Richard Kyle stood at the core of the wreckage that was his home. This was all her fault. His thankless little bitch of a daughter had deserted him. He had heard rumors, since her disappearance, of her befriending the little trollop that works at the market. Well, she used to work at the market. He’d gone to the women’s boarding house to have a little chat with her only to find that she’d run off with some man. He was positive that Kira had gone with them. He only had to figure out where and then they would pay. Daddy’s little girl should have learned not to betray him years ago. It was just his misfortune that cliché’s sometimes rang true, like mother, like daughter. 

Kira stared at the house. She was worrying her lower lip, staring down at Buck with her brows knitted into an apprehensive knot. "What if they don’t like me?" Buck tightened his grip on her waist and helped her from the buckboard. "They’ll be crazy about you. Teaspoon was the one that gave me the booklet with your ad in it. So this was really all his idea, well, his and Rachel’s. So they’ll be thrilled to meet you. Kid and Lou are just happy I won’t be alone anymore. Lou’s my… our neighbor, and she’s bursting at the seams to have another woman close by. I’m sure you won’t have any problems with them. They’re real good people." Squaring her shoulders, she nodded, and walked by Buck’s side to the front door. 

Teaspoon was a bit of a shock for Kira. No sooner did Buck open the door for her than, Teaspoon charged across the room, gathering her in a friendly embrace. "I’m so glad to finally meet ya darlin’. We’ve been rootin’ for our Buck to find him a good woman for years. This here’s my wife, Rachel." He gestured toward a lovely blonde woman who smiled and waved.  This is Lou, otherwise known as Loise, and this is her husband, Kid. These two little’uns are Lou’s sister Theresa and her brother Jeremiah. The small family greeted her warmly with hugs, and she even earned a kiss from little Theresa. "You’re real purty. I bet Uncle Buck is happy you ain’t ugly. We were kinda worryin’ for him." Kira held back the snort of laughter that threatened to explode from her. She kissed the little girl back and turned her head to wink at Buck. 

A steady heat was rising from Buck’s toes. The wink she sent him from across the room had his entire body enflamed. He had never seen another woman so beautiful, and this particular one was momentarily to be his wife. He just hoped he could stick with his decision to give her some time before he asked her to consummate the marriage. His nerves all seemed to be electrified just because he was near her. What was he going to do when they were alone at home? He supposed he would be neglecting to heat any water for his baths for a while. Looking at her though, he was absolutely certain that she was worth it. 

Teaspoon had introduced Kira to the Minister, and she was engaged in an animated conversation with him. Buck only caught snippets of the conversation, but he deduced that Kira would be a regular in the pews of the church the minister presided over. That suited Buck just fine. He would never tell anyone that his or her beliefs were somehow inferior to his own. Too many people had hurt him by doing that in the past. He had decided in the beginning to be a supportive husband, no matter what. Even though the vows he was about to make were not from his religion’s teachings, they were vows none the less. He resolved to follow them as the honorable Kiowa man he was. Buck’s thought process came to an abrupt halt as soon as he spied Kira making her way from the minister to him. "Mr. Martin wanted me to ask you if you’re ready to begin." Buck wasn’t sure what it was about her that took his voice from him at that moment. It could have been the sweet smile on her lips, or the glittering green eyes that shared her mouth’s mirth. He didn’t really care. Speechless, he took her small hand, placed it in the crook of his arm, and stepped gamely forward into his uncertain future. 

Kira was so weak that she had to lean heavily on Buck through most of the ceremony. She considered herself in good form when she actually managed to speak the words, "I do." What she didn’t realize was that her resolve was going to be tested again sooner than she’d assumed. When Mr. Martin asked Buck if he had a ring for the bride, she was shocked to find that he’d had the forethought to buy one. When she saw the ring, however, she realized just how much forethought that he had put into her preferences. On her trembling finger, Buck placed a gold band that was made of wee overlapping roses. It was small enough not to look odd on her delicate hand, but the detail of the roses was still astonishing. The artfulness with which the ring was crafted made the curves and points of the petals look real, yet they were not sharp or bulging into her other fingers. Even more intriguing was the fact that it fit perfectly, when she was sure Buck did not know her ring size. She didn’t even know her ring size. A familiar burning emerged in her eyes, and tears began to run in thin rivulets down her cheeks. The strange part of the experience was that the tears were not of pain, but joy. 

"Your family is so kind! The cake Rachel made was so beautiful that I didn’t even want to cut it.  I’ll admit, though, it was delicious. I would have liked to chat with them a bit more, but they seemed to be shooing us away." Kira blanched at the most likely reason Buck’s friends had sent them on their way so early. She hoped Buck hadn’t seen her expression. She certainly didn’t want to make him angry on their wedding day. She changed the subject quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. "Your Teaspoon is quite a character. " Kira had to yell over the noise of the horses drawing the buckboard. "Lou asked me to go into town with her and Rachel for lunch one day soon. Would that be all right?" 

