Chapter One

Lou crashed the door to the Marshal’s office open angrily, striding forward as though carried along by hurricane winds.  Brought up short when the dangling strap of her small handbag caught on the doorknob, her brow furrowed and storm clouds danced behind her eyes.  Whipping the useless purse free, she was barely untangled before her skirt proved to be as unruly as ever. When she was sent stumbling against the wall, she found herself muttering obscenities that would make a sailor proud.  She finally dropped exhausted into the spindle-backed seat, draped her leg over the arm of the chair in a most un-ladylike manner, and cursed long skirts, buckboards, hatpins, and most of all… marriage!

Teaspoon raised an eyebrow.   The time had long come and gone that anything his riders – former riders, he correctly mentally – did could shock him.  Now and again they might be able to startle him, he admitted.  Perhaps even surprise him.  But shock?  Never.  That’s what came of bein’ a substitute Pa to seven boisterous youngsters and watching ‘em grow to adulthood.  Eventually, you started to feel a bit jaded. 

“Anythin’ you feel like sharin’, Louise?” he asked amiably. 

“No!”  Lou sat back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest, and seethed.

So, she was going to be like that, was she?  Teaspoon sighed.  He hated it when they got ornery, especially Lou.  The bee in her bonnet was always the hardest one to send back to the hive.

As though she’d read his thoughts, Lou’s hand drifted upward to her straw hat.  If this hat was part of some master plan to vex her, she inwardly fumed, it was doing a fine job.  Yet another pin came tumbling out of the mass of metal she had used to fasten the contraption into place.  She stared at it for a moment before sending it flying across the room.  The CLICK as it ricocheted off the bars of the cell set her teeth on edge.

Teaspoon perched upon his desk and ran his thumbs under his suspenders, mentally wondering how many times he was going to have to ask before she finally gave in and told him what was wrong.  Considerin’ this was Lou, he figured on at least five.  Maybe six, taking into account the fire in her eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Lou?”

Lou pouted.  “Nothin’!”

Pointing out the window, he indicated the buckboard in which she’d ridden up.  The conveyance was hitched to the rail all right – but at a 45-degree angle, and with one sturdy wheel practically on the boardwalk.  “You plannin’ on enterin’ the buckboard in some kinda new-fangled rodeo contest, maybe?”

He was hoping for a smile.  He got a blistering look that woulda melted the skin off the bones of a lesser man. 

“I was in a hurry,” she responded sullenly. 

Time for a new approach.   From Teaspoon’s experience, there was only one thing that could put that kind of blaze in a woman’s eyes.  That one thing, he reflected, was a man.   “Was it—”

“Urrrgghh!”  Lou jumped up from the chair.  “He’s drivin’ me CRAZY, Teaspoon.  I swear, I can’t take it anymore.  And he never used to be like this.  Did he ever used to be like this?  I can’t remember him ever bein’ like this!  Not when we was courtin’, not even after we was first married.  It’s only been since… since we…” her arms flailed in the air, “ever since this…”

“Ever since you found out you was goin’ to have a baby,” Teaspoon supplied calmly.

“YES!”  She whirled on the Marshal with a triumphant look before pacing up and down the small room.  “Now all of a sudden he’s making all these decisions about me.  Things I should and shouldn’t do.  Things I can and can’t do.  Nobody tells me what to do, Teaspoon!”

“Well, Louise—” 

“And it’s the way he says it, you know?  All sweet, like it’s not up to HIM.  Like he’s just tellin’ me what I need to know.  Like he’s helpin’ me out or something.”  She pitched her voice to a simpering whimper.  “’Louise, they say ridin’ ain’t good for the baby… you got to think of the baby, Lou’.”

“That don’t sound like—”

“When’s he ever even been around a baby, that’s what I want to know!”

Pacing.  Back and forth. 

“Louise—”

“Oh okay, that one time,” she conceded more to herself than to the Marshal.  “But other than that, he don’t know nothin’ more about babies than I do.  And I AM thinkin’ of the baby!”

Seven steps forward.  Turn.  Seven steps back.  He was getting dizzy just watching her. 

“Lou—”

“But when he started talking about confinement!  Well, I can tell ya right now Teaspoon, that I ain’t lockin’ myself in the house for three months!  Urgggh!”

Never one to miss a convenient opportunity, Teaspoon stepped forward quickly and put his hands on her shoulders.  Any more pacing and he was going to get a headache. Not meeting any resistance, he steered the young woman back to her chair. 

“Have you talked to him?”

“Talked?  I’ve talked till I’m blue in the face.  Talkin’ don’t do no good if the other person ain’t listenin’.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Teaspoon asked, “So whatcha thinkin’ of doin’, Lou?”

She ducked her head, the motion causing the last of the hairpins to scatter to the floor and the bonnet to speedily join them.  She kicked at the sun-hat half-heartedly, sending it skittering along the floorboards.  When she spoke, it was the voice of Lou McCloud that he heard, not the grown-up woman that she’d become. 

“Dunno.”

