Author's Note: All the lyrics quoted in this story are from Dave Dobbyn's wonderful album Available Light and each of the sections have taken their titles from one of his songs. I hope you enjoy his beautiful words as much as I do.
Part One:
And you will lose everything
Chapter One
i'm with you now to wash your pain away
Coleyville, Colorado Territory - September, 1865
She could feel him in the doorway before she saw or heard him. Although she knew a tightening in her shoulders had probably given her away under his watchful gaze, she continued to pretend she wasn't aware of his presence. Dropping the wet dish rag on the bench she started towards the door to the hallway, testing his resolve.
"Katie."
Stopping with her hand on the doorknob she turned slightly to look at him. The dim light in the kitchen cast a washed out glow across his features as he stood framed by the darkness behind him. He looked weary and a lot older than he was. His jaw firmly set and his stance painfully alert. Ready. Waiting. The crisp, biting air of the early fall night pushed its way in behind him.
"You're here late," he said simply when she didn't respond.
"I was on my own tonight. Joe couldn't leave Esther to come to work."
"'Course. We caught the guy not far out of town."
"Think he'll hang?"
He nodded. "I'll pay Joe a visit in the mornin'. Will Esther be alright?"
"Doc thinks her body will mend." It was the best answer she could give.
They were both silent for a while. The frigid breeze continued to hustle the warmth from the kitchen. The last of the restaurant's customers had left long ago and now the only sounds in the building were the ghosts of noises from the street. He was looking down at his feet, bowing under the weight either of the world on his shoulders or of the badge on his chest.
"Bill…"
His head snapped up as the name left her lips, jolting him back into reality. "I don't have long."
In acknowledgement of his words, she took a step towards him and he closed the remaining gap in a few quick strides. She reached her arms around his shoulders and, as he leant down and pressed his forehead and nose against hers, he let out a deep ragged breath. The same urgency was there as always, their kisses desperate and their hands demanding, their mutual need pushing them together. His hands pulled recklessly at her skirts while the weight of his body pushed her sharply back against the bench. That's the way life felt, now, she thought as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the worktop, her fist grasping the hair at the back of his neck; none of them seemed to have long anymore.
Jimmy stepped through the front door of the boarding house onto the boardwalk and pulled the collar of his jacket tighter around this neck. Only late September and yet the wind was bitter. Summer had come to a sudden halt and the whole town, after an initial period of disbelief, had started buckling down and preparing for a long, hard winter.
It would be Jimmy's first winter in the mining town of Coleyville and the hardened souls who'd spent a few up here in the mountains, working their claims diligently and constantly praying for that dream strike, had told him just what to expect. Despite their stories, however, Jimmy felt more at ease in this weather. Bleak and dreary were a good match for both his mood and his occupation - summer's sun and blue skies always felt incompatible with wanted posters, card games and dead men lying in the street. He shuddered and picked up his pace.
Two young boys slipped past him as he continued on to the jail, scurrying towards the chaotic jumble of tents which were pitched in the mud at the end of the street. The tents were home to a worryingly large number of new 'residents', all of whom had been drawn by the lure of wealth and adventure. Wondering just how confident and enthusiastic the newcomers would be after a winter spent sheltering in a canvas tent, Jimmy looked the two boys over and sighed. They were both rugged up as best they could in too-small clothing, scrawny ankles and wrists exposed to the chill.
"Mornin' Marshal," uttered the elder, with a fleeting hint of a smile.
Like summer, children were also incongruous with this life, Jimmy thought. The majority of this town's rough and ready population were men; tired and skeptical, made desperate by luck's capricious attention. Women and children were out of place here - too soft, too open for this sharp, grey world. Bound to get hurt. And dangerous, too, the women. It was too easy to let your guard down in response to a compassionate soul and a warm, welcoming body. The fella standing in the street and calling your name with a hand on his gun ain't gonna care if you're good at heart, if you used to be better than this. He's gonna kill you if you don't get there first.
Pushing open the door to the gloomy and draft-riddled jail and walking inside, Jimmy sighed as his gaze fell upon the pile of papers on top of his desk.
"Morning, Bill." Yellow grinned widely and waved an empty coffee cup in his direction with a questioning eyebrow twitch.
Jimmy nodded his assent and lowered himself into the chair behind his desk.
What a name for a lawman. When he'd first got the job of marshal he thought he was having his leg pulled when the incumbent deputy had introduced himself as Yellow. His real name was John Riley and Jimmy had still to learn where the universally used nickname had come from. But he'd soon found that, while quirky, Yellow was far from cowardly. Jimmy knew he could trust him with his back.
"Anything I need to know?" Jimmy asked wearily as Yellow approached the desk.
"Nope," the deputy answered as he placed the coffee in front of the marshal, who was sitting in the chair with his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Yellow was used to the younger man arriving for work suffering from the effects of too little sleep and too much drink but, as yet, he hadn't noticed it having any detrimental effect on the work Hickok had been hired to do. It took a young man to be able to live like that, he thought to himself. Young and not set on living to be much older.
"Bit o' trouble in the street early this mornin' - Andy Patten with too much whiskey in his belly tryin' to cause a scene. Sent him home to his woman."
Jimmy snorted. "Lucky her."
"Hmm. Quiet night apart from that. The old boy back there ain't said boo all night," Yellow added jerking his head towards the cell at the back of the room.
Sitting on the paper-thin mattress on the cot in the single cell was the drifter Jimmy had chased down outside of town early yesterday evening. Filthy and ragged, the man hadn't made any attempt to protest when Jimmy caught up with him by the river and hauled him back into town. As if the description Esther Miller had given of her attacker hadn't been enough, Jimmy had found a torn fragment of the restaurateur's wife's undergarments in the man's pocket.
Jimmy made a mental note to get over to the Miller's place as soon as he could that morning and check on Joe and Esther. He knew he couldn't turn back time and stop the attack from happening, as he would have liked to, but at least he could assure Joe that the man who had hurt his wife was going to hang for the crime. Feeling the rumblings of a familiar rage beginning in the pit of his stomach, Jimmy looked away from the man in disgust and directed his gaze out the tiny window.
