"There's no way Buck killed that woman." Cody said again. Each of the riders had said much the same thing at least a dozen times. They were camped for the night, still a day and a half away from Fort Laramie and they were all anxious to get there.

"I know Cody, I know. And we'll prove it when we get there." Teaspoon looked around the fire at the five worried faces and knew there were no words that would stop their fears. One of their own was in serious trouble.

"We'd best get some sleep." Sam added. 'Tomorrow's gonna be another long day."

Buck found that if he stood at an angle against the window, he could see the early morning sky as the sun rose, finding those first few streaks of color somewhat comforting. His favorite time of the day was sunrise. It was that time of the day that he preferred to pray, that he found the most comfort.

It wasn't working for him today. He hadn't slept at all that night, worried about the impending trial today. The court appointed lawyer had shown up the previous afternoon and seemed capable enough, but without a witness that could testify on Buck's behalf, he knew he didn't stand a chance. Buck saw his life stop at the end of a noose, not exactly the ending he had envisioned.

His breakfast arrived about an hour later, but he had no appetite. He had accepted the opportunity to wash up and the doctor had brought him a clean shirt. Before he knew it, the Captain was at the cell door, key in hand, with six soldiers waiting behind him. Buck silently walked out of the cell, holding his wrists out for the handcuffs waiting for him. Then they led him out of the jail and into the streets.

The walk to the saloon where the trial was to be held was torture. Townspeople turned and stared, fingers pointing. Buck could overhear comments such as "murdering heathen" and "filthy Indian". The comments cut to his heart. Just four days ago he had walked down these streets freely. And while he knew that many of these people didn't trust him, they had at least ignored him and let him go on his way. Not today. Today he was on trial for murdering a young woman, the daughter of the local banker and new wife of the store owner's son. Not to mention the saloon employee, who no one really seemed to care about, except maybe the saloon owner and witness.

They finally entered the saloon. The room was already crowded. Buck felt hundreds of eyes on him as he walked down the aisle to the front of the room. One of the soldiers shoved him into a chair next to the lawyer. Buck tried to look around. There were no faces he recognized except those of the soldiers that had been at the jail and the local Express station manager. The man tried to give Buck an encouraging smile but failed miserably at it.

The judge entered the room and the voices all fell quiet. Buck felt his heart drop to his stomach. This was it.

Teaspoon, Sam and the riders were making good time, riding hard and stopping at several of the larger way stations for fresh mounts. Ike, especially, pushed them hard, telling them that he knew something was happening to Buck even now. Teaspoon tried to calm them by telling them that Buck's trial wasn't due to start for at least another three days, but even he felt the need to eat away some miles.

"When I walked into the alley, he was over Taggert. He plunged the knife into Taggert's neck. I picked up a board I found lying nearby and hit him over the head with it. Then I called for help." Martin Slayden concluded from the witness seat.

"You actually saw him plunge the knife into Taggert's neck?" the lawyer asked, pacing back and forth.

"Yes sir. It was horrible. I've never seen a more gruesome act in my life."

"Thank you Mr. Slayden." The lawyer took his seat.

Buck studied the man in the witness chair. Slayden stared back at him, a slight smirk on his face. Buck knew he was looking at the true murderer of that young woman, but he had no way of proving it. His lawyer, Jonathan Chambers, stood and approached the witness, drawing the man's attention to him and away from Buck.

"So, you say you saw Mr. Cross here stab Mr. Taggert? Did you also see him shoot Mrs. Jacobson?"

"Well, no. But I know he did it."

"How would you know this if you didn't see it?"

"Taggert didn't have a gun. The Indian did. They were the only two in the alley so it had to be the Indian that did the shooting."

"You don't think that there could have been someone else there, someone that, perhaps, ran away before you got there?"

"I didn't see or hear anyone run off. I entered the alley so soon after the gunshot that I'm sure I would have seen someone, if there had been someone there."

"But there was enough time for Taggert and Mr. Cross to fight. The condition of my client shows that there was definitely a fight. Certainly someone had the time to run away if there was time for Taggert and Cross to do so much damage to each other?"

"All I know is that I didn't see or hear anyone else."

"Thank you Mr. Slayden."

"How bad is it?" Teaspoon asked.