"Of course. I’m glad, they really liked you. Believe me, they did." He replied to her dubious expression. "No one you met today, with maybe the exception of Mr. Martin, is ever inclined to keep their opinion to themselves. They all liked you." Still in shock, Buck couldn’t believe that the lovely woman sitting beside him was his wife. He kept waiting to wake up and find himself alone in his bed, cursing that damned dream. "We are almost home. I need to warn you that I don’t have much furniture. I don’t need much, so I never bought any. I mean I have a bed, but…" Buck tried to reroute the conversational direction he’d clumsily taken as soon as Kira’s face became even more pallid. "I have a dining table too," he amended. 

"As I said in my letter, I’m not demanding much. Whatever you have will be just fine with me." 

"We." 

"Pardon?" 

"Whatever we have." He grinned at her, and she felt a wave of fondness for this good-hearted man. She had been born in her father’s home, and yet everything there, including the clothes on her back, he insisted were his. He’d said once that she was his possession, and she had been forced even before her mother’s death to ask his permission to eat his food. She was growing in the certainty that Buck was a man entirely unlike her father. Which is to say, he was a man. 

Buck watched Kira’s face as they neared the house. He had to let out a little laugh when her countenance changed. She was gawking open mouthed. 

"Home sweet home," Buck grinned at his bride. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today. 

Kira couldn’t find any words. For some reason she had assumed that Buck was not a wealthy man. She had no knowledge that a stud farm, whatever that was, could be so lucrative. When she really thought about it, she should have known it when he paid for her passage to this country. He had made sure that all of her accommodations were first class. Thinking of it now, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t caught on. She supposed that she had just been so worried about what would become of her that she hadn’t given it any real consideration. She was astonished now, to believe she would be living in this gorgeous home. It was enormous and lovely, with yellow paint and white trim. It had shutters and decorative woodwork all over the porch, all painted in a pristine white. She could see a big porch, replete with a wooden swing hanging serenely from the ceiling. 

Kira climbed up the front steps to the porch, her eyes wandering from the flourishing potted plants to the etched glass in the door. She was already overwhelmed, and she wasn’t even in the house yet. Buck opened the door for her, but before she had time to step in, he’d swept her up in his arms. "I’m supposed to carry the bride over the threshold, right?" She blushed deeply.  "O-of course," she stammered. She couldn’t think straight. She could feel the heat of him, the strength of his limbs wrapped around her back, and under her legs. He set her down with a flourish, "Your new home, my lady." She gaped, turning in a circle. Empty, glossy, wooden floors surrounded her. "I lost track of what I was saying on the way here. I was going to tell you that I was thinking we could go to St. Joe for a honeymoon in a few weeks, and that you could pick out whatever you wanted to decorate with. I didn’t know what kind of furniture you like, and Lou insisted that every woman wants to decorate her own home. I also thought we could visit the art museum they have there. I’ve never been there, but it’s big, so they must have something interesting in there." 

"You’re going to let me decorate the whole house?" 

"Well, I was hoping we would agree on most things, but yeah. That’s been my plan. You can spend what you want to on it. I don’t much care for money, and I’ve got too much of it. I think we’ll have fun. I know most men gripe about it, but I always said that if I were lucky enough to get married one day, I’d enjoy going shopping with my wife. I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy the museum too, and I’m dead sure I’ll enjoy showing you off." 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"What?" 

"The last part, about showing me off?" 

"Do you think it’s wrong that I’d want to show off my beautiful new wife?" 

Kira blinked at him. "Beautiful? Buck please don’t make fun of me." She looked at her feet uncertainly. 

"I’m not, Kira. I don’t know who told you that you aren’t pretty, but they must have been blind. I'm having the worst time keeping my eyes off of you," he confessed. 

"You really are serious. I don’t know what to say." She was sure she looked like a beet. She could feel her cheeks flushing red-hot. 

"How about a tour of your new house?" 

"Certainly, lead the way." She smiled, still fighting the blush she felt on her throat and face. Buck lead her into a roomy kitchen that was full of the usual paraphernalia, as well as a nice, simple, dining table and chairs set. She was shown a dining room. Buck showed her his office. It had a full wall that was dedicated to bookshelves which were so packed with books, Kira was sure that not one more book could be forced to fit in. There was a worn desk that housed many drawers, and next to it sat an even more worn chair covered with cracking green colored leather. There was a door in the back wall, and she was shocked to find that Buck had an indoor toilet, and sink behind it. She’d taken for granted that she’d be moving to the backwoods, somewhere where there were no creature comforts, and this home was much more luxurious than her father’s had been. There was another door that lead out of that bathroom to a huge empty room Buck didn’t want to explain. "Well, what is this room for?" She persisted. Kira noticed a bright blush rise in his cheeks. "I was hoping that it would be something along the lines of a children’s play room. I was thinking that if it was raining or something and I ever had kids of course, that they would need a place to play. So, I made sure it was off my office so I could watch them." He directed his entire statement to the top of his boots. Feeling saucy, Kira reached up to cup one of his burning cheeks in her hand. "You are the most thoughtful man, Buck Cross." A palpable tension rose in the room. Clumsily, Buck took her hand from his face and pulled her upstairs by it. There were several empty rooms that Buck explained were bedrooms and one fully furnished bedroom that Buck promised to explain later. 

