Maggie Seaborn had eyes the golden brown of maple leaves, and sometimes, when she stared at him in just the right way, Kid felt she could see straight down into his soul. It wasn't that she tried very hard. Kid doubted she even realized the full effect of that penetrating gaze, but sometimes it nearly rendered him speechless. When she looked at him like that, she seemed to be searching for something, searching deep into his soul, where he could hide nothing from her. And even though she invariably looked away, and undoubtedly didn't see what she was looking for, Kid nevertheless was left feeling he had been stripped of the protective layers surrounding him. Maggie Seaborn's eyes could have that effect on him.
She was looking at him like that when Teaspoon introduced him to Lou McCloud.
Lou was a small thing easily dwarfed by his fellow Express riders. He peered out at Kid through wire-framed glasses, a curious expression on his face, then glanced at Maggie, who was watching him sharply in turn. To Kid's surprise, when Lou's eyes met Maggie's, he looked away almost immediately, coloring an embarrassed red.
"Nice to meet you," Lou mumbled, darting over to the table where Rachel Dunne, the station mistress, had laid out a hearty supper.
"Well," Rachel said with a cheerful smile, "now that we're all acquainted, let's eat."
Several minutes of the usual suppertime sounds followed - forks and spoons clattering against plates, bowls banging down onto the table, the subdued sounds of chewing. For a moment Kid just took it all in.
There were five Express riders stationed here in Rock Creek, and miraculously they were all present for Kid and Maggie's arrival. They were all about Kid's age and seemed pleasant enough. Even Jimmy was friendly once his dour mood wore off; he was polite to Kid and even managed to smile at Maggie once or twice.
Kid's gaze slid around the table from face to face, trying, as was a journalist's natural instinct, to size up his subjects. Even if he turned out to be wrong, it was always interesting to compare and contrast his first, initial impression with the one that would form later. Kid began to make mental notes, jotting them down in his head as he would later do on paper.
"So - 'Kid', is it?" Rachel asked, interrupting the silence.
Maggie opened her mouth to volunteer further information, shutting it abruptly after a swift, subtle kick from Kid under the table. She settled on covering her mouth with her napkin to stifle her laughter.
Kid shot Maggie a warning look, laughter lurking behind his eyes. "Yes, ma'am. 'Kid' is just fine."
"Well Kid, how did you and Miss Seaborn find your journey?"
"Long and wet, when it wasn't long and boring," supplied Maggie, to everyone's amusement.
"About like that," agreed Kid.
"Well, why in the world didn't you take the stage? It would have been easier on you, and it certainly would have been easier on Miss Seaborn."
Kid felt all eyes resting on him with interest. "Well, uh..."
"Go on, Kid," urged Maggie. "Go on and tell them how you declined the paper's offer of an all expenses-paid trip by stage and train in favor of draggin' me through every godforsaken town from Denver to Rock Creek." Her tone was taunting, but there was obvious affection behind her dig. The boys were all amused; this young woman had a lively spark to her.
"You're from Denver?" Buck Cross asked curiously.
Maggie suddenly puffed up with pleasure. "Yes, we are. Prettiest city this side of the Rockies."
"Which is beside the point," Kid reminded her. "The reason we rode," he said firmly," was to get the full effect of the trail you boys ride over the Pony Express route."
"You mean you rode the trail all the way here?" asked William Cody. He was suitably impressed.
"Yes," answered Maggie," and apart from the fact that it was a hideous detour, I'd say we made good time."
"You're not impressed with the route, Miss Seaborn?" Jimmy grinned amid the laughter.
Maggie smiled at him. "The route is quite lovely, Mr Hickok, but I'm afraid it didn't sit well with DC's -"
"Maggie, don't," interrupted Kid.
"DC?" ventured Lou.
"It's a nickname," Kid responded abruptly.
Maggie's brown eyes danced. "It stands for -"
"It stands for DC," retorted Kid.
