house for all of us to take shelter from this dad-blamed heat," Teaspoon remarked, mopping his brow and taking a drink from a canteen Teresa handed him.

"There's a lot to do," Kid sighed, setting Lou down. "Crops to plan, trees to set out, well to dig," he started ticking off.

Fifteen-year-old Jeremiah rolled up his sleeves. "Let's get to working and stop jawing, then. You two gals rustle up some grub, we're going to get pretty hungry from this work."

Lou shook her head, laughing. "Only reason I'm not going to be up on that roof today shingling right along with you is I'm too big to get on a ladder," she told him indignantly. "And don't you forget it, Jeremiah McLeod."

She turned, rubbing her distended belly slightly, and waddled toward the wagon, Teresa by her side.

"Let's get the walls up, that'll take no time, then we can work on the shingling," Kid suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

Teaspoon and Kid worked together as well as always, like parts of a machine, and steadily the walls materialized around the house.

"Heard from Jimmy," Teaspoon said off-handedly as he drove a nail. He placed the next one, and glanced over at Kid.

Kid was silent, his face turned away from Teaspoon's as he bent to pick up more nails, holding them in his mouth.

"He asked about you, what you were doing."

Kid drove a nail with a single, abrupt slam of his hammer. "Probably asked about Lou, you mean."

"Letter asked about both of y'all. I wrote back telling him you'd applied for a homestead out here. About the baby that's comin'. Hope that wasn't talkin' out of turn."

"No, of course not."

Teaspoon kept working steadily. "This feud that's been brewing between you and him ever since Noah died, Kid -"

"There's no feud between him and me," Kid contradicted. "There's nothing between him and me, in fact."

Teaspoon paused a second and looked at Kid's stubborn profile, then placed yet another nail. "He was wounded pretty bad at Mechanicsville. They had to amputate his left arm. Course, he's been discharged from the Army, and he don't sound like no 'Wild Bill' right now in his letter. "

The hammer in Kid's hand paused a moment, but Teaspoon acted like he didn't notice.

"Celinda and her family went underground somewheres and he don't know where they are. That business with Rosemary didn't last, and you know Cody's in the Army and Buck's back with the Kiowa, a'course. So he let me know he'd be stayin' at a soldier's poor house until he can find work."

The hammer dropped beside Kid's thigh.

"You'd better keep hammerin' there Kid, if we want to get this house sided today. Don't know why y'all decided to make the thing so durned big, the law says ya only need it to be twelve by fourteen to prove up. Y'know that law don't say if that's in feet or inches - I hear tell that -"

"Tell him to come here."

Teaspoon craned his head and arched an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"If he needs shelter, we'll have it by the time he can get himself here," Kid said gruffly. "If he'll even come, that is."

"Oh, he'll come," Teaspoon said, delightedly. "I already asked him afore we left, and got his answer the day we packed the wagon to come here."

Kid dropped the hammer in the tool box and turned furiously to Teaspoon. "You did what? When's he getting here?"

"Probably another week or two. We should have this finished way before then."

Kid leaned an arm against the newly sided portion of the house. "I know this is your home too, Teaspoon, and you got a right to invite guests. But you know me and Jimmy ain't spoken a word to each other since Ike's funeral. What if I hadn't wanted him to come? Mighta been a mite awkward around the ol' homestead, don't you think?"

"I knew you'd want him to come when you heard." Teaspoon looked Kid in the eye. "You and him were too good of friends for either of ya not to be there when the other's in need, no matter what."

The younger man's gaze dropped, and he bit his lip and nodded, picking up the hammer and continuing his work without another word about it.

A little story about Kid's real name and family history . . .

After someone dies, there's the task of going through his things. Holding the personal items that had been in your loved one's hands in life has a strange and bittersweet effect on most folks. Picking up the hairbrush or comb with a few strands of the familiar hair in it, a piece of that person connecting you to the departed one, but also sending a pang by reminding you all over again that he's gone from you forever. Reading the unfinished letters or journals, gives some insight that maybe you never had into his heart while he was still there, reminds you, gives you concrete proof that yes, this person existed, even though the world will go about its usual business without him and forget him before long. You put those special things away in a box and keep them, since it's all you have now and you don't want to forget along with the rest of the world. Kid knew the routine well enough. He'd done it for his mother at age fifteen, and now he carried in his pocket always a small key she'd worn on a ribbon around her neck, for what reason he never knew. It was enough that it was the one thing he'd always seen her wear, every day of her life. Sometimes he would put a hand in his jacket pocket and touch it as a talisman of sorts, though, he reflected, it hadn't given his mother much good luck.