She came to another door, and Buck took her hand from the knob. "This one is for last." She nodded, and followed Buck to the master bedroom. It was cavernous with a high ceiling, and two huge closets. There was an enormous picture window to the left of the bed, and to her shock, there was a fireplace on the wall across from the foot of the bed. There was another door in the room that led to a private bathroom complete with a basin and bathtub with water pumps, and another indoor toilet. It had plenty of shelving space for any woman’s needs, as well as linen closets to fill with nice sheets and things. Coming out of the bathroom, Kira noticed the bed. It was huge. The headboard was carved out of wood, and a simple patchwork quilt was spread over it. The carving made the bed look as if a tree were sprouting up above the bed. Buck caught her looking at it, and admitted to carving the bed himself, adding that Rachel had made the quilt for him. There was just no ending, when it came to the pleasant surprises Buck had for her. 

Finally, he led her to the door he had saved for last. He opened the door, and stepped aside for Kira to go in. "This is for you. I mean, it’s your room." It was a corner room, and the dying ebbs of sunlight poured through the picture windows, touching lightly on the objects that rested in it. In the corner, was a large desk covered from edge to edge with every kind of canvas and drawing paper she could have ever imagined. There was a long table in the middle of the room that was topped with boxes that held every kind of pencil, paintbrush, paint, chalk, or any other medium she could have ever imagined. In the corner opposite of the desk was a freestanding easel, waiting for a canvas. Sitting away from the veritable art supply store was a rocking chair, carved with the same design as the bed. Dumbfounded, Kira threw herself into Buck arms, forgetting herself long enough to rain feathery kisses all over his face. He eagerly returned her embrace, and basked in the glory of her affection. 
 

Chapter 7

Friction between chain links caused a hypnotizing squeaking noise as Kira and Buck drifted back and forth on the porch swing. He’d long since retrieved her bag and roses from the buckboard.  Her bag had been deposited in the master bedroom, and the flowers lovingly put in a water-filled vase and placed on the dining table. It was dark, and the night creatures had begun to serenade the nervous couple swaying slowly on the swing. Kira stared at the man she had joined her life with that very day. She started giggling uncontrollably. Buck shot her a curious look, but that just made it worse. Tears were streaming down her face by the time she got her laughter under control. "I’m so sorry," she barely choked out. "I’m such a ninny sometimes." Buck was just glad that the strange silence had been broken. "What did you find so funny?" He asked, pulling the leather thong from his hair, and running his long fingers through it. Kira could only look at him for a moment with his hair falling straight and glossy around his dark face. "I like your hair down better," she blurted. Her eyes widened, and she slapped a small hand over her mouth. "Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud." Laughing, Buck could only nod his head. Switching the subject back to his earlier question, he asked, "What was so funny before?" He waited for her answer, but she wouldn’t look at him. "I don’t know if I should say. I don’t want to make you cross with me." She furrowed her brow realizing too late, the pun her words made with his name. "Lowest form of humor," she muttered under her breath. "What?" Buck looked at her, expectant. 

"Nothing." 

"Why would you think I would be mad at you? I’d really like to know what you found so funny." 

"It’s silly really. I was just thinking that well... you should be a toad." Buck stared at her, uncomprehending. She shrugged. 

"Well, I was expecting a toad anyway. I thought that since you seemed nice, and since you were employed, that you were unmarried because you were ugly. Isn’t that awful of me?" 

"But you came to marry me anyway." 

"There was a kindness in your words that drew me all the way from England. I figured that your sweetness would overshadow outward appearance." 

"I still don’t see the humor." His brows furrowed. She snorted. 

"The humor? Your bloody beautiful!" Her hand shot up to her mouth again. "I think perhaps I’m in need of a gag tonight. My mouth is running away with me." 