Katie Collins was walking slowly down the opposite side of the street.
All other thoughts instantly gone from his mind, Jimmy watched her progress as she made her way along the street to the restaurant.
Katie.
He thought of her last night, of the sense of calm and relief he always felt when he was with her, and he was filled with the irrational desire to go to her right then and there. He dismissed it immediately - that wasn't how things were between the two of them. Not a soul in town knew Bill Hickok and Katie Collins had ever said more than a dozen polite and impersonal words to each other and he wasn't about to let them find out the truth. But, Lord, he wanted her.
Yellow sensed Hickok's distraction, but looking out along the street couldn't find the cause of it. With a shrug he announced his departure.
"I'm headed home then, Bill, if ya don't need me. Nancy was bakin' yesterday and I fancy myself some of that apple pie before I turn in. I'll bring ya some in, shall I, when I'm back in this evenin'? Y'know how the woman worries 'bout your eatin'."
Jimmy returned this deputy's grin. "Thank her for me, Yella. Get yourself some rest."
Yellow ducked out of the jail only to stick his head back round the door moments later. "Mail came for ya, by the way. Somewhere under that heap of papers."
"Thanks," Jimmy muttered, giving the stack a sidelong glance.
Yellow headed off towards home and Jimmy was left with his thoughts.
Katie had stopped at the door of the restaurant, key in hand, and was talking with Mrs. Kilburn, whose husband owned the hardware store on the corner. He watched as the wind played with the one long strand of brown hair which had escaped her bonnet. She was nodding as the older woman talked and Jimmy could tell she was cold and wanting to be inside. Suddenly, as if aware that she was being watched, Katie glanced across the street in the direction of the jail. She looked away just as quickly, but it was enough to let Jimmy know that she was thinking about him. As Mrs. Kilburn kept talking, Katie reached up and tucked the stray strand of hair into her bonnet in a self conscious gesture.
Jimmy couldn't quite reconstruct the events which had first brought them together. He was used to the company of saloon girls these days. They saw him at his worst and they didn't care. They accepted him, even if he was paying them to do it, and Jimmy had been sure that was what he needed. But with Katie it was all different.
She was the kind of girl who, a lifetime ago, back in the Express days, he would have fallen head over heels for. These days he knew he wasn't worth it; that he wasn't good enough, but that didn't stop him needing her. And for some strange reason of her own, she needed him too.
For weeks there'd been a strange tension between them when they saw each other around the town. There'd been a long, unnatural pause when his hand had touched hers as he'd reached to hold open the door to the general store for her. They'd held each other's glances a fraction too long when they'd passed in the street. And then came the night when he'd wandered in the back door of the restaurant, expecting to see Joe and hoping for a bite of food, though he'd missed the eatery's trading hours. Instead he had come across Katie.
He remembered standing in the doorway staring back at her, then walking up to her without a word and holding her, kissing her. He remembered the pounding in his chest and his utter amazement when she'd kissed him back just as eagerly. He'd spoken to the woman maybe four times in the months since he'd arrived in town and here he was making love to her as though possessing her was the act that was going to save his life. It was like that every time.
"Damn." Jimmy shook his head, trying to clear his brain. He had work to do and that didn't include obsessing over Katie Collins. He picked up a chunk of papers, mostly wanted posters, and started thumbing through them. Most of this paperwork he should have dealt with weeks ago but instead he'd been moving it from place to place on the rickety old table which he used for a desk. Resolving to get the task done, he was just buckling down when the door flew open and Olaf Petersen, the proprietor of the town's only 'decent' hotel, walked into his office.
"Marshal, I've come to speak to you over a very important matter which I feel I need to bring to your attention and I insist," he said, holding up a hand when Jimmy opened his mouth to speak, "that you not put me off again. I've had you dismiss my concerns time and time again, Marshal, and have born it patiently…"
"Mr. Petersen…" Jimmy began.
"But no longer!" Petersen's voice rose to drown out Jimmy's interruption. "I must insist that you do something about those, those women and their apparent desire to destroy my livelihood! I run a respectable, dignified hotel, Marshal Hickok," he barked, waving his hand in the direction of the newly built two storey log building on the other side of the street. "And it is hardly in keeping with the salubrious surrounds of my property to have those fallen women sunning themselves on my very doorstep!"
"Mr. Petersen…" Jimmy tried again, raising himself from his chair to stand behind his desk.
"Two dollar whores!" Petersen roared, his patience gone. "Although I'm sure you would be much better acquainted with their rates than I, Marshal!"
"Mr. Petersen," Jimmy snapped, his patience going the same way as the hotelier's. "I've told you before that the boardwalk outside the hotel is not your property and there's nothing I can do to stop members of the public standing on it if they chose to do so. And besides anything, the folk around here ain't gonna care if Clarke's girls set up camp on your doorstep. Hell, it'll probably improve your trade!"
Petersen opened his mouth to speak but it was Jimmy's turn to hold up a hand. "I'm a busy man, Mr. Petersen," Jimmy stated, grabbing handfuls of his paperwork off the desk as a demonstration, "and I don't have time to…"
An envelope fluttering to the desk from the pile of papers in Jimmy's right hand caught his attention and the words he was about to speak died on his tongue. Petersen took the opportunity presented to him.
"If you could just speak to Clarke and tell him to keep his women in his saloon and away from my hotel…"
Jimmy wasn't listening to a word. The envelope had landed face down on his desk and he picked it up slowly. He knew the sender without reading a word, familiar as he was with the handwriting. He held it in his hands and looked down at it. Lou. Generally he tried his best not to think of her and the others, banished them from his thoughts as he had done from his presence. And so it always stopped his heart for a few moments when she pushed her way in with her letters. When was that girl going to give up?
"Marshal?" Petersen had stopped complaining and was looking at Hickok and the letter in his hands with a look of annoyance tempered with curiosity.
Jimmy snapped his attention back to the man standing before him and hastily shoved the letter in his pocket, as though its presence in the office had left him somehow vulnerable. "What? Yes, fine, whatever."
Petersen hadn't expected to win so easily. "Well, er, it's about time. Good day to you Marshal."
