He walked slowly down the street, a slight ache settling in his joints caused by the chill of the evening. Teaspoon would never admit it to the boys, he didn’t even want to admit it to himself, but he didn’t like the cold weather. In the mornings he’d feel stiff and it took a while for him to get going. He pulled his thick coat closer around him, and lamented the end of summer. 

He tipped his hat to several townspeople, before turning the corner past the blacksmith shop and heading for the station. The thin ribbon of smoke rising from the stovepipe in the bunkhouse pulled him closer with the promise of a warm room and a warm meal. Surveying the yard as he approached, he noted with satisfaction that the stock were fed and tended to. A brief smile of pride at his boys crossed his face; they sure were growing up. 

Opening the bunkhouse door, his senses were bombarded with the most delicious of smells. A veritable feast for the palate, and he hadn’t even taken a bite. He sat down at the head of the table and eyed the food laid out. A large roast sat ready to be carved, and huge bowls of vegetables and rolls added their delicious aromas. There was another smell in the room, teasing him, which he couldn’t quite identify, but it smelled like a slice of heaven. 

When the meal was over he leaned back in satisfaction and watched as Rachel stood and asked who wanted dessert. When she placed the dish on the table, he identified it as the source of the tantalizing aroma. Apple pie. The crust was golden brown, and flaked easily as his fork slid through 
it. Bringing it to his mouth, he arched an eyebrow as he looked at Rachel. She smiled at him over her coffee cup. 

“Delicious,” he said, the word rolling off his tongue with pure delight. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “I remember you once saying that you liked your apple pie with cloves.” 

“Yep,” he sighed, a distant look clouding his eyes. “Apple pie with cloves…I always loved it when she made it.” 

“Who Teaspoon?” Cody asked around a forkful of pie. 

“Hmm?” he shook his head, clearing the memory. Cody looked at him expectantly, but Teaspoon had turned his attention to other matters. 

“So boys, and Lou,” he said with a smile and a nod to the young woman, “got a letter from the company ‘bout some route changes they want to do. So listen up whiles I tell you ‘bout them so you don’t go getting yourselves killed by ridin’ where you ain’t supposed to.” 

Low grumbles went up from the table about having to once again change their routes. Rachel quietly collected the dishes from the table, gathering them up to be washed, while Teaspoon outlined the new proposals. 

That night Teaspoon headed to his room, grateful his deputy had the night shift. He was tired, and he knew he should sleep, but his mind was restless and would not settle enough for slumber to come. Throwing back the covers of his bed, he lit the lamp and then knelt on the floor beside the bed. Reaching under the old cot, he felt the smooth handle of the well-worn valise and pulled it out. Then settling it on the bed he undid the leather straps and lifted the top, leaning it against the wall. 

He shifted through the letters on top, reaching under the latest one from Amanda before pulling out the one he was searching for. He closed the valise and replaced it under the bed before sitting down and drawing the covers over himself. The cold seeped in through the walls, but the blanket was thick and warm and thoughts of the cold soon faded from his mind as he pulled the letter from the envelope. 

He couldn’t imagine that Rand was finally hanging up the badge. The man was made for the law, and the law for him. But it wasn’t the sadness over the thought of his mentor retiring that caused his insomnia this night. It was the last paragraph, mixing with the memories of the pie at dinner that night that he couldn’t get out of his mind. 

‘Well, Hunter, I hope you’re keeping yourself out of trouble. Are you still on the right side of the law or have you taken up occupying jail cells again?’ 

Teaspoon laughed at the way Rand always ended his letters to him. Not that letters between the two men were very frequent, but Rand could never pass up the opportunity to remind Teaspoon of the first time they met. Teaspoon understood it was Rand’s way of saying he cared and encouraging him to continue on the path he’d found while he was in Austin. 

He was angry. Of course lately, anger seemed to be a way of life to Teaspoon Hunter. Ever since that night he and several others had left the Alamo to find help, he’d been walking around shrouded in rage. He was mad at himself for listening to orders when he should have disobeyed them, mad because he left his friends and wasn’t beside them in the end, mad at Santa Anna and 
his men, mad at life and the world in general. 