“Lou…”

Now the voice was barely a whisper.  “Leavin’,” she admitted guiltily.

Teaspoon leaned back on the desk, thankful that Lou was still watching the floorboards.  Had he really thought that his Express children couldn’t shock him?  Just went to prove that there was still a lot this old man could learn, he reflected soberly. 

Touching her arm, he said softly, “That ain’t somethin’ I ever thought I’d hear from you, Louise.  I always figured you as a fighter.”

When she raised her eyes to his, he was heartened to see that the fire was back.  “I ain’t a quitter, Teaspoon.  But you don’t know what it’s been like.  You don’t know… He’s been makin’ me feel like… makin’ me feel like I can’t think for myself, and that I’m bein’ selfish.”  Her hands went unconsciously to her still-flat stomach.  “I want this baby more than anything, Teaspoon.  But he ain’t the only one that gets to decide what’s right and what’s wrong for it.”

“Lou,” he said, drawing a chair opposite her, “ain’t no marriage on this earth going to get by without the husband and the wife learnin’ to compromise.  Fact of the matter is, compromisin’ is the hardest thing you ever got to do, ‘specially if you’re the independent type that’s used to bein’ on your own.  And when you put two independent types together, you can both spend so much time talkin’ that you don’t spend any time listenin’ to the other!  You’re used to your word bein’ the be-all-and-end-all of everything, and when somebody else suddenly has their own way o’ lookin’ at things, it can be pretty hard to take.  Why, when I met my first wife I’d been off on my own for two years, livin’ on the plains up in the Iowa Territory.  I was a trapper back then—”

“Uh… Teaspoon…” Lou started to rise from her seat, mentally calculating the number of steps she’d have to take to get from the chair to the door.  She’d come looking for a sounding board, maybe a little sympathy.  She definitely didn’t expect a patented Teaspoon Tale.  Talking this out with Rachel was sounding better and better every minute!

“You came here to get my advice. Don’t say you didn’t, ‘cause it won’t work,” Teaspoon admonished as Lou opened her mouth to protest.  Mouth closed with a snap, Lou re-settled into her chair, though her indignant look proved she didn’t like it. 

“Now I’m goin’ to tell this story MY way,” Teaspoon announced genially.  “You can stay and listen or you can go home and try to figure out what to do on your own.”

Lou grimaced.  She loved Teaspoon dearly – he was the father she never had – but sometimes she just wanted to grab that grimy bandana around his throat and PULL.  Somebody would’ve done it by now, she reflected, if it hadn’t turned out that practically every bit of advice the old man gave turned out to be solid.  Once in the early days of the Express, she’d started a betting pool with Buck and Cody.  They were tracking how many times any of the riders said, “we should’ve listened to Teaspoon!”  Cody won when the figure reached double-digits in the first week. 

Leaning back in her chair, she sighed and grumbled, “I’m listenin’.”
 

Chapter Two

“Like I said, I was a trapper in the Iowa Territory back then.  I was up north, in that part of these United States that’s now called the Dakotas.  ‘Cause there weren’t no state o’ Iowa back then, you understand,” Teaspoon explained smoothly.   When Louise rolled her eyes, he pretended not to see it.  That was another thing he’d learned to do as a substitute Pa – filter out the stuff that didn’t matter.  With the wild bunch he’d been saddled with, he’d had to use that particular ability quite a bit.

Teaspoon cleared his throat.  “I’d been on my own for a coupla years by then.  After we lost the Alamo, I just didn’t want to be around towns no more.  Frankly, I didn’t want to be around people no more either.  Iowa Territory was just what I was lookin’ for.  An untamed land, and most o’ the only people on it was the Indians that had been there for more gen’rations than I could figure out.  I stayed away from the settlements that had sprouted up here and there.  That suited me just fine too. 

“But I made friends with some of the Indian tribes up those ways.  Some of them friendships have lasted till this day.  I’d stop for a few weeks, do some tradin’, and then carry on.”

“Trading?”  Lou’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  Images of Indian Agent Walker and Hezekiah Horne’s son danced across her memory.  She knew Teaspoon couldn’t be capable of that kind of duplicity… but Buck always insisted that there were NO good trades, at least as far as the Indians were concerned.  “What did you trade ‘em?”

“Information, mostly.  See, my path didn’t just cross with the Pawnee.  I met up with Crow, Hunkpapa, Cheyenne.  AND the herds they followed,” Teaspoon explained patiently.  “And I was happy to stay just a coupla weeks with Cloud-Walker’s tribe ev’ry few months before moving on.  Until I met Brown Sparrow.”

Aloysius “Teaspoon” Hunter waited at the edge of the clearing.  He’d already passed the sentries posted at the far end of the camp, and was still marveling at how much the brave Crescent Moon had grown in the six months since he’d last visited the Pawnee village.  Surveying the busy encampment, he found himself agreeing with Crescent Moon’s assessment of the previous winter.  The tribe appeared thinned out a little, but the spirits had indeed blessed the village.  He had expected the harshness of the weather to have taken a far greater toll.

“You have returned, my friend.”