Once the hotelier was safely out of the office, Jimmy sank down into his chair with a sigh. He let his hand slip into his pocket and touch the letter, making sure it was really there, but didn't get it out. Then he shut all thoughts of Louise, the Express and Katie Collins out of his mind and got on with his work.
Chapter Two
baby's got big black eyes
i read you like a radar trained
lost eyes shattered and frayed
Hanmer Creek, Montana Territory - September, 1865
Lou sat on the porch with her small son in her lap. For just a moment she tried to put all the worry and concern from her mind and just enjoy him. His soft, wispy blonde hair, the constant movement of his chubby fingers as he played with the lace on the sleeve of her dress, the solidity and warmth of his sturdy little body nestled in against her.
Noah noticed Kid's arrival before Lou did and waved a chubby fist in response. Lou watched him approaching, making his way through the long grass then kicking up dust as he crossed the yard. He looked so tired, so despondent.
"Where's my big boy?" Kid called as he neared the porch.
Noah wriggled down from his mama's lap and made his way over to his father's outstretched arms. Half way there, however, he was distracted by an ant, crouched down to inspect it and paid his father no further attention.
Kid laughed resignedly, stepped up onto the porch and lowered his aching body onto the swing next to Lou. She slipped her hand through his arm and leant her cheek against his shoulder. They looked out towards the mountains and felt the cool breeze pass over their faces. It took Kid a moment to take in her attire.
"You're dressed up, sweetheart," he murmured. "Goin' someplace?"
"It's Sunday, Kid," Lou said patiently. "Church."
Kid brought a hand to his forehead. "Oh Lou, I'm sorry. I clean forgot what day it was. You been waiting for me long?"
"Not long," Lou assure him. "Don't worry about it."
Kid rose to his feet. "What time is it? If I got cleaned up quickly…"
Lou shook her head. "It's alright Kid, honestly. We'll go next week. Didn't really want to go anyway."
Kid noticed her gaze shift to where Noah was playing in the dirt and his heart sank a little. Sometimes she looked so young and pretty, like she didn't have a care in the world, and it made him feel like he wasn't failing her. Then she'd look at Noah that way or get lost in her own thoughts and he'd remember how things really were.
It worried him that she fretted so much about Noah; about the little boy being 'different' and the reactions he brought about in the townspeople. But what really broke his heart was the fact that she never spoke to him about her concerns. She was so careful around him, so aware of the fact that he was working himself to exhaustion to try to stop the ranch from going under, that she didn't want to add to his worries by sharing her own.
And if Kid were to be honest, he was doing exactly the same thing as Lou. He tried not to mention how desperate things were for them: the dead stock, the constant lack of funds. He'd be full of praise for the left-over stew he'd eaten for five meals in a row. He never mentioned the tattered state of his mended clothes and tried to hide the exhaustion and disillusionment which had replaced the wild enthusiasm which had driven him when they first arrived in Montana. So now, each evening, when they were in each other's company, they'd enter a state of false joviality, each trying to spare the other.
Kid sighed and reached out to take Lou's hands, pulling her to stand before him. "I promise I'll remember next week, Lou. We're respectable married folk, after all. Gotta make an appearance at church!" He grinned and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "Why don't you and Noah call on Rachel today? It's been a few days now since Pat left; I'm sure she'd love a visit."
Lou fixed a smile on her face. "We just might do that. Can I fix you somethin' to eat before we go?"
"Sounds good," Kid nodded, happy to put off returning to work for a little bit longer.
"Stew alright?" Lou asked, disappearing into the house.
Kid sighed. "Great," he replied, scooping up Noah and following his wife inside.
Lou leaned back in her chair and watched her son with a contented smile. He was happily installed at Rachel's kitchen table putting little pieces of candy into his upturned hat. He was so clever with his fingers, able to manipulate such tiny little objects. It was always little things that took his interest and he'd spend hours on them, making little piles of pebbles, stroking leaves and feeling the bumps beneath his fingers. Lou delighted in these things, just as other mothers did in the first words which she had yet to hear.
She looked up to see Rachel watching Noah, too, a gentle smile on her face. She still looked drawn and a little sad, but there was color back in her cheeks which hadn't been there a few days ago. She'd looked like a ghost when Pat left; a ghost trying to put on a brave face.
It had been just like a paperback romance unfolding before your very eyes when Rachel Dunn and Pat Kelly had met back in Rock Creek. Lou smiled just to think of it, even these years later. He hadn't been your typical hero by a long way. He was ten years too old, his skin too weathered and his humor too bawdy to be your typical knight in shining armor, but when this Irish rogue broke into laughter you couldn't help but smile at the sheer joy of it. He knew a little bit about everything, was fiercely loyal to any person or cause he believed in and didn't seem to know a person who didn't count him as a friend. But it had been the twinkle in his eye which seemed to be reserved exclusively for Rachel that had won Lou and the others over and convinced them he wouldn't let her down.
It had been Pat who'd told them all about Montana. About the mountains and the fertile plains which rush up to meet them. About a sky that stretched on forever. He'd won Kid over with talk of land and opportunities, and Teaspoon with talk of trout that "jump clear out of the water and into your arms with smiles on their faces." That had been three years ago now and however hard times were for them at the moment, Lou would never regret the move.
Rachel and Pat were still, by all appearances, blissfully happy, installed in a small house just off the main street in town. Pat, however, had an uncontrollable wanderlust which Rachel, understanding him as she did, had never tried to cure him of. He was forever telling folks that "no man can prosper without his woman's leave" and that he loved his bride all the more for the liberty she granted him. This time he was on a long trip down to California, trapping along the way and turning his hand to a little prospecting with an old friend when he got there. For Rachel's sake, Lou hoped he satisfied his adventurous cravings sooner rather than later.
"Noah's getting so big, Lou," Rachel commented, breaking the silence and drawing Lou from her thoughts.
"Sure is," Lou replied, reaching out to stroke her son's head. "And he's lookin' more and more like the Kid, even with that blonde hair."
Rachel laughed; Cody had delighted in the little boy's blonde locks at his last visit and given Kid a lot of suggestive ribbing.
