Teaspoon and Kid stomped angrily into the Marshal’s office. They both knew that there were pieces of a puzzle to put together, but they weren’t sure what the puzzle was supposed to look like. They knew that the mystery man was nowhere to be found. He’d disappeared after he’d beaten the saloon girl. They also knew from witness reports that he talked funny. Teaspoon knew that could mean a lot of things. It could mean he wasn’t right in the head, other than being meaner than a hungry bear, anyway. It could mean he had an accent. He was leaning toward the accent explanation for the simple fact that he’d just met someone with one, Kira. Teaspoon was further disheartened by the tales about him looking for a runaway daughter whose description was very similar to Buck’s new wife. Teaspoon knew his old bones were trying to tell him something, but if his theory held water he just didn’t know how he would tell Buck. Teaspoon’s heart didn’t seem to understand that Buck wasn’t his own son. It overrode his head more often than not, and right now it said that if that girl were to cause his boy pain, she’d have hell to pay. He wasn’t sure how close Kid was to his own deduction, but he talked him into going on home to his wife. Teaspoon wanted to take care of this himself. He went to go chat with the newlyweds. On his way out he noticed that, Barnett had left him a note tacked to the door frame. He was relieved after reading it. Now he had a good excuse to show up unannounced on a pair of newlyweds. Heaven only knew what he’d be interrupting. He set off to drop by his own home to tell Rachel where he would be. He knew that the only hard part would be getting her to let him go alone.

Kira’s letter fluttering in the wind caught the corner of Buck’s eye. He had already started slowing the horses in order to retrieve the letter before he realized the reason the letter was floating lazily on the breeze. Quickly trying to halt the horses, Buck watched helplessly as Kira slid, as if boneless, to the floor of the buckboard. The second they were stationary, Buck leapt from the wagon, and ran to Kira. He pulled her from the floor, carried her to the back of the buckboard, and gently placed her there. He cupped his hand to her cheek. "Kira?" He patted it lightly. "Kira, honey, please wake up." She opened her eyes, stared blankly at him for a moment, and promptly began to babble frantically. Buck could catch little of what she said, and could comprehend nothing. He kept hearing "letter, letter" so he went to grab it. He walked back to her with it in his hand, but she just stared at him with wide, terrified eyes, as if he held a snake instead of a benign sheet of paper. "Honey what’s wrong?"

"He’s going to kill me. He means to kill me. He will, Buck. He will. He’ll hit me until I don’t move anymore, just like he did my mother. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Her words broke down into sobs.  She wouldn’t take her eyes from Buck’s. She wanted to plead with him to understand why she hadn’t been completely forthcoming with him. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, but the more she tried to force out the torrent of words that besieged her overwrought mind, the more hysterical she became. She actually let out a few manic giggles at the realization that she was more afraid of disappointing Buck than she was of being beaten to death by her father.

Buck struggled to digest what she was saying. He stared at the paper in his hand, understanding that it was the catalyst to this insanity. He didn’t want to read it. He wanted to go back to the perfect day he’d been sharing with his wife, but he needed to understand, so he read the letter.

She’d used him. She’d used him to come to America. He’d let another white woman take advantage of him. He’d given her his heart, and she lied to him. Buck fought desperately to bite back the rage that was boiling up, threatening to explode in a torrent of hateful words, just like he’d done with Tompkins months ago. He wasn’t that kind of man. He didn’t want to let other people’s treatment of him turn him into one either, but he just hurt so much. He wanted to just shake her until she understood how deeply his feelings ran for her, how deeply she’d hurt him.  "You lied to me," he ground out from between clenched teeth. He balled up the letter, and threw it. He lurched quickly forward to put Kira back into her seat in the front of the buckboard, but when he stepped toward her, Kira pulled her body into a tight ball, crossing her slender arms over her face to ward off blows. Her crying took on a heightened mania. Shocked, Buck stepped back. There were too many things fighting for dominance in his head. He was angry at being used. He was fighting the love he felt for her, he was injured that she’d think he was the kind of man who would hit a woman, he was furious that she had ever had to learn to take a beating wrapped up on herself to protect vital organs. He took a deep breath, stepped slowly forward, and picked her up. "I don’t hit, Kira," was all he said as he placed her in her seat. He had some thinking to do. He decided to drop Kira off at the house, and go to Teaspoon for advice.