Of course that led him to drinking in the hopes of feeling something besides anger. Anger and alcohol led to a great many bar fights and him landing behind bars before eventually being run out of town. In the two and a half months since the fall of the Alamo he’d wandered from town to town, until he’d finally come to Austin. 

The first thing he did upon arrival was find the nearest saloon. He didn’t even bother checking into a hotel, more often than not he ended up in jail the first night anyway. Not that he set out looking for trouble, it just always seemed to find him, and he wasn’t going to decline the dance when the lady asked so politely. So when the fight started and the marshal came he inwardly shrugged his shoulders in the knowledge that at least he was being consistent. 

After the first night in jail, he found a passable hotel and settled in and then checked out the local card games. He was enjoying a string of good luck, so he passed on the liquor, instead watching the men around the table pass their money to him. Until one afternoon, he started watching the money go the other way. He knew the man sitting across from him was cheating, but he was good, too good. No man has that good a run without aiding it himself, no matter what Cyrus Happy claimed. 

The more Teaspoon lost, the more he drank until he’d worked up the gumption to call Happy a cheat. Tempers flared, words were said, guns drawn and the marshal appeared. Both men were hauled to jail where Marshal Rivers gave both men an earful. 

“But he was cheatin’,” Teaspoon protested, pointing to the man in the next cell. 

“I know he’s a cheat,” the marshal answered. “But I also told you I didn’t want you causin’ no more trouble in the saloons.” 

He stared at Teaspoon before the younger man turned and stalked toward the cot at the back of the cell. Turning to the other cell he said, “And you, I’ve warned you before. Now I’m tellin’ you to get out of my town in the morning or you’ll be sorry.” 

Two hours later the cheat was sound asleep and Teaspoon was still grousing to the marshal over the injustice of it all. The door swept open and in walked the prettiest face Teaspoon had seen in quite some time. As his words trailed off, all he could do was stare at the vision before him. 

“Evenin’ Daddy,” she said, setting a basket down on the marshal’s desk. 
 

Chapter 2

The following morning Teaspoon was sitting in his office, which was warmed by the large stove in the center. His fingers were wrapped around a hot cup of coffee and he slowly sipped the steaming beverage as he gazed out the window. He glanced toward the empty cells and his mind started to drift back to the memories awakened last night. The door crashing open and Cody’s voice pulled him back before he could fully immerse himself in the past. 

Turning to Cody he said, “Cody, I don’t know if that door can survive you opening it like that too many more times.” 

Cody ducked his head slightly, “Sorry Teaspoon. Package came for you and thought I’d bring it on over to you myself.” 

Teaspoon laughed at Cody’s ‘gallant’ gesture and nodded his head, “Your eagerness to deliver this wouldn’t have anything to do with you tryin’ to weasel out of your chores would it?” 

“Ah, Teaspoon,” Cody groaned. “I just got back from my run, I thought I’d get a drink at the saloon.” 

“There’s water back at the station, and a heap of chores to do,” the stationmaster replied in mock seriousness. “You’ll just have to wait to get a sarsaparilla.” 

Cody heaved his shoulders in a sigh of defeat and headed out the door, while Teaspoon finished unwrapping the package in his hands. As he pulled out the letter he saw the gray socks, folded ever so carefully so that the red hearts sewn on the tops of the feet could be seen. His eyebrow arched as he pulled out the socks, turning them over in his hands and then he turned his attention to the letter. 

“Polly,” he breathed. “You never do fail to surprise me.” 

Teaspoon sat at the bar, simultaneously nursing a drink and a broken heart. When the marshal’s daughter breezed into the jail three days ago he was instantly smitten. She gave him a coy smile and a few pleasant words until her father had made a point of ushering her out of the office. As he came back in to eat the dinner his daughter delivered, he glared at the young man staring wistfully through the bars. 

“Three days,” Teaspoon snorted under his breath. “Three days and I still don’t know nothin’ about her.” 

Not that he hadn’t tried. The marshal’s daughter had to be known around town, but nobody seemed interested in sharing that information with the likes of him. He was ready to camp outside the jail in the hopes of seeing her again. Then a slow smile spread across his face and he turned to slowly scan the room. He had to hurry. It was almost dinnertime. 