Lips buried beneath a mountain of bristly brown whiskers quirked into a smile as Teaspoon spun to greet his friend. Cloud-Walker had managed to make his approach without generating a single sound.  Teaspoon expected nothing less.

“Figured you’d be gettin’ lonely without me by now,” he said warmly, pulling Cloud-Walker into a bear-hug.  Didn’t matter how many times he came back to this village, Teaspoon mused, he was always surprised at how good it felt to be among people he could trust.  Maybe he was gettin’ tired of the solitary life? 

“We did miss your stories around the campfire, my friend,” Cloud-Walker conceded with a returning grin.  “How goes the hunt?”

Teaspoon indicated the fur-laden travois attached to his horse.  “Reckon I got enough to last me a good ways,” he answered as Cloud-Walker beckoned two boys to deposit the furs with those belonging to the tribe until the end of Teaspoon’s visit.  As the two men walked towards Cloud-Walker’s teepee, Teaspoon continued, “Got snowed in up near Bullfrog Hill near about two months ago.  It was a tough winter.”

Cloud-Walker nodded soberly before holding open the flap of his tent and indicating that Teaspoon should enter.  The trapper bent to comply when a motion caught his eye.  Gathering around the communal pot at the center of the village, the women of the tribe were preparing the evening meal.  Voices chattered and buzzed at a distance as they cooked, while children dashed among their legs and generally got into more trouble than they were worth.  But it wasn’t the steam rising into the cool air that had caught his attention, nor was it the noise or the games of the children.  It was a simple toss of long ebony hair. 

She wasn’t the most beautiful woman of the village.  She wasn’t the most patient, as evidenced by her quick tongue when Night Bloom’s son Soaring Eagle got in her way.  She wasn’t the most worldly, for she could hardly be more than seventeen.  But one casual flip of dark braid and Teaspoon Hunter was captivated. 

“Who’s that?” he asked through lips suddenly as parched as a desolate wilderness.

Eyes crinkling in amusement, Cloud-Walker asked, “Do you not recognize the third daughter of Wild Horse?”

“THAT’S Brown Sparrow?”  Teaspoon almost choked on the words.  Had he only been gone six months?  The Brown Sparrow he remembered was a child, and this… this was a woman.  An attractive and fascinating woman.  As he watched, her eyes flicked to his, apprised him quickly, and flicked away.  Teaspoon glanced at his rumpled and filthy clothing, never more aware in his life of how unappealing he looked.  And smelled!  He hadn’t had a bath in over a month!  He rubbed a hand over his overgrown whiskers in disgust, before realizing that Cloud-Walker was watching him with undisguised enjoyment. 

“Perhaps our talk can wait until you have bathed in the stream?” the tribal war-chief suggested laughingly.

“Cloud-Walker,” Teaspoon clamped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, “you are a very wise man!”

“So did ya talk to her?  I mean, after you’d bathed.”  Lou crinkled her nose, as though she could smell the stench of the young-Teaspoon even through the intervening years.

“Well Lou, it wasn’t that easy.  Wild Horse was one o’ the tribal elders and I was nothin’ but an driftin’ buffalo hunter.”

“Yeah, but you knew Cloud-Walker.  He was the war-chief; he must’ve had SOME pull,” Lou insisted. 

“That he did.  And it also helped that once I got m’self cleaned up, I was a mighty handsome lookin’ fella.”  Teaspoon puffed his chest out proudly, and then grimaced flamboyantly as Lou quickly hid a smile behind her hand.  Yup, he thought, this little talk is just the thing to cure what ails her. 

Taking up the story, he continued, “Spent the next few days talkin’ to Cloud-Walker about the buffalo migration I’d seen in the North, and the Cheyenne war-party gatherin’ at Little Sarda Pass.  Them Cheyenne likely weren’t interested in the Pawnee, since things were good between ‘em at the time, but it never hurts to know where your friends AND your enemies is at.  But all the time I was keepin’ my eye on Brown Sparrow.  Turns out she was watchin’ me too. And liking what she seen.”

Lou leaned forward in her chair, drawn into the tale in spite of her earlier misgivings.  “And?” she prompted. 

“Aaaaand…. we finally got together to talk.  We spent the evenin’ in the teepee of her brother Stalking Wolf, with him as a chaperone o’ course.  I remember the fire was dancin’ like a bride and groom at a weddin’, and the way it reflected off her eyes made them shine deeper and darker than 
the most bottomless sea.  She didn’t know much English and there was lots of things I wanted to say to her but just didn’t have the words for.  But we managed to communicate just fine.” 

Teaspoon leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes.  He could still see her as if it was yesterday.  She’d worn her hair down, and it was so long that she had nearly sat on it when she’d joined him at the fire.  He’d wanted to run his hands through that hair, and feel its silky softness against his rough-hewn skin.   When she smiled, it was like the whole world disappeared and it was only the two of them, cocooned in warmth.

“So what happened, Teaspoon?” 

Lou’s impatient voice dragged him from memory.  Opening his eyes, he grinned at the eager woman.  “We was pledged to each other two weeks later.”
 