Richard took his time looking around the house. It was a huge sprawling thing. Odd, he thought that Patrick’s family had disowned him without a dime. How they afforded this home was beyond him. He didn’t really care either; he was very calm after releasing some pinned up aggression at the saloon. The whore he’d worked over was a surprising pleasure. She had quivered, cringed, and cried. Kira never screamed and whined. She just took it. Leave it to Kira to suck the fun out of everything.

He went upstairs, taking everything in, looking, but not tearing anything apart. After all, the happy little threesome shouldn’t know they had a guest. He peeked into yet another room, and found it was an art room. Simpering brat finally conned someone into letting her play out a foolish whim.  On 
closer inspection, he noticed three drawings on a table, of a man he didn’t know. Well, well, his little whelp had a crush, how quaint.

Richard came to the last unexplored room. It was the largest yet, and the one with the most furniture. He supposed it to be Patrick and Celene’s room. He walked through it, peeking in the bathroom, and the closets. There was something odd here. He recognized one of the dresses in one of the closets as Kira’s. The other closet was full of men’s clothes. What was going on? He decided that it merited a closer search. He dug through shelves, looked under the bed, dug through drawers, and on a whim he pulled up the mattress on the bed. He found a couple of letters. He settled himself comfortably on the bed to read the letters.

"Bitch!" He screeched. Not only had she run off, she’d run of to marry a savage. This just kept getting better. He needed to find the wedding certificate, and destroy it. She was his property, and he was about to teach her the lesson of her life. He stopped searching almost immediately.  He heard the door open and close, and the sound of a woman crying. There were no more voices, no other people. He was almost sure that was the sound of his daughter’s crying. He’d heard it often enough through the walls of his own home. She was alone. He quietly chuckled. This was going to be fun.

Buck caught sight of Teaspoon before Teaspoon noticed him. "Teaspoon!" Buck stopped the horse at Teaspoon’s side. "I need to talk to you about something. You’re the only one that might be able to help me."

"Is this about your wife, son?" Buck nodded. "Well, I have some suspicion of what you might want to talk to me about. I just hope I’m wrong." Both men dismounted their horses, and began to walk side by side. Buck started. "She lied to me Teaspoon. She conned me into bringing her to the U.S.  I’m so hurt. I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s not."

"Well son, I have some bad news for you, and some worse news." Buck stared at Teaspoon waiting for him to continue. "Her pa’s after her. Did’ja know that?"

"Yeah."

"He’s here. He attacked a saloon girl today. We don’t even know if she’ll pull through. I don’t know what to tell you about the way she got here to you, but I can say that we need to get straight on to your place to make sure he ain’t there too."

The color drained from Buck’s face. Some of what Kira had said today at last clicked in Buck’s anger addled mind. "He’ll hit me until I don’t move anymore just like he did my mother." He hadn’t even listened to what she was saying. He’d heard all right, but he hadn’t listened. He’d spent so much time telling himself what a good husband he would be to her, but when she’d needed him, he abandoned her. Another horrible thought struck him. "Oh, no! I didn’t even check the house, and I never lock the…" Buck didn’t bother finishing his statement, he just mounted his ride, and took off.

Teaspoon followed at a fast clip. He worried the inside of his cheek. This could be bad. This could be very bad. Teaspoon wasn’t at all sure that Kira had lied to Buck, although he considered Buck very justified in being angry. He had likely been a victim of a lie by omission.  He still thought a lot of the girl, though. He’d had a good feeling about those two. He was old enough to trust his feelings. He just hoped Buck wasn’t too late to see what his own feelings were.
 

Chapter 11

Kira blinked her eyes. It couldn’t be. She was dreaming. She had to be. There was no way her father was making his way down her staircase, in her home. He had a malicious smile plastered on his hateful face. She was paralyzed. She knew she should be running out the door, but she was completely immobilized. She stayed in a pile on the floor just inches from the front door. A profound terror had stopped the torrent of tears. She gulped in huge draughts of air, knowing they would likely be her last.

