“Lou, I really don’t know how you manage it every day.”  Rachel got out of the wagon carefully, stretching to relieve the pressure in her constricted limbs.  Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching, including several that she didn’t even know she possessed.  The station mistress grimaced.  “I must be gettin’ old.” 

Lou grinned.  “Aw, you just ain’t used to it Rachel.  ‘Sides, ridin’ is a heck of a lot easier on the body then sittin’ in the buckboard.”

Rachel sighed, then set about rubbing her arms and legs briskly.  The appendages felt like slabs of beef carcass instead of the supple limbs she remembered herself having!

They’d been on the road to Rock Creek for four days, and it already felt like four weeks.  Travelling with two wagons of supplies had turned a thirty-six-hour trip into a nightmare.  Rachel winced to herself, hoping that anyone who noticed would think she just had a spasm in her leg.  She couldn’t help but feel it was HER fault that they were so loaded down.  But for all they knew, this transfer to Rock Creek was permanent.  And it just hadn’t felt right to leave so many of Emma’s things behind.  Her precious sideboard, for example – who knew if the new stationmaster in Sweetwater would appreciate it?  And they had no idea what Jimmy and Kid would consider “suitable accommodations” for the new Rock Creek station.  Rachel had a horrible image of arriving to a home that consisted of a rickety table and one spindly chair.  She clucked to herself.  She really shouldn’t pay such attention to the stories the boys and Lou told of the other way stations they visited.  She was certain every one of them was an embarrassment to the Express and a personal affront to herself – and a breeding ground for germs and other contagion to boot!

“I still feel awful guilty about you riding with the wagons,” she said to Lou, indicating the riders who were going about setting up camp.  “You really should have ridden on ahead.”

“Rachel, we already been over this,” Teaspoon put in, “and the boys just felt more comfortable ridin’ along with us, that’s all.”

“Wanted to protect us, you mean.”

Teaspoon grinned.  “Wellllll… that too, I reckon.  They figure an ol’ prairie dog like me and a purty woman like you ain’t no match for the vermin that ya can find on the trail.”  He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially in Rachel’s ear.  “I figure we should just keep on lettin’ ‘em think it.  Then when we got to show just how well we can take care of ourselves, they’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

Rachel laughingly agreed, accepting the grizzled Marshal’s hand to help her to her feet.    Refreshed and feeling slightly less guilty, she set about directing the others in getting the camp set up to her satisfaction.  She had a meal to prepare, and not a lot of light left in which to do it.   It didn’t help that Cody appeared to have decided that the stew pot looked better as a hat than as a food container, while Ike was doubled over in silent laughter instead of gathering firewood; Lou had wandered down to the stream without taking the water jug; and Buck?  Hands on her hips, Rachel surveyed the landscape.  Ah yes.  Buck was standing in the clearing a short distance away, staring into space.  She shook her head.  With helpers like these, she’d be lucky if she got anything done at all!

Teaspoon noticed the look and patted Rachel’s shoulder reassuringly.  “You work on these two.  I’ll fetch Buck and Lou.”  Waiting for her nod, he walked briskly to his Kiowa rider, smiling in appreciation at Rachel’s bellowed orders at his back.  Another time and place, she’d have made an excellent Texas Ranger, he mused.  His drill sergeant would have been proud.

He cleared his throat, ready to do his own version of “About Face! March!” on his negligent rider, when the look on Buck’s face strangled the words before they could be verbalized.  Buck was green.  His fingers clutched his medicine bag so tightly that they were bone-white.  Harsh words forgotten, Teaspoon placed a hand on Buck’s arm gently. 

“Everythin’ all right, son?”

The Kiowa jumped as though a coyote had crossed his path, one hand remaining on the medicine pouch while the other whipped out his gun with lightning speed.  The rider might be ill, Teaspoon realized, but there was nothing wrong with his reflexes.  Or his aim.  The gun was pointed with deadly accuracy at Teaspoon’s chest.  The stationmaster raised a hand slowly.  What was Buck playin’ at? 

“Buck?”

For a brief moment there was nothing in his rider’s eyes.  No recognition. No familiarity.  Then the moment was gone, so quickly that Teaspoon figured he must have imagined it.  Buck let out a shaking sigh and re-holstered his weapon. 

“Sorry Teaspoon.  I didn’t hear you come up.”