Blushing to his roots, Buck had absolutely no idea how to counter that. No one had ever confessed to finding him physically attractive at all, certainly not beautiful. He was more pleased than words could relay that it was Kira who said what he’d wished most of his life to hear. He had long ago given up on ever hearing such sweet words, as well as ever having a partner in life. Buck took her hand, brought it to his mouth, and gently kissed it. "I hope your mouth runs away with you a lot for the next fifty years or so." With her hand so close to his eyes, Buck noticed that chill bumps had appeared over her exposed skin. "It’s getting chilly out here. I should get you inside before you catch your death. How about I start a fire in the bedroom to warm you up?"  She stiffened at the mention of the bedroom, and Buck realized that he’d forgotten to inform her of his decision to give her some time before any physical aspect of the marriage was expected. "I made up that other bedroom, the only other one with furniture, for me to use for a while. I was thinking you might need some time to uhm…get used to things. I’ll get a fire started for you, and then you can get your things put up. The empty closet is yours. If you have knickknacks or anything you want to put out, go ahead. I’ll start some water to boil for a bath if you like. You can use the pump for water, but it’s not hot…" He was babbling, and he knew it. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to stop himself. "I was hoping you might want a tour of the barn tomorrow. Would you maybe, like to meet the horses?" 

Kira’s face brightened with the mention of the horses. "That would be lovely. I was hoping that maybe I could learn to ride one." She noticed his expression harden. "Would that be too much trouble?" Buck tried to remind himself that she was his wife, not some conniving little rich girl using him for her entertainment. "That would be fine. Maybe we’ll get to start as early as tomorrow evening. Is that all right with you?" 

"That sounds wonderful." She paused, not quite knowing how to phrase what she wanted to say. "Uh…um…thank you… for…uh…giving me some time. Well actually, I should thank you for everything." She craned her neck up, and gently kissed him on the cheek. "You’re a blessing Buck Cross. I’m so thankful for you." 

Friends in low places had eased the rough spots in Richard Kyle’s life. Luckily, he had plenty of them, as well as plenty of cash to keep them friendly. He knew the men he was dealing with were good at keeping their mouths shut. They had helped him out many times over the years, including that nasty business with his wife a bit more than a decade before. His irritation at being dragged to the United States to retrieve his errant daughter was growing steadily with each breath he took. She was going to learn her lesson, and he was happy to be the one to teach her. He’d gotten reliable information that promised the end of his journey to be in the city of Boston. He had arrived the day before, and was vaguely impressed by the wealthy city. Now all he had to do was find the shopgirl and get his daughter back. 

Kira relaxed in a pool of hot water. True to his word, Buck had lugged several pots of boiling water from the kitchen to warm up the water she had already pumped. She wanted so much to write Celene to tell her how handsome her husband was, but she couldn’t until Celene wrote her with a return address. She wished she could be able to see Celene’s face when she finds out that her assurance that Buck would be ugly, was totally, undeniably wrong. She smiled at the thought of him. He was the kindest soul she had ever met. He put so much thought into what other people were feeling. She had been so anxious worrying about what it would be like to be forced for duty’s sake, in to a bed with a man she barely knew. After seeing Buck she was no longer nauseated by the thought of it, but she was still uncomfortable with being naked and completely at the mercy of someone she hardly knew, doing something to her that she didn’t entirely grasp.  She supposed it was just a fear of the unknown. It was good of him to give her some time. His face floated into her mind. He was physically perfect, she mused. Finishing up her bath, she toweled off, and dressed in her nightdress and robe. She tiptoed into her new art room, grabbed a large tablet and some charcoals, and set every light source she could find ablaze. She drew eyes. She drew cheekbones, a chin, a nose, a mouth, and framed it all with hair. Drifting out of her art saturated immersion, she realized two things. First, it was very late into the night. Second, Buck’s exquisite face had emerged, wearing a smoldering grin. His gentle eyes bore into her with a mischievous glint. A strange heat spread over her skin. If a drawing of him was enough to do this to her, what would she have done if he were looking at her like that in the flesh? Flesh, that was an ironic word. She decided that she’d never get to sleep with her thoughts drifting in the direction they were, so she turned to a clean sheet of paper. Two drawings, and many hours later, Kira cursed herself for the ninny she was. She placed her drawings neatly across the table, so as not to smudge them, and marched to her room to clean up and go to bed. 