"And how is Kid? I haven't seen him in a while now."
"He's good. He's Kid," Lou smiled unconvincingly. "Working hard. We might be buying some new stock in a couple of weeks."
Rachel doubted the truth of those words, but held her tongue. When she and Teaspoon had spoken yesterday, Rachel had agreed that she would talk to Louise about her family's troubles, while Teaspoon would tackle Kid. She could tell, however, that now wasn't the time.
They were too proud and too stubborn, the pair of them, for their own good and there was very little their friends could do to help them. Rachel just wished she could see them happy and relaxed again.
"Oh!" she cried with sudden inspiration. "I've got something for you that's guaranteed to put a smile on that pretty little face of yours."
Lou watched with interest as Rachel walked over to the mantelpiece and retrieved a small white envelope. Lou's heart skipped a beat involuntarily.
"This came for you a couple of days ago. I take it Kid still doesn't know he's writing to you?"
Lou took the offered envelope. "Hasn't seemed like the best time to tell him," she admitted quietly. "Kid's still awful angry with him - I don't think he'd like it."
Rachel shook her head slowly. "Those boys…"
Lou sat looking at the envelope, running her fingers along the edges. After a moment she became aware that Rachel was watching her expectantly and Lou realized she was waiting for her to read the letter aloud. She wasn't to know that there would be little or nothing to read.
Standing abruptly, Lou pushed the letter into her purse and turned to Noah. "I'm sorry, Rachel," she said over her shoulder to the older woman as she hoisted her son to her hip. "We've got to head home. Noah needs a nap and I…"
"That's fine, honey, you run along home."
If Rachel was disappointed at being excluded from the correspondence, she didn't show any sign. Instead she gave the little blonde boy a kiss on the forehead and walked them to the door.
"Promise me you'll all come to dinner this week, though, Louise," Rachel called as Lou began to walk away from the house. "I'm already sick of eating on my own. I'll ask Teaspoon as well."
Lou waved her assent and continued on her way at a brisk pace. Once she was out of sight of the town she lowered Noah to the ground with the warning not to run off, and dug into her purse. The envelope was open in seconds and the contents were found to be more or less the same as always. A thin wad of notes enclosed in a single sheet of paper. Leaving the notes in the envelope, Lou slipped out the sheet of paper and read the few words printed on it.
Take care, Lou. Jimmy.
Lou laughed quietly to herself as she tried to hold back the tears. That was the most she'd got out of Jimmy Hickok in over a year.
With a sigh, Lou steeled herself, slipped the folded 'letter' back into her purse and thumbed through the notes. She'd give them up without a second thought in exchange for a letter of substance from her friend, but they were still going to come in awful useful.
The money was a large part of why she had no plans of telling Kid about her correspondence with Jimmy. He'd be furious if he knew Jimmy had sent them his savings and madder still if he knew that it had been going on since a couple of months after Jimmy had disappeared. Lou had never once asked for any kind of assistance, let alone money, and after the first amount arrived she'd written an angry letter in response. But times were so hard and she knew they needed the money to stay afloat. She also knew it was the only way Jimmy could find to make up for letting them down so badly. So she'd tucked the money away at home and dipped into it only when necessary. Necessary, though, was becoming more and more frequent.
Louise started to walk slowly towards home, Noah trotting along at her side, and was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the rider approaching until he was nearly upon her.
"Mrs. McCloud, it's a pleasure."
"Mr. Fletcher," Lou squinted up at the gentleman as he sat atop his horse, positioned between her and the sun. "What brings you out this way?"
"I was hoping for a word with your husband, actually. We have some business dealings to discuss."
There was something in the man's tone, something he was implying, which Lou didn't like or trust. She reached out surreptitiously with her left hand and took a grip of Noah's collar, pulling him in behind her. His small hand pushed its way into hers.
James Fletcher was what you would call a 'prominent citizen' of the town. He hadn't lived there long, arriving only shortly before the McClouds, the Kellys, Teaspoon and Buck had made Hanmer Creek their home. In that short time he had acquired one of the saloons, the barbers shop and a large parcel of land. According to Teaspoon, Fletcher seemed to think he owned the office of marshal. He'd met his match when Teaspoon took over but that didn't stop him trying. James Fletcher was forceful, determined and thought everything was for sale.
"Perhaps I might walk a ways with you, Mrs. McCloud?" Fletcher suggested quietly.
Lou protested quickly, ensuring him that she understood that he was a busy man and needed to be on his way, but Mr. Fletcher had dismounted and was standing beside her before the last of the words were out of her mouth. Trying to make the best of a bad situation she struck out purposefully toward home, wishing she's taken the buckboard to Rachel's instead of letting Noah have a walk.
Mr. Fletcher kept pace easily beside her. He grinned to himself at the sight of the slightly flustered young woman dragging her simpleton child along in her wake. She knew her place. She knew he was a man to be wary of.
"I understand times have been hard, Mrs. McCloud. Your husband is finding it a little more difficult than he thought to keep your 'ranch' running, I take it?"
Lou cast him a sharp look but kept walking. "Not at all, Mr. Fletcher. We're doing very well. In fact, my husband expects to purchase some new stock at the end of the month."
Fletcher let his head dropped back as he laughed. "Truly, Mrs. McCloud? Well, my talk with your husband needn't be as unpleasant as I had expected. I take it he has my money?"
This brought Lou up short. She looked at the well dressed man now standing in front of her and tried to fathom what he was saying. Kid had borrowed money from Fletcher? He'd gone to this awful, patronizing man and begged for assistance? As much as she didn't want to believe it, the sinking feeling in her stomach told her it was true.
"Am I to understand from your surprised expression that he didn't tell you?" Fletcher asked, knowing full well the answer. "I'm sure he did what was best, Mrs. McCloud… Louise?"
"Mrs. McCloud," Lou snapped, trying to summon up some confidence. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Fletcher, I need to be getting my son home."
