Kid woke early the next morning, the pearly sunlight streaming through the curtains onto his face. The bunkhouse was nearly silent, the only sounds the steady breathing of the riders around him, and the sweet chirping of the birds outside.
He shifted onto his side and his body groaned in protest. Every aching limb and muscle was telling him he had just finished a strenuous journey and deserved to sleep, but his mind was racing too fast. Too many thoughts were tangling in his head, and as he confronted his very first day with the Pony Express riders, the excitement became too much for him. However tired he was, he knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep today. Not when there was so much out there to discover, and more importantly, so much to write.
He clambered out of the bunk and began to dress, slipping into his clothes as quietly as he could. The sun was rising higher now; its warmth and brightness were like a miracle after so many days of rain.
Moving cautiously across the floor in his stockinged feet, Kid gathered his shoes, pencil, and notebook, and stepped out into the cool morning. He was met with the gentlest of spring breezes cascading across his face. The air was still thick from all the rain, but it was warming steadily under the sun. Spring seemed to be here at last.
Kid pulled on his boots and seated himself on the hard bench. He flipped his notebook open and for a moment just sat and smiled at the profound beauty of the day. Rain was lovely and refreshing, but after more than a day or two of it, you tended to forget there was ever such a thing as sunshine.
Sighing contentedly, Kid began writing, feeling the smooth, comforting motions of pencil across paper, the quiet ease which always settled over him when he was writing. He was so engrossed he didn’t even hear the bunkhouse door opening, and Lou stood there for several minutes before he even realized she was there.
Lou took the opportunity to appraise him further. She had been unable to do so the evening before, wary of his fiancée’s watching eyes and the teasing she would endure if any of the boys caught on that she was looking in the first place.
He was so handsome her breath caught in her throat. From his thick, sandy curls to his bright, blue eyes, to the thin smile that lit his face, he had made her head spin since the moment they had been introduced. He spoke earnestly, his low voice quietly intense, and possessed a calm demeanor that was very comforting. So far she hadn’t found a thing wrong with him, and that was as enthralling as it was unsettling.
Finally he noticed her standing there, and looked up. ‘Oh hey, Lou,” he said easily.
Okay, so there was something wrong with him: He was too damn blind to see she was a girl.
“Have a seat,” Kid offered.
Two things, Lou reflected as she sat. Having a fiancée wasn’t a quality she was particularly fond of, though Maggie Seaborn had seemed nice enough.
“Are you an early riser, too?” he asked.
She nodded, as if in agreement. Well, she was an early riser; it just happened to be that she rose early because she had to, not by choice.
“Me, too.” Kid said. He chuckled to himself. “Not Maggie. She’d sleep ‘till noon if she could. It’s nice to know another early bird.”
Lou smiled, ridiculously happy that she shared something with Kid his fiancée did not.
“Are you startin’ the article already?” she asked, indicating the notebook.
Blushing, Kid looked away. “No, not yet. This is just my – I mean, this is what I write in the mornings.”
Lou raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What is it?”
Kid closed the notebook and shook his head. “It’s nothin’. Just, you know, stuff.”
She was about to prod him further when she realized that he was shy about revealing his writings to another man. Silently she cursed both Kid’s lack of perception, and men in general for the ridiculous notion they had that real men didn’t share things like a woman.
Another breeze stirred over them as the sun rose higher in the sky. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, Lou sneaking surreptitious glances at Kid out of the corner of her eyes. Soon the sounds of the other riders stirring could be heard behind them in the bunkhouse. Lou felt a pang of regret knowing that this sweet, shared moment was over.
* * *
When Maggie was nervous she lost all control over her hands. They wandered to tug at her hair or her earlobes, to trace the outlines of her mouth, or to rub at a pattern on a tabletop. She was never sure why at times like this she was not able to keep her hands still, but the restlessness always won her over.
She was pulling at strands of her hair all through breakfast. Disgusting, really, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t pulling it out, just twisting it through her fingers, winding the silky strands around and around, knowing that at any moment Teaspoon was going to tell Kid he could accompany one of the riders on a run tomorrow.
Rachel had told her that morning as she helped prepare breakfast. “Teaspoon reckons Kid’ll do just fine,” she had assured Maggie cheerfully.