The rider immediately went back to scrutinizing the countryside, so he didn’t notice Teaspoon eyebrow cock in surprise at the statement.   BUCK didn’t hear him coming?  Buck could hear footsteps in the middle of a thunderstorm.  His ability was getting to be a legend among the riders.  Why, that boy could practically hear the grass growing!

Stepping into Buck’s line of vision, Teaspoon again put a gentle hand on his arm.  “What’s wrong, son?”

“Nothin’.  It’s just…”

“Just…?” Teaspoon urged.

The rider suddenly seemed to realize that he was clutching his medicine bag with startling desperation.  He looked at it for a moment, then let it drop to his chest.  What was wrong with him?  He had decided to head through the clearing to the copse of trees on the other side of the camp.  He wanted to do a quick search for wild mushrooms for the stew.  But then he’d… he’d gotten distracted somehow.   And there was certainly no simple way to describe the feelings he was having. 

But Teaspoon was waiting for an explanation.  “It just doesn’t feel right here,” he tried.  He knew the explanation was lame, but how could he express what he couldn’t quite understand himself?  His eyes went reluctantly back to the trees over Teaspoon’s shoulder.

The stationmaster turned to look at the spot where his rider’s eyes had strayed.  Near the river’s edge, three or four trees had grown together to form one twisted trunk, the combined canopy of leaves offering a dappling shelter from the harsh sun.  The land in that spot formed a natural arch, so the water there lapped lazily at the bank instead of rushing swiftly with the current.  It was a private refuge in an otherwise severe and unforgiving setting.  Teaspoon could feel the private poet within stirring at the very sight of it. 

He turned back to his rider, intending to announce how beautiful the spot was, but again the words died on his lips.  Buck’s eyes reflected nothing but fear.  “You want we should find another place to camp?” he instead asked softly.

Buck started, his gaze drawn away from the trees at the riverbank by the question.  He shifted uncomfortably.  He DID want to leave.  Every fibre of his being was crying out to leave.  But he wasn’t about to get in the way of everyone else’s plans just because he felt a little uneasy. 

He managed a half-hearted smile.  “No.  It’s nothin’.  Just too many days on the trail and without a comfortable bunk,” he assured Teaspoon.  “I’ll go and gather those mushrooms now, if that’s all right.”

“Supper’ll be in about twenty minutes,” Teaspoon advised as the Kiowa walked off.  The stationmaster knew he should be headin’ off after Lou before Rachel had his hide, but he found his eyes drawn back to the riverbank.  The scenery must remind Buck of something from his past, he mused.  Something horrible, by the looks of him.  Teaspoon decided that once they were settled in Rock Creek, he’d find the opportunity to talk to his Kiowa rider about it.  Things shouldn’t be bottled up inside, and Buck was the worst of the lot for lettin’ all his past hurts fester.  Jimmy won the prize for lettin’ the current hurts fester.  Teaspoon shook his head.  He’d never figured on bein’ a Pa to seven rowdy young’uns.  Good thing he did such a good job at it. 

“He okay?”  a voice from behind him asked.

Teaspoon grinned.  Nice of Lou to save him the trouble of going after her.  He quickly masked the grin with a scowl appropriate to the situation before turning to the female rider.  “He’s fine.  Unlike somebody else around here who SHOULD be filling the water jug and instead is just lollygatherin’.”  As Lou gawked at him in surprise, he drew himself up to his most imposing.  “Hop to it!” he ordered imperiously. 

Lou grinned, then covered her mouth with her hand before clicking her heels together attentively.  “Sir-Yes-Sir!” she barked, then dropped a quick salute before executing a perfect about face and heading back to camp at a brisk and elaborate march. 

Teaspoon chuckled.  He still had it. 

Dinner was a light-hearted affair filled with laughter; it didn’t take long for Buck’s previous unease to fade, and then disappear altogether.  As Ike helped himself to a third helping of stew and a generous sprinkling of Buck’s Mystery Mushrooms, as Cody liked to call them, Buck found himself wondering what he’d been so frazzled about anyway.  He was in a beautiful place surrounded by people he loved.  He had a heritage he was proud of and a job at which he excelled.  Life didn’t get much better than this. 