“Hunter.” The voice of the marshal boomed through the saloon and instantly all fighting stopped. In the center stood Teaspoon, trying desperately to look properly chagrinned. The marshal strode over to him, while looking around the saloon at the overturned tables and busted chairs. 

“Afternoon Marshal,” Teaspoon said. 

“Hunter, why is that everyday this week, whenever I hear about a fight in a saloon I find out you’re in the middle of it?” 

“It just must be my charming personality,” Teaspoon said while slipping his thumbs under his suspenders. “People just can’t get enough of me.” 

“Uh-huh,” Marshal Rivers stated as he picked up Teaspoon’s hat off the ground before grabbing the younger man by the arm. Leading him out the door, the marshal didn’t even make a pretence of hanging onto his ‘prisoner.’ 

Teaspoon followed right behind the lawman and straight into the cell with the softest bed. A week straight of spending the night in jail, he’d discovered which cot had the softest mattress. The door clicked closed behind him and Teaspoon turned around and began eyeing the door to the street. He didn’t have to wait long until he saw the top of her dark hair bobbing across the street and straight the door of the office. 

“Evenin’ Daddy,” she said as she breezed into the jail. She looked at the cell where Teaspoon stood, one arm casually looped through the bars and the most jaunty smile perched on his lips. “Evenin’ Mr. Hunter.” 

Turning to her father she said, “Daddy, didn’t you let him out this morning?” 

“Yes,” her father huffed out. “And oddly enough, just before dinnertime I hear that there’s a fight in one of the saloons and who should I find in the middle of it, but Mr. Hunter.” 

“Another fight?” she asked, bringing Teaspoon over a plate of cold ham and biscuits. “What was it about this time?” 

“Well, you know me,” Teaspoon said, a rakish grin still firmly entrenched on his face. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Thank you Miss Rivers.” 

Taking his plate he went back and sat down on his cot to enjoy his dinner, while she went back to sit beside her father. 

“Thank you Polly,” her father said as she sat down. “I sure do appreciate you bringing dinner by. Funny how you hardly ever used to bring it, but after that first day you saw Mr. Hunter you haven’t missed a day.” 

“Well Daddy,” she said with a nervous laugh, “I gotta make sure you’re eatin’ right.” 

He merely regarded her as he took a bite of his roll, but said nothing more. When dinner was finished and she was collecting the plate from Teaspoon, the marshal finally broke the silence. 

“Well, Hunter, I’ve been thinkin’ about your predicament. Seems to me, this town’s been bearing most of the burden around here in housin’ and feedin’ you. And while I love seeing my daughter’s beautiful face here everyday, I think I’d feel a whole lot better if I knew she was coming to visit someone who wasn’t always in trouble with the law.” 

He paused, and took a sip of his coffee before continuing on. “So, here’s my proposal. I need a deputy, you need honest work, and I’d sure feel a whole lot better about my daughter seein’ you if you was my deputy as opposed to my prisoner.” 

Teaspoon stared at the marshal like the older man had grown a second head. “Your deputy?” 

“Yep. I see somethin’ in you Hunter. I think you just gotta get out of the whiskey bottle and you’ll see that you got a good sense of right and wrong and a good head on your shoulders. Seems to me, those are the qualities needed in a lawman. Course if you think you’re not up to the challenge and would rather just live your life drifting from one bar fight to the next, then I’m afraid it’ll be time for you to move on to a different town.” 

Teaspoon’s brow arched defiantly. “I think I’m up for the challenge.” 

“Excellent,” the marshal said as he stepped to the cell and unlocked the door. “Raise your right hand so this is all nice and legal like.” 

Once Teapoon was sworn in and his gun belt returned to him, Marshal Rivers indicated for him to take a seat at the desk. “Well, deputy, hope you have a quiet night. I’m going to head on home and spend some time with my daughter.” 

Teaspoon watched the door close and blinked in an effort to stop the room from spinning. He felt like he’d just been caught in a twister and he wasn’t quite sure how it’d happened, but he now wore a tin badge and had caught the eye of the prettiest lady in town. 
 

