Topic #62: War
Kid looked across the battlefield once more to see Jimmy still planning his strategy for the coming fray. "Come on. Let's get this over with." The sandy haired man thought in annoyance, he felt like he had been sitting doing nothing for hours, and he silently urged Jimmy to make his move. Kid knew he had the advantage of greater troop numbers at his command, but his opponent had the superior training and tools; there by most likely to take the day if the Southerner wasn't careful.
Jimmy was taking more time than he normally would have to decide what he should do. He knew his advisory well and knew that one of Kid's strengths was his ability to wait out the delaying tactics. Jimmy was going to try to make that strength into a weakness by forcing Kid to wait even longer than normal.
Kid was sure that the delay was Jimmy's way of provoking him into doing something rash, but he resisted. One thing Teaspoon had taught him was that if you could out wait the enemy you had a better chance of winning. But than Jimmy had the same training so maybe this time it would be a game of who could out stubborn the other.
Jimmy looked at his options and debated all possibilities for each move he could make. His dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at the table before him. Kid had him out numbered and pinned down, but Jimmy wondered if he sacrificed one or two of his men if he could ultimately win the battle, but the loss of which of his men would be the most advantageous? Jimmy hated the idea of losing any more than he already had.
Suddenly both heard a whooping battle cry from Cody as he upset the calm battleground between the two combatants. Both men had their guns drawn and pointed at Cody within moments. Both Generals saw their men scattered and their hard won positions lost for all times.
"Damn it Cody!" Jimmy yelled, while Kid grumbled under his breath at the loss of his organized troops. Which commander would shoot the blonde irritant first was now the question before them.
Cody looked back and forth between his two friends in shock, then at the conflict he had disrupted, before he announced, "Forget the checker game. Teaspoon just got a letter from Russell, Majors and Waddell, it's official, the Country is at War."
“I DECLARE WAR!” Cody exclaimed as he slapped three cards one-at-a-time face down on the bunkhouse table. He stared evilly at Jimmy with a hardened glint in his eye.
Jimmy simply shook his head at Cody’s antics and laid three cards face down as well. With an unspoken gesture the two Pony Express riders turned one card face up at the same time.
Cody cackled with delight, much to Jimmy’s chagringe.
They’d been at the same game for hours already and Jimmy thought he was on the way to victory, judging by the growing pile of cards in front of him only moments ago. However, the game was definitely shifting in Cody’s favor…yet again. Just when he thought he might finally have Cody defeated and backed into a corner with the puny pile of cards he had, the quirky rider would somehow pull an Ace out of his sleeve and win the turn. Jimmy began to seriously wonder if maybe he did have actual Aces up his sleeve, but so far Jimmy hadn’t caught the blonde rider cheating.
Why Cody would actually cheat and want to prolong this game any more than it had already been was beyond Jimmy. It was the most boring, yet frustrating game of cards he had played yet. How he got roped into playing with Cody was another burr under his…err, behind.
They had been stuck in the bunkhouse due to a deluge of rain for the last three days. And the rides had been slow coming in lately. Jimmy had already cleaned and shined his guns and boots ‘til a body could almost see themselves in them. If he’d have shined the leather on his boots anymore he was afraid he’s rub a hole clean through them. The horses still had to be cared for of course and the stalls mucked out, but with five of the six riders stuck at the station, it really didn’t take that long to accomplish.
So when Cody had suggested Jimmy and he play a game of cards, Jimmy thought ‘why not?’ He had been expecting their usual poker match and all five of them would join in, but Cody insisted what he had in mind was a two player game and the winner could then challenge the next rider to play. Sounded good at the time, but that had been a little over three hours ago.
Jimmy considered simply throwing all his cards in and quitting, but something about Cody’s smug attitude when Jimmy suggested it had kept Jimmy in the game and he refused to give up. Hours later, Jimmy now realized the flaw in his thinking and he should have quit while he was ahead, but Cody kept goading him into continuing the game. He really got suckered into this one…big time.
Jimmy laid his next card down, the eight of diamonds. Not bad he thought. But Cody could still beat it. And of course, he did. With the Queen of Hearts. Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Cody, suddenly realizing that was the same card that was just played when Cody had ‘declared war’. Settling back in his chair, Jimmy began watching Cody more closely beneath his hooded lids. After four turns Jimmy had figured out what Cody was doing. He was drawing his cards from both the top and the bottom of the deck, depending on what Jimmy laid down first.
“Cody, I thought you said we were supposed to draw our cards from the top of the deck when you explained the rules to me earlier.”
Cody looked up in surprise with a faint hint of panic in his eyes before he quickly tamped it down.
“Yeah, that’s right. Ain’t that what you’ve been doin’ Hickok?”
“It is, but I’m not so sure that’s what you’re doin’.” Jimmy leaned in and looked him straight in the eye. He didn’t say nothin’, he didn’t have to. The truth was written as plain as day on Cody’s face.