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. I’ve been searching all over for you. You’ve been very hard to track down. You didn’t think you could get away from me did you?" His face changed from a forced amiability to that of a rage filled monster. She knew it well. His countenance was a mottled 
red. His eyes were dark and cruel. "I own you girl! You’re mine! Do you hear me, mine! You like being an Indian’s whore? A savage was the only one that would have you, yes? I’ll show you how much fun it is to be a whore!" His voice had reached a crazed crescendo that Kira had never heard before. He leapt at her. Before she could even react, he’d back handed her with the inhuman strength only the insane possess. She was thrown against the door, but she didn’t flinch. She just looked up at him while a livid mark grew dark on her face. He saw it for what it was, a challenge. Kira got to her feet, leaning against the door for support.  "I am a wife, not a whore. I am not your property, nor am I my husband’s. I am a person, and you no longer have power over me. I am Kira Cross, Kira Kyle is dead." She didn’t know how she spoke without exhibiting the quivering that ran through her entire body, but words said, she shot out the door. She made it from the porch, but then Richard was on her. He tackled her to the ground, rolled her onto her back, took her by the hair, and began slamming her head against the hard packed earth. Kira’s world went black.

Buck flew up the porch steps through the open front door, screaming Kira’s name. He was greeted by a deep silence. It was a wrong silence. There were no night sounds, no crickets, no nocturnal animals, there was only a thick absolute silence. He ran through the house screaming her name. The only signs of her were some drawings on the table in her art room. They stopped him dead in his tracks. They seemed to have their own gravity that pulled him to them. They were three drawings of him. Every line of his face had been lovingly drawn in such a manner, that he seemed to be alive, and looking out at himself. He felt sick. He felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach by an angry horse. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

"Son?"

Silence.

"Son, I found somethin’ you need to see."

Wracking shakes took control of Buck’s body. He turned to look at Teaspoon, searching for the knowledge he didn’t really want. "Did you find her?"

"No son, but I found a sign of her."

"He has her doesn’t he?"

"Yeah, come on. I need to show you." Buck obediently followed Teaspoon downstairs.

Buck stared at the red patch of earth. It began to swirl around like a hazy kaleidoscope. It was fresh enough that he could still catch the metallic tang of blood in the air. The smell combined with his swimming vision and spinning emotions was too much. Buck’s stomach lurched. He’d seen, and been involved in the bloodiest of gunfights and knife fights alike. He’d killed men, and walked around covered in their blood, but today a small patch of blood on the ground had him on all fours, retching like he’d never known any form of violence at all.

"You okay, son?"

"No."

"So are we gonna go find her, or are you gonna stay here and blame yourself awhile?"

"We’re going. I’ll track him."

"Want me to get Kid for back-up?"

"No time."

"What are you going to do when we find them, son?" Buck didn’t answer the question. He was on the move, already on his father-in-law’s tracks.

An awful smell dragged Kira back into consciousness. She opened her eyes only to find herself upside-down. She was hanging off of her father’s shoulder. He was talking, but she couldn’t make any sense of what he was saying.

"I’ll start the bidding at five dollars." Bidding? She wondered fuzzily. She was in a room full of men. They stank. Dirty. Yes, they were dirty men. Her head pounded from the effort of trying to string together coherent thoughts. Suddenly, the fog cleared from her mind. She came alive, kicking and screaming. She was in a saloon, and her father was trying to sell her as a whore. She was hanging helplessly against her father’s back. Her protestations seemed only to amuse the surrounding men. She could see nothing but the floor and a multitude of scuffed, dusty, worn-out boots. "Help me! Please, someone, help me," she pleaded. "Dear God," she wailed. "Please help me now!" Kira could hear the bidding. Her mind was a crazed haze. She could only repeat one thought, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.

"I got five dollars here mister," someone shouted.

"Yeah, well I got seven!"

"I have twenty dollars, right here in my hand mister." Everything went silent, then a disembodiedvoice rang out. "You could get a decent horse for that. Are you crazy?" Kira heard her father utter words that she just could not process; "You can have her for an hour. Be back here promptly. I’ll need to get her to the next customer."