The relaxing atmosphere soon came to an end. Several of the boys handled clean-up duty before everyone pulled out bedrolls and settled down to some well-needed sleep.  They had to be on the way at sun-up if they wanted to reach Rock Creek by mid-morning.   Buck lay on his back, one hand tucked behind his head, and found himself grinning up at the flawless moon in anticipation.  A new town meant a new start.  A new town meant new women, and he certainly wasn’t adverse to that idea.  And a new town meant… no Tompkins!  There were certainly some people he’d miss from Sweetwater, but William Tompkins was definitely not one of them.  “One more sleep,” his mother used to say whenever he was anxious for the new day to begin.  “One more sleep and you will help Red Bear to break the new mustang.”  “One more sleep, Running Buck, and you will learn to shape an arrowhead that will fly as swift as an eagle.”

Buck rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.  “One more sleep,” he murmured. 

“NooooOOOOOooooo!!!”

The desolate cry broke through the peaceful night air like a train wreck on a trackless prairie.  Cody was the first to react, jumping to his feet and scrambling for his rifle. Around him the rest of the riders also clamored from their bedrolls, trying to dust off the cobwebs of sleep and identify this unknown menace. 

“No… please… NOOO!”

The riders spun as one, then rushed in unison to Buck’s bedroll.  The Kiowa rider thrashed in a hellish nightmare, his face a twisted grimace of pain and confusion.  His back arched in agony as he desperately tried to fight off the deranged stalker of his dreams. 

Rachel pushed her way through the riders to kneel at Buck’s side.  She reached out a hand to his temple and even in sleep, the rider recoiled from her touch. 

“My god, he’s burning up,” Rachel announced worriedly.  “Buck!  Buck, can you hear me?”

“Aaayyyaaahh!”  His body slick with sweat, Buck flailed helplessly, adrift in an ocean of suffering.  Rachel sat back on her heels and began issuing orders.  “Ike, fetch as much water as you can carry.  Lou, get the towels from the wagons.  We need to get his fever down.”  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, each rider was scurrying to do her bidding.  “Cody, Teaspoon, I’ll need you to strip him down.”

“Strip him down?”

“Cody, we need to reduce his fever.  He’s on fire. Now take off his clothes!”

Teaspoon and Cody set to work, and soon Buck was clad only in his long johns.  The rider was oblivious to the manipulations of his friends.  He alternated between screams of pain and mutterings in his native tongue.   Kneeling at his side, Rachel murmured soothing words while trying to maintain a calm façade.  This was hardly her first bout with illness – working at the way station, there were more than enough scrimps and scrapes to last a lifetime – but she’d never felt anyone so HOT before.  She didn’t have to be a doctor to know that the human body couldn’t withstand that kind of abuse for very long.  And if she couldn’t get the fever down… she didn’t have any idea what to do. 

“Here’s the first bucket,” Lou said breathlessly, as Ike set the pitcher down at Rachel’s side.  “Now what do we do, Rachel?” she asked anxiously, eyes drifting to Buck helplessly. 

Taking a towel from the pile Lou had provided, Rachel ripped it into efficient strips to demonstrate.  “Do that to five or six of them.  They’ll get warm fast.   Ike, fetch another bucket – this one won’t last long.  Cody, take off his top too!”  As the rider scrambled to obey the snapped command, Rachel put a hand to her head shakily.  She couldn’t lose control.  She couldn’t.  She only hoped this was enough.  If she didn’t see any change in an hour, the trousers would have to come off too.  She’s sacrifice Lou’s virtue and Buck’s pride if it would save his life.

Satisfied, Rachel dipped a strip of cloth into the water and leaned forward to wipe at Buck’s forehead.  As soon as her hand touched his face, the rider’s eyes rocketed open.  His upper body flew forward, his hands digging into Rachel’s arms like a vulture’s claws.  Unseeing, unfeeling, he shook Rachel like a rag doll.   “Buck!  Running Buck!!!”  Spittle ran down his chin as he screamed his name. 

Cody and Ike dived at their friend.  It took their combined force to drag Buck off the terrified woman.  Tears streamed down Ike’s face as Buck scratched and thrashed at him, sputtering obscenities.  Rachel, meanwhile, stumbled backward, landing in an undignified heap and splashing water everywhere. 

“Rachel, are you—”

“What do we do?”

“Buck!!  Buck, snap out of it!!!”