Chapter Three

Teaspoon chafed his hands against the cool evening air before popping them beneath his armpits for warmth.  The cave in which he was huddled gave adequate protection from the wind, but his inability to start a fire for the past three days and nights meant that the chill was getting buried deep into the marrow of his bones.  Curled up under the shelter of one of his furs, he chewed on the last of his dried jerky.  “Damn Cheyenne!” he cursed mentally while keeping a wary eye on the cave mouth.  He didn’t know what had happened to bring ‘em this far south at the beginning of May, but he was damned sure he was stayin’ out of their way. 

Leaning back against the cave wall when the tribal drums from the valley below faded into the night, Teaspoon considered his position.  He was eatin’ the last of his food right now, and there weren’t no foragin’ this high up.  He’d already lost over a week’s time between backtracking to get the Cheyenne off his trail and then holing up in the cave.  Never mind the traps he’d placed that were now “behind enemy lines”, as it were.  And he still had to find and catch three ponies before he could return to Cloud-Walker’s village.

Three ponies!  When he’d parlayed for Brown Sparrow’s hand, he knew that her father Wild Horse would drive a hard bargain.  But three ponies!  Cloud-Walker had been astounded, but Teaspoon had merely shrugged and accepted the deal.  Brown Sparrow was worth a dozen ponies. Wondering 
if Wild Horse had set the price so high because he figured Teaspoon could never accomplish the task, the trapper found himself grinning.  Wild Horse clearly didn’t know Mrs. Hunter’s son Aloysius!

Teaspoon paused to put a match to a cigar, drawing the intoxicating fumes into his mouth with relish.  Nothin’ like a good stogey to light a fire in the belly and put bells on your toes, he thought, inhaling elaborately to get a good smoke going. 

Lou groaned in frustration.  “So what happened, Teaspoon?”  Was she going to have to drag this story out of him? 

“We got married,” the former station-master said between puffs, “and decided to—”

“But how’d you get away from the Cheyenne?”

Teaspoon fixed her with his most withering stare.  Apparently his most withering stare wasn’t very withering, as Lou merely smirked back.  Dang kids. “That ain’t what this story is about, young lady,” he scolded primly.  “Now, we got married—”

“You’ll tell me later though, right?”  Lou’s smirk had become a full-out grin, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. 

“Not if you keep interruptin’ me I won’t!”

Leaning back in her chair, Lou crossed her arms over her chest and pouted outrageously.  “Yes sir!” 

“Now… we got married…” he paused, but Lou only quirked an eyebrow saucily, “and decided to move to town.  Pine Bluff was a little mining’ town back then, and there were plenty of settlers headin’ to the area.  I figured on gettin’ a decent job in town, and we was close enough to the tribal lands of Brown Sparrow’s people that we’d be able to see ‘em on occasion, if we was careful.”

Wiping down the bar with a grime-splattered cloth, Teaspoon resisted the urge to pull out his pocketwatch again.  He knew he’d already checked it three times in the past ten minutes, but the danged thing didn’t seem to be working!  It had never taken this long for ten hours to go by before!

Pouring drinks for alcoholics, gunslingers and layabouts certainly wasn’t what he’d imagined for his future when he’d moved with Brown Sparrow to town.  He tried to tell himself that the position was only temporary. He tried to envision a brighter path.  But it was difficult.  Damn difficult.  Five o’clock in the afternoon couldn’t come soon enough.

Teaspoon rushed back to the tiny house he had rented in the crowded mining district as soon as the clock struck five.  Most of their neighbours amongst the shoddily-constructed buildings were rough-hewn pit-workers; bachelors who spent their days breaking rock and their evenings breaking heads in the saloon.  But the house was all he could afford.   He cursed the circumstances that kept him trapped behind a bar for most of the day while his wife languished in near squalor, afraid to venture far from home alone.  Again he tried to remind himself that they were saving for a better future. 

Brown Sparrow was bent over the small washtub when he entered the cabin.  Even in these dingy surroundings, her hair glistened like a delicate dew-washed flower, and her skin shone with the glow of a thousand suns.  Teaspoon fell in love all over again whenever he saw her.  His warm greeting died on his lip when he got close enough to see the water in the washtub. 

It was tinged pink. 

He tried to keep his voice steady.  “What happened, Brown Sparrow?”

Her hands shook slightly as she dunked her blouse under the water, scrubbing lightly at the stain.  She shrugged.

Grabbing her by the shoulders he spun her around, unmindful of the icy water that sloshed onto the floor and their clothing.  When he spoke, he didn’t expect his voice to shake.  “What happened?  Is it blood?”

Brown Sparrow’s eyes widened in surprise as she backed away, clutching the sopping garment to her chest.  “No!  No, my husband.  It is tomato.  I… I dropped it on myself.”

Teaspoon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as they flicked to the blouse she held so protectively.  “On your back?” 

Caught in the lie, Brown Sparrow threw the blouse to the ground.  Her eyes flashed as she rounded on her husband. 