"Mummy!" The shriek sent Buck shooting out of bed, too disoriented at first to comprehend that Kira was the one doing the screaming. He was wearing only longjohn bottoms, but chose the welfare of his wife over modesty. Grabbing his gun, then racing to the main bedroom, he burst through the door, only to see his tiny woman curled up in a tight ball, her body so wracked with sobs that Buck feared she would come apart. Frozen, Buck whispered, "Kira?" She tried desperately to repress her hysteria, but she only managed in making it worse. "Kira, what’s wrong?" Buck, lacking a better place, put his gun down on the floor, and made his way to the bed. Sitting at the edge, he reached out to put his hand on her back, but she flinched so powerfully that she almost threw herself off of the bed. He pulled his hand back, cradling it against his chest as if it had been wounded. "I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me what it is."  Buck knew he sounded ridiculous, but it had always been in his nature to want to help the people around him. He tried another strategy. "Do you want me to leave?" His answer was instantaneous. She latched hold of his arm with a strength her smallness concealed. She was taking in huge sniffling draughts of air, and Buck knew her incapable of speech at this point. He gathered her to him, and like a pair of spoons they rested until her breathing leveled out enough to talk. He began to gently rub her shoulder, his hand slid down her arm, and he laced his fingers in with hers. Even in the darkness of the room, he could tell the difference between the darkness of his skin and the lightness of hers. "You want to talk about it?" He was met with silence. Kira went still against him. "I didn’t mean to wake you," she murmured. "I’m sorry." Buck wouldn’t be derailed. "Why did you flinch when I touched you?" Her crying began anew. Wishing he were in a position to kick himself, he pushed his left arm beneath her head, and wound it around her until his hand rested on her shoulder. He pulled his right hand from hers, and began lightly peeling tear soaked curls from her face. "You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to." She nodded silently. He made a move to leave, but she hooked her hands over the arm he had wrapped around her. He took his left hand from her face, wrapped it around her waist, and pulled her more tightly to him. "Everything will be all right. You’ll see. It’ll all be okay. Just go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up." Buck had no idea how he was going to manage to spend a night curled around a beautiful woman that just happened to be his wife, and keep his hands to himself. The clean smell of her hair drifted to him. The thinness of her nightdress beckoned to him to notice her delicate feminine curves. He was continuously reminded of her breast resting against the crook of his arm as he cradled her. His entire body was screeching at him for the inactivity of a moment perfect for action. Buck steeled himself for a very long night. When that didn’t work, he tried picturing Teaspoon in his longjohns. 
 

Chapter 8

Kira awoke to the strangest sensation - contentment. She blinked her eyes eliciting a horse giggle. She was sprawled across Buck’s naked chest, with her head resting on his shoulder, and her hand resting on his smooth, hairless, bronze skin. She was quite shocked at herself, but was loath to remove her body from his. She inhaled the clean, male scent of him. Remembering his kindness the night before, she closed her eyes and prayed silent thanks for the divine man over which she was draped. She opened her eyes again, and again was met by Buck’s laughter. She peeked up at him through disheveled black curls, and rested her chin on his chest. "Is somebody ticklish?" She smiled wickedly, bending her head back down to subject him again to her fluttering eyelashes. 

Buck decided that he’d died in the night, and managed to make heaven because there was an angel atop him tickling him playfully with her eyelashes. He moved his hand to cover hers, and she settled into his chest. He was blissfully happy just to lie there and hold her. Last night had been difficult as well as wonderful for him. He’d had the worst time trying to leave her be and let her sleep, but he had also never been able to hold a woman all night long, and he never wanted to live without that again. He found himself fighting sleep because he wanted to revel in the extraordinary sensation of having Kira so close to him. He knew he was going to owe Teaspoon for this one for the rest of his life, maybe longer. He thrust his other hand into her wild mane feeling the silken texture of it. His mind began to wander in directions he didn’t want to deal with for the moment, especially considering what a tough night his new bride had endured. "How are you feeling this morning?" 

"Better, thanks to you. I’m sorry about waking you. I just had a bad dream." 

"That’s okay. I’m here anytime you need me. That’s what husbands are for. I was wondering if you might like to go to town to pick up some things today. I noticed that you didn’t bring much with you. I was thinking that we could go pick up some dresses that fit, and whatever else you need." 

"I thought you were to give me a tour of the barn today." 

"That can wait. I figured we could go out to lunch too, you know, make a day of it. Then, later this afternoon, if you’re not too tired, I’ll start giving you riding lessons. How does that sound?" 

"It sounds wonderful, but you needn’t spoil me so. I’ll be unfit to live with if you keep this up." 

"That’s the point." 

"Pardon?" 

"I want you so spoiled and happy that you won’t even notice other men." He had said it in a joking tone, but Buck was dead serious. There was no way he could handle loosing this sweet woman. He hadn’t even known her for a full twenty-four hours yet, and he was hopelessly attached to her. He already had so much affection for her that his heart seemed like it would burst. There was no doubt in his mind that given just a bit more time, this woman would be the love of his life. 

"Buck." 

"Yes?" 

"Seriously, you don’t have to do this." 

"I want to. I’m going to enjoy every second of it too. Anything you want today, I’ll buy it for you.  I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be happy." I want you to love me, Buck continued silently. 