"Well, it don't stand for 'Kid', that's for sure," she answered with false sweetness.
Jimmy snorted into his mug.
Teaspoon cleared his throat, more entertained than he cared to let on. He fought back a smile and said, "So Kid, you reckon you're goin' to start your writin' tomorrow?"
Kid's handsome face grew bright with eagerness. "I was hopin' to," he replied, turning his attention to the riders with a friendly smile. "I'd like the chance to talk with each of you boys, kinda get a feel for what each of you brings to the team. Maybe even go along on a run."
Maggie looked up sharply from her plate. "Kid, you know you can't overdo it like that."
"I just said 'maybe'," he answered with an exasperated sigh. "You worry too much, Maggie."
"I worry? That's pretty funny comin' from you."
Lou and Rachel exchanged a look.
"If I didn't worry about you, Li'l Bit, you sure wouldn't worry about yourself."
Maggie's lips twitched. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means if it weren't for me you'd still be sittin' in the mud with your skirt up over your head!"
A short, staccato burst of laughter escaped from Maggie's lips. She clamped her hand over her mouth abruptly and muffled her giggles as best she could. She looked around at the shocked faces of their dinner companions. "Kid," she hissed in a stage whisper. "That didn't sound terribly proper!"
There was a pause for a moment, and then an explosion of laughter from all around the table. And just like that, the strain of proper etiquette melted away like snow in the sunshine. Soon there was more laughter and easy chatter, with none of the forced politeness of before.
Maggie had that effect on people.
***
After supper Maggie found Kid sitting on the bunkhouse porch, scribbling away in his beloved notebook as the sun faded into the horizon. The rain had finally let up and a warm heaviness had spread over the land. Water dripped lazily down from the rooftops. She leaned over to press a kiss to his sandy curls and he grinned up at her.
"Well, if it ain't Miss Table Manners herself."
Maggie grinned impishly and settled next to him on the bench. She gathered her skirts up, tucking them underneath her, and curled up close to Kid. "I'm not the one who commented on me with my skirt over my head."
He laughed and continued writing. "You know you bring out the worst in me, Maggie Seaborn."
He hadn't lifted his head from his notebook, and so he missed the expression of hurt that crossed over Maggie's features. She moved her head from his shoulder and gazed out at the land around them. Lou McCloud, Buck Cross, and Ike McSwain were all standing by the barn, laughing and chatting like the best of friends.
"What are you writing?" she asked.
"A little sketch on Lou McCloud." Kid paused then, tapping his pencil against his lips. "There's somethin' about him I can't put my finger on."
Maggie stared at him incredulously. "Somethin' like the fact that the 'him' is a 'her?' she wanted to say, but she bit the words back and settled on shaking her head at her fiancé as he watched Lou keenly. For all his sharp instincts and natural curiosity, Kid could be remarkably dense sometimes. Had the facts completely escaped him? Lou McCloud had the walk of a woman, however much she tried to hide it, a sensitive curve to her lips no man could possess, and a distinct softness to her voice that you would have had to be a fool to miss.
"He looked at me kinda funny, too."
Apparently Kid was that fool.
"Kept catchin' him starin' at me," Kid said. "Like he was tryin' to figure me out or somethin'."
And, Maggie reflected, Lou's visual appraisal of Kid's face and form had certainly left no doubt as to her true gender. She smiled wryly to herself; at least it could not be argued that Lou McCloud had no taste.
"Kid?"
"Hmm?"
"About Lou McCloud..."
"What about him?"
It was on the tip of her tongue. She very nearly said it. She didn't keep secrets from Kid, and it seemed like he had a right to know.
As she cast her gaze out onto the property surrounding them, Maggie's eyes met Lou's across the yard, the fading sunlight blazing behind the small young woman in spectacles and dusty men's clothes.
Maybe she was crazy, but she could have sworn there was pleading on Lou's face. Maggie realized what damage could be done if Kid was to discover the girl's secret; he was a reporter, after all.