“Shoot, Hickok, I was just funnin’ with ya’.”
“Uh, Cody, I’m not sure I’d use the words ‘shoot’ and ‘funnin’ with ya’’ in the same sentence with Jimmy.” Kid observed from across the room. He’d figured Cody had been cheating or as he put it ‘funnin’ with Jimmy for quite awhile. He just wasn’t sure how he’d been doing it either.
Jimmy jumped up from his seat in frustration, raking his hands through his long hair and gave Cody a look of total exasperation.
‘C’mon, Jimmy sit down and we’ll finish this game. I’ll quit funnin’ with ya’.” Jimmy gave him a look that showed he seriously doubted that. And Cody quickly marked an “X” across his chest and said, “Honest.”
Giving in, Jimmy sat back down and they resumed playing.
“I DECLARE WAR!” Once again Cody exclaimed. Laying three cards face down and one up, he saw that Cody won the war again. Jimmy sighed, shaking his head, knowing this game was never going to end at this rate.
Cody played honestly, as far as Jimmy could tell…for awhile. Then when Cody’s pile of cards began to dwindle again, Jimmy caught him pulling cards from the bottom of his deck again.
“Cody! You’re countin’ cards again, ain’t ya’?”
“C’mon, Jimmy this is fun. And what else have we got to do ‘round here?”
Trying to control his temper, but sadly loosing it rather quickly, Jimmy reached across the table grabbing Cody by his shirt collar. Jimmy all but snarled at Cody and said, “No, this ain’t fun. You’ve been dragging this card game on too long and I’m tired of it. Either quit and admit your loss or I’m the one goin’ to declare war - on your sorry ass.”
Knowing he had probably pushed Jimmy to his limit, Cody held his hands up in defeat. “Whatever you want, Jimmy. Sheesh. If you wanted to quit all you had to do was say so.”
“I did say so about two hours ago and you wouldn’t let me.”
Cody looked around the room at the other riders trying to find his next mark. “Alright who wants to play me next?”
Most everyone rolled their eyes or sighed their disgust and turned away from him.
Jimmy flopped down on his bunk and announced he was going to take a nap.
A few moments later, Ike came in from outside, shaking off the rain from his coat and stamping his boots. Cody looked up and grinned.
“Hey, Ike, how ‘bout a game of cards. I know this really great game…” Ike nodded his pleasure. Ready for anything to take his mind off the relentless rain.
It wasn’t long before Jimmy woke to the sound of Cody again exclaiming, “I DECLARE WAR!”
“Cody!” He barked at him. Turning to face him, Jimmy leveled a stare at him that would make most men back off in fear. But Cody being Cody simply stared at him blankly and said, “What?”
Jimmy looked at Ike and when Ike grinned and started signing to Jimmy something out of the line of vision of Cody, Jimmy laughed and turned back in his bunk to go back to sleep.
Oblivious to whatever transpired between Ike and Jimmy, Cody laid down his final card face up, waiting for Ike to do the same. What happened next baffled Cody. He’d lost the ‘war’. How’d that happen? He thought for sure his King of Spades would be the surefire winner. But Ike had laid down an Ace of Spades and won the ‘war’. Leaving Cody with only two cards, a two and a six. He was definitely going to lose now. And only moments later that’s exactly what happened.
“Ike, how…but I…never mind.” Cody said sullenly and sulked off towards his bunk to take a nap of his own.
Jimmy smiled to himself, remembering what Ike had signed to him. “Don’t worry, I can cheat, too.”
“Why can’t she just leave me alone?” Jimmy grumbled as he sat down on the barrel outside the bunkhouse. “I don’t want to go to church and she needs to quit gettin’ on me about goin’ with her. I don’t like her tryin’ to force her religion on me.”
Walking up to the bunkhouse and leaning against the post, Buck shared his sentiments. “She tried to get me to go again too. Emma knows I don’t believe in her god…I don’t try to get her to believe in my people’s ways.”
Teaspoon had been sitting on a chair, leaning against the bunkhouse wall listening to the boys complain.
“You two realize by the things you said to Emma you are doing exactly what you claim she’s doing to you? You two, through your words were trying to get her to believe in what you do…Emma ain’t tryin’ to turn you to her beliefs.
If’n ya haven’t noticed in the past, each week, she asks each of you boys and myself if we’d like to join her at church. She never gets upset when you or I say no; she just smiles and tells you she will see you later. All Emma’s doin’ is bein’ considerate and askin’ if we’d like to join her. Kinda like when she’s goin’ to town and asks if anyone would like to go along…”
“I don’t think this is the same thing Teaspoon…” Jimmy began, his back going stiff at the thought that Teaspoon was about to take him to task about not going to church. If he did, it would be like the pot calling the kettle black, seeing how the stationmaster tried to stay away from church as much as he and Buck did.