“I went to the mercantile!  We needed flour, and sugar, and I foolishly believed that I could get these things myself.  Look around, my husband.  Do you see flour and sugar?  There is none, and that is because I dropped my purchases on the ground when someone pelted me with tomato!”  She backed away another step as Teaspoon tried to approach.  “I hate this place!  I hate these people, and I hate this clothing, and I hate everything here!”

“Everything, Sparrow?”

Her gaze softened upon him.  “When you are with me, my husband, it seems that it is all worth while.  But you are not often with me.”

Fighting guilt and shame, Teaspoon drew his wife into his arms.  “That’s all goin’ to change. Once we have enough money saved—” 

“We will find a place where we are both accepted and loved,” Brown Sparrow finished sadly.  “Yes, I know the story.  But it IS a story.  There is no such place.  And I do not want my child fearing the very place he should call home.”

Teaspoon’s hand went unconsciously to Brown Sparrow’s stomach, already able to feel the life growing within her.  “Give me some more time, Sparrow,” he whispered into her hair.  “That’s all I ask.  By the time our child is a year old we should have enough saved for our land.  We can have the farm we want and the open space we need.  I just need more time.  I promise you, if things get any worse we’ll go back to your people.  At least for a little while.”

“I will hold you to that promise, my husband.”

Lou’s voice was hushed and full of awe.  “A baby… You never said you—”

“That night somebody threw a rock through the window when we was sleepin’,” Teaspoon interrupted gruffly.  “Started yellin’ about how they was goin’ to kill all the ‘injuns’ and anybody who was associatin’ with ‘em.  I went to the Marshal the next day.  He laughed and asked me what I expected, considerin’ I was ‘shacked up’ with one of ‘em.  I wanted to stay and fight, prove to ‘em that they couldn’t force us to leave.  Me and Brown Sparrow argued like we never had before.

“We went back to the Pawnee three days later.” 
 

Chapter Four

“You know I don’t like it, Brown Sparrow!”

Teaspoon fought not altogether successfully to keep the frustration out of his voice as he ran a hand through his long brown hair. Though it was a bright and sunny summer day, his wife had kindled a small fire at the center of their teepee.  The pungent aroma of sage mingled with the sweet scent of other unidentifiable spices filled the confined space, as Brown Sparrow prepared the ritual swaddling garments for the child she was expecting. Brown Sparrow herself kept her attention on the basket she was weaving, her long ebony hair hiding her expression from his view.

Teaspoon sat back on his haunches and stared into the flickering dance of the fire.  He’d never expected their return to the Pawnee village to be as prolonged as it turned out to be.  But the winter had been ruthless.  Mother Earth had extended her icy fingers far into the traditional lands of Cloud-Walker’s tribe.  Attention was focused on simply surviving in a world blanketed by snow and buffeted daily by bitter gale-force winds.  Nightly, Teaspoon had collapsed into Brown Sparrow’s waiting arms, filled with a new respect and appreciation for the Indian tribes who lived in these lands.  Planning for the future was impossible when one’s entire energy had to be used simply to get through the day.

Spring should have been better, but the uncaring winter had decimated the tribe of both its people and its provisions.     It had taken months to re-supply the tribe of essentials; staving off the starvation of those that had survived the earth’s frozen blasts had been where everyone’s concentration lay.

But now it was summer. People were happy, bellies were full, and hands and minds were idle.  Teaspoon thought he’d relish the time to think and plan.  Instead he found himself realizing that he and Brown Sparrow had been with the village for many months.  The birth of his child was almost upon them.  And he was no closer to providing a decent home for his family than he had been a year ago.

Sighing, he pulled his attention away from the waltz of the flames and focused on his wife. “Brown Sparrow, are you listenin’ to a word I’m sayin’?”

Her eyes flicked towards him dismissively before she returned her gaze to her work.  Her long slender fingers moved gracefully as she said, “I will listen when you have something sensible to say, my husband.”

“Sensible to—“ Teaspoon sputtered indignantly.  “I’m TELLIN’ you that I don’t want you out there riskin’ your life—“

Brown Sparrow snorted, the sound incongruous with the appearance of the very pretty, very pregnant woman.

“—or the life of our child,” Teaspoon continued relentlessly.

Eyes flashing, Brown Sparrow’s hand went instinctively to her rounded stomach.  “I gather berries with the other women of the village!  I search out herbs for the ceremonial rites of the elders, that my people may be blessed and fruitful!  I would never risk the life of my unborn child!”

Moving to sit beside her, Teaspoon moved the half-finished basket to the mound of furs piled next to her before taking her hands in his.  When she refused to meet his eyes, he lifted one hand to smooth a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I only want you to be safe, Sparrow.”

“I would never hurt my child!”

“I ain’t sayin… Sparrow, I’m leavin’ with Cloud-Walker’s huntin’ party tomorrow, and I ain’t goin’ to feel comfortable knowin’ that anything could happen to you when I’m gone.”

“Nothing will happen from gathering herbs, my husband.”