Chapter 3
 

It didn’t take long for the whole town to start talking about the new deputy and the marshal’s daughter and the whirlwind courtship between the two. So when the wedding took place, half the town was there to wish the couple well. The other half was making wagers on how long before the new deputy reverted back to his old ways and left the marshal and his daughter heartbroken. Teaspoon however, was determined to prove all the naysayers wrong and to prove to his father-in-law, Rand, that the older man hadn’t made a mistake by claiming there was good inside the ex-soldier. 

“Polly,” he called out as he opened the door to their home. “Polly?” 

“I’m in here Sugarlips,” came her groggy reply. 

Teaspoon walked into the front room and noticed her sleep-laden eyes and suspected that once again he’d waken her by his return home. 

“I’m sorry Polly,” he said as he sat down beside her on the settee and pulled her close. “Guess I kinda lost track of time again.” She snuggled up against him and leaned her head on his chest. “What was it this time?” 

“A brawl at one of the saloons, had to get all the paperwork filled out,” he said as he brushed his fingers through her long hair. 

Polly sat up and looked him in the eye. “Teaspoon, you know Daddy has said that as long as you get the paperwork done by the next day you don’t have to stay late to do it. I had dinner waitin’ for you ‘cause you promised you’d be home on time tonight.” 

“I’m sorry Polly,” Teaspoon replied, genuinely regretful for missing dinner. “But you know how important this job is to me. It’s the first thing I’ve done on the right side of the law and I don’t want to let your father down. He’s the first person who’s ever believed in me.” 

“I know,” she said, resting her head again against him. “I just miss ya sometimes is all, but I know you’re happy. At least the dinner didn’t go to waste, Clint stopped by hopin’ to see you and I invited him to stay for supper.” 

“Well, I’m sorry I missed dinner with two of my favorite people. I’ll make it up to you both real soon.” Drawing her close to his side he said, “Feels a little chilly in here tonight. Want me to put some more wood on the fire?” 

“Well, you could do that,” she whispered in his ear, “or we could find other ways to keep ourselves warm.” She turned him away from her and began to kneed her fingers over the tense muscles in his back. 

Teaspoon arched his back, feeling the tension bleed out of his muscles. “Polly, you know I love your magic fingers, but I’ve actually got to pack up tonight.” 

“Pack?” Polly asked, finding a new spot on his back. 

“I’m leavin’ in the morning. Some bushwacker has skipped town and I gotta go after him.” 

Polly’s fingers ceased their movement and she stared at the back of Teaspoon’s head. “You’re leavin’ in the morning? What about our plans to head up to Waco Village next week?” 

Teaspoon turned and cupped her face in his hands. “Polly, as soon as I get back, I’ll make it up to you. I swear. I gotta do this. I’m the law and it’s my responsibility to track this vermin down.” 

“Well, then, I guess you better pack,” Polly said as she got up and headed into the kitchen. “I’ll put some food together for you and then I’m goin’ to bed. You’ll wake me before you leave?” 

He nodded, and then watched as she disappeared from view. He was going to have to do more than take her to Waco Village to make this up to her when he got back. But he couldn’t just go shirking his responsibilities. He was the law and she would understand that, wouldn’t she? 

“I was ten kinds of fool,” Teaspoon muttered to himself as he walked from the station’s yard and headed into town to relieve Buck. His conversation with Rachel played over in his mind. He’d gone off and left Polly for six months. Six months. Then he came home to find out she’d taken up with his best friend Clint. He’d been so angry, until he finally sobered up and looked at it from her side. 

She truly was too much of a woman to live the life he’d put her through. They’d been happy and had some good times, but he was a little full of himself at the time and he hadn’t been there for her like he should have. It hurt, looking back, to see where he’d wronged her, and in the end cheated himself from what could have been a truly wonderful life. He could have been a father, maybe soon to be a grandfather. 

Not that Teaspoon didn’t love the riders and consider his own children. Just lately the past had been creeping up on him, teasing him with what-ifs and could-have-beens. Old friends were dead, young ones taken before their time. He felt the weight of the past heavy on his shoulders like a big sack of feed from Tompkins store. 