Richard kicked over a small chest of drawers. Nothing. There was nothing here. Apparently, the newlyweds had lit out already. Richard had searched the room for some clue of where, but to no end. He kicked the upended chest again, for good measure. He noticed a clump of paper hanging out of a previously ransacked drawer. He had not considered it a clue then, but now, he grabbed the paper. It had once been a pad, but in his rage he’d torn it into clumps. He took the front page of the cluster, flattened it out, found a pencil, and lightly traced it over the page. Nothing. He dug up another clump, and tried again. Nothing. He took yet another, and repeated the procedure. There was an address for a town called Rock Creek. This had to be were Celene, her husband, and Kira had moved to. Triumphant, he shouted, "I’m coming for you, Darling. Daddy’s right on your heels!" He gave a manic peal of laughter, and headed out of the destroyed hotel room. 

Still settled comfortably in bed, Buck ran a finger tenderly over Kira’s cheek. 

"Tell me about your family, Buck." 

"Which one?" 

"Well how may do you have?" She wondered, confused at the odd question. 

"My white one and my Kiowa one." 

"Which one would you prefer to tell me about?" 

"Which one do you want to know about?" He grinned slyly. 

"Both." 

Taking a deep breath, he told the long horrible story of how he was brought into this world. "My brother, Red Bear, never seemed to notice that I was his half brother. He loved me like I was no different from him. I haven’t seen him in years. I miss him, but I know if I go looking for him I’ll only bring him trouble." He stared sightlessly at a dark curl wrapped around his finger. "I miss Ike the most, though. He was by best friend. We might as well have been brothers. I knew what he was thinking before he thought it." Buck smiled at the memory. "Sometimes it’s so hard to work with my animals because he was better with horses than anyone I’ve ever known, and if he were alive we would be partners." 

"What happened to him?" Kira gazed at Buck, quietly chewing her lip. 

"He fell in love." 

"I don’t understand." 

"Can we talk about something else?" 

"Of course. How did you meet with Teaspoon and the rest?" 

"I met up with them when I joined the Pony Express. It was tense at first, but we all turned into a real tight family." 

"I noticed. I didn’t know you rode for the Pony Express. I’ve read about it. Was it terribly exciting?" 

"Most of the time it was way too exciting. We were always in some kind of bind. You haven’t met the rest of the riders. Jimmy went off to do I don’t even know what, and Cody’s running some kind of traveling show. Noah died shortly after Ike…" Feeling his discomfort, she made a quick subject change. "How did Lou and Kid meet?" 

"Pony Express." 

"How did they meet through the Pony Express?" Buck couldn’t suppress his grin. 

"Lou was a rider. She dressed up as a boy to get the job." 

"Surely you jest!" 

"Nope, she was always just as tough as any of us. We had to keep it a secret from Teaspoon, but after a while he found out." 

"Well who told?" 

"Lou did." 

"Why on Earth would she do that?" 

"Well, she didn’t tell him on purpose. She was swimming and he decided he’d join her." Buck laughed out loud at the memory of Lou screaming her head off, and all of the boys running to her rescue only to see a dismayed Teaspoon shout, "Lou!" 

"How awful! Poor Lou!" 

"Everything turned out okay. Teaspoon didn’t fire her. In fact he was relieved that it was a girl Kid had been making googoo eyes at for so long. Tell me about your family." 

"There’s really nothing to tell. The only family I’ve ever known were my parents. My mother died when I was nine, and I’ve lived with my father ever since." 

"I only know what you wrote about your father. He sounds like a difficult man." 

"He’s a monster," she bit out. Brightening, she looked up at Buck. "Well enough with being lazy. What would you like for breakfast?" Buck was thunderstruck with the turn of the conversation, but he didn’t know what to say. He lifted his head to look out the window. Checking the position of the sun, he told her, "It’s getting on toward ten o’clock. We might as well get dressed and go out for an early lunch. We can stop by the Marshal’s office to visit Kid and Teaspoon if you like." 

"Sounds fabulous to me." 

"Well then, let’s go." 
 

Chapter 9

This was the proudest moment in Buck’s life. He was strolling down the boardwalk with a beautiful woman on his arm, and that beautiful woman was his wife. He took her to a dress shop first, because when he met her in the foyer he realized she only had that one ill fitting dress she’d worn the day before. They picked out four dresses, and Buck secretly ordered two more. She picked a spectacular forest green one to wear out of the shop. She was exquisite with her green dress and even greener eyes. Buck puffed out his chest a bit when he noticed the jealous looks the local men were sending his way. 