Buck wasn’t to happy either and said so. “Teaspoon, I’m just sick of whites trying to get my people to change their ways and believe in their god…why can’t we just be left in peace and pray as we want?”
Nodding, seeing Buck’s point, Teaspoon looked at the two young men and said, “This reminds me of a group of men that I’d once fought with and against…”
Jimmy looked confused. “How can you fight with and against someone Teaspoon? You ain’t makin’ sense…”
Tipping his hat back on his head, Teaspoon told him, “Just hold you’re horses there son and I’ll explain.”
Seeing this might take a while, Buck sat down on the porch and leaned against the post.
“It was back when we was fightin’ the Mexicans in the war. Now you know that Mexico is considered a Catholic country…well, we had a large amount of soldiers that were from Ireland who were also Catholics. These men had a hard time fightin’ against a country that was Catholic, but they were doin’ it for the time being. That is until many of their fellow Protestant soldiers and senior officers refused to allow them to attend Sunday mass or to practice their religion freely. This was something that reminded them partly why they’d left Ireland…that and the famine.”
Clearing his throat, he looked at the two young men and was surprised to see them anxiously waiting for him to continue.
“The combination of fighting against fellow Catholics, being unable to practice their religion freely and the offers of 300 acres of free land in Mexico soon became to much for many and they deserted the Army and joined the fight helping those they’d been fighting against.
It was at the Battle of Monterrey back in the fall of ’46 that I met up with some of my former fellow soldiers. I have to tell you, I didn’t want to go up against men that had been my friends and hung back during the fighting. I might not agree with all that happened and I did believe that they had a right to pray to whom they liked, but I just couldn’t go up against them.
It was after that battle that word got back to us about the San Patricios…or Saint Patrick’s Brigade as they were being called. It consisted of the Irish, German and other immigrants that had fled to Mexico and were now helping in the fight against the Americans. We ended up fighting against them at every major battle and let me tell you, them boys were something fierce…they fought without fear and were ruthless….if the Mexicans had a few hundred more like them, I truly believe that Mexico would have won the war.”
Teaspoon went on for an hour telling Jimmy and Buck about Saint Patrick’s Brigade finishing his story on a sad note.
“At the end of the war, when Mexico surrendered and ceded almost half of it’s territory to the States, every member of the San Patricios left was interned and given and individual court martial trial. Many were set free but a select few were made example of and executed. I have to tell you boys, it was one of the saddest days I ever witnessed…see, I was there.”
Not understanding why Teaspoon told him and Jimmy the story Buck asked in confusion, “Why did you just tell us about all this Teaspoon?”
“Because son, freedom of religion is important to each of us. What you believe in is different from what Jimmy believes in and what you both believe in ain’t the same as Emma. But Emma, out of kindness to you boys, asks if you’d like to join her, knowing neither of you will accept. Instead of fighting her, like the men in the Army did the Irish…you need to be accepting that everyone is different and allow them to do their own thing, as Emma does with you two without trying to ‘push’ her religion on you…”
Standing up and stretching, Teaspoon tilted his hat further down on his head. “I think I’ll leave you boys alone now…I’m sure I’ve given you a few things to think upon. Don’t let Sunday’s turn into a battle field around here….remember, I was there and I’ve seen how different beliefs can tear apart those we love…”
Jimmy stared out into the deep darkness that surrounded the small encampment his head whirling with emotion. It seemed such a short time since Kid and Lou’s wedding. Now everyday he feared he would meet Kid during a battle or skirmish. Worst yet, he feared one of his “special missions” would lead to him turning in information that would get Kid killed.
“Why,” he wondered now, “did we even join this fight? It’s not really our fight. It’s an eastern fight, it doesn’t really concern us. Most men are free where we live; it ain’t going to stop the prejudices.” None if it made any sense to him anymore.
CRACK! The sound of a shot broke the still of the night and into Jimmy’s thoughts.
“I did it!” came a shout, “I got me a reb!”
“Damn recruits,” he muttered recognizing the voice of one of the very young recruits that had just joined the unit a few days earlier. Wearily he stood, knowing the colonel would want his opinion on the man that had been shot.
He turned and walked toward where the commotion was. Reaching the lantern light he looked past the men surrounding the body on the ground to movement coming toward them. He stood transfixed as the shape began to take form and color in the dim light.
It was a familiar paint. The bridle, he recognized as one Buck had given Kid right before he left. The saddle was the same one that had angered Lou so much when they had first started riding for the Express. The blanket, it had been his gift to Kid last Christmas. Jimmy wouldn’t let his heart believe his eyes. His worst fears were coming true.
“Captain Hickok,” came the call forcing its way into his thoughts. “What do you make of these?” the colonel asked holding out an envelope and a photo.
His hand shaking, Jimmy took them from the colonel afraid to look at the photograph. Afraid to look into the eyes of the woman he loved. Opening the envelope he read,
LouThings are not as I expected here and home is no longer Virginia. I miss the openness of the plains. My home is with you. I miss you so much and am coming home to you. I should beat this letter but if I don’t I just wanted to tell you I’m on my way home.