As Lou brushed past him, gripping Noah's hand firmly, Fletcher reached out and took hold of her arm, turning her to face him. In the brief moment before he kissed her, Lou saw that the look on his face had turned from amused indifference to something harder to interpret. The shock of feeling his lips on her face, his body close to hers, coursed through her and she stumbled backwards, nearly knocking Noah over in the process.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted, rage making her voice ragged.
Fletcher laughed again, unperturbed. "Come now, Mrs. McCloud, a woman in your position would do well to make herself a little more pleasing."
"You're disgusting," Lou snapped, backing away with Noah in tow. The little boy had been surprised by the shouting and was watching his mother with wide eyes.
"And you are in debt," Fletcher leered. "A lot of debt. I might be persuaded to take some payment in kind, however."
Lou's blood ran cold but she did her best to hide it. "Don't be ridiculous."
She continued backing up, not wanting to turn her back on the man, but now he was walking towards her. When he took her by the shoulders she let go of Noah's hand, unwilling to have him dragged along with her. She felt Fletcher's fingers biting into the flesh of her upper arms, his body pressed up close to hers and his face bending towards her neck. "Don't," she hissed.
When he ignored her warning Lou wrenched free an arm and managed to strike him about the head with all the strength as she could muster. Faltering only for a moment, Fletcher recovered himself and hit Lou with the back of his hand with such force that she fell backwards and landed in the dirt. The little boy began to wail.
Stunned briefly, Lou began to prepare to defend herself but quickly realized Fletcher was no longer even looking at her. His attention had been drawn to something on the ground a couple of yards from where she had fallen. Following the line of his gaze she realized her purse had fallen and its contents were scattered over the ground. Fletcher stooped and picked up Jimmy's money, his eyebrows raised. "And where have you come by this, Mrs. McCloud?" he asked scornfully.
Feeling the blood trickle from her split lip as she spoke, Lou replied steadily. "It's a friend's."
Fletcher looked from the small wad of money to the dirt-covered woman picking herself up off the ground. There would be time for this later, when that pathetic child wasn't howling in the background. He slipped the money inside his coat pocket. "I'll pay you a call later in the week, Mrs. McCloud, to arrange for you to pay the rest of your installments. Try to have yourself cleaned up by then."
"What in god's name makes you think you won't be locked up in jail by the end of the day, Fletcher?" Lou cried in outrage, knowing she should keep quiet but unable to do so.
"Because, Mrs. McCloud," Fletcher murmured, taking a single step towards her. "You're a woman who has only her own word as proof of this incident; a woman who has reason enough to make up this little episode in order to free her husband from his obligation to pay off his debt. And, most importantly, you're a woman whose husband has handed over to me the deed to his property as security for his loan. You'll say nothing or you'll be off that property before you can blink. Good day."
Fletcher had mounted his horse and ridden off in moments, leaving Lou stunned and defeated. She realized Noah was still crying and drew the little boy to her, whispering words of comfort into his downy hair. Chapter Three
and you could lose everything and everyone abandon
Coleyville, Colorado Territory - September 1865
Jimmy swept his hat from his head, took a deep sigh, and walked into the restaurant. Katie was clearing the table in the corner. She looked across at him as she heard the door open and, upon seeing her, Jimmy felt his insides tighten and his chest constrict. Admonishing himself silently for apparently having the emotions of a love-struck child, he fought the feelings down.
"Morning, Miss Collins," he called across the small room, keeping his tone business-like for the benefit of the customers sitting scattered across the restaurant. "Mr. Miller upstairs?"
"He is, Marshal," Katie nodded and walked towards him, picking her way around the tables. When she reached him her voice dropped but her demeanor remained controlled. "I don't think Joe's doing so well, Bill. I went up this morning to see if there was anything I could do for Esther. She seemed a bit better but he…well, he didn't look so good."
"Can't say I blame him," Jimmy sighed. "Don't worry Katie, I'll go careful." When she still looked concerned he gave her a world-weary smile. "I know what I'm doin', Katie; it's my job."
Katie watched him disappear up the stairs and then headed back to the kitchen to prepare table nine's order. It might be his job, but Katie was sure Bill could think of a thousand things he'd rather be doing right now.
Jimmy found Joe sitting in the small, dark parlor which met you as you reached the top of the rickety stairs. He was sitting on a delicate chair which only served to make him look even larger and more ungainly. His head was in his hands and his clothes were creased and stale-looking. When he heard Jimmy's polite cough he raised his head sharply.
"Bill," Joe stated, rising to his feet to greet the Marshal.
Jimmy reached out and shook the man's hand solemnly. "How you holdin' up, Joe?"
The older man shrugged and slumped back down onto his chair. Jimmy looked around and then took a seat on the edge of the settee opposite Joe.
"And Esther?"
Joe looked across at Jimmy with blue eyes made paler with unshed tears. "She's busy reminding me why I married her. Been askin' all day if the restaurant was busy, if I needed to go down and help. She's always been the same; worried about every other soul but herself. Lying there bruised and…and hurt and only worried that the staff are workin' too hard." Joe gave an incredulous laugh and then broke off suddenly.
He fixed Jimmy with a bitter, hardened expression. "Has he said anything, Bill? Has he admitted it?"
"He's not said a word since I brought him in, Joe, and I don't think we need him to," Jimmy spoke in a low tone. "Esther described him to me down to the buckles on his boots. It's him, and no judge worth his salt is gonna think any different. Plus…plus he had some of Esther's clothing with him."
Jimmy had given the last piece of information in a steady, professional tone. He knew there was no point in not giving Joe the details, as it was bound to come out and, besides that, the man deserved the truth.
"He had…he took…?" Joe suddenly shot to his feet and advanced on Jimmy. "Hickok, I need you to give me some time with him."
Jimmy rose to his feet also and held out one hand in a calming gesture. "You know I can't do that, Joe."
"Damn it, he needs seeing to!"
"I know it. That's what the judge is coming for."
"She's my wife…" Joe Miller suddenly seemed lost for words.
Jimmy laid a hand on his shoulder. "I understand -"
"What do you understand?" Joe snapped, turning on Jimmy. "You got a wife you ain't told me about? Then how can you understand?"