Now he was performing the same task for his older brother, who had come into his life again only to vanish, this time forever. Though he hadn't seen Jed in so long, he missed him now all the more. Before, he had the hope that maybe he would see Jed again, though it wasn't likely. Now . . .

Kid sighed and turned to Jed's trunk. Opening it, he rifled through the contents. He was reluctant to read much of Jed's personal correspondence right now, but he did glance at some of it idly.

The door opened and Jimmy and Lou entered. Seeing what their friend was doing, their faces sobered.

"Kid, I know I already said it, but I'm really sorry I had to -"

"I know, Jimmy."

Jimmy stood fiddling with his gunbelt a moment before finally nodding and backing out the bunkhouse door again.

"He feels pretty lousy, Kid," Lou said softly after the door shut.

"I'll go tell him again there's no hard feelings in a bit."

Lou looked curiously over Kid's shoulder at the array of small items. "Jed had a lot of stuff," she remarked, sitting down and picking up a small leather-bound book of pictures. "Mind if I take a peek?"

Kid shrugged.

Lou flipped to the first picture, a tintype of a lovely woman and two boys. She smiled and glanced at Kid. "Your mother?" she asked softly. At his nod, she studied the picture again. The woman was careworn but beautiful, with kind eyes. "Wish I had a picture of my ma," she said wistfully. "She looks really nice."

"She was more than nice." Kid tilted the picture so they could both look at it. "She was the hardest-working woman I ever met. Well, until you," he amended, smiling at her and nudging her shoulder with his.

"Where's your pa?"

"He left before that. Ma had to take care of both of us, and she did a fine job, too."

"I'm sure she did." Lou flipped to the next picture. She frowned, looking it over. "This is your mother, but who's this older man?"

Kid smiled, broadly. "That's my great-grandpa. He sure had some great stories."

"Like what?"

He blushed. "Some of them are pretty tall tales, I'm afraid. And my name comes from one of 'em."

"Oh, really? Well, that's a story I'd love to hear."

He shook his head. "Forget it; I'm sorry I brought it up."

"Come on! Don't drop a little tidbit like that and then leave me hanging. I promise, I won't tell any of the boys." She turned pleading eyes and fluttering eyelashes on him, and despite his reluctance, he couldn't resist.

"Okay, since you promised. It has to do with my first name. It's . . . it was Jed's middle name. Every boy born in our family has the name, either as a first name or a middle name, going back to the 1700's, so great-grandpa said."

"So, what is it?"

"You already know it," he grinned.

She stared at him, and then slowly realized; "You mean Kid?"

"Sure. It's spelled K-I-D-D, though. The second D is silent," he joked.

She slapped him in the arm, her hand lingering down to the crook of his elbow. She often playfully slapped or lightly punched him; it was a socially acceptable way of touching him, even when the boys were there, but when they were alone, these gestures sometimes strayed into tenderness. He met her eyes, and they looked blushingly away after a moment.

"It's after a famous relative, or so the family legend goes."

She looked puzzled, then met his dancing eyes. "Not - not Captain Kidd," she gasped, astonished.

"The same. Supposedly I'm his great-great-great-grandson. My mother certainly believed it. I have no idea if it's true."

"And your last name?"

"That you'll never get out of me. It makes 'Kidd' look normal by comparison," he grimaced.

She smiled. "So I guess I should call you 'Captain' from now on."

"First time you do in front of the boys, I'll call you 'Miss McCloud'," he laughed back.

"All right, all right."

Kid felt around in the stuffed saddlebag again and touched a small box-shaped parcel tied up in leather. Drawing it out, he set it on the table and carefully untied the string around it. Slipping off the leather pouch, he revealed a flat tin.

"Wonder what this is."

"Looks pretty old, Cap'n."

Kid rolled his eyes at her and lifted the lid off the tin.

"Kid - that's - that's a treasure map," Lou blurted, excitedly.

"Hold your horses, Lou. It's a map, sure," Kid laughed. "And a pretty old one, looks like, but . . ."

"It must be a treasure map from Captain Kidd. Everybody knows he buried a treasure someplace back east." She thought back to her schooling days and tried to remember the story.