"Yes, sir."

All reason left her, Kira began to scream.
 

Chapter 12

All sorts of awful scenes played out in Buck’s mind. He knew that if something terrible had befallen Kira it was his fault. As if on cue Teaspoon yelled over the roar of hooves slamming rhythmically into the ground, "It ain’t your fault son."

"Yes it is. I vowed just yesterday to love and protect her. And the very next day what do I do? I desert her. I don’t deserve her, Teaspoon."

"You care for her already don’t you son."

"She’s my dream woman."

"How can you know that after one day?"

"I mean she’s literally my dream woman. I’ve been having the same dream off and on since the night you gave me that mail order bride booklet. In it there’s a woman with black curly hair. I just realized that it’s been her all along. We were meant to be together. She was a gift to me from your white God, and I squandered it."

"I wanna hear this whole story, but you can tell me when we have your wife back safe and sound." The resoluteness in Teaspoon’s voice gave him comfort. Maybe he could still make things right. Maybe he could live the dream.

She was dragged from her father’s shoulder by the twenty-dollar bidder she assumed vacantly. He set her on her feet with her back to him, all the while keeping a firm grip on her waist. He shoved her out the door without her even getting a glimpse of his face. As soon as she was out of her father’s earshot, she pleaded. "Please, I’m a married woman. I beg you don’t do this. That man in there is crazy. He stole me from my home while my husband was away." She began to babble as tears cascaded down her pale cheeks. She decided that she wasn’t above begging to protect her virtue. It was so ironic that Buck’s thoughtfulness in giving her some time before marital consummation would make this predicament all the more horrifying. "Hush and hurry, Mrs. Cross. We don’t have much time to get you back to Buck before that man figures out what’s going on." Kira spun around.

"Mr. Tompkins! Oh, thank the heavens it’s you!"

"Do you know how to ride?"

"I’m afraid not."

"Well, the buckboard is too slow. We’ll have to double up." With that he heaved himself up onto his horse, and gave her a hand up.

"Do you know the man that tried to sell you?"

"Unfortunately, yes. He’s my father. He’s not taking the news of my marriage well, I’m afraid." Having no idea what to say to that, Thompkins remained silent. He was vaguely amused by the fact that Buck would be amused to see him with his trap shut.

Thompkin’s horse loped quietly around the back of the saloon, but as soon as they had cleared it they went racing toward her new home. She couldn’t take her mind off of Buck. She hoped desperately that he wasn’t so angry that he wouldn’t forgive her. She felt so much for him already. She could not have imagined that any man could be so kind, intelligent, considerate, and not to mention handsome beyond reason. She wanted to spend this night in his arms as she had done the night before. She wanted to know his kiss, his body, his secrets, his everything.

Richard lined up customers enough to occupy Kira for another six hours. He had every intention of utilizing every second of it. He exited the saloon, and headed for the house he’d found his wayward daughter in. He was going to take care of the husband so that his new business wouldn’t be ruined. 
It was so funny that for so many years he had not been able to make Kira scream, no matter how hard or how often he hit her, but the prospect of a night of pleasure had her howling like an alley cat. Strange girl he had. A huge smile split his face. He’d intentionally picked the roughest looking characters he could find to take care of her tonight. She’d be returned bloody, broken, and completely compliant to him, and he had not even had to dirty his own hands.

Kira spied something moving in the distance. She strained her eyes to see what it was, then the sound of hoofbeats reached her ears. She recognized Teaspoon’s white hair glowing in the moonlight. Quickly she looked to his side to see her husband. "Buck!" She yelled, trying to dismount before Thompkins could reign in the horse. He snatched her arm to keep her on the slowing horse. Dismounting fluidly, Buck ran toward Thomkins and Kira. "What happened?  Kira, honey, are you okay?" As soon as the animal stopped Kira lurched off of him, and ran to her husband. She was so relieved to see him, to hear him call her honey, that she couldn’t even speak. She stood clinging to him as if she drew her life’s breath from him. Buck kept trying to examine her face. It was swollen, and even in the darkness, he could see a dark bruise on her jaw. "Honey, let me see your face." She burrowed deeper into his chest. Thomkins hated to interrupt, but he knew that Kira’s father was probably on their tail. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but we need to move out. Her Pa is likely right behind us." Buck lifted his wife into the saddle without so much as batting an eye. Without preamble, he joined her in the saddle, and led the foursome back to his house. Kira wrapped her arms around Buck’s waist, pressed her face against his back, and inhaled the fresh scent of his hair. She was home. Where ever he was, she was home.