Ike signed a reply, which Kid translated for everyone. "Picked up a stone. This horse isn't going anywhere very fast." Kid walked over to Ike, holding out the reins to his horse. "Take mine and get going. You're wasting time here. I'll follow as fast as I can. There's another way station in about eight miles. I'll pick up a fresh horse there and catch up."

Ike accepted the reins with a nod and a look of gratitude and mounted. They all headed off at a gallop.

"Mr. Taggert had a broken nose, a few bruises, and of course the knife wound in the neck. Mrs. Jacobson had a few small bruises, like those that would have come from a struggle, and a bullet wound in the chest. The bullet undoubtedly hit the heart, causing instantaneous death. Mr. Cross received numerous bruises and scratches, a cut above his right eye and one on his lip, a knife wound across the abdomen, and a large lump on the back of his head."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Any questions Mr. Chambers?" the judge inquired.

"Not at the moment. But I would like to reserve the right to recall the Doctor later, if need be."

"Granted." The judge looked at his pocket watch. "In that case, we'll be adjourning for the day. We'll start again at nine o'clock in the morning." The judge hit his gavel against the table and walked out of the room.

The soldiers approached Buck, and taking him by the arms, walked him out of the saloon and back to the jail. Once inside one of the soldiers behind him raised the butt of his rifle and slammed it into Buck's back, causing him to stumble forward and out of the grasp of the two soldiers holding his arms. His hands were still cuffed in front of him, so he had no way to break his fall. He smashed head-first onto the floor, stunning him slightly. The two soldiers didn't know what happened, and thinking that Buck was making a useless attempt to escape, one of them delivered several sharp kicks into Buck's ribcage. Buck doubled over, pain and nausea rushing through him. He felt rough hands grab his arms and drag him to the cell, dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor. One of them reached over and unlocked the cuffs, then they slammed the door closed and walked off.

Buck rolled to his knees, resisting the need to retch. He had a feeling a rib had broken, and his forehead was bleeding again. But he knew there would be no help forthcoming from the soldiers. He staggered to his feet and made it to the cot, lying down on his side and bringing his knees up slightly, which relieved some of the pressure in his ribcage. It was going to be a long night.

Buck must have dozed, because he awoke to the sound of someone clearing their throat. Captain Lawlor stood at the cell door.

"I hear you caused some trouble for my men this afternoon." It was a statement, not a question.

"Depends on how you look at it." Buck said, holding his arm against his chest as he sat up. "I seemed to stumble a bit when we got inside. Funny how something slammed into a person's back can cause them to stumble."

"Are you accusing my men of inappropriate behavior?"

"Not at all. I totally understand how they might think I was trying to escape. After all, I was being held by two soldiers, I was handcuffed, and I was inside a jail. Seemed like the right time to try and escape to me."

"You've got a smart mouth. I've never seen an Indian with a smart mouth before."

"Well, it must be my white blood coming out. Can I do something for you Captain?"

"You know, at one time I actually might have believed you were innocent. I've never trusted Slayden and his men. But maybe I was wrong."

"You're not wrong. I didn't do it. I think Slayden did it. I just can't prove it." Buck grimaced slightly as he stood up. "I'm sorry for being smart. I guess I'm just not at my best right now."

"I've never heard an Indian apologize either."

"You've obviously not been around many Indians. We always admit when we're wrong. And we don't lie."

"What tribe are you from, boy?"

"Kiowa."

"Kiowa? They're warriors aren't they?"

"Only when need be. Like anyone else, they'd rather just sit back and raise their children in peace."

"Hmm. Indeed. Well, I'll send the Doctor over to see to those ribs." Lawlor left and Buck sat back down, leaning against the wall, listening to the noises from outside as the sun went down.

Teaspoon, Sam and the boys rode as long as they could, but soon it became too dark to continue. The boys sat disgruntedly, tossing twigs into the fire, or throwing small rocks into the woods. They all looked up with a start as a twig snapped in the dark. Kid emerged from the pitch black as six guns pointed at him.

"It's just me!" Kid said with his hands going up into the air. He walked further in to the camp, dropping his bedroll onto the ground next to Lou's. "Any supper left?"

"In the pan." Teaspoon motioned toward the fire. "Any other trouble?"

"No." Kid helped himself to some meat, chewing slowly. "How much further?"

"We should be there mid morning." Sam answered as he tossed the last of his coffee into the fire.

On to Chapter Four

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