Author's note.

This is part of the Lighting the Trail Before Us series on the Writers's Ranch. You might like to read the prompt before beginning this story. Also, I know that the Bible used at this time would have been the King James Version, but I've taken the liberty of using the New King James Version which brings out what I wanted to say a little clearer.

This is set in first season, sometime after the events depicted in 'Daddy's Girl'.

"Buck! Buck!" Emma's voice echoed through the yard, finally reaching the young Kiowa rider.

"Yes, Emma?" Buck closed the corral gate behind him and headed towards the house. "What do you want?"

"I need to see you inside, Buck. C'mon in," Emma answered, holding the door open and beckoning him in. Buck went in, took off his hat and coat, and waited.

Inside, Emma started to pour the tea she had made. "Set yourse'f down, Buck. I want to talk to you." She poured the tea, then joined the rider at the table. "This is nice. I don't get to talk to you all as much as I'd like."

The small talk didn't reassure Buck at all. He'd known this was coming ever since he broke up with Kathleen Devlin; Emma cared for them all so much she couldn't help interfering now and then. But with all the best intentions in the world, it was still interfering. He took the teacup and saucer, added sugar, and began to stir. Finally, he asked "What is it, Emma?"

"I just wanted to see how you are. I know you got hurt pretty bad by Kathleen. I just wanted to see if you was alright, that's all," the Pony Express Waystation owner and cook replied.

The answer came quickly, finally. "I'm fine." Emma just sipped her tea, waiting. When the silence became uncomfortably long, Buck continued. "I mean, yes, it hurt, but I'm over it now. I'm fine."

"Well, that's good, Buck," Emma said quietly. "I was worried about you; seems like love can hurt a body worse'n anything else." She continued sipping her tea, waiting for the boy to speak again. Her patience was rewarded when the usually reticent Kiowa spoke.

"It did, Emma. I never knew anything could hurt so bad." Buck's head hung over the cup in his hand, his eyes downcast, hiding his deepest emotions from the woman he knew was a true friend. Trust didn't come easily to the half-blood Kiowa; it had been betrayed too often, too recently.

"What happened, Buck? I never heard the whole story."

He told the story of Kathleen's betrayal, her abuse of his trust and love and her willingness to hurt anyone at all. Even though he spoke quietly, the hurt was plain in his expressive baritone voice and he was glad of the tea which lubricated his throat and at times gave him an excuse to pause. "The worst part, Emma, was that she only wanted me because I was 'exotic'; I wasn't a person, just an Indian. It was different, but it was the same old story. The half-breed doesn't have feelings like real people." His words belied the bitterness in his voice.

Emma thought before she spoke. "Maybe that was why she was interested at the start, but I don't think anybody, white, red or any other colour, matters to Kathleen Devlin, except Kathleen Devlin herse'f. Some people are like that, Buck. They use others instead of he'ping them like we are meant to." She finished her tea, placing the cup on the saucer.

"I know, Emma, I've known it all my life." For the first time, Buck started to tell Emma the circumstances of his birth, how his mother was raped by an unknown white man, and he was the result. Her brown eyes filled with tears as she listened in silence, her compassion for the boy she thought of as her own, and the mother who suffered so much in bearing him, showing on her face. He told her of his life in the Kiowa village, of the beatings, taunts and hatred he had endured for being 'white'. He continued, "Emma, in the Kiowa village I was white; here I'm a dirty Injun. I didn't deserve to live like this, never belonging to anyone." Suddenly he stopped, biting his lip. He'd never been so open before about his feelings, especially to a woman.

"You belong here, Buck. You got a family that cares for you now."

"I know, Emma. I just... I'd better go and get that forge lit, I've got to shoe that new mustang before Teaspoon gets back." Buck changed the subject quickly, and almost ran out the door. Emma's eyes followed him as he walked across the yard.

A few days later, Emma caught up with Buck as he mucked out the stables. "Buck, I want you to read this," she said, handing him the Bible that he had recently received, as did all employees, from Russell, Majors and Waddell. It had been at the bottom of his things, and had obviously never been opened.

Buck's eyes widened as he recognised the book Emma held out to him. "Emma, I know the Bible means a lot to you, but..." His hand wandered unconciously to his medicine pouch.

"I know Buck, and I ain't trying to stop you believing what you believe. I just keep thinking about these parts, and maybe they'll help you a little. Buck, when I was younger I did some things that I ain't proud of, and I stopped believing in myse'f. One day, after things started to change, a friend shared these verses with me, and it he'ped me start to see things different. Maybe they'll he'p you, maybe they won't. Cain't see they'll hurt, though. I marked 'em so's you could find them when you're ready." Emma held out the Bible confidently.

Buck took it, his eyes full of doubt. "Emma, I ain't gonna lie to you. Maybe I'll read them, maybe not. I ain't makin' any promises."

"Good,' Emma said firmly. "I don't want no lies from you, Buck Cross." She turned and went out, leaving Buck holding the Bible. He put it down, and continued his work, but the black book on the haybale near him seemed to call to him. Eventually he put the pitchfork down, and opened the Bible at the pages marked, and read.

Buck knocked on the door of Emma's small white house, and entered at her cheery "Come in!"

"Why, Buck. What can I do for you?" Emma asked, surprised and pleased that he was holding the Bible. She shifted the stew she had been stirring to the side of the stove so it wouldn't burn while she talked to Buck.

"Emma, I read those parts like you said, and I think I understand, but I just wanted to make sure." Buck's embarrassment was evident as he spoke.

"Let's sit down, and I'll help if I can," Emma smiled encouragingly.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you , says the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil to give you a future and a hope. (Jer 29:11)

O Lord, You have searched me and known me. You know my sitting down and my rising up; You understand my thought afar off. You comprehend my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word on my tongue, But behold O Lord, You know it altogether. You have hedged me behind and before, and laid Your hand upon me. ... For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb. ... My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them. (Ps. 139:1-5, 13, 15-6)

"Are you saying there's a reason I'm a half-breed?" Buck determinedly used the racial slur about himself - sometimes it was the only term that communicated not only his background, but all the derogatory lies and false beliefs about it as well." A reason my mother was raped?" His anger, though controlled, was clear.

"Buck, I don't have any answers for you. All I know is that God knew you and had a plan for you even before this world was made. He loved you then, and loves you now. He loved your mother, and I believe that He grieved for her pain.. He knew you would be born, and how. Maybe there's a reason you were born a part of two worlds; maybe you were just born to be a friend to Ike and help save the others as I know you have. I don't know. But at least if you know there's maybe a purpose to this, maybe you can keep hunting for it. Knowing that Someone loves you, no matter what you've done, and forgives you, helps too."

"Did you find it?" the young man asked quietly. "A reason?"

"I think I'm finding it every day, with you boys, and Sam. Maybe for some people it just unfolds one day at a time, maybe you never know it all at once. But I'm enjoying the finding out."

Buck thought about that. "Thanks Emma. I don't know that I believe it like you do, but thanks." He left and closed the door behind him.

"You're welcome, Buck," Emma said softly as she turned back to the stew.

©2003 by Kathy Savige. May not be reproduced in any way without permission. Email the author