"I understand you want to kill him. And if I did have a wife and he'd hurt her like that, I'd wanna kill him too. But you're smarter than me, Joe. You bide your time; stay home and look after Esther. Let the judge see justice done. Don't you go dirtying your hands on account of scum like that."
Joe stood looking at Jimmy with an expression which plainly showed the struggle going on inside him. Jimmy only knew which side had won when Joe's shoulders slumped and his face crumpled in tearless weeping. He reached out and held the crying man by one shoulder and when Joe stumbled forward slightly, wretched with fury and grief, Jimmy held his head to his chest and let him cry.
When Yellow returned to the jail that evening, Jimmy was sitting in his chair, which he had moved to the narrow boardwalk outside his office.
"Nice night for it," Jimmy greeted, swinging his chair back and resting his head against the wall.
"Bit brisk if you ask me," Yellow countered. "You been out here long?"
"Couldn't stand sittin' in there with him any longer," Jimmy answered.
Yellow looked in the direction indicated by Jimmy's nod of the head and saw the man who had attacked Esther Miller sitting in his cell and staring back at him.
"Maybe it ain't that cold after all," he agreed, leaning back against the railing. "Here."
Jimmy's hands closed around the small package Yellow had thrown into his lap.
"Apple pie and some cookies. Nancy sends her best and suggests you give the saloon a miss and get yourself an early night."
Jimmy looked up quickly, searching his deputy's face for any sign of reprimand or disapproval, but found none. His face broke into a slow grin.
"Might follow that particular piece of advice." Jimmy rose to his feet and pulled his collar up around his neck.
Yellow smiled at the young man who seemed even more weary than usual. "Tough day?"
Jimmy sighed. "I went to see Joe. Knew if I didn't he'd be over here looking to settle things by the end of the day. I think he's seen sense."
Yellow nodded in understanding. "Go get yourself some rest, Hickok. I'll shout for ya if I need ya…same as always."
Jimmy tucked his parcel of baked goods under his arm and stepped off the boardwalk with a wave.
As always his eyes roamed from side to side as he walked down the middle of the darkening street to the boarding house. From the ragged tent city at the end of the street, the warm glow of lamplight was accompanied by the quiet chatter of folks settling down for the evening. There would be no trouble tonight. It was too cold for most folk to venture out and the saloon had been quiet when he'd checked in there earlier.
He was still grateful that he had had the common sense not to take up Alex Clarke's offer of a cheap room at the saloon when he first arrived in town. He succumbed to the temptation of the card tables often enough as it was; what kind of state would he been in if he hadn't removed himself from the enticements the saloon had to offer and taken the room at the boarding house?
Jimmy took the stairs to his room two at a time and after a moment fumbling for his key, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The room was bare; only a few personal belongings suggesting it was occupied at all. The bed was made - the manager, Mrs. Watkins, insisted on slipping in and tidying up the room every morning - and the curtains had also been pulled across for him, shutting out the cold which seeped in through the gaps around the window frame. He was almost surprised not to find a cup of hot milk by the bed and a bed-warmer under the sheets. Jimmy put his parcel down on the small table by the door and pushed aside the paper. Perching on the edge of the table he munched on a slice of pie, one still-gloved hand hovering under his chin to catch the crumbs.
Looking around his straightened room, Jimmy pondered what it could be about him that enabled a certain sort of person to see straight through his hard facade. Mrs. Watkins, Nancy and Yellow, Joe and Esther, they all seemed to be able to find the chinks in his armor. It made him feel a little vulnerable, exposed. How much did they know? Did they know he was lonely? Did they know he hated his job and that he felt pretty much the same way about himself? Did they know just how easy a target he was if you aimed in the right direction? But he wasn't really complaining; it was nice knowing not everyone bought the Wild Bill act, even if he himself wasn't sure anymore. Just as long as he was still able to put the fear of God into the rest of the rough and ready town.
When he finished his pie, Jimmy shrugged off his jacket, swapped it for the thicker one hanging in his closet and headed back out the door.
Jimmy's breathing slowed and briefly it was in time with Katie's. He enjoyed the moment, the close and intimate nature of it. He held her tighter, his fingers gripping the soft, warm skin which grew bumpy under the touch of his cooler fingers, and listened to the hectic babble of the water in the creek a few yards away. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck and placed warm kisses on her collar bone. Her fingers slowly started releasing their grip on the hair at the nape of his neck. He breathed her in one last time and then committed to letting go.
"We should be getting you home," he whispered.
"We should be getting you home," she countered, pushing his hair back from his face.
He smiled to himself in the darkness. "Come on then. Walk me home, Miss Collins."
Katie took the hands he offered and he pulled her to her feet. They took a moment to right their clothes carefully, always mindful of the need to keep their secret. When Katie looked up, she saw Jimmy leaning against the tree and watching her. She couldn't see his eyes at all, as they were hidden in the shadow cast by his hat, but even in the moonlight she could make out his lips as they curved into a smile.
"What are you grinning about?" she asked, doing up the last of her buttons.
"Just thinkin' to myself that it would be nice to do this one time without having to keep on half our clothes," he drawled audaciously. "Did you know some people even do it in beds?"
Katie laughed and tossed his gloves to him. "Without twigs and stones poking you in the back? What would be the fun in that?"
"I don't know," Jimmy said, grinning. "I think I might like it."
"Well, no harm in dreaming, Bill," Katie giggled. "Come on. Home."
Jimmy took her hand and tucked it through his arm as they started walking along the creek in the direction of town. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she minded the clandestine nature of their time together, the impropriety. To tell her he was sorry and he wished it could be different. But he kept his thoughts to himself. They were coming up to the back of the church before Jimmy spoke again.
"I'll wait until you're inside," he said, the same as always.
"G'night, Bill. Keep safe," Katie whispered.
He stood and watched Katie's receding form until he saw her small shadow disappear up the stairs of the boarding house at the other end of the street. Then, skirting around the edge of the town to the blacksmith's, he cut through until he emerged onto the street from the middle of the cluster of tents opposite the boarding house.