'She must have her reasons," Maggie thought. 'And she deserves to make her own way in the world if this is what she wants to do.'
Kid had finally stopped writing and was peering at her over his shoulder. "Maggie? What about Lou McCloud?"
Maggie shook her head, clearing her mind as best she could, and smiled faintly. "Oh," she said. "Nothin'. He just seems nice is all."
"'Nice', huh?" smirked Kid. "Well, I noticed James Hickok bein' awful nice to you at supper."
She blinked in surprise. "Was he?"
"I think he fancies you."
Maggie blushed furiously. "Shut up, DC."
"I'm serious, Maggie! He kept lookin' at you all through supper." Kid chuckled and went back to his notebook. "I can't believe you didn't notice."
"Aw, go on, you know I only have eyes for you," she answered teasingly, though she meant every word.
She was answered with the sound of Kid's pencil scraping across the rough paper.
"Kid?"
He looked up. Jimmy and Cody had gathered with the others. Their laughter carried over to the porch, the warm, comfortable laughter of friends at complete ease in each other's company.
"I should go over there," Kid said. "You know, get to know 'em all better. I can't write much of an article from the porch."
She smiled at his eagerness. "You should," she urged him warmly. "I can tell you're chompin' at the bit."
"You wanna come with me?"
"Not just yet. I think I'll rest here a while."
"Tired?" he asked solicitously.
"Dog tired," she admitted. "You go on now. Git."
He stood, stretching his lanky frame luxuriantly. He dropped an affectionate kiss on Maggie's cheek. "Get some rest, Li'l Bit. You deserve it after what I put you through."
Maggie watched him descend the porch steps and amble over to the riders, thinking to herself that he didn't know the half of it. Her heart hurt just looking at him, filled to the near bursting point with so much love she could hardly breathe. She noticed the struggle with which he made his way through the mud, hindered as always by his left leg, the bane of his existence.
She could see that the riders were noticing the limp for the first time. Her breath caught for a moment as she waited for them to greet Kid, wondering how they would treat him, hoping desperately that they would be able to see past the physical handicap. She needn't have worried. Each rider merely greeted Kid loudly, slapping him heartily on the back by turn. Maggie noted that Lou McCloud sidled up to him and gazed up shyly through long lashes, engaging him in a semblance of manly conversation.
Jimmy glanced at her back on the porch and waved at her. She waved back.
"Care for some company?" asked an approaching voice.
Maggie looked over to see Rachel Dunne trudging through the mud, two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands. Though the rain had let up and the air was pleasantly damp and warm, she had wrapped herself up in a heavy shawl. Blond curls stuck to her face and neck.
"Sure," Maggie replied. "Let me make room for you."
Rachel handed her a mug and settled herself next to Maggie. "You should have come over to my house, darlin'. I've got a porch swing for just such occasions. This bench ain't made for socializin'."
"It's just fine," Maggie assured her, eyes still glued to Kid, who was now walking with Jimmy and Lou toward the corral.
"I don't know what those boys think they can accomplish in the dark," remarked Rachel with a laugh. "But you know men."
Maggie glanced sideways at the woman next to her. Was Rachel really trying to imply she didn't know Lou was a girl? Or was she merely hoping Maggie herself hadn't noticed?
"You'd think Lou could talk some sense into them," she answered finally, slowly choosing her words. She sipped at her drink. "Don't those boys know it's best to listen to a woman?"
There was a moment of silence from Rachel. She traced the rim of her mug with her fingertip. "So you figured it out, huh?" she replied, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Reckoned you were smart enough."
"I thought I could say the same for Kid, but he's got no idea," grinned Maggie.
Rachel turned to her in surprise. "He's supposed to be a reporter and he didn't figure out Lou's a girl?"
Maggie's lips curled into an mischievous smile. "He told me there was somethin' he couldn't put his finger on. He couldn't figure out why Lou was lookin' at him all night."