Dazed, Rachel pulled herself to her feet, shaking her head to clear it.  Her ears were still ringing, and there appeared to be two moons in the sky tonight, but she was all right.  She couldn’t let things get out of control.  Well, any MORE out of control. 

Pushing forward, she pulled Lou away from Buck and manhandled her towards the makeshift camp.  “Get the other bucket and fill it, NOW!” she ordered imperiously.  Lou nodded dumbly and darted away. 

She turned back to her charge.  “Cody, Ike, you take his arms.   Teaspoon—”

“I’ll handle the legs,” Teaspoon interrupted.  “Don’t worry, Rachel.”

Rachel turned surprised eyes to the stationmaster.  Was she that obvious?  Her eyes thanked him for his concern while aloud she said, “Ain’t nothing to worry about.  Buck doesn’t know what he’s doing right now.  It’s the fever talking.  Do you hear me, Ike?  It’s the fever talking!  He don’t know who he is right now, and he don’t know who you are.”

Ike let go of Buck’s arm with one hand to quickly swipe away his tears, then nodded in what he hoped was confidence.  Whatever it was that had made Buck so sick, they’d wash it out of him.  They’d break this fever if it killed them.  Ike gulped.  He didn’t quite like the turn of phrase his mind had taken. 

Resolutely, Rachel again leaned forward and coated Buck’s body with cool fresh stream water.  Then again.  And again.  The rider thrashed and screamed, frenziedly trying to escape from his tormentors.  The muscles in Ike and Cody’s arms stood out in stark relief as they held desperately onto their charge. 

Again.  And again.  And again.  Rachel lost count of how many times Lou sped to the stream; of how many strips of towel she used and re-used; of how many curses Buck spat in the faces of his friends. 

And then it ended.  As suddenly as it began, the rider’s struggles suddenly ceased.  His muscles slowly relaxed as his body sank back onto the hard earth.  Cody and Ike looked at Rachel with wide eyes.  Before she could answer their unspoken question, Teaspoon spoke.  “Hold on to ‘im, boys.  We don’t know that this is the last bout of this sickness.”

But it was.  After ten minutes, there’d been nary a twitch.  Rachel sat back, allowing the relief to flood her voice.  “That’s it.  You can let up, boys. Fever’s broke.”

What happens now, Rachel?  Ike asked hesitantly. 

“Now,” Rachel smiled reassuringly, “he’ll sleep.  There might be some more outbursts, and some more hallucinations, but for now he’s okay.  I think he’s seen the worst of it.”

“Somebody should sit up with him,” Lou spoke for the first time in over an hour. 

Teaspoon put an arm around Lou comfortingly.  Through her thin shirt, he could feel her slim shoulders shaking.  She was scared.  Hell, they’d ALL been scared.  Nothing like a bad case o’ sickness to put you in touch with mortality – including your own.

“I’ll take the first watch,” the stationmaster announced.  “Cody, I’ll wake you in an hour.”

Cody nodded, but Lou shook her head.  “No.  I’ll take the first watch.”  She raised her hand to forestall the protests already forming on the lips of both Cody and Teaspoon.  “You had the difficult job, and you’re exhausted.  Besides, all three of ya are covered in sweat yourselves.  Now you git to bed.”  Kneeling at Buck’s side, she dipped a strip of towel into the bucket and rinsed his face tenderly.   “Ike, I’ll wake YOU in an hour and a HALF.”

Ike nodded thankfully.  It was only right that he and Lou take care of Buck through the night.  He owed his friend so much.  Owed him so much, in fact, that he really should sit up with him all night.  But he knew better than to even suggest such a thing to Lou.  He didn’t relish getting hit upside the head.  And a tongue lashing from the fiery rider would be even worse. 
 
 

Chapter Two

“So you really don’t remember any of it?”

Jimmy hefted one of the boxes – this one labeled KITCHEN in Rachel’s precise handwriting – from the wagon and set it onto the porch.  He and Kid had been sent out ahead to prepare the Rock Creek station. The weeks had stretched out interminably, though he certainly couldn’t say they were boring.  Being arrested for a murder you didn’t commit tended to keep things interesting.  Of course, once that was sorted out, Teaspoon was recalled to Sweetwater to help with the station transfer. And Cody had insisted on returning to their former town to ensure that his belongings were packed to his stringent satisfaction.  Kid was a good guy and all, Jimmy mused, but frankly he was getting pretty sick of beating the transplanted Southerner at checkers.  Jimmy felt no shame in admitting that he was more than happy to see the two overladen wagons roll into town.  With Noah’s return from his ride at the same time, their makeshift family was complete again. 