Teaspoon grinned ruefully.  “My head knows that. But my heart… oh Sparrow, my heart’s another matter entirely.  It’s tellin’ me that I need to be here to protect you ev’ry moment of ev’ry day, and it starts thumpin’ a little faster just knowin’ that I ain’t able to watch out for you.”  He quickly placed a finger over her lips to stem her protests.  “All I’m askin’ is that you don’t go food gatherin’ while I’m gone.  Stick close to the village so’s I can stop my little heart from crashin’ around with worry.  What do you think, Sparrow?”

Brown Sparrow pressed the palm of his hand with a gentle kiss before leaning into his embrace.  “I think that the spirits of my people have seen fit to bond me to a very strange and peculiar man,” she replied softly.  “But I will do as you ask.”
 
 

Two weeks later, a bone-weary Teaspoon pushed his way to the head of the returning hunting party.  The need for rest pulled at his body like an errant mule, but eagerness to hold his wife in his arms supplanted any tiredness he felt.  Teaspoon couldn’t help thinking that life as a trapper had been MUCH easier than life as a hunter.  The Pawnee disdained the use of traps, believing that not only must every creature have the opportunity to fight for freedom, but also that each beast deserved to die with dignity.  After spending months learning the ways of the hunt from the patient Cloud-Walker and his new brother-in-law Stalking Wolf, Teaspoon had come to respect the ways of the Pawnee.  Never again would he set a trap, perhaps to let an animal suffer hours of needless torment.  That didn’t stop him from bemoaning the relative ease of his former life.

The hunt had been successful, but at great cost. The Cheyenne had continued their excursions into the traditional lands of the Pawnee, and the clash that Teaspoon had been expecting for months had finally occurred.  Teaspoon glanced behind him at the horses being led by two somber members of the tribe, and winced in anticipation of the mourning wail he would hear when they arrived in the camp proper.  Dancing Girl had lost two fine sons, and knowing that they had died with honour would do little to ease her grief.  The rituals to send Crescent Moon and Fire-in-his-Eyes to the spirit plain would be heart-rending indeed.

Impatiently, Teaspoon forced aside thoughts of death and welcomed thoughts of life.  He’d been gone longer than expected, and the birth of his first child was due any day.  It might even have happened while he was away!  Dismounting as soon as they reached the roped-off corral, he handed the reins of his feisty horse to the waiting boy and stormed through the village to reach his teepee.  He pushed the hide flap of his home open excitedly, anxious to see Brown Sparrow’s smiling face. 

She wasn’t there.

Perplexed, Teaspoon spun in a slow circle in the tiny space, eyes searching the chamber as though he would find his wife hiding under a log of wood or beneath a cooking pot.  He finally stepped back outside into the sunshine, scanning the faces of the village women anxiously.  A tug at his deerskin tunic sent his glance downward.

“She gone,” Little Fawn announced in her broken English.  The little girl’s pigtails bobbed as she mimed a person spooning broth to her mouth.

“Eat?”  Teaspoon whirled towards the center of the village, his eyes darting to the women gathered around the communal cooking pot.   Most were busy either chatting amongst themselves or welcoming home husbands, fathers, or sons.  At the far side of the camp, he saw the distraught mother of Crescent Moon drop to her knees next to the prone body of her youngest son.  The village seemed filled with women, but his Brown Sparrow was not one of them. 

He looked again to the child at his side, who was shaking her head emphatically.

“Not eat?” Teaspoon questioned.

Little Fawn’s pigtails bounced again as she shook her head.  Deliberately, she laced her fingers together to form a circle with her arms.  Teaspoon’s heartbeat raced like a wild stallion as he interpreted the young girl’s action to indicate Brown Sparrow’s full stomach.  When the child followed the gesture with the motion of eating, however, the image crystallized in his mind.  The circle represented a basket.

Brown Sparrow was picking berries.

Without a word, Teaspoon turned on his heed and returned to the teepee.  The closing flap blocked out the brilliant rays of sunshine that illuminated the rest of the village, leaving him wrapped in a cloak of darkness.

Teaspoon drew deeply on his cigar, only to realize that it had gone out long ago.  He stared blankly at the whitened tip before dropping the remains into the nearby spittoon.  The stogey had been a gift from Amanda for his last birthday, and he knew she had paid a pretty penny for it.  But relivin’ memories like these… somehow, he no longer had the stomach for it.  For the memories… or the cigars.

He glanced at the anxious face of the young woman seated across from him.  Lou’s face was white as she leaned forward in her chair.

“By the time Brown Sparrow got back,” he recited, “I’d worked myself into a frenzy of worry an’ fear an’ hurt.  Didn’t matter that I knew I was worryin’ over nothin’.  I only knew that Brown Sparrow and the child she was carryin’ were MY responsibility.  MINE.  I had to take care of ‘em, and the fear that I wasn’t doin’ the proper job of that was making my gut twist and turn like I had a belly full of rattlers.

“We fought.  I tell ya that Brown Sparrow had a tongue that’d peel paint from the walls when she had a mind to use it.  Both of us jabbered on to the other, and neither of us heard a thing.  In the end I figured she didn’t need me no more.  So I left.”