Buck didn’t know the whole story yet, but he knew that if Kira’s father was indeed on their trail, they needed to get to his house quickly. He didn’t like not knowing if he had men with him, or what exactly he intended to do. Buck figured that any man crazy enough to hit his own child would likely 
be out for blood, so he spurred his mount on.
 

Chapter 13

Buck led the small group up the stairs into his home. He locked the door behind them, and led them toward his dining table. Buck scooted two chairs together so that he could be nearer to Kira. Thompkins and Teaspoon sat on the opposite side. Taking Kira’s hand, he looked solemnly into her jade eyes. "What happened?" He asked quietly. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks. She cursed herself for them. She’d done nothing but cry since she got there, and she didn’t want Buck to think she was whiny. She straitened her shoulders, and opened her mouth.  Nothing came out. The absolute heinousness of what her father had done to her hit her full force.  "I-I need a moment." She directed her statement to the two men across from her. She looked to Buck. "May I speak with you privately?" Buck nodded. He could understand that Kira wanted to tell him what happened alone, but her need for privacy put him more on edge. Did her father do more then beat her tonight? Her entire face was swollen, and her jaw was a deep purple where she’d been backhanded. He wanted to know what she’d endured tonight, but the utter devastation written on her face gave him pause. Maybe he didn’t really want to know. He took her hand, and led her upstairs to their room. Before comprehending that he never shut interior doors, Buck opened the bedroom door. A deafening crack echoed through the house.  Simultaneously, Buck fell. Kira stood mute staring at the blood spreading on Buck’s shirt. She wavered, then dropped to her knees. She spared a glance at her father, who smiled triumphantly.  Her mind went blank, and her body began to function of its own volition. Deftly, she slid the knife Buck always had tied to his boot from its sheath. Now understanding what she was doing, and realizing that it had to be done, she tested the weight of the weapon in her hand. She ignored her father’s laughter and taunts. He did not think she would do it. He laughed at her; he always laughed at her. He laughed at her pain. He mocked what gave her joy. Looking again at her husband crumpled on the floor, she quickly prayed for accuracy. With all of her might, she threw the knife. It planted itself squarely in his chest. He stood there for a beat, confused, staring,
uncomprehending. Then, he dropped in a dead heap, with a solid thump, on the floor. Kira took Buck’s head into her lap. Buck?" She cried. "Buck! Please answer me." Buck looked lazily up at her. "Remind me not to make you mad at me, okay." Kira took his face in her hands, leaned over him, and kissed him firmly on the lips. "A place to start not making me angry is to refrain from 
getting shot!"

Teaspoon and Thompkins stared at the tableau. "We can’t be that late. The party’s already over?" Teaspoon quipped, bending down to check on Buck. "It’s just a flesh wound Teaspoon. I was turned sideways to let Kira in when he got me." Teaspoon inspected the long furrow in Buck’s chest. Relieved, he agreed with the young man. "I told ya women are a whole heap o’ trouble." He lifted his eyebrow and smirked at the couple on the floor. Thompkins went to drag the corpse from the bedroom as Kira and Teaspoon helped Buck to his feet. "I’m going to take out the trash, Teaspoon, and then I’ll go get the doctor to check Buck out," Thompkins called from down the hall. "Mighty obliged," Teaspoon yelled back. Placing Buck gently down on the bed, Kira went to go grab a clean towel and some water. In her absence Teaspoon sat on the corner of the bed next to Buck. "You got a mighty fine wife there, son."

"Tell me something I don’t know, Teaspoon."