Edgar Watkins sat in his chair next to the window of his ground floor room. Through the wall he could hear the springs of his bed squeak as his wife lay herself down to sleep following her long day of labor. Even that noise sounded condescending and belittling to Edgar. Did she have to flaunt it to his face; how hard she worked? How well she was 'coping' and how useless he was?
He knew what everyone thought. That poor woman, running the boarding house on her own, supporting that pitiable cripple of a husband. How ever did she manage? How noble, how self-sacrificing. What a brave woman.
Ha. What a sham.
What they didn't know was that she loved it. She loved the attention. She loved making a martyr of herself. Oh, she was so much better than he was. With every sacrifice made and every cheek turned she was rubbing salt into the wound. You're a cripple now, Edgar. You need me to take care of you now, Edgar. Such disrespect. From her and the whole damn town.
He'd been one of the first to arrive in Coleyville, before idiots had started arriving by the wagon-load and the buildings had sprung up. He'd been so close, so close to success when it had happened. His accident. The rock slide. And now what? Now he sat by the window day after day watching as those pitiful fools walked along the street, busy with their useless little lives, taking the opportunities which had been snatched from his grasp.
Edgar was reaching towards the table with his cane, trying to hook the blanket his darling wife had left him, when he noticed the marshal walking past the window and making his way up the stairs. Funny. Katie Collins had come in just a few minutes ago. Fourth night in a row this little pattern had played itself out under his clandestine watch. Katie Collins and Bill Hickok. Interesting.
Jimmy shrugged off his jacket and flung it on the table. He rummaged in his food package, pulled out a cookie and sank down onto his bed. Upstairs he could hear soft footsteps, those of bare or stocking-covered feet moving about directly over his head. Katie was getting ready for bed in her room in the attic, which was strictly reserved for the female boarders. Sometimes when Jimmy lay in bed at night he felt that his eyes could burn clear through the ceiling he was staring so hard. He couldn't stop thinking about her.
Trying to master some self-control, Jimmy directed his gaze away from the ceiling and let it travel around the room before falling on the sleeve of the jacket he'd worn that day, which was sticking out of his closet. Clambering over the foot of his bed, Jimmy walked to the closet and, opening the door, felt around in the jacket pocket.
He took a seat at the table to make the most of the lamp light and looked down at the envelope in his hands. After a moment's hesitation, he ran his forefinger along the opening and eased the letter out.
Dearest Jimmy,
I'm sorry it's been a while since my last letter but, seeing as I'm sure you don't read them anyway, I guess it don't matter.
It's been a beautiful summer here filled with long sunny days - the kind when we used to rush through our chores and escape to the pond. I often think about sitting at the edge of the water watching you boys fool around, playing like little children. Sometimes all that doesn't seem so long ago, but then you think of all that's happened in between and you realize just how far away that time really is now.
Buck left this week to pay Cody a visit in St Louis. It took a lot of talking to convince him to go. He wanted to stay and help Kid with the work, but he's been so heartbroken since he found out the truth about Claire that he was making himself ill with the pain and disappointment. He'd been so sure about her. I don't know what's thrown him more, losing her or finding out he could have had it all so wrong. He'd even started thinking about buying a ring. I could kill the girl with my bare hands for hurting him like that. Anyway, hopefully Cody will be able to knock some life back into him.
Teaspoon is still the 'acting' marshal but nobody seems to be doing anything about hiring someone permanent. He complains all the time about being 'tricked' into taking the job but you know Teaspoon - he loves it really.
Rachel's well too and sends her love. Pat's just got back from a couple of weeks in the mountains and so, to be honest, we haven't seen much of them the last few days. Honestly, it's like they're both still newlyweds! But it's lovely to see Rachel so happy.
Noah is growing quickly and looking so much like his daddy now. Kid dotes on him. I know Noah would like to meet his Uncle Jimmy someday soon. Kid would like that too, though I'm sure you won't believe me. I know you think Kid won't forgive you, but I honestly think you're selling him short, Jimmy. Buck and I were mad too, and we've forgiven you. It's just going to take Kid a little longer.
I wish you'd write me, Jimmy. Tell me something about your life. Let me know you're alright. Anything Jimmy - the weather's hot there too, you're living on cheese sandwiches, there's lots of work to do, there are friends for you there, there's a girl… Anything.
We think about you all the time. It doesn't have to be this way.
Ride safe and remember you're a good man, Jimmy.
Your friend always, Lou
Jimmy read the letter through three more times before he looked up at the bare wall in front of him and sighed. He sat still for a while, long enough to register the fact that the movement in the room above had ceased. Katie was in her bed.
He stood slowly and walked to the corner of the room, where he squatted down. Pulling at the skirting board where the two walls met, the wood came away in his hands revealing a hollow in the wall which was nearly filled by a small wooden box. Jimmy slipped his fingers in and drew out the box. Without standing up, he eased off the lid and the papers inside sprang up, threatening to spill out onto the floor. He pushed the letters, all of which were well worn and bore the same neat handwriting, back into the box and placed on top the new addition. He stayed where he was with his fingers pressing on Lou's latest beseeching letter for a full minute before breaking himself from his trance and replacing the lid. He took his time returning the box to its hiding spot and making sure the skirting boards were properly replaced.
Removing only his boots, Jimmy extinguished the lamp and threw himself back on his bed. A feeble trail of moonlight forced its way in through a gap in the curtains and fell across the bed and the wall opposite. There was no sound at all in the building. He lay quietly thinking about his friends, about Lou's pleas and Kid's anger. It was some time before Jimmy found sleep.
Chapter Four
and you will lose everything and everyone will leave you
Rock Creek, November 1861
Buck lay on his bunk watching Jimmy staring out the window. Not that Jimmy would admit that was what he was doing - when Buck had called him on it half an hour ago the other man had mumbled something about cleaning his guns and needing extra light. But Buck knew what he was really doing. Kid and Lou had been getting ready for the trip since breakfast. The day before, Rachel had spent nearly the whole day with Lou, washing and mending all their clothes, and now Kid was busily checking over the horses while Lou packed their meager belongings. Jimmy was watching the goings on around the house with his jaw firmly clamped.