"That's just a lot of tall tales, Lou. But this map is a treasure in itself, if it's as old as it looks," Kid said, looking at it interestedly.

"Kid, there's a big 'X' mark right there! Of course it's a treasure map. We just have to figure out where it's to, and -"

"Avast there, now, matey. What's all this 'we' stuff?" Kid teased. "You're lucky I don't do you in to keep my pirate booty all for myself." He chuckled and carefully wrapped up the map again.

"Quit fooling around, will you? That's a treasure map. Don't tell me you're just going to let it sit there gatherin' dust and not try to find it."

"Folks have been looking for Captain Kidd's treasure for a hundred and fifty years, Lou. If there ever was a treasure, I'm sure it's long gone."

"But they didn't have a map," Lou pointed out, insistently.

Kid shrugged, putting the box back in the saddlebag and then in his trunk. "Lou, I have a good job, finally, after practically starving for the last three years. I have no intention of quitting that to tear across the country looking for buried treasure. Besides, it's ill-gotten gains anyway."

"Well, who cares?" Lou exploded. "The folks that stuff got stolen from are long dead anyway."

"It's still not right to profit from it," Kid said piously.

"Oh, for the love of -"

"The subject is closed, Lou."

Kid got up from the trunk, locking it, and headed to the door. "You coming?"

"Fine," she said sullenly. "Treasure's thrown away on you, I see."

"That's the spirit."

That night, Lou tossed and turned on her bunk above Kid's. She kept thinking about her brother and sister back at the orphanage. Kept calculating how long it would take her to save the money to go get them. Wondering how many doubloons it would cost to get a good horse ranch.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She got up and shook Kid awake.

"Lou - wha -"

"I can't stand it, Kid. You have to get that map out and show it to Teaspoon."

"Lou, it's the middle of the night, what on earth-"

"Please, Kid. It's torturing me."

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, irritably. "You didn't even know about the map until a few hours ago. You're no worse off than you were before you did. Why -"

"Never mind that," she hissed. "Get the map out and let's show it to Teaspoon. He's the oldest person I know that you can trust. If he thinks it's real, and you don't wanna go look for the treasure, give the map to me and let me look. I promise to split whatever I find fifty-fifty with you."

"Are you joking?" Kid chuckled. At her intent look, he subsided. "All right, but can't it wait until morning?"

"No, it can't. Teaspoon's light is on in the tack room anyway. Get up and let's get over there."

He sighed. "If it's the only way to get you to leave me in peace, then fine," he muttered. "Let's go."

Teaspoon adjusted his glasses on his nose and looked over the map with interest. "It's mighty old-looking, Kid, but I can't be sure it's a hundred and sixty years old." He glanced up at them. "I'd say Kid's right. I doubt it's gonna lead to treasure. Even if this map's been handed down in his family from Cap'n Kidd, I gotta believe there weren't no treasure there or somebody in Kid's family woulda found it already."

"Maybe they all were like him and never tried," Lou said pointedly. "So the map looks old, then?"

"Far as I can tell. Old style spellin' and writin'. Faded paper. This tin it came in looks plenty old too." He looked in the corner. "This is an odd thing. Looks like a rubbing of an ol' funny shaped key."

Kid started at that, and after a moment, put his hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out his mother's key on its sky-blue ribbon.

Placing it on the map, he looked up at the others' astonished eyes. "It matches," Kid said, his eyes shining with excitement at last.

"Now, Kid, don't get too excited about -"

"Teaspoon, it's obvious. This is the key to a treasure chest, a pirate treasure chest," Kid babbled. "All we have to do is find out where these islands on this map are."

Teaspoon squinted at the map again, and shook his head. "'Fraid that's out of my area of expertise," he mused. "Been a prospector, a railroad-man, a marshal and an outlaw . . . but never a sailor. Never heard tell of any of these here islands. Couldn't even tell you if they was in the Atlantic or the Pacific. Or somewhere else, for that matter."

"You know anybody else you can trust who might be able to, Teaspoon?" Lou asked anxiously.

"Son, I can think of jest the fella. My old friend Captain Zeke Barry. I'll take you to see him tomorrow."

Kid thanked Teaspoon and got up to go back to the bunkhouse. As he opened the door, Teaspoon, setting his glasses on his head, called after him. "Kid?"

"Yes, Teaspoon."

"Word of advice. Don't quit your day job jest yet."