Your loving husband,
Kid
Jimmy didn’t even realize he had made a sound. He moved to grab the recruit; he was going to kill the man that had taken the life of his brother.
Wrapping his hands around the man’s neck, he began to choke the life out of him. Jimmy had never used his bare hands as a weapon, he’d always relied on his guns to do the job for him, but this man had killed his brother. His brother lay on the cold ground, his blood staining the dirt. Jimmy’s heart screamed for revenge to kill the killer of his brother.
“Captain!” the colonel shouted as he and the sergeant pulled Jimmy off the recruit. “Get a hold of yourself! Explain yourself!”
The colonel shivered as Jimmy turned toward him. Pain and loss was buried under the fury that was written on every part of Jimmy’s face. His eyes were on fire from the unshed tears. “That ‘reb’ was my brother, my best friend,” Jimmy said his voice devoid of emotion and dead cold. He turned, walked to where Kid lay and knelt next to his brother. “I’m resigning my commission. We’re going home. Your war has taken enough from us. It ain’t any of our concern anymore. Kill each other and we in the west will pick up the pieces when you’re done.”
“Captain,” the Colonel said compassion filling his voice, “you can’t take him all the way back to Nebraska. It’s too far.”
“I’ll bury him here in Virginia then. I want no help from any of ya. I’ll take his horse home to his wife.” Jimmy swallowed the hard lump that was in this throat, nearly choking.
Lifting Kid he walked away from the men he had called friends for the last few months. He buried his best friend in the shade of a lonesome oak, and spent what was left of the night camped next to Kid’s grave. The next morning he packed what was left of his gear, saddled both Sundance and Katy and headed west.
The War Between the Heart and Mind
by: catsimmie
Kid tossed the paper down onto the table and sighed. Once again it was filled with stories about the War and how the land he once called home was being destroyed. He once swore he would go back and fight for the land he loved, but so much had changed since then.
At the time he thought he needed to keep the memory of his friends and family alive by saving what little was left of his past life. But now he called a new land home, he had a new family, life, and dreams.
It was tearing him up inside. Lou would not like it, but she would understand his decision to leave and fight. He had once told her leaving her would be the hardest thing he would ever do, but staying would be harder.
"Kid?" Lou walked into the dining room of their new home. She crossed the room to where he was sitting, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. "I got worried when I woke up and you weren't there."
Kid looked up at his wife and smiled. He gently took her arms and pulled her around and in to his lap. "Sorry. I had another restless night."
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"Did you ever wake me during your restless nights?" He placed his forehead against hers.
Lou chuckled. "Well most of those restless nights were because I was thinkin' about you. The others you were already there makin' me feel safe. The war again? Still tryin' to decide whether or not to go back and fight?"
Even after all this time, he was amazed how his wife was always been able to read his mind no matter how hard he tried to hide what worried him. He simply nodded then glanced over at the paper.
Lou cupped his face, turning it so she could look into his. "Kid, you've always had to try and do what's right. If goin' back and fightin' is what you feel is right, then you have to go."
"I can't leave ya, Lou. It ain't right, we've only been married six months. What would people say?"
"Kid, the only people who matter know you. They know this is tearing you apart. They won't think any less of you no matter what you decide. I'm gonna to fix some coffee." She stood up and headed towards the kitchen, turning her head she smiled and said, "I love you Kid."
"I love you too, Lou. I always have."
Lou entered the kitchen and crossed to the sink so she could look out the window. She knew Kid was having a hard time deciding whether or not to go back to Virginia to fight because of her.
If he only knew, she thought placing a hand over her slightly rounded stomach.
Rachel had told Lou she was not going to be able to hide her secret much longer, especially from Kid, and Lou knew she was right. Even the other night when they were having supper with their remaining express family that had stayed around, Teaspoon had commented on how well Lou was finally growing out of her scrawny body. She passed it off as married life agreeing with her, but when she saw the twinkle in his eye, she knew she wasn't fooling him.
As much as she wanted Kid to choose staying home, she could not bear to have him make that choice out of duty. She knew he would insist on staying because of the baby, but she did not want him to regret the decision later on.
Lou finished making the coffee and carried two mugs back to the dining room. Kid was still at the table, but had his head in his hands.
"Here you go." She handed him a mug.
Kid looked up and smiled before taking a sip. "I don't know what to do, Lou. My mind keeps tellin' me I should go back and fight for what's left of my heritage, but my heart keeps tellin' me that it's no longer a part of me."
"What's changed? Less than a year ago you said nothin' would stop you from going back when the war broke out. You didn't want anyone or anything takin' memories away from you."
"A lot's changed since then. Most important is the fact I want to start makin' new memories... with you."
"That's sweet Kid," Lou started knowing he was just saying what she wanted to hear. "But we can do that when you get back. If it means so much to you..."