"While you two were headed upstairs, Thompkins told me a little o’ what happened."

"Is it bad Teaspoon?"

"Worse than bad, son, and on top of it, she killed her father tonight. He might o’ been no good, but he was her pa. She’s bound to be upset when things settle down, and she realizes what she done."

"I know. I’ll be here for her, Teaspoon."

"I know you will son."

Kira bustled into the room. She crawled onto the bed opposite Teaspoon. She gently unbuttoned the buttons of Buck’s shirt, and opened it up so that she could clean his wound. She grimaced.  "This will likely be quite painful." Kira looked into his eyes. Momentarily forgetting herself, she leaned in to kiss him. Still holding his gaze, she hovered above his mouth for an instant. Slowly, she smiled at him, meeting his lips with hers in a feathery light caress. Teaspoon chuckled, and mumbled something about waiting for Thompkins down stairs. She ran her fingers down his cheek, and traced the line of his lips. Gently, she covered the path her fingers had traveled with tender, warm kisses. "Please don’t scare me like that again." She whispered her voice husky.  "Only if you do the same." He stared into the emerald depths of her eyes, gently reaching out to run his hand through her hair. He felt a knot hidden beneath its satiny layers. She flinched. Buck knit his eyebrows together in a painful looking grimace. Kira thought she was hurting him, and sat back from him. "Am I hurting you?" She queried. Tears shimmered in his eyes. "Kira what did he do to you?" Kira stared blankly back at him.

"He sold me," she stated matter-of-factly, dabbing gently at his chest with a cool rag.

"What!" Buck shot up in a sitting position, the fire in his chest spurring on his rage.

"He took me to the saloon, and he sold me." There was no emotion on her face. There were no tears, no anger, nothing, and that worried Buck tremendously. "Luckily, Mr. Thompkins was there. He bought me, with twenty-dollars, no less, and brought me to you." Still fretting over Kira’s lack of reaction in the matter, he’d never wanted to thank anyone so much in his life, the way he wanted to thank Thompkins. Buck didn’t really know how to phrase his next question.  "Kira did… he…hurt you?" Kira tilted her head, looking at him strangely. Suddenly his meaning dawned on her. "Oh! Oh, no. I’m still…you know…" She left her statement dangling. Buck was so relieved, he couldn’t even express what he felt. There were no words made for that kind of relief. "I won’t ever let you down again, Kira. I’m so sorry I got angry."

"Do you still want me?"

"More than ever."

"Looks like you have a wife then."

"No, looks like I found the love of my life." That’s when the tears started in earnest. Kira cried for joy, for relief, for helplessness, anger; she cried for every emotion known to man. Buck was there through it all. He held her when she wanted to be held. He left her alone when she needed it. He 
gave her everything he knew how to give, including his heart.
 

EPILOGUE

Thompkins, who had been thanked so many times he’d lost count, watched the young couple mill around the boardwalk waiting for the train. Buck had told him that they were going on a belated honeymoon to St. Joseph. He wished them well. Those two had been through so much. He smiled; never in a million years did he think he’d ever be fond of a half-breed. He had finally realized, though, that Buck wasn’t just an Indian, he was a man, a good man.

Celene looked around her best friend’s new house. It was absolutely cavernous. She was thrilled to be house sitting for Buck and Kira while they went on their honeymoon. She was hopeful that she and Patrick would be able to find a house in Rock Creek before her friend’s return. She wasn’t sure she would ever recover from the shock at finding Buck to be a terrific and even attractive man. Kira talked of nothing but him. Celine’s heart filled with joy. Her friend at last had what she deserved, happiness.

Kira and Buck were oblivious to all things around them. They were aware only of one another.  Buck had given her time to acclimate herself to her new life, to mourn her father, to deal with her actions, to heal. She was certain that the waiting had been torture for Buck. It had been difficult even for her, but the waiting was at an end. They had a honeymoon suite in St. Joe waiting for them, and she intended to put it to good use. She smiled up at him. Leaning into his, now completely healed chest, she whispered, "I love you, Buck Cross." Practically glowing with joy, Buck kissed her on the nose. "I love you too, Kira Cross."