Maggie had attempted a smile in return, but her lips had failed her.
“Don’t look so worried, honey,” Rachel had protested. “The boys’ll look out for him, and if he’s as good a shot as you say he is, there shouldn’t be no trouble at all.”
But Rachel didn’t understand. Why should she? She had never seen Kid doubled over in agony, clutching at his leg when the pain got so bad that it was all he could do to breathe. She had never smelled the heady, overpowering scent of the liniment, or rubbed it over the aching leg with her own hands –
“Maggie?”
Maggie’s eyes cleared and she discovered that Kid was staring at her, puzzled, eyebrows raised.
“Maggie, what is it?”
“Oh, um…nothin’. Just thinkin’.’
“God help us all,’ he teased with a weary smile.
He was pale this morning, with dark circles smudged under his tired blue eyes. The weeks on horseback, pushing through rain and mud, sweating under an unrelenting sun, seemed to have finally begun to make their mark on him. He needed more rest, but Maggie knew Kid well enough to know that rest was low on his list of priorities.
He was chatting easily with the other riders, as if he belonged here, as if he had always been a part of things. The group had accepted him with no apparent reluctance; even Jimmy was laughing and talking with him as if they were old friends. Maggie had only just met the Rock Creek riders, but their immediate acceptance of Kid endeared them to her in turn. She was so used to people treating Kid as a fragile thing, or someone to be kept at arm’s length, that this made a welcome change, warming her through and through.
She liked Buck’s kind, dark eyes, and the shy smile lurking on Ike’s face at any given moment. She loved the mischief Cody constantly radiated, the sharp wit of Noah, and the sweetness that belied Jimmy’s gruff demeanor. Teaspoon and Rachel were the model of friendliness and hospitality. In fact, the only rider Maggie couldn’t warm to was Lou, and the reason for that was all too obvious.
Kid had to be blind not to see the beauty hiding under Lou’s spectacles and grimy hat. Those big brown eyes were fixed on him at every opportunity, the lips curved into a smile whenever he spoke, but he was oblivious. The knowledge was little consolation to Maggie; it was only a matter of time before Kid found out. He may have been slow sometimes, but he had a reporter’s flair for detail, and he would realize the truth soon enough.
Looking across at Lou’s open and eager face, Maggie softened, and resolved to make an overture of friendliness in return. She couldn’t go her whole life being afraid of a pretty woman taking interest in Kid; it was an occupational hazard when you were engaged to a man who looked the way he did.
“Well Kid,” Teaspoon was saying, leaning back in his chair as he wiped the remnants of breakfast off his face. “I have some good news for you.”
Kid leaned forward eagerly, fork and knife still in hand as he gazed at the older man. “Do I have permission to go on a run?”
Teaspoon smiled and nodded benevolently. “You do indeed. I’m sendin’ you on a run with Lou to Walnut Creek first thing tomorrow mornin’.”
“Didja hear that, Li’l Bit?” Kid exclaimed, whirling around to beam at Maggie.
“I heard,” she assured him softly.
He narrowed his eyebrows and sat his utensils down with a sigh. “I know that look,” he said.
“It’s nothin’, Kid.”
“Oh, it’s far from nothin’, Maggie. I know you too well.”
“I’m just – just concerned, that’s all.”
“Maggie, if you’re goin’ to sit here and worry like a big ol’ mother hen while I’m gone –“
“Kid,” she replied forcefully, intensely aware of the others trying not to look as if they were listening, “why don’t we have this discussion in private?”
Kid’s eyes swept around the table. Everyone immediately ducked their heads, avoiding his gaze by staring down at their bowls of porridge. The tension was palpable, and as Kid and Maggie rose and went outside, every pair of eyes followed them, wondering at the reasoning behind this sudden disagreement, and the look of pain on Maggie’s face.
* * *
“Maggie,” Kid hissed the moment they were safely out of earshot, “are you bound and determined to act like my mother this whole trip?”
“I am not actin’ like anyone’s mother,” she shot back. “Havin’ a little concern for you is not actin’ like your mother.”
Kid stood back, arms crossed over his chest, and sighed in exasperation. “How many times have we been over this?”
“Hundreds.”