Kid stood up agitated and almost knocked his chair over. He crossed to the doorframe and rested his head on the frame. "But that's just it Lou, what if I don't make it back? What if..."
"Don't talk like that; don't even think things like that! Of course you'll make it back." Lou started crying. Damn hormones! She thought. If I don't stop crying at every little thing, he's going to know.
Kid walked up and squatted in front of Lou and placed his hands over hers in her lap. "I'm sorry Lou. I didn't mean to make you cry."
"I'm okay," she sniffled, trying to stop the tears. "I just don't like it when you talk about things like that. What else has changed since then?"
"Well, when Doritha and Garth came back in to my life, I thought if they stayed, then I would have a little bit of what was left of my home here. But when I found out what Garth had been up to, and then when Doritha died tryin' to save me, I realized they weren't how I remembered them from my childhood. Then I started thinkin' that maybe a lot of things I'd thought weren't how I remembered them. And then I think about Noah, and I feel like I should be out there fightin'. Problem is I ain't so sure if it's for the right reasons anymore."
"It's a war Kid, is there a right reason?"
Kid shook his head. "What should I do Lou?"
"Kid, only you can make that decision. But either way I'll support you."
"You ain't makin' this any easier for me. But then again, when have you ever made anything easy for me?"
Both laughed and Kid rested his head in her lap. Lou ruffled his hair realizing that moments like this may soon be few and far between. She felt the tiny flutter in her stomach that she had been feeling more and more lately and prayed Kid had not felt it.
"Lou?" Kid asked looking at her questionably.
"Guess it's later than I thought. I'm starvin' and my stomach seems to be growlin'. I should be getting breakfast together," she pushed him away and hurried in to the kitchen.
Kid watched her leave the room. She had been acting strange for the past few months and he could not figure out why. Sure the move to their new home had been stressful, and his indecision about the war was driving them both crazy, but it was not like her to get so emotional. He knew she was hiding something from him and he was determined to find out what it was. He got up and followed her.
"Lou, what's goin' on?" When she refused to turn and look at him, he crossed to her and turned her towards him. The tears in her eyes broke his heart. "If it's upsettin' you this much, I'll stay home."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You've been walkin' around here the last coupla weeks an emotional wreck. Are you sorry we got married?"
Lou shook her head. "Kid, I've never been happier."
"Than what is it?"
Lou shrugged. It was killing her inside not to tell him about the new life they had created. A life that was a part of him and she would still have if he choose to go back and fight.
"I'm just anxious that's all. It's hard to plan for our future when I don't know if you're gonna be here a month from now."
"I know Lou. I promise I'll make a decision soon okay? While your fixin' breakfast, I'm going to feed the horses."
Lou nodded as he walked out the back door and headed towards the barn.
After feeding Katy and Lightning, Kid sat down on a bale of hay to think. He knew he was not being fair to Lou or to himself. Every time he had come close to a decision on way or the other, something would happen that would make him doubt it.
What worried him now was Lou's odd behavior. He knew it was more than just his decision that was worrying her, but she refused talk to him about it. He loved her more than anything, and being apart from her would be the hardest thing for him. He remembered the pain he went through when they broke up, and realized he could not go through that again.
His heart had been right all along. Virginia may have once been his home, but now his home was where ever Lou was.
The quarter moon offered scant light as Buck made his way across the yard toward the barn. But he had worked on the Gimble ranch for nearly a year now, and he knew the yard well, so it wasn’t a problem. Both bunkhouses were dark, the men asleep. And so far he hadn’t raised any alarm among the animals.
He reached the barn and slid the bolt back, then pulled the door open just far enough to slip inside. He started in, then hesitated, looking up at the house. It was dark, quiet, peaceful . . .
That wouldn’t last, not when morning came.
Not for the first time, he hesitated, wondering if he was doing the right thing.
He’d found a good job here, working with a good group of men. Edmund Gimble had been a fair boss. With Gimble’s support, he’d even been accepted in town – more or less. Given the struggle he’d always had to fit into the white world, it had seemed like a sound decision to stay. It was the best home he’d found since the Pony Express broke up over a year before.
Until Marie showed up.
Marie, with her obsidian-black curls, and sparkling blue eyes. Marie, with her eastern education, her easy laugh . . .
Her absolute acceptance of him.
He’d gone to town with Edmund the day she arrived on the stage, and from that first introduction they’d developed a friendship. Despite their disparate backgrounds, they found common interests. And he discovered new interests through her, like poetry, and walks through a meadow filled with wildflowers.
If only it had remained a simple friendship.
Even now, he wasn’t sure exactly when things had changed, or where they were headed. What he did know was that he cared too much for Marie to continue down the path. She deserved so much more.
So here he was, leaving in the middle of the night, without even collecting his last pay. He’d slipped into the house earlier and slid a note under her door, saying goodbye.
It was better this way.
And they’d never actually said the word love out loud.