Over the last few weeks all at the old station had watched as Jimmy withdrew more and more, his pursed lips forming a tight, immovable line and his expression a mask of indifference. His mood had been morose at best since the sudden and unexplained end to his relationship with Rosemary and they'd all been certain they could guess what Jimmy's response to Kid's decision would be. They'd all been wrong.
This definitely wasn't the way any of them had expected Jimmy to handle it. From past experience they had prepared themselves for a typical angry reaction, but the night Kid had announced over dinner that he and Lou would be leaving for Virginia, Jimmy had kept his head down and his opinions to himself, with only the occasional meaningful glance in Lou's direction. He'd kept his silence as preparations had begun for their departure and now the day was nearly upon them and he looked ready to explode with pent up anger.
Buck searched for a way to defuse the tension he saw in his friend. He stood up from his bunk and picked up his hat.
"I told Rachel I'd pick up a few things for her from Tompkins today. Give me a hand?"
Jimmy looked up at Buck dumbly for a moment and then rose to his feet stiffly and without comment. The two walked through the door and made their way over to check the list with Rachel. Buck even managed to get a few words out of Jimmy, even if it was only to agree with his comment about the weather. And so, Buck could have cried with frustration when they ran into Kid, who was on his way out of the house as they walked in.
The three men stood awkwardly for a moment, as though sizing each other up. Buck couldn't help but feel caught in the middle and he did his best to smooth the situation over.
"Rachel around? We're just heading over to Tompkins," he asked lightly.
"She's inside with Lou - they're packing."
Kid spoke with a firm tone, his eyes fixed on Jimmy and his attitude something of a challenge. To Buck's relief, Jimmy kept his eyes averted and his mouth shut. Buck made to pass Kid and walk into the house but he was blocked by Kid's hand.
"They're a bit, er, busy at the moment. Might be best to leave them a while."
As if on cue, the sound of Lou's rising high-pitched cries could be heard and were followed by Rachel's gently consolatory tones and then the younger woman's weeping.
"She's a bit upset," Kid explained, almost sheepishly.
"No prizes for guessing why," Jimmy snapped, unable to stop himself. Then, as if regretting his words instantaneously, he stepped into the house, away from Kid's bristling indignation, and called out to Rachel.
"Me and Buck are goin' over to Tompkins' now, Rachel."
The voices upstairs fell quiet and moments later he could hear footsteps on the stairs. Turning to walk back out of the house, Jimmy found his path blocked by Kid's angry form.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Kid demanded. The tension between him and Jimmy had been building and building to the point that he was almost glad for the opportunity to have it out.
"Nothin'," Jimmy replied, shrugging his way past Kid and out the door.
Kid tried to grab at his arm but missed and instead followed Jimmy outside, his anger mounting.
"Damn it, Hickok. If you've got something to say just say it."
Jimmy turned on his friend, his face a picture of fury. Over Kid's shoulder he noticed Buck's concerned face. He tried to rein himself in.
"Leave it, Kid," Jimmy said, keeping his voice low and controlled.
"Why? So you can make a martyr of yourself, storming around with your high and mighty attitude? You think you're not making it damn clear what you think about us goin'? As if you haven't pushed your opinion about this on me often enough in the past. You think you're making any of this any easier?"
Jimmy was about to retaliate when he saw Lou emerge from the house and step onto the porch. She looked at her friend with anxious eyes.
"Please, Jimmy."
Kid turned around at the sound of his wife's voice and then whirled back around on Jimmy.
"What about Lou, Jimmy? Think you're makin' this any easier on her?"
Buck and Lou both cringed as they practically heard the camel's back break at this last, particularly well-placed straw.
"Me? You think I'm the one makin' this hard on her?" Jimmy hissed, his anger boiling over. "God damn it, Kid!"
Suddenly Buck was in between them. He'd had enough practice at pulling these two off each other to know when intervention was needed.
"Come on, Jimmy, you don't want to do this. Neither do you, Kid." He patted Jimmy on the shoulder and started trying to guide him away. "Tompkins, remember?"
Jimmy was having none of it, however. He shook Buck off and turned back towards the house.
"I'm sorry, Lou, I know I promised you. But I can't do it! I won't. This is the stupidest damn thing I ever heard of and I can't stand by and watch you both do it."
"You don't have a choice, Jimmy," Kid barked. "It ain't your decision to make - it's ours; mine and Lou's. It ain't your place, Jimmy. You don't get a say in this!"
"So that's it, is it?" Jimmy took a step closer to Kid and Lou felt her heart sink a little further. "It's just the two of you now, is it? We ain't all family anymore?"
"That's right," Kid shouted back, emphasizing his words with a push to Jimmy's chest. "So try mindin' your own damn business for a change."
Jimmy was about to retaliate, his fingers already bunched into a fist, when he caught another glimpse of Lou's sorrowful face over Kid's left shoulder. When she'd come to him, the day before Kid had announced their decision to leave, he'd promised her he wouldn't do this. He'd promised her he'd keep his peace and that he and Kid would go their separate ways as friends. He breathed out slowly through his mouth and tried to relax his muscles. He couldn't give Lou the friendly farewell she had asked for but he wasn't about to end things with a fist fight.
He looked Kid in the eye, noting his anger and determination. "You're a fool," he said quietly. Then he turned on his heel and began to walk away.
Kid wasn't about to let things go so easily, however.
"You just can't accept this, can you, Jimmy?" he shouted following quickly on Jimmy's heels. "It's my life-"
"It's my life!" Jimmy roared, wheeling around to face Kid. "It's my life - the life I want. I'd give anything to have what you have and you're gonna give it all away! You're just gonna offer it up to this stupid damn war and let some general decide whether you get to keep it or you die in the mud! I can't abide it, Kid! I…"
He stopped when he realized he was near trembling with fury. Looking at Kid, Lou and Buck's stunned expressions and past them to the anxious faces of Teaspoon and Rachel, who had come out of the house at the sound of the first heated words, Jimmy realized the weight of his emotions far outstripped the words he had available.
This time when he walked off, Kid didn't follow. Moments later his friends watched as he sped out on Sundance, knowing he wouldn't be back by the time Kid and Lou left the next morning.