Wayward Riders
By Lauren
I would like to give a BIG thanks to Nesciri for her help in this chapter and to Lisa for her encouragement!
Chapter 2
Ike walked slowly back towards the bunkhouse, ignoring the soaking rain. Buck’s words weighed heavily on his mind…what was wrong, and why wouldn’t Buck tell him? Ike knew the Kiowa well enough to know that his friend was lying to him. Something had been bothering him ever since he got back from his run a few hours ago. Ike just wished he knew what it was.
As Buck clung to his horse, eyes closed against the driving rain, his mind drifted from his Kiowa prayers to the events of his earlier ride:
He was in the saloon in Willow Springs, trying to get a sandwich for lunch. The barkeeper, however, refused to serve "a low-down, dirty halfbreed," so Buck took the not-so-subtle hint and left the saloon hungry. He walked back toward his gelding, but the street was blocked by a bunch of rough-looking men. He could smell the whiskey from several yards away, and hoped that they weren’t looking for trouble. Of course, it was just his luck…
"Hey, Injun," one of the group called, his words hardly recognizable. Seven of the men began staggering his direction, obviously dead drunk. Buck stopped, hesitantly, then tried to go around them. A large man stuck his foot out, barely able to keep standing. Buck stepped around it, half tempted to nudge the man and cause him to topple him over. Another man struck him on the back with something hard, and Buck felt himself fall. He felt a blow to his side as he dropped, and then opened his eyes to see the toe of a dirty boot. He instinctively shielded his face with his arm in attempt to deflect the kicks, and reached for his gun with the other hand. He struggled to his knees and brought the weapon up, aiming it at the nearest of his attackers.
He cocked the gun despite the harsh blows. The drunks didn’t take the obvious hint, and one of them kicked him hard in the stomach. Buck, hunched over in pain, pulled the trigger.
There was momentary silence as one of the men fell to the ground, dead. Then the others in the group panicked drunkenly, confused and scared. This gave Buck the chance he needed to get away.
He ran stiffly back to his horse, and as he jumped into the saddle, he heard the sound of gunfire. He looked back and saw that the drunks had regained some of their sense and were shooting in his direction. He thanked his gods that they were too wasted to hit him.
Nevertheless, Buck spurred his horse harder, heading towards the safety of the Horse Creek station.
Buck shook his head, as if to erase the memories of his ride. He had cleaned up at the Horse Creek station, then had gone back in a fruitless attempt to hide his tracks, in case the drunk’s friends came for revenge. If he had been thinking earlier, he wouldn’t have used the marked Pony Express route. There was no way the men could miss the trail. He just hoped that they hadn’t followed him. He didn’t regret shooting the man who had attacked him, but he sure didn’t feel like getting killed for it.
He also hoped that no one would find out about what had happened in Willow Springs…
Lost in thought, Buck didn’t notice when his horse’s stride faltered. Then, all of a sudden, the gelding’s hooves slid out from under them in the mud, and both horse and rider went flying.
Ike was surprised to look up and see the rest of the riders, plus Teaspoon and Rachel, standing in front of the bunkhouse watching him expectantly. Ike wondered what he was supposed to tell them. He began walking towards them, head bowed, but stopped when he heard the sound of horses. Despite the rain, Ike could hear that there were quite a few riders. Finally, dark shapes came into view, about 10 yards away. As they came nearer, the riders could tell that there were at least six riders. When they stopped in front of the bunkhouse, Ike could see that they were rough, unkept men, the kind he wouldn’t trust at his back.
"Is there a Injun here?" one of them asked.
"No." Emma answered flatly, quickly deciding that she didn’t like these men.
"Have you seen ‘un at all today?" another asked.
"Sir, I have never seen and never will see an ‘Injun.’ I have seen ‘Indians,’ though not today. If that is what you’re asking."
"Then have you seen a halfbreed today, mam?" the man persisted rudely.
Emma hesitated, trying to think of the best response, and the man noticed it.
"Where is he?"
"Um…I don’t know. He…left." Emma looked to Ike for conformation, and the rider nodded. "I don’t know where he went or when he’ll be back," she continued, "but I sure won’t let you know when he comes back. And," she had to add, "he is not a ‘halfbreed.’ Thank you very much, and good night."
Emma turned to enter the bunkhouse, and the others followed.
As the riders filed through the door, the more talkative drunk called after them, "Well, you better watch yer back. That ‘un’s a killer."
Ike firmly shut the door after he went in. They were all soaking wet, but Emma didn’t say anything as they all picked up their guns from the wall and sat down on the edge of the beds. Small puddles formed beneath each body.
They fully expected the men to pursue the conversation, and were suspicious when they heard the sound of galloping hooves. Everyone sat there for a few moments, listening for any sound other than rain. Finally Jimmy impatiently got up and peeked out the door. It seemed clear, but he cocked his gun and stepped out to make sure that all of the men were gone. The other boys followed him out and checked to make sure that everything was secure.
When everyone was back inside the bunkhouse, sitting silently, Emma asked Ike the question everyone had on their minds. "Ike, do you know where Buck is? Did he tell you what happened to him?"
Ike felt everybody’s eyes upon him, waiting expectantly. He looked down at the floor, wishing he knew what kind of trouble Buck was in.
"Ike?" Teaspoon said. "We just want to help. And we’ve gotta know what we’re up against before we go riding off to the rescue, son."
At the sound of Teaspoon’s voice, Ike stopped picking at a loose thread in the mattress and nodded. He turned to Kid, who was the best there at understanding sign. <He wouldn’t tell me anything. He wouldn’t…> Ike paused, then began to speed up, angry with himself and Buck. <I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong and he wouldn’t tell me, and I don’t know what’s wrong, and why wouldn’t he tell me?>
"Hold up, Ike, I can’t go that fast. Just slow down. Now, come again?"
Ike shook his head and stood up abruptly. <He wouldn’t tell me! Don’t you understand?! He’s in trouble and I let him down! I’ve got to go help.>
"Do you know where he went? Which direction? Anything?" asked Jimmy.
Ike thought for a moment, then nodded. <West,> he said decisively.
"Towards Devil’s Gate?" Teaspoon asked.
Ike nodded, grabbing his jacket from the hanger.
"Now wait a minute, do you think you’re goin’ alone?" Cody asked.
"There are a bunch of men out there after Buck," Kid pointed out. "Do you think that the two of you can beat who knows how many of them?"
<I’ve got to do this myself.> Ike signed firmly.
"I think that rain washed some of his sense off him," Cody joked lamely.
"Look who’s talkin’!" Jimmy returned.
"Alright, you two," Emma warned, trying to hide a smile despite the seriousness of the situation.
<I have to do this alone.> Ike repeated. <Please don’t follow me.>
Teaspoon saw the silent plea in Ike’s eyes, and though it was against his better judgement, settled the matter. Ike nodded in thanks, then continued out the door.
"Ride safe, son," Teaspoon whispered.