Kid smiled and nodded, and he and Lou started back to the bunkhouse.

"So, you don't want any part of ill-gotten gains, eh, Kid?" Lou mocked.

He blushed. "Well, Grandpa Kidd always said the ol' captain was really more of a privateer than a pirate. He just rubbed the wrong people the wrong way, that's how come he ended up . . . well . . . "

"Hanging in a cage over the Thames, wasn't it? Tell me, what's the difference between a privateer and a pirate, anyway?"

"I'd expect a question like that from a landlubber like you. But if this map turns out for real, we'll be sailing for adventure before long."

Lou blushed a little, looking away.

"Lou? I didn't mean to speak outta turn. You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she murmured back, stretching up to kiss him shyly.

September 1862

The *prairie* stretched out as far as the eye could see on all sides of the large wooden house, without a sign of a neighbor in any direction. The young man walked from the barn, slipping a pair of *chains* over the door, and the older one laughed. "Kid, you do beat all. You expect a gang o' bandits to *slip* up on us outta nowhere and steal our stock?" He gestured around. "We'd see 'em comin' about two hours afore they got here."

"Can't be too careful," Kid said, worriedly. "If anything happens to the horses, we'd be caught out here too far to go for help if - well, if anybody needs it," he finished, watching his wife bending over a basket of laundry and lifting out a wet sheet to hang on the line.

"What are you doing?" he blurted, striding over angrily. "How'd you get that heavy basket over here?"

"Jeremiah carried it for me," she said wearily. "I promised you no more heavy lifting and I'm keeping my word." She leaned suddenly against the line, holding her belly.

"What is it? Are you in pain?"

"Just tired, and it's so heavy," she whispered, her lips pale. Kid passed an arm around her shoulders and helped her to the front step. As she sank down on it, he surveyed her. Her small arms and legs were unchanged, but her belly was so distended it reached to her knees when she sat down.

"I expect it is," he said kindly, sitting next to her and rubbing her belly softly. "I think it's about time we loaded up the wagon and headed back east. It can't be much longer, and you'll need a woman's help when the time comes. I've delivered my share of farm animals, but I'd like to get going so we can have a midwife for this delivery."

"I think maybe we should," she said feebly, leaning against him. The lack of fight in her worried him, and he looked up at Teaspoon. "You mind helping Lou inside, while I go get the wagon ready?"

"I'll put the cover on the wagon, you help your wife in," Teaspoon advised, and Kid nodded, picking her up carefully.

"I wanted to be here when Jimmy got here," she murmured, ruefully, while Kid carried her into the makeshift bedroom on the first floor of the house, and laid her down.

"He'll be here when you get back," Kid pointed out. "And he'll get to meet our little one too then." He stroked her face, and she smiled and nodded.

"Now then, what'll you be needing on this trip?" he asked briskly, getting up and opening the trunk at the foot of the bed.

He turned and opened the top drawer of the dresser he and Teaspoon had made for the room. "I guess a couple changes of clothes, right?"

"Kid?"

"Mm-hm?"

"I don't feel so great," she mumbled, grimacing.

"I know, sweetheart, we'll take it slow on the road --"

"No. I mean I really don't feel well," she whispered, sitting up with difficulty. "My back's been aching for two days and it's getting worse."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, flinging her nightgowns into the trunk and coming to sit beside her. "You're going to have a hell of a ride in the wagon with a sore back," he worried. "But don't worry, I'll take the mattress off the bed and put it in the wagon for you."

"I don't think so," she moaned, tears in her eyes. "It hurts so much," she whimpered, before gasping suddenly.

"What is it?" he asked her, frightened.

"My water just broke," she panted, holding onto him, and he looked around frantically, as if somebody might be nearby who could change this extremely inconvenient truth . . . and seeing only little Theresa, blurted, "Get Teapoon, Theresa!"

The little girl dropped the bucket of milk she had been carrying in from the barn, and it spread in a thick puddle across the floor, as she ran from the room.

As the day wore on, the heat became oppressive, and Lou was soon bathed in sweat from her labors and the deadly *prairie* heat. Teaspoon lingered just outside the open door with Jeremiah as Kid and Theresa did what little they could to help her, fanning her and mopping at her with cloths until she swatted them away, irritably.

"How long you reckon it'll take, Teaspoon?"

"Could be another day yet, son," Teaspoon sighed. "First babies got a way of taking their time."