‘Enough old man,’ he chuckled to himself. ‘You still got plenty of fire in you yet.’ 

The sound of Buck’s yell and a gunshot pulled Teaspoon out of his thoughts and back to the present like a runaway train. Marty lay dead on the boardwalk in front of the barber’s office and Randall stood in the street, holstering his gun. 

“Randall,” Teaspoon growled, striding forward. All thoughts of Polly had to be harnessed and set aside. He had to concentrate on the job before him. Townspeople were going to be demanding answers, he was going to have to explain to Marty’s mother how the young man had died under his protection, and he had to focus on the present. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder what Rand would advise him to do in this situation, and he couldn’t help but feel the loss that he didn’t have Polly to talk things through with. 
 

Chapter 4

He should be able to handle the stares. As the marshal, Teaspoon was used to having people not like the decisions he’d made. Sometimes he didn’t like them himself, but the law was the law and most often it worked. It was the times that it didn’t that really stirred his anger and made him want to forget he wore a badge. But wearing a badge was such a part of his life that he always seemed to come back to it; he never could stay away for long. 

It tore him up inside that Randall had been released after his trial for shooting Marty. It wasn’t the boy’s fault he wasn’t as good with a gun as the shootist, and the boy had called Randall out. Yet Teaspoon felt to blame somehow, and that he’d let Marty’s kin and the town down by telling the 
truth. Randall had walked because of his testimony, but he couldn’t lie. 

He still couldn’t believe Murphy had wanted him to lie. What had happened to the man? Had the power of being a Territorial Marshal and hobnobbing with officials gone to his head that he thought they were above the law? Teaspoon knew he couldn’t bend the law like that, because the day he ever did that, he’d be worthless as a marshal. Rand had never had to comment on that, Teaspoon just knew it by watching the man. 

He’d worked hard in his life to be the kind of man Rand had been. If ever he’d had a situation he didn’t know what to do, he’d simply think about what Rand would do and the picture became clear and uncluttered. So there was no doubt in his mind he was going to tell the truth in the trial, even though it got his goat that a man such as Randall went free. 

He knew Rachel and the boys were behind him, he knew he’d have Murphy to deal with, but he just wanted to go to his office and be by himself. He needed to get a handle on all his thoughts of Rand. More than that, he needed to steel himself for Polly’s impending arrival. The thought of seeing her was making him feel like a schoolboy about to go to his first dance. 

Suddenly a pair of deliciously soft lips stopped him dead in his tracks. Lips that he remembered well, despite the passing of twenty-four years. “Hello, Sugarlips. It’s been a long time.” 

“Polly?” he sputtered. 

“Hickock!” 

The name came out in a growl as the cot in the cell was thrown over against the wall. Teaspoon looked down at the frame on its side, the mattress and blanket flopped over, before he resumed pacing the small cell he was locked inside. He’d been placed there last night after he got into a row with Randall and thoroughly smashed up the bar Polly and the boys had worked so hard to fix up. 

He felt guilty for the mess, but not the fight. Marty’s brother had called Randall out, seeking revenge, and now their mother had another son to bury. Once again, Teaspoon’s hands were tied because the boy had called the gunfighter out and lost the fight. Murphy was stirring up trouble, harassing Randall, and now instead of being able to go after Randall, he had to worry about keeping a rogue lawman in line. 

All this combined with the stunning news Polly gave him about Rand. Dead before he could even hang up the badge. Something like that wasn’t supposed to happen to a good man like Rand, getting shot in the back by the outlaw he was trying to protect. What was this world coming to? 

It all came to a head last night when he decided to ignore the fact that he wore a badge and took on Randall in a fight. Randall was drunk, had just been turned out of Polly’s bar and was about to throw a chair through the window. Teaspoon had had enough of everything, and a fight with Randall was 
just the right excuse to blow off his anger. And so in a fight reminiscent of his brawls in Austin, he’d cleaned the floor with Randall. Then Jimmy promptly threw him in jail. 