Lou blinked rapidly.  This was clearly not the resolution she’d been expecting.  Her mouth worked for a moment before she was able to get the words out.

“Left?  But… Teaspoon…”

“I went back three days later.”

The sun had just risen, bathing the land in red-gold radiance, as Teaspoon made his way through the village.  Most of the tribe was already up and well into the start of their day.  If he’d been more alert, he might have noticed the gazes that went from him, then flicked to the tent of Wild Horse. But he was like a horse fixated on a distant oasis after days lost in the desert.  He had to get to his own teepee.  He had to get to his wife.  He had to hold her in his arms.  He had to explain about the fear of failure – as a husband, as a provider, as a father – that engulfed him. 

Maybe then she’d understand.  Maybe then she’d forgive him.

He stopped outside the tent, running a hand over the grizzly stubble that covered his chin, before attempting to slick back his unruly mop of hair.  His nose wrinkled involuntarily.  He smelled worse than he did the first time he saw Brown Sparrow, and he didn’t think that was even possible.  Three days spent proppin’ up a bar and wallowing in self-pity tended to do that to a man, he reflected soberly.  He brushed at the worst of the stains on his tunic before pulling the tent flap aside. 

He’d make it up to her.  He had to.

The teepee was empty.  Again.

Teaspoon stood just inside the entrance, immediately dampening the fear and anxiety that had clutched at his chest at the sight of the empty chamber.  His hands clenched at his side as he forced himself to take deep and even breaths, eyes closed to promote inner serenity.  Once he found her… well, once he found her he was goin’ to do all the things he’d already promised.  But THEN he was goin’ to find Cloud-Walker and spend some time with his friend in the sweat-lodge.  Purification of the soul was just what the doctor ordered.

The sound of hide brushing hide sent his eyes flying open and his body spinning towards the front of the teepee.  In his mind’s eye he could already see her, his Brown Sparrow… her tongue would fly and her eyes would flash, but if the spirits were willing, she would forgive him. 

Cloud-Walker’s form filled the small opening, his face somber but welcoming.  One look at his friend’s face, and Teaspoon knew.  Words were unnecessary as Cloud-Walker enveloped the white man in his arms, and held him through the storm of tears.
 

Chapter Five

Lou sat on the very edge of her chair, eyes wide and tear-filled.  Her right hand rested protectively on her stomach while the left gripped the straps of her handbag in a cast-iron grip.  Taking in her stricken appearance, Teaspoon came to the belated conclusion that this particular tale might not be the right one to tell to someone in Lou’s delicate condition.  He shrugged mentally, knowing that if anyone knew the risks of frontier life, it was Lou. 

“The baby started comin’ the day after I left,” Teaspoon said softly.  “There was problems, and she lost a lot of blood.  The shaman did everything he could, but I lost ‘em both.”

“Oh Teaspoon…”  Lou’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I never listened to her.  There’d been a rock-slide when the huntin’ party was gone.  Six dead, includin’ Little Fawn’s mama and sister.  She was takin’ care of that little girl while tryin’ to do what I’d asked of her.  It was impossible.  But I never listened.  And then it was too late.”  Teaspoon’s voice cracked with emotion.  “I never told her how sorry I was.”

Lou leaned forward to take the older man’s hands in hers.  “She knew, Teaspoon,” Lou whispered fervently.  “She knew.”

Looking into the determined eyes of his former rider, Teaspoon felt his heart soar with love and pride.  “I reckon she did, Lou.”

The sound of the door crashing into the wall broke the shared moment.  Teaspoon and Lou looked up simultaneously at the anxious newcomer.

“There you are Lou!  I been lookin’ all over for you!”

“Jimmy!”  Lou had leapt from the chair and flung herself into her husband’s arms before Teaspoon had time to clear his throat.  Burying her face in his chest, she burrowed her hands into his long hair and clung to him frantically.  Surprised, Jimmy’s arms came up to encircle her small waist even as he glanced to Teaspoon inquisitively.

Abruptly, Lou pulled back to gaze at Jimmy intently.  “We need to talk, Jimmy.  We need to really talk.  You been drivin’ me insane!”

“Lou—”

“I know you probably don’t mean it Jimmy, but you’re makin’ me feel like I can’t do nothin’ right.  You of all people ain’t never made me feel like that.”

“Lou—”

The grin that had started on Teaspoon’s face when Lou had thrown herself into Jimmy’s embrace got wider and wider with each of Jimmy’s attempts to interrupt the firebrand he had married.  When the ex-gunslinger cocked an eyebrow for help, Teaspoon merely stepped behind the desk to give the couple some semblance of privacy.

“I want this baby, Jimmy,” Lou announced firmly.  “I ain’t gonna do nothin’ that’d hurt it.  But you’re makin’ me feel like – well, like you want me to be somethin’ I’m not.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Lou!”  Jimmy’s voice bristled at the thought.