"Oh Lord! She was starin', wasn't she?" Rachel threw her head back and giggled like a schoolgirl. She cast a swift look in Maggie's direction, privately wondering at the girl's light-hearted mention of Lou's obvious attraction to her fiancé.
"Can't say I blame her," admitted Maggie, though it twisted her heart to speak so casually about a subject which she suspected would begin eating away at her the longer they stayed in Rock Creek. "And he's certainly got his good points. He's handsome and he's smart and he takes good care of me. But he snores fit to beat the band and sometimes I think he loves his horse more'n he loves me. He sure isn't perfect."
"Nobody said he had to be perfect. Long as you love him and he loves you, right?" Rachel said encouragingly.
Maggie shifted uncomfortably on the bench. She had only known Rachel six hours and already the woman was touching on a subject which had plagued her mind more than she cared to admit. She smiled faintly at her and changed the subject.
***
Kid was completely and utterly fascinated by nearly everything the riders had to tell him. There were a few sensational stories from Cody, mostly involving his own astounding physical prowess and awe-inspiring capacity for reason and deduction, but otherwise they were simple yet fascinating descriptions of adventure and drama beyond his own realm of comprehension.
"I just can't believe it," he said finally, shaking his head to himself.
"Believe what?" asked Jimmy.
"I can't believe I've been stuck behind a desk in Denver writin' for a newspaper while you boys are out here livin' life."
"You're livin' life too," Lou pointed out helpfully, with another strange look that Kid couldn't quite read. "Sometimes I'd rather be behind a desk than riskin' my neck every day."
"Ah, a nine-to-five job's not much of a life, Lou. I spend my days starin' into space, tryin' to come up with an article, and dodgin' my editor when the article's finally due."
Ike McSwain's hands flew in the air and gestured in intricate patterns. Kid watched, fascinated, a half-smile on his lips. Buck translated with a laugh. "Ike says you wouldn't be so eager for our life if you were dodging bullets instead of editors."
Kid laughed in response. "All the same, if it hadn't been for this damn leg of mine I'da been out here with you fellas when the Express started up. I saw the adverts goin' up all over the place, and I sure did want to try out."
Every pair of eyes drifted without thinking, to Kid's leg which was currently propped up on a bale of hay. They stared at him curiously.
"What happened? I mean, if you don't mind me askin'," murmured Lou. Her brown eyes were fixed on Kid's leg as it lay, slightly twisted, on the hay.
From the way Kid's face grew suddenly pale and stricken, Lou guessed she had asked the wrong question. "I - I'm sorry," she hastened. "I didn't mean to -"
"No, it's all right. It was just an accident. That's all; an accident." Kid's voice was firm and hard, as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
Buck was nervous at the peculiar turn in conversation. He could see that everyone now looked slightly ill at ease, whether out of embarrassment for Lou's prying question or Kid's obvious discomfort, he wasn't sure. "Uh...what is it you're goin' to need from us for this article anyway, Kid?"
Relaxing, Kid exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He looked gratefully at Buck. "Well, I need to talk to you all and ask you a lot of questions. Things about the Express and the route, what it's like makin' runs and livin' here with everyone in the bunkhouse. Oh, I got a thousand questions to ask you fellas."
"A thousand, huh?" Jimmy's jaw tightened, his voice suddenly hard.
"Jimmy's got a thing about reporters," volunteered Lou.
"Yeah," agreed Cody slyly, "and it ain't what you'd call a mutual admiration society."
Jimmy watched Kid to gauge his reaction, waiting for the inevitable moment when his face was overtaken by what Jimmy thought of as a 'reporter's face'. That face that told Jimmy he was about to be watched, studied like some sort of creature with three heads, and pried into with a dozen questions, all thinly-veiled attempts to get the inside story on 'Wild Bill' Hickok.
"I just want to ask questions, Jimmy."
"Questions about Wild Bill?"