Distracted by his thoughts, he never sensed the other people in the barn – not until the first one had him in a vice-like grip from behind. He tried to struggle, but more hands joined the first in holding him, and then a burlap bag was lowered over his head. Ropes bound his wrists and legs, and there was nothing he could do.
When they threw him over the horse, all without saying a word, and then started off . . .
That’s when he knew fear.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Hanging upside down over the horse, blood rushing to his head, Buck lost all track of time, and yet he had a feeling they hadn’t traveled far when the horse came to a stop. Within moments hands pulled him roughly to the ground, carried him a few feet, and then lowered him down.
He heard footsteps retreating, and he took a deep breath. It wasn’t quite in relief, though he had more than half expected a beating.
Why else would he have been dragged away in the middle of the night?
His moved his fingers behind his back, surprised in a way when they touched wood beneath him. A floor then, he was inside somewhere.
But where?
And was he alone? He thought he sensed breathing, a slight movement behind him.
“A letter?”
Marie? Buck twisted around to face where the voice came from, ignoring for the moment that the bag still covered his eyes.
Just then he felt hands pulling the burlap up, and he blinked as the light hit his eyes. In the glow of a lantern he could make out her dark curls as she leaned over him.
“You were just going to leave like that, with a letter?”
The ropes fell away from his wrists as she undid the knots and Buck pushed himself to a seated position, reaching to undo the restraints around his ankles. It gave him something to do while he considered an answer. “I thought I’d be gone before you found that,” he said softly, not really giving an answer anyway.
“I got up to get a drink and stepped on it,” Marie explained. She sat down at a small table.
Buck tossed the last rope aside, but he didn’t get up right away. Instead, he looked around, finally recognizing the interior of the line shack at the far end of the main pasture. Then his eyes met Marie’s and all thoughts of line shacks disappeared.
He loved her.
But that didn’t change anything.
“It’s better if I leave,” he said finally, not sure which of them needed to be convinced more.
“And how do you figure that?” she demanded.
Her tone of voice, and the way she sat with her arms folded tight, told him clearly how angry she was. And it wasn’t as though he could blame her. “You deserve better.”
“What?”
“You deserve better than a half-breed.” Somehow the words sounded much more painful when said out loud instead of put in writing.
She was shaking her head. “Buck Cross, you are the kindest, gentlest, most caring man I’ve ever known.”
He matched her movement, shaking his own head. “You don’t understand,” he pleaded, wanting her to understand. Wanting her to know it was better that he left now before she was hurt in other ways. “Most people only see my Kiowa half, and they’re afraid,” he started.
“Is that all you think I see?”
He shook his head again. “No.”
“And do you think I’m afraid of you?”
He felt a lump in his throat as he even considered that possibility. “No.”
“I don’t understand, Buck. Why were you leaving me?”
“You deserve better,” he repeated. “You don’t know what I’ve seen, how people react to me.”
“You’ve never told me,” she said softly. “But I’ve seen the sadness in your eyes.”
That surprised him; he thought he’d been so clever in hiding past pain from her. “They see me as less than white,” he whispered. “Less than a man.”
“I know differently,” Marie responded. “My parents know, the men you work with know.”
But that wasn’t the same as asking her to share his life. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You leaving in the middle of the night hurt.”
She said it very simply, and the words stabbed his heart. “I never meant to fall in love with you,” he said, finally saying the word. “I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
A soft gasp marked her reaction to his words. She stood up, taking a step toward him. “Love just happens, Buck,” she said slowly. “That’s how I fell in love with you too.”
He looked up in surprise. “You . . . you love me?” He’d had far more experience with hate in his life. But how had he missed that?
She gave him a sad smile. “I have for a while now,” she admitted. “I just knew there was something . . . Something wrong. So I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“And tonight . . .”
“I saw the letter, and I got the men from the other bunkhouse to help me,” she said. “I knew I couldn’t let you leave like that. Not without telling you that I loved you.”
He wasn’t sure what to say, and his eyes wandered as he considered his reply. He saw one of the ropes and picked it up. “You kidnapped me!” An odd way to show love . . .
Her smile widened as she came closer and knelt next to him. “Haven’t you heard?” she whispered, her lips near his ear. “All’s fair in love and war.”
He turned to look at her and she leaned closer. Their lips met, and then his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight.
A million thoughts seemed to flood his mind – like how foolish he’d been to try and leave like that, and how much he wanted this to work.
How much he loved her.
And as the kiss between them deepened, war was the farthest thing from his mind.
It was tough being a woman in the West. Comforts that might be plentiful back East, hadn’t made it this far yet. The land was more open, neighbors were farther away, and just because the man of the house wasn’t there didn’t mean the chores went away. Eggs needed gathering, cows needed milking, and the barn didn’t muck itself and the animals were locked in their pens with no way to get food except from someone willing to climb into the hayloft and pitch down their feed. When the fence needed to be fixed, she couldn’t hire someone to fix it because everyone else was busy with their own places, and she wouldn’t have the money anyways.