"Rider comin'," Jeremiah observed, nodding toward the horizon.

Sure enough, a palomino stallion was riding toward them, a figure clad in Union blue lurching in the saddle.

"Fella's a greenhorn, looks like," Jeremiah scoffed. "Barely stayin' on the horse."

Teaspoon set his hat back on his head and peered more closely. The rider was too far away to see his face, but the empty sleeve fluttering beside him confirmed Teaspoon's suspicions. "That's Jimmy Hickok," he said, a smile forming on his face.

He leaned in to the doorway, keeping his face averted from the suffering woman in the bed. "Jimmy's ridin' up," he said.

Lou sat up slightly but then fell against the bed again with a soft cry.

Teaspoon turned back toward the oncoming rider, and took off his hat to wave a greeting. Jimmy's horse trotted up to the front of the house, and Teaspoon sauntered over.

"It's damn good to see you, son," he said. "Need a little help getting down?"

Jimmy's eyes were haunted, hollow, and Teaspoon was a little discomfited when the young man nodded in acceptance of the help. He had half-expected an irritable rebuff, but reached up and steadied Jimmy as he dismounted, then embraced him. Jimmy nodded a hello at a skeptical looking Jeremiah, and lapsed into silence.

"Have a good trip?" Teaspoon ventured, reaching up to untie Jimmy's saddle bag from the horse. "Take Jimmy's horse, will ya, Jeremiah?"

As Jeremiah led the horse away, Jimmy shrugged, reaching across to tuck his flapping empty sleeve into his pocket. "Okay, I guess. Just glad to be here." He squinted past Teaspoon to the house. "Where's Lou and Kid?"

"They're a mite busy right now, you could say," Teaspoon said. "She's having the baby."

"All the way out here?"

"Well, the baby doesn't seem to know it's not a convenient time or place," Teaspoon sighed. "It's bound and determined to come here and now."

"How's she doing?" Jimmy asked, concerned.

"Well as can be expected. Don't worry too much, Jimmy. Ladies been doing this since the beginning of time, she'll get through it. But if you got anything in here that'll take away some of the pain, it would be a mercy."

Jimmy nodded. "There's some bottles in the outside pocket. Give her one of the tablets in there, she won't feel a thing in a few minutes."

Teaspoon rifled through the pocket and saw it was filled to the brim with bottles of opium tablets. He paused and his eyes flickered to Jimmy, worried. "That's a lot of medicine," he said, pulling one out.

"You ever get your arm shot off, Teaspoon? Cause it's pretty damn painful," Jimmy snapped back. He was longing for a taste himself, he was getting the sweats since it'd been a little longer than usual since his last dose.

He impatiently held out his hand, and Teaspoon placed a bottle in it.

"Lemme see her," he said, walking toward the door and stopping to tap on it with the bottle.

"Hear there's a lady havin' a baby in here," he called. "Can I come in?"

"Jimmy?" came a weak voice from inside, and Jimmy bit his lip on hearing the voice that had haunted his dreams the last two years.

"Sure is, darlin', at least what's left of me. I have a little medicine here if you're interested."

"Just get in here, will you?" she called.

He smiled and pushed aside the cloth curtain to the area that served as Lou and Kid's bedroom.

Lou's nightgown was soaked to the skin, and her face was pale and drawn with pain, but she managed a small smile at the sight of him. He'd seen a lot of pain and suffering in the last year, but nonetheless his heart went out to her in her distress.

"You're havin' a pretty bad time, huh, Lou? Maybe this'll help," he whispered, shaking a tablet from the bottle onto Kid's hand. Jimmy slipped another one into his mouth as Kid and Theresa scrambled for a glass of water for Lou.

Lou took the tablet with the water, and soon enough, her eyes glossed over. "That's much better," she sighed, "just what the doctor ordered. Thank you, Jimmy," she said, pressing his hand as he sat beside her.

Kid's face was gray and exhausted looking, and Jimmy glanced at him with sympathy. "Reckon you'd like one of these yourself," he remarked.

"He doesn't deserve any," Lou slurred. "This is all his damn fault. Him and his big ideas." She sat up, squeezing Jimmy's hand as a contraction came over her, and she bore down with all her strength. After a minute, she relaxed and released his hand.

"Lou, you'd better take it easy on my one good hand," Jimmy joked, stroking her damp hair. "You want some more medicine?"

