By Cheryl McCreary
Copyright 1999
Buck stood on the porch of Rachel Dunne's house in Rock Creek. He had been released from the army jail two months ago. He now owed Cody his life. He hoped that he would live up to Cody and Ike's expectations for him. And now Buck stood on that porch working up the nerve to simply knock on the door. He wondered how he would be able to do everything else that he needed to do after that.
When Cody had come back to the jail cell Buck had done everything that was asked. The two of them had lied. Told the soldiers that other braves had unknowingly been outside the fort. And that one of these men had killed the guard. It was dishonest, but Cody had seen no other way.
And it had worked. Cody had voucher for Buck. Said that his good friend was incapable of killing a man in cold blood. The soldiers had believed their story. When Buck said that he wouldn't fight any longer. Couldn't fight any longer. The soldiers had let him go. Buck had asked that Cody not tell the others of the truth. Cody promised not to, and Buck knew that he would keep the promise.
Cody had offered to let him stay with his family. But Buck knew that Cody's wife did not desire a savage half-breed to spend the night under her roof with her and her children. Buck figured that Cody himself was a little reluctant about letting a man he now knew was a cold-blooded murder in his house.
And so Buck had left. He needed to go see Isaac. But first he had other things to sort out. Returning to the white world, even if just to visit his son, would be hard. He had changed much in the last 6 years. He could never go back. He could never look at a white man and not hate the way that they hated the red man. Once the white world and Rock Creek saw him as an equal. But this time part of him had never returned from the Kiowa. And that part of him stopped him from fully reentering the white world.
Buck slowly knocked on the door. Waited for Rachel to answer. When she did she was shocked to find Buck standing on her porch. When he had left all those years ago she was sure he wouldn't stay gone for long. When he hadn't returned she wondered if he was dead. Hoped with all her heart that he wasn't. And now he stood before her. She couldn't believe her eyes. She hugged him as tears of joy rolled down her checks. Buck hugged her back.
Once Rachel's senses had returned she stood back and looked at the man before her. Buck wore Indian buckskin pants, a new blue shirt, and a worn navy U.S. cavalry vest. His feet were covered with tall Indian moccasins, his knife strapped to the left one and his gun belt was around his waist. His hair was longer and combed neatly. He still wore an earring in his left ear, and his medicine pouch and Clara's locket hung from his neck. His eyes were full of sadness though. He looked like a man who had already seen too much of life. And Rachel noticed a coldness to him that had never been present before.
"Rachel, I've come to see Isaac," Buck stated.
Rachel had so many questions to ask him. Where had he been? Why hadn't he returned for so long? Was he home to stay? Would he take little Ike with him? There would be plenty of time for Buck to answer her questions though. She knew that first Buck needed to see his son. She always knew that the thought of little Ike would eventually bring him home. Rachel smiled and said, "I'll go get him. Wait here."
Buck waited on the porch for Rachel to return with his son. He would be 6 now. The last time Buck had seen Isaac he was small enough for Buck to hold in one arm. Buck wondered if he would even recognize his own son's face. It had been so long. He knew that Isaac would not know him. Buck was a stranger to him.
Then Rachel returned smiling with a young boy by her side. That would be Isaac, Buck thought. The red blood of his mother had been washed out of his white son.
"Ike," Rachel said addressing the boy, "This is your father, Buck." Isaac looked up at the strange Indian before him.
"I told Teaspoon I'd meet him at the hotel for lunch" Rachel said to excuse herself from the reunion, "I should be goin'." With that Rachel left the porch leaving the two strangers staring at each other.
Buck looked at the child before him, his son. Isaac had the pale blue eyes of his mother. His hair was brown and curly, cut short. His complexion, although a little too tan, was white.
"So you're my father?" Isaac asked Buck.
"Yes," Buck answered.
Isaac looked Buck over. Starting with Buck's worn moccasins and ending with his long black hair. "Huh," Isaac finally said, "Thought you'd look more like an Indian."
Buck looked down at his clothes and then back at his son, "Thought it would be better to look like a white man."
"You've been gone a long time." Isaac stated, "You've had Rachel worried."
Buck realized that there was knowledge in the words of his son. Concern for Rachel. Wonder at where his father had been and why it had taken him so long to return. But there was no anger in those words. Buck was glad for that.
Buck knelt down before his son. He wanted to get a better look at him, to see his son eye to eye. Isaac still looked at Buck. His eyes were the color of Clara's but they carried a great intensity with them. They were calm and watchful and seemed to bore a hole into Buck. Like this small child before him already knew all about his troubled soul. Buck wanted to take his son into his arms. But he didn't. This child before him didn't know him. To him Buck was a stranger. Then Isaac stepped forward and reached out his arms to hug Buck. His small arms circled Buck's neck. Buck pulled Isaac close to him. Isaac was small and light in his arms. And for the first time since he had talked to Ike in his dream he was glad that he made the choice he did. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Buck and Isaac had walked down to the pond outside of town. Buck was amazed to find Isaac so full of words. Neither Clara nor himself had ever been much for words. He found that Isaac had a wonderful way with them, even at such a young age. Buck had walked beside his son. Heard him tell story after story of his life. Buck enjoyed hearing Isaac's perspective on the world, it was fresh and creative and full of energy and life. He wondered when the last time was that he himself thought such things of the world.
Eventually Isaac had taken his hand. And now Buck held that little hand tightly, never wanting to have to let go of it. He looked down at his son. He was so full of life. Buck hoped the world would never steal that from him. Isaac looked up at him with Clara's blue eyes. A smile graced his face. Buck thought of Soaring Eagle. Isaac and him would have really liked each other.
Buck noticed that the sun was beginning to set in the sky. He should get Isaac back to Rachel's. She would be worried if they were late to supper. "Come Isaac, we should be getting back for supper," Buck said aloud as he turned back in the direction of Rachel's house.
Isaac turned around also. "Why do you call me that?" he asked Buck.
"Why do I call you what?" Buck responded.
"Why do you can me Isaac? Everyone else calls me Ike." Isaac said.
Buck didn't answer.
"Is it because of your friend Ike that died?" Isaac answered for Buck.
"Yes," Buck said.
"Rachel's always telling me all about him," Isaac continued. Buck let him talk. "I'm nothin' like him, am I?" Isaac asked Buck.
"No," Buck answered. He saw Isaac's face grow sad. They were different people. And they held different parts of his heart and would hold different places in his life. "That is fine." Buck said to once again return the smile to his son's face. "I named you after Ike to honor who he was and so that he would have a place in the future. You are different people though. That is okay."
Isaac looked up at Buck, this man that was his father. That had been the most words Ike had ever heard Buck say at once. They had been good words though. He was glad he hadn't disappointed his father for not being more like the man he was named after.
On to Chapter Six