So she did the best she could, waking up before the sun to start the chores. Because it wasn’t just those tasks that needed to be dealt with, there were the things inside the house she was responsible for. Cooking, cleaning, washing, mending, tending to the children. Food didn’t magically appear on her table, clothes didn’t clean themselves overnight; everything that had to be done, she did it herself. Because there were other people depending on her, people that she couldn’t let down.
Their father had already disappointed them; she couldn’t be the next one.
So even when it was cold, or wet, or miserably hot, she got up, got out of bed and began another day. Even when she was sick, she took care of everyone. Breakfast to supper, from morning prayer to evening, she ran the house the best she could. If the windows were a little dirty, or their clothes were a little shabby, there wasn’t much she could do. Survival took precedence over beauty.
The slamming of the door startled her, and the knife in her hand slipped through the potato and into her thumb. The offending items were dropped and she reached for a towel, wrapping it quickly around her digit and watching with dismay as red bloomed on the cloth like a rose in the snow. That stain would never come out, and so she’d either have to live with it, or throw it away. Sadly, she didn’t have the money to replace it.
“Where is everyone?”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. It was never a good thing when he came home this early. It meant the bars had thrown him out and refused to service him until he paid his tab. He’d be mean, he’d be surly and he’d only be half drunk. There would be no blessed reprieve from him passing out.
“Didn’t you hear me, woman?” he slurred as he came into the kitchen. “Where is everyone?”
“The children are at school,” she told him, squeezing her thumb to staunch the flow of blood.
“What do they need schoolin’ for?” he demanded in a rage. “They’re just gonna end up dirt farmers or mas, what do they need to learn to read and write for that? They should be here doin’ chores.”
“They’re children, Charles,” she said softly. “They should be in school. They do their chores when they come home.”
What she wouldn’t say to him was that she wanted them to go to school so that they could be more than just dirt farmers or wives who had to deal with dirt farmers. She wanted better for her children. A better life than the one she was stuck in.
“Don’t contradict me,” he bellowed at her, grabbing a chair at the table and pulling it out with a jerk so he could sit down. “And what are you doin’ standin’ around for? You’ve got things to do.”
Lifting the towel off her thumb she checked to see if the bleeding stopped. Thankfully it had and the cut wasn’t too deep. Reaching for the knife and potato again, she resumed peeling the skin off so it could be added to the pot. Her husband liked mashed potatoes and even if he was hardly ever around to eat supper with them, she always kept a plate warm on the stove. If there weren’t mashed potatoes on it, she knew he would yell and wake everyone up, no matter the time. With him being home for dinner, she knew the potatoes better be done on time and just the way he liked them. Which meant she needed to get back to work.
“Still don’t see what they need schoolin’ for,” Charles continued to grumble. “I knew my place and that was in the fields beside my pa. What good does readin’ do when you’re walkin’ behind a horse?”
She kept her head down, and focused on the potatoes. It was better that way. He’d talk himself out sooner or later, and she would avoid a fight with him.
With a grumble, Charles broke the silence, “What’s there to eat around here, woman? I’m hungry.”
She dropped the potato in the pot and reached for another one. “There’s some chicken from last night in the icebox. You like cold chicken.”
“I don’t want cold chicken,” he dismissed her idea. “I want something hot, something real.”
A hand slammed down on the table and she jumped slightly, looking over her shoulder at him. Charles looked angry and she wondered what she’d done to set him off like this. “What are you standin’ there for?” he demanded. “Fix me somethin’ to eat.”
“I’m finishing up the potatoes,” she told him. “I know you like your potatoes and if I don’t get them on the stove soon, they won’t be ready for supper.”
“Stupid, lazy woman,” he slurred at her angrily. “Always unprepared and unable to do your job. It’s not my fault you didn’t have your work done for supper. I’m hungry; fix me some food.”
Hopefully if she fed him he would wander off and do something, maybe even fall asleep and then he wouldn’t notice if dinner was a little later. She put down the potato and was about to reach for a pan to fry him something up quickly, when Charles grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.
“Don’t ignore me, woman!” His breath reeked of cheap whiskey and she realized that maybe he was more drunk than she originally thought. “I told you to fix me some food. It’s your job. Don’t think you can disobey me.”
The first blow glanced off the side of her face as Charles struck at her while spinning her. She raised her hands to protect herself, to try to push him away and assure him that she would work on his food. But he reached for her again, and she watched with confusion as his face was covered with surprise and then contorted in pain.
“You stabbed me!” he yelled and pushed her back into the stove. The hot metal struck her back and she instinctively curled her body away from it and watched as Charles staggered back, the knife she’d been cutting the potatoes with sticking out of his chest. How did that get there?