“And yet you never learn!”
“You’re a fine one to talk! How dare you imply that I’m overprotective?”
For a moment they both simply stood, arms crossed, matching expressions of blazing indignation stamped on both their faces. It seemed neither was willing to give an inch.
Maggie’s head was filled with thoughts of Kid in the many moments of pain she had seen him in. His leg could get to hurting so bad he would nearly pass out. And it had held him back so many times in his life. The memories of his sad face hurt her almost as much as the memories of his physical agony. Kid had wanted so much, had tried to do so much, but he had always been held back by both his leg and the expectations of others. Her heart twisted inside her to think of what could happen to him when he went on this run; it was dangerous, it was harsh, and who honestly knew if he could trust Lou if it should come to that?
But her mother’s words came to her. “You can’t hold someone too close to you, Maggie. No, not even if you mean it for the best. A person’s got to live their own life; you can’t protect ‘em from what they might find out there.”
It was so hard, though. She loved Kid more than anything. Her natural instinct was to protect him from anything that might hurt him.
But her mama was right. Maggie groaned and her posture immediately relaxed into one of defeat. “It ain’t like I said I didn’t want you to go.”
“You didn’t have to say it,” retorted Kid. “It was written plain all over your pretty little face.”
The reply brought a faint smile to Maggie’s lips. “I worry, DC, that’s all. And I don’t think it’s fair for you to try to turn my head with a compliment like that. That’s playin’ dirty.”
“You play dirty when you look at me with them big brown eyes,” he said. The traces of anger had vanished from his voice. His own eyes were twinkling with affection. “You know it’s all I can do not to just lay down at your feet like a puppy dog.”
“Very funny.”
“C’mere.” Kid reached for her hand and pulled it into his, lacing their fingers together and guiding her over to the porch steps where they both sat and were silent again for several minutes. Maggie looked out at the property bathed in morning sunlight as Kid traced a pattern in the palm of her hand. “Listen,” he finally said. “I understand you worryin’, I really do. Hell, you know how I worry about you –“
Maggie shot him a smirk.
“But Maggie,” he said imploringly, “this is somethin’ I want to do – so bad I can taste it, I swear to you.” He broke off to stare into the distance. “This damn leg of mine has kept me from so much already,” he said in a faraway voice. “You know; you been there all along. All the things I’ve wanted to do – all the things I haven’t been able to do. This is my chance, Maggie, this is my opportunity to do more than write about life. This my chance to live it.”
With another sigh Maggie laid her head on Kid’s shoulder. “You’re playin’ dirty again,” she whispered softly in reply.
“I won’t be able to enjoy myself if I know you ain’t happy with me,” he cajoled.
She laughed, smiling in resignation. “I’m happy if you’re happy, DC.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Brown eyes met blue for a swift moment before Kid pressed a kiss to her cheek and hugged her close. “I’ll be fine, Li’l Bit. I swear to you.”
Maggie decided it was in her own best interest to believe him.
* **
11 April 1861
Teaspoon Hunter has given me permission to join Lou McCloud on a run tomorrow. I feel like I’m going to jump right on out of my skin. I haven’t been this excited since I bought Katy a year ago.
Maggie and I argued about it, of course. She won’t ever see me as anything but the little boy she protected when we were kids. Sometimes I don’t think she looks at me like I’m her man. Sometimes I think she looks at me like I’m her little brother, someone to be taken care of. It doesn’t feel good, I can tell you. A man doesn’t want to feel the woman he’s marrying looks at him that way. You want to feel like a man, like you’re ten feet tall, like she thinks you can do anything. I guess that’s arrogant of me, I don’t know. But I’d settle for just feeling like I meant something more to her than someone to feel sorry for.
We talked it over though, and I think she’s relenting. She is happy for me when I’m happy, and I can’t fault her for worrying. She has been there for some rough times, seen me through some bad periods. She has a right to worry, I reckon.
Since leaving Denver, we’ve been through a lot. I think this trip has taught us more about each other than we even knew before. I guess there’s always something new to learn, even about people you think you know pretty well.
Things have been kind of strained between us. I think she’s restless. This trip may help us somehow. Her ma told me it would teach us about living together as man and wife.
More than that – I think this trip may make or break us.