She shook her head, her eyes shut. "That tablet took the edge off, Jimmy, but I'd better not take too much. You can get to needing it all the time if you're not careful, I hear."

"So I hear," Jimmy said evasively. "Don't reckon you'll get hooked with two tablets, but if you can handle the pain without it, you're probably right."

"Kid," Lou cried out as the next contraction started building. "Kid, please," she begged, and the frantic husband came across the bed and sat next to her. She gripped both his hands, and leaned her head against his shoulder, and Kid bent his head against hers.

As she bore down, the nightgown slipped from her knees to her waist and Jimmy saw the baby's head crowning.

"Kid? Think you'd better get over on this end," he said, getting up and standing out of the way by the door.

"The baby's right here, honey," Kid said, his voice shaking but reassuring. "I'll try to be gentle . . ." He bent over his wife and Jimmy watched, transfixed, as Kid delivered his own baby boy, and then lifted the baby to his mother's breast.

He knew his presence was temporarily forgotten as he stood watching the little family. One of Kid's hands had slipped around Lou's shoulders, and the other was stroking the baby's downy head. Jimmy clenched his own remaining hand into a ball; tearing his eyes away from Kid's hands holding Lou and their baby, Jimmy slipped around the bed, quietly congratulating the new parents, and went out on the steps.

"It's a boy," he announced, sitting down tiredly. "The little mother seems fine, and even Kid looks like he'll recover, eventually."

"Praise be," Teaspoon sighed.

Kid came out on the steps few minutes later and beckoned them all in to see the new baby, dozing contentedly in his mother's arms.

"Meet Aloysius McLeod," Lou mumbled, her eyes half shut.

"He's perfect," Theresa breathed, picking up a tiny hand and gazing at it. Jimmy's eyes lowered.

"I'm so glad we're all here together to meet him," Lou whispered. She smiled at all of them happily, and her eyelids closed peacefully.

Jimmy held out his hand to Kid. "Guess we didn't get a chance to say hello before, Dad," he said. "Congratulations."

Kid shook Jimmy's hand. "Thanks."

"And . . . thanks for -"

"Jimmy, no need for thanks. We're family," Kid interrupted. "Want to hold him?"

Jimmy nervously was about to protest, but Kid was coming toward him with the newborn and before he quite knew what was happening, the little cherub was sleeping in the crook of his lone arm. "Well, hello, little fella," he murmured, noticing the little one had traces of both parents in his tiny face already, including a stubborn lower lip that could have come from either of the two.

"You'll be a handful, looks like," he told the little fellow, bending to press a kiss on the baby's forehead, before Teaspoon demanded his turn to hold his namesake. A moment later, Teaspoon returned the baby to his father, watching with disapproval as Jimmy downed another tablet. He headed to the corner and cleared his throat, speaking quietly to him. "Jimmy, don't you think you oughtta be takin' it a little easier on that stuff?" he asked, his voice low. "I'd think the pain in yer arm'd be getting a little better by now, you wouldn't need -"

"That's where you're wrong, Teaspoon. I know they cut off my arm, but I can still feel it . . . it still hurts even though they cut it off," Jimmy explained. "Sometimes things are like that." He looked longingly at Lou for a long moment; at Kid holding his son in two strong, capable arms. "Sometimes seems like you don't ever stop missin' what you've lost." Author's Note: Thanks to Mercy, Paola and Hanny, my Livejournal pals, for your encouragement and request for more about this story!

The tall prairie grass rustled around them, songbirds and crows erupting from their path and flying overhead with rustling wings as they proceeded. The scent of wildflowers was still strong in the air despite the approach of autumn, and Kid inhaled the clean, fresh air deeply.

“Jimmy, you oughtta look for a quarter section around here yourself. Teaspoon and I’ll help ya put up a shanty and you’ll be all set. Come January we’ll be able to file our claims, then all we have to do is-“

“Stay here five years, prove up the claims, I know. Not sure I was cut out for farmin’ even before this happened,” Jimmy said, looking down at where his missing arm should be. “Now, I really don’t know. That’d be a lotta work for a man with one arm. And I ain’t got a stake for equipment or seed or nothin’.”

“You know what’s ours is yours, Jimmy.”