This morning Jimmy refused to let him out because the younger man knew that Teaspoon was still itching to take on Randall, especially when he heard what happened to Polly. Polly, his sweet, gentle wife had been attacked and raped by Randall. And yet Jimmy refused to let him out so he could go after the man. It wasn’t right. He should be out there, hunting that snake down and setting things right. Instead he was stuck in here, trapped like some animal while Jimmy refused to yield. At least Buck had the good manners to look a little torn before he’d ignored Teaspoon’s pleas and followed Jimmy. 

Now he was alone and pacing up and down the length of the cell raving inside at the injustice of the world. A murderer goes free so he can murder again and an honest lawman like Rand gets gunned down. Where was the sense, the justice? Teaspoon growled again in utter frustration and kicked blindly at the cot. All he succeeded in accomplishing was bruising his toe and stirring up choking clouds of dust. The pacing finally ceased and Teaspoon sank to the floor, his back sliding down the bars separating the cells. Once he was still he dropped his head to his chest in complete defeat. 
 

Chapter 5

Teaspoon sat on the now righted cot, head back against the rock wall, eyes closed and thinking. In the hours that he’d been alone, he’d had plenty of time for that. He’d run the range of emotions, anger to depression until finally reaching a peace of sorts. He’d also finally figured out why Jimmy had left him locked up. 

He’d been so busy being angry with Randall, Murphy, and Rand’s death that he’d overlooked something important. It took him twenty-four years, but he realized that he’d been overlooking Polly for quite some time. If he had realized the wonderful woman she was back then, he wouldn’t have wasted six months tracking down a criminal he never found. And if he’d realized what Polly was truly saying beneath her words, he wouldn’t have been so worried about the injustice to him or his town and seeking revenge. Instead his first thought should have been how he could help her after what had happened. 

She came to Rock Creek because now that her father was dead she wanted to be around family. Family. After everything that happened between them, she considered him family still and she wanted to be near him. Now that he’d had time to think he realized he felt much the same way. She was here now and he wasn’t going to be fool enough to turn his back on her again. He would be there for her, help her in any way he could. 

The door opened and Teaspoon opened his eyes to see Rachel walking in with a basket of food. He didn’t even realize it was lunchtime already. He stood up and walked to the front and leaned against the bars. He just hoped that he could convince her to help him.

Teaspoon walked slowly down the street toward Polly’s bar. Once he’d convinced Rachel to get the spare key to the cell and let him go he’d caught up with Jimmy and Buck as they cornered Randall. He knew he should see Polly, and he had every intention of going to her, but there was something he needed to settle with Randall first. It wasn’t just for him; he was doing this for Polly as well. She needed this. She needed peace of mind. 

Nearing the bar he saw the ‘Closed’ sign hanging in the window. Closed in the middle of the day? That didn’t seem like Polly. He looked through the glass and she was sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He paused for a moment before going in and snippets of their conversations ran through his mind. 

“…while I normally don’t make comparisons, she was one of the best.” 

“Did you ever get it right?” 

“Nope, came to the conclusion it couldn’t be done.” 

“So, you got a girl?” 

“Nope, my heart can’t take the aggravation.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

“Oh Polly,” he sighed as he opened the door and walked inside. 

She looked tired, defeated and ready to give up. This was not the Polly he knew and loved. That Polly was a fighter, a girl who could fall in love with an outlaw and turn him into a respectable lawman. That Polly would not close up shop and think about leaving town. He just needed to help her see that. Tucking the sign under his arm he rubbed her shoulders, hoping to infuse the spirit back into her. It was also just something they did, massage the tension out while cheering the other one up. 

He knew he could twist the boys’ arms again to get them to help fix the place up. Free sarsaparillas, plus his legendary charm, would have them volunteering in no time. The smile came back to Polly’s face as she could envision the bar re-opening, staying in town, being near him. 

“I wanted to start over.” 

“Well, why don’t you stick around a while and give it a shot?” 

He sat beside her and took the drink she poured. He toasted to Polly’s Place, but in his heart he was toasting to new beginnings. To the two of them getting a second chance. 

Her smile warmed him, buoyed him up and set his romantic heart a fluttering. Perhaps he’d been too hasty when he declared he’d never love again. After all, it wasn’t a new love if you never stopped being in love with the person in the first place.