Their next stop was lunch. They sat and chatted quietly, getting to know one another. Buck’s feelings for his new wife were deepening with every word out of her mouth. He could listen to her speak all day. He realized, much to his delight, that they had a great deal in common in the way of thoughts and goals. Kira was talking animatedly about a painting she had once seen in a museum, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her. She was perfect. He would have laughed at anyone who said they had a perfect spouse, but she was. She was beautiful, bright, playful, and his wife. He was wondering if maybe he should ask for someone to pinch him. She couldn’t be real. Too late, he realized she had stopped speaking. She was looking at him curiously. He reached across the table to rest his hand atop hers. "I’m listening." There were no more words between the two. They just gazed at one another, faces heating, heart rates accelerating. The arrival of their lunch brought the young couple out of their stupor. They laughed shakily, both keenly aware of where things were heading. They finished their meal in companionable silence.  Buck really wanted to discuss her father some more, but he was afraid to upset her. He was wondering if the nightmare the night before could be attributed to her father. He fervently hoped he was wrong, but he was afraid that her father had hurt her. The very thought sent a rage-fueled fire through his veins. It made sense though. Abuse would explain why she was constantly apologizing for nothing, as well as why she constantly asked if it was all right for her to do even little things. He had first attributed it to nerves, but her behavior made more sense now. She must have been treated terribly by her father. That would also explain why she was constantly thanking him for his kindness and his gifts, and why she seemed uncomfortable with both. He resolved to ask her about it later. "Do you mind if we stop by the post office before we get back to our shopping?" 

"No, of course not." 

"I wanted to see if I got a reply from Emma and Sam. Did I tell you about them this morning?"  When she nodded in the affirmative, he went on. "I wrote them to tell them I was getting married, and I haven’t heard anything. So, I’m kind of hoping I’ll get something soon." 

"You don’t have to explain anything to me." 

"Yes, I do. You’re my wife, my partner. I plan on sharing everything with you. Even say…" He lifted one thin black brow at her. "A piece of chocolate cake?" 

"Really?" 

"Yup." 

"You’re not afraid I’ll get fat, or that it will make my skin break out?" 

"Is that you father talking, Kira?" Saying nothing, she fiddled with her fork. He continued. "Is he the one that told you that you were ugly?" Buck worried that the venom in his voice would frighten her, but the thought of a man treating his own child in such a way infuriated him. Her luminescent green eyes locked into his deep, rich, brown ones. She seemed to consider him, then came her solemn nod. "If I have to spend the rest of my life working at it Kira, I’ll prove to you how wrong he was." 

"How do you know he was wrong?" 

"Because I’m not a blind man. You are so beautiful, Kira. You could have had any man you wanted, but your father lied to you. He made you think no one would have you but him, didn’t he." It wasn’t a question. "Now you’re bound to a half-breed because of how he made you feel, less than what you are. Kira, you’re perfect." she just stared back at the intense man across from her. "You could have had any man." He reiterated. 

"But I want you." Buck stopped cold. He looked into her eyes. There was no uncertainty there, only a fire that burned with conviction. "I traveled across the world for you, Buck, not just any man. If that is the fault of my father, then it’s the one truly good thing I’ve received from him. I do not, nor will I ever, regret this union. I can’t understand why you keep expecting me too. You are the kindest, gentlest, most handsome man I’ve ever known." Her eyes bore heavily into his, and her voice took on a strong edge he didn’t recognize from this meek woman. "I will not have you belittling yourself, Buck Cross, do you hear me! If I have to spend the rest of my life proving to you how desirable you are…well, that’s just fine with me." She sputtered, "but know it!" Buck’s eyes were huge, mahogany, saucers. He blinked at her, speechless. A tentative smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Well, are we having cake or not?" 

Kira was on cloud nine. She was leaning on the arm of her husband with a belly full of chocolate cake, something she hadn’t had since she was nine. Her father had not allowed her sweets. She was a bit frightened that she’d overstepped her boundaries at lunch with Buck, but he’d simply grinned back at her and ordered the cake. Buck was such a wonderful man; she couldn’t imagine anyone not liking him. She had already decided that he was going to make an incredible father, now she just wanted to make him one. He’d shared with her that morning about what it was like growing up without a father, and he wanted so badly to play that role for a child of his own. She was so giddy at the though of having Buck’s babies that she hadn’t even realized they were at the door of the post office. Buck was looking at her strangely, holding the door open for her. She shook her head at herself, and preceded him in. They walked up to the desk and waited a bit, but no one showed. Buck sighed. "Oh well, we can come back after we’ve got our shopping done." Back on the boardwalk, Buck slipped his arm around Kira’s waist. She leaned into him, and laced her slender fingers in with his. They walked into the mercantile like that, and immediately caught Thompkin’s eye. "Hey there Buck. Who’s the pretty lady?" Buck strode up to him to introduce his new bride. "Mr. Thompkin’s, this is my wife, Kira. Kira, this is the shop owner, Mr. Thompkins." Thompkins looked at them, bewildered. Kira stuck her hand out, "How do you do." Taking it, Thompkins asked, "Where you from, girl, you talk funny." Catching the dangerous look on Buck’s face, the old man amended. "I didn’t mean nothing, ma’am, I just wondered where you were from to have an accent like that." "I’m from England, London 
specifically." She replied politely. "Well, if that don’t beat all. Buck, I didn’t even know you were courtin’ anyone. Congratulations," he added warmly. Buck had to hand it to him he was trying. 