Kid flushed slightly and said, "I ain't here to report on Wild Bill, Jimmy, I'm here to report on the riders. But since you mentioned it, seein' as how you are Wild Bill -"
"I ain't Wild Bill. How many times do I hafta tell you damn nosey people that?"
"All right, you're not Wild Bill. Okay. But Jimmy, the fact that you have this - this reputation...well, it's interestin' for the story," Kid pointed out reasonably.
Buck, Cody, Ike, and Lou tensed, sensing the outburst that was about to emit from Jimmy. They knew his stance on journalists in general, and they couldn't really blame him. He had been on the receiving end of more than his share of grief as a result of the reputation newspapermen had invented for him.
"I don't really care what's good for your story, Kid, and quite frankly, if Teaspoon weren't makin' me, I wouldn't have nothin' to do with the damn thing."
"Well, that's awful nice of you," Kid retorted sarcastically, red creeping onto his cheeks. Jimmy extended his hands in a gesture that clearly indicated he wasn't concerned with Kid's feeling on the subject. "I'm just tellin' you how it is."
All heads turned as Teaspoon entered the barn, his figure shadowy in the lantern light. "And I'm tellin' you it won't kill you to answer a few questions, Jimmy," he said. "Just look at it as your chance to finally have your say."
Jimmy didn't reply, but grumbled under his breath.
"Come on, boys. It's late, and two of you are due out for runs tomorrow if I remember the schedule correctly. Kid, I'm seein' what I can do to send you on a run with one of the boys; I'll let you know what happens."
"Thanks, Teaspoon."
"All right. Now you boys got all day tomorrow to sit around and chew the fat. Kid, why don't you go on back to that pretty fiancée of yours? She looks about done in."
"She's tougher than she looks."
"Let me give you a piece of advice, son - no matter how strong a person is, they've always got their breaking point. A little comfort never hurt anyone."
The small group disbanded then, the riders heading for the bunkhouse and Kid making his precarious way to Rachel's. Teaspoon watched them all go, leaning against the door of the barn, the lantern in his hand. Kid's limp was pronounced, an awkward, strained detriment to his walk, most likely not helped by the strenuous journey he had just endured. He climbed up the steps and knocked on Rachel's door, rubbing his leg as if it ached.
And Lou watched from the bunkhouse porch.
***
10 April 1861
Maggie and I have at last arrived in Rock Creek. It rained a great deal the last two days of our journey, and we very nearly didn't make it today. Teaspoon Hunter, the local sheriff who oversees the Rock Creek riders, was at the hotel at the very moment Maggie and I needed him most. He offered to let us stay out here at the station, and so Maggie and I are here now.
There are five riders, each about my own age.
James Hickok - already has the reputation as Wild Bill, but by all accounts, including his own, that is not a title he fancies. He's reserved, does not seem to easily trust, but he has already warmed to Maggie.
Ike McSwain - a mute, completely bald. Has very expressive eyes. Speaks with his hands in Indian sign.
Buck Cross - an Indian, half-Kiowa. I sense he forms his opinions very slowly. I feel he is watching me, seeing how I react, paying close attention to what I say and do. It is not entirely unpleasant to think he is as inquisitive as I am.
William Cody - mischief incarnate. If I were to believe half of what he tells me I would think him by far the greatest man ever to take a breath of life. He weaves a tale like a spider weaves its web. An altogether likeable fellow.
Lou McCloud - the runt of the litter. A small fellow who watches me even more closely than Buck. There is something perplexing about him. He is not at all like the others.
Maggie seems well, though quieter than usual. I hope she is not ill. She was a trouper all during our journey, hardly complained at all though she pretended to. I don't know what I would have done without her. It seems like she has been there by my side all our lives, doing just as she has for weeks now - pushing me onward, making me laugh, reminding me why I'm here. I owe her so much.
She seems to have an aversion to Lou McCloud, though. I must remember to ask her about it in the morning.