“If you wanted some kind of dainty female who’d sit at home doin’ embroidery—”

“I never wanted that,” Jimmy put in brusquely.  “I… I always wanted somebody I could share with. Somebody I could share my life with.  Somebody I could share everythin’ with.”

“Then why’ve you been acting like—”

Jimmy mumbled, “You don’t understand what it’s like.”

“Then MAKE me understand!”  Taking his hands, she forced him to look into her eyes.  “Help me understand why you’re acting this way, ‘cause it ain’t like you, Jimmy.  And it’s tearin’ me apart.  You’re smotherin’ me, and—”

“I never meant… You don’t know what it’s like to be me!”  Pulling his hands from her grasp, Jimmy stalked to the window and faced the street.  Outside on the boardwalk, the people of Rock Creek went about their business as usual.  Normal people.  People from happy families.  People who had Sunday dinners with the grandfolks and story hour with the kids.  People completely unlike James Butler Hickok. 

“I never thought I’d have a wife.  I never thought I’d have any kids,” he said, so softly that Lou had to strain to hear his voice.  “Hell, I never thought I’d make it to 20.  I got no idea what I’m doin’ here, Lou, and I’m just tryin’ to make sure it turns out all right.”

Joining him at the window, Lou placed a gentle hand on his arm.  “You’re scared,” she said simply.

“No I ain’t!”

Lou hid the smile that wanted to form.  “It’s all right to be scared, Jimmy.  I’m scared too.  I’ve never had a baby before, you know.”

Drawn in by her soothing voice, Jimmy turned to face the woman he’d married.  She regarded him with patient and trusting eyes, her faith in him as unwavering as always.  When had he first known that he loved her?  The first time he saw her in a dress, lookin’ as pretty as a desert flower?  The first time he held and comforted her after her first love affair gone wrong?  After their first waltz at the spring dance back in Sweetwater, a lifetime ago?

He couldn’t remember.  It seemed like he’d always loved her, and needed her, and wanted her so bad his heart was fit to burst. 

“I got no idea what I’m doin’,” he practically whispered.

Lou ran a hand softly along his cheek.  “Jimmy… neither do I.”

“No.”  Throwing his head back, Jimmy drew in a deep breath, desperate to make her understand.  “No Lou, it’s different.  I’m different.  I never had nothin’ in my life.  My own father cared more about some stupid ‘cause’ than he did his own son!  My mama was so busy with my sisters that she never paid me much of a mind one way or the other.  Then there was the Judge…”  Jimmy let the thought trail off, the image of Brad’s prone body a counterpoint to this discussion that he didn’t need.  No point in dredging up the past.  The past was done, over. 

“I knew what kind o’ life I was gonna have, Lou.  I was gonna be the fastest gun.  Everybody was going to know the name of James Hickok.  I didn’t figure on meetin’ a man that’d change everything I thought about myself.   I didn’t figure on gettin’ a bunch of brothers when I was almost grown myself.  And I didn’t figure on fallin’ in love.”  He took another deep breath.  “I can take care of myself, Lou.  And I never had to worry about you… I never had to do nothin’ but love you… ‘cause you can take care of yourself too.  You’re the strongest, prettiest, feistiest woman I’ve ever known.  But I… the baby…”

“The baby’s goin’ to be fine, Jimmy.”

“The baby’s going to have Wild Bill Hickok as a daddy!”  The name saddled on the young man by JD Marcus dripped from Jimmy’s lips with a sneer.

“No.”  The word came out harsher than she intended.  Lou softened her voice.  “No.  This baby’s gonna have James Butler Hickok as a daddy.  A strong, caring, gentle man.  A fighter.”  Retaking his cool hands, Lou warmed them with her own.  Her lips curved in a tentative smile.  “You gotta remember Jimmy, my past ain’t exactly filled with moonlight an’ roses.” 

Heartened by Jimmy’s sheepish answering grin, Lou tucked her hand around her husband’s arm and pulled gently towards the door.  “Let’s go home, Jimmy.  We got lots of talking… and listenin’… to do.”  Depositing Jimmy on the boardwalk, she rushed back inside – her  handbag dangling gracefully on her arm and her skirt an impediment no longer – to kiss Teaspoon softly on the cheek, before darting back to the man who owned her heart. 

Teaspoon walked to the window to watch as the buckboard pulled out onto the street.  Jimmy’s arm was draped casually over Lou’s shoulders, while Lou nestled comfortably into the curve of his arm.  Teaspoon nodded.  His kids were going to be just fine. 

Buck was due in any minute to take over for the day, but in the meantime… he DID have a little nap planned until Lou’s abrupt arrival had changed everything.  Maybe he could still catch fourty winks.  Tipping the chair back against the wall, Teaspoon propped his feet on the desk and settled his hat over his face.  Sleep came easily these days, he mused as he felt the familiar heaviness settle over him like a blanket.  Might be time to turn the reins of the town over to Hickok soon.  Maybe after that baby was born.

For now, he would rest when he could. 

His eyes closed.  He slept.  He dreamt of Brown Sparrow.  And in slumber, he smiled.