"Thank you." Buck beamed back at his former nemesis. "We just came by to get a few things to make Kira a little more comfortable." 

"Go ahead. I have some new bath waters that smell real nice." With that he went back to work. Buck followed Kira around the store. She’d made a complete circuit of the shop, and had not picked anything up. "Kira, get anything you want." 

"There’s just one problem with that." 

"What?" 

"I want everything." Buck had to laugh at that. He held his arms out to her. "Well then, honey, load me up." Kira chuckled at his antics. "Well all right, you asked for it." Buck arms were thoroughly laden with everything from shampoo, to men’s overalls in Kira’s size, by the time Kira lead him to check out. "What are the overalls for?" Buck smirked at the thought of her in them. 

"Well I don’t want to ruin my new dresses painting, now do I?" 

"I guess not." Buck looked at Thompkins waiting for him to tell him the damage, and the number he uttered made Kira gasp. "Oh, I think I got a little too carried away. I’ll put some of it back." 

"Absolutely not. Anyway, you’re going to look too cute in those overalls to put them back!" Blushing deeply, Kira slapped him lightly on the arm. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes.  Thompkins was amused by the newlyweds’ antics. "You two have fun now," he said, giving Buck his change. Buck loaded the items into the buckboard, and headed to the Marshal’s office. 

Buck and Kira were greeted by Barnet, who refused to take his eyes off Kira. Buck shot him a warning glare. "Where are Teaspoon and Kid?" 

"Some crazy man set his mind to tearing up the saloon. He did a number on one o’ them saloon girls too. Doc said he don’t know if she’ll ever wake up." 

"That’s just awful, Kira cried, sympathizing with the girl. Buck didn’t want Kira in the jail when they brought the madman in, so he aimed to beat a hasty retreat. "Barnet, we need to get on home. Could you tell Teaspoon and the Kid we came by?" 

"Who’s we?" Barnet inquired, still staring at Kira. Buck was about to teach him not to gawk at another man’s wife with that look in his eye, but Kira beat him to it. "Sir, I am Mrs. Cross, and I would like remind you that staring is rude." Barnet, being too thick to realize he’d been insulted, said a simple farewell. 

As they walked from the Marshall’s office Buck grinned at Kira, "You sure told him." 

"I did, didn’t I?" She looped her arm around his. "Back to the post office now?" 

"Yeah." 

"I hope you have a letter from your friends." 

"That makes two of us." 

They entered the post office, and were immediately greeted by Miss Collier.  "Hello, Mr. Cross, I’m sorry, but your letter didn’t make it in yet. There is something odd though. A letter came in this afternoon for a Mrs. Cross, but there isn’t one, so I don’t know what to do with it." 

"Actually, Miss Collier, there is. This is my wife Kira." 

"Oh. Well, it’s nice to meet you, young lady. I’m Miss Collier, and this is yours." She handed Kira a thin white envelope. Kira was thrilled to be hearing from Celene so early. She was hoping maybe she could talk Patrick into moving Celene to Rock Creek to be nearer to her. Now that she had an address she could start on that mission, but looking closely at the envelope she noticed there was no return address. She hoped Celene had written it inside. Buck interrupted her thoughts. "Are you already that popular?" 

"It seems so. I’m sorry you didn’t get your letter, but I’m thrilled that I’ve already received word from Celene." 

"I need to thank her." 

"For what?" 

"Setting up that ad for you." He took her hand, and led her across the street to the waiting buckboard. Kira couldn’t stand the suspense. As soon as Buck had her seated comfortably, she tore open the letter. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She had assumed Celene would have wedding stories to tell, and pages and pages worth of things to say. But there was only one sheet of paper. Disappointed, she carefully unfolded the single sheet of paper. 

Dearest Kira, 

As soon as I arrived in the room I wrote down your address so that I wouldn’t forget it, so you should receive this well enough. I don’t know how he did it, but he found us. There was word about town that he knew we’d become friends, so Patrick traded our tickets in and we wed and boarded the boat a day earlier. When we ported in Boston, I thought we were home free, but I was walking past a hotel (not ours) and I heard him yelling at the 
proprietor about finding the three of us. He thinks we are traveling together. He gave her a description of us all. I rushed back to our hotel to tell Patrick, and we fled. We are headed to you. But this is to warn you. If he found us in Boston, he might find you in Rock Creek. Please be well my friend. I will soon see you. 

Be careful, Celene 

An odd sensation washed over Kira. She knew she wouldn’t be able to describe it if she wanted to. It was sort of like being blasted by a powerful furnace with, heat, terror, and anger, all mixed into one terrible weakening concoction. The letter fluttered from her hands. The sky grew dim.