He grabbed the knife and pulled it out, the utensil falling to the floor while blood seeped out onto his shirt. She grabbed the towel and rushed towards him. “Charles, Charles…I’m so sorry. I don’t know…”
He sagged to his knees, slumping down onto the floor, and she followed him. Kneeling down and trying to hold the towel to his chest. They’d get the bleeding stopped, it just needed pressure. But he shoved her hands away and told her to leave him alone. He didn’t know what he was saying. It was the liquor and the pain; she dodged his blows and tried to press the towel to the wound once again.
It was useless though. Charles wouldn’t stop bleeding. And as the stove hissed and spit from the water boiling over in the pot of potatoes, her husband died on the kitchen floor.
She met her children on the porch after school. She’d changed her dress and wrapped a shawl around herself, cold and unable to get warm despite the Indian Summer. She thought about going to town for help, but she barely had the strength to unbutton her dress, she couldn’t have saddled a horse or hitched a wagon. Plus, she didn’t want her children to arrive home and see their father lying lifeless in the kitchen.
“Ma?” the oldest boy asked as they approached, carrying their lunch pails and school books. “Ma? Are you alright?”
“You need to go to town,” she told them in a low voice. “Go to town and get the marshal.”
“Ma?” At twelve he was tall and strong and had dealt with too many things for his tender age. He’d often offered to stay home from school and help her out, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Why should he suffer for his father’s shortcomings? He tried to take care of the family, but this wasn’t something he needed to deal with. “Ma, what’s going on?”
“Take your brother and sister back to town,” she told him, “and tell the marshal I need to see him.”
He didn’t understand, and he didn’t like it, but thankfully he didn’t argue. He turned his brother and sister around, and they made the trek back to town. She watched them until they disappeared over the horizon, and wrapped the shawl tighter around herself.
“Mrs. Dunlevy?”
She heard the voice, but it sounded so far away until the hand rested lightly on her shoulder. Blinking, she slowly cleared her eyes and focused on the silver-haired marshal standing by her side.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” Marshal Hunter asked. “Your boy said you told him to come fetch me.”
She slowly stood from the chair she’d brought outside, and tightened the wrap around her. Turning the handle on the door, she went inside, the marshal and his deputy following behind.
“I don’t know how it happened,” she said softly, her voice detached as she led them to the kitchen. “He came home early today, and he was drunk, and he was mean. He wanted me to fix him something to eat and so I stopped peeling the potatoes for supper and then…then he came up and grabbed me and he hit me and I turned and then….then the knife was in his chest. I don’t know how it got there. I had it my hand and then it was just…it was sticking out of him.”
She stopped in the doorway and the marshal continued on into the kitchen, stopping by Charles’ body. “He pulled it out and I tried to hold a towel to him…to stop the blood but he pushed me away. Then he fell and I was finally able to hold the towel on him. I’d cut my finger earlier while peeling the potatoes so it already had blood on it, it wouldn’t ruin the towel…I tried to put pressure on it, that always stops the blood when I cut myself in the kitchen. But it didn’t stop and he just…he just…”
“Jimmy,” Marshal Hunter said softly to his deputy. “Why don’t you help Mrs. Dunlevy sit down?”
“Ma’am,” the younger man said, gently taking her elbow and helping her into the front room. “Ma’am, why don’t you sit down? Can I…can I get you a glass of water?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. They were going to arrest her. She’d killed her husband. She knew it would happen, but she’d sent her children to get the marshal anyways. Would her children be sent to an orphanage? There wasn’t any family around here to send them to. What was going to happen to them?
“Mrs. Dunlevy?”
The marshal’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Mrs. Dunlevy, we’re going to have the undertaker come get your husband’s body. Why don’t you pack a bag for you and your children?”
She nodded in understanding and when she emerged a few moments later with the carpetbag, the deputy stepped forward to relieve her of the burden. She wanted to tell him that she’d carried heavier things than that, but her muscles weren’t working right today and she was glad to turn it over to someone else.
“What’s going to happen to my children?” she asked as the marshal took her elbow and escorted her out of the house, closing the door behind them.
“I’m going to ask Rachel Dunne if she’ll let you stay with her for a couple of days, at least until the funeral.”
“Me?” she asked as she turned to look at him. “Not just my children?”
He turned a kind smile her way and said, “Of course you’d stay with your children. You shouldn’t stay here alone right now.”
When they reached the wagon, he helped her climb up and then joined her on the seat. “Mrs. Dunlevy,” he told her. “What happened here today was a nothing more than a terrible tragedy, not something I’m going to put you in jail for. Now let’s go get your children, they were mighty worried about you.”
As the wagon pulled away from the house, she looked at it and no longer felt dread, so no longer felt trapped there. She didn’t know what she and her children would do, but she knew that somehow they’d make a home together. A real home full of love and possibilities. She felt it was possible now, not because of the tragedy that befell Charles, but because of the kindness shown to her by the marshal. She wasn’t going to jail; she was going to be with her family. And somehow they’d find a way.