Jimmy shifted impatiently on his horse. “I reckon I’ve leeched enough off you folks as it is, without borrowin’ your plow and your oxen and part’a your spring seed, Kid. You and Teaspoon and Lou worked hard to save all the money to start your claim. It wouldn’t be right to do that, especially since I ain’t no farmer and wouldn’t make a go of it anyhow.”

Kid was about to reply when Jimmy pulled up on Sundancer’s reins.

“What in tarnation is that supposed to be?” Jimmy asked, pointing at a small structure in front of them, a dugout in a hill out of the earth, with the wild prairie grass and flowers growing *atop* it. It was invisible from a distance, as if part of the prairie until one rode right up on top of it. “First time I’ve seen grass growin’ on top of a house instead of in front of it,” Jimmy said, astonished.

Kid shrugged. “Actually, Jimmy, most of the houses out here are soddies like that, or shanties, not real houses like Teaspoon and I were able to build. A lotta folks out here barely had enough to make the trip and set up for a spring plantin’. In time, though, they’ll make it. You can’t have drive and grit like that and not make a success for yourself, I reckon.”

Jimmy flushed with slight annoyance at the implication, but a *hoarse* cry from behind them interrupted him.

“Don’t know what the hell are you two doin’ on my claim, but if’n you wanta keep your other arm, Mister, you’ll move on *triple*-quick and never show your worthless hide around here again!”

The click of a rifle behind them told them the woman meant business. Glancing at each other, Jimmy and Kid put their hands over their heads.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we ain’t here to jump your claim,” Kid said calmly. “In fact, we’re neighbors, if you call it that. I got the section next to this one.”

The woman came around the front of their horses and Jimmy’s eyes bulged. The bonneted *spitfire* was six feet tall if she was an inch. The sleeves of her white and lavender calico were pushed up around her elbows, and the arms gripping the rifle pointed at them were muscled. A white-blonde braid reached down her back and her eyes blazed at them, cobalt blue, under drawn brows.

“Then you oughtta stay on your section, I figure,” she said evenly, “and we’ll get on just fine. Now get! My husband'll skin you two alive if'n he catches you here!"”

“Fair enough, ma’am. Your husband out workin’ the fields, then?” Kid asked. “I don’t blame you for not wantin’ strange men on your place when he’s busy. You and him might stop by and visit me and my fam’ly over-”

“Keep your hands where I can see em!” the woman shrieked.

“Yes, ma’am. Well, my name’s Kid, this here’s Jimmy Hickok. We got seven at our place. If you change your mind, come on over anytime, I think you and my wife Louise would get on fine,” Kid said, unruffled. He picked up his reins and nodded to her. “And I think you’ll find come winter that you might have a hankerin’ for some company.”

“My husband’s company enough,” she said firmly.

“You got a name?” Jimmy asked irritably, as Kid turned Katy to leave.

“Mrs. Jorgensen,” she spat out. "And I told you to get!"

“Getting, ma’am,” Kid said amiably. “But my offer stands, and if your husband can’t make it you come on over and visit Louise any time, she’d like a woman’s company, I’m sure.”

The woman’s eyes wavered a moment, and she nodded jerkily. “We’ll see,” she muttered.

Kid smiled and waved, driving his heels into the mare and heading back toward home, Jimmy following on Sundancer.

“Don’t envy that husband of hers,” Jimmy grumbled. “He’s probably a giant of a man, judging from the looks of that. He’d have to be.”

“Maybe he was,” Kid remarked.

“Was?”

“There ain’t no husband,” Kid said. “I been over this part of land before, getting the lay of the land. I saw her tilling the fields herself.”

“That don’t mean-“

“And I saw a graveyard at the edge of her place. She’s got a fresh grave dug there. I’m bettin’ the husband’s. I didn't say nothin' cause she's spooked enough as it is. Feel kinda sorry for her.”

Jimmy snorted. “She probably killed him with her own bare hands.”

“Who knows. All I know is it’s a hard life out here as it is, a lone woman’s gotta have it tough, worrying about Indians and claim jumpers. And the winter’s coming. Can’t imagine being stuck out here alone all winter.”

“That’s her choice, if’n she is, Kid.”

“Yes. I suppose if a body’s determined to shut life out, then there ain’t nothing to do about it. But I intend to keep offering help just in case.”

Jimmy glared at Kid, fully catching the double meaning in his words, then glanced back at the lonely woman behind them, still standing with her gun pointed and fear shimmering in what Jimmy recalled were rather lovely deep blue eyes . . .