Buck shrugged.  “Nope.”

Pushing his way between them before Jimmy could respond, Cody said, “You shoulda seen him.  Rollin’ around and talkin’ gibberish, actin’ like a crazy man!  We thought he was a goner for sure.”

“You’ll be a goner if you don’t get that stuff shifted before supper,” Teaspoon warned as he passed the knot of boys on the porch.

Cody waited until Teaspoon was out of earshot before leaning forward.  “I ain’t kiddin’, Hickok.  Never seen nothing like that in my life.  It was… spooky.”

Rolling his eyes, Buck barked out a laugh.  “It was a fever, Cody.”

“Yeah.  Well.  It was a spooky fever.”

Shaking his head in exasperation at his friend, Buck picked up another box and started towards the kitchen of Rachel’s new home.  Cody had an imagination to rival Dickens!

Hands on her hips, Rachel surveyed the house with a critical eye.  Boxes were still piled haphazardly everywhere, but they’d made a good start.  At least the kitchen was completely unpacked, and she’d be able to cook a decent dinner for the first time in a week.  She grinned at the riders lounging in various stages of exhaustion around the ample room. 

“All right.  Boys, Lou, I’d like to thank you for a wonderful job.  Now it’s gonna take me at least a couple of hours to get supper cooked, so why don’t you go out and explore Rock Creek?  That is, unless you’re too tired.”

‘Exhaustion’ quickly turned to animation for the gathered riders as they practically stampeded for the door.  Rachel’s grin grew wider.  For the life of her, she couldn’t remember being quite that young!

“I think the first thing we should do is check in at the saloon for a nice refreshing beverage,” Noah suggested.

“Sarsaparilla’s all around?”  Jimmy grinned.

“After last night, I think we deserve somethin’ a little stronger than sarsaparilla,” Cody opined.

Lou laughed.  “You know the rules, Cody.”

“Well, will you look at that.”  Noah held up his hand, pointing down the street and interrupting the good-natured argument before it could go any further.  “Looks like we got to town just in time, fellas.”

All eyes turned to the announcement strung up at the far end of town.  “Rock Creek Charity Ball”, the banner’s bold red letters proclaimed.  “$1.00.  Proceeds to benefit Ladies Auxiliary.”

While Kid, Ike, Noah and Jimmy grinned like mischievous schoolboys, Cody’s eyes grew wide with alarm.  Pulling off his hat, he threw it to the ground.  “Oh NOOO!  I got a ride tomorrow!  Jimmy, you’ll switch with me, won’t ya?”

Jimmy crossed his arms and smiled. 

Cody never did like that smile.

“Noah?”  The black rider shook his head, barely able to contain his laughter.  Ike held up his hand, indicating that Cody was wasting his breath even to ask.

“Lou?  Awww, you’ll switch with me, won’t ya Lou?”

“Well Cody, I would… but I’ve got some alterations to make to my dress for the dance tomorrow night,” Lou teased. 

Groaning aloud, Cody turned to Kid desperately.   One look at Kid’s eyes told him that the Kid was a goner.  As soon as Lou had mentioned “dress”, Kid had gotten all goopy.  It was kinda nauseating, to be honest.  And just like Kid was a goner for Lou, now he, William F. Cody, was a goner for the dance. 

Cody kicked at the dirt, then swiped up his dropped hat.  It wasn’t fair!  He was new in town, and here was the perfect opportunity for all the women to get to know him.  Now he’d have to go visitin’ separately… it was gonna take him so much more time!  It just wasn’t fair!

Buck!  The Kiowa rider had dropped a little behind the group, checking out the layout of the town or somethin’.  Buck would switch with him!  Good ol’ Buck would be sure to do it.   He took off at a run, covering the distance between them in several long strides. 

“Buck!”  Grasping the Kiowa by the arm, he put on his most ingratiating smile.  Buck ol’ pal, his smile screamed.  Good buddy.  Bosom friend.   How can you turn me down?  “Buck, you don’t wanna go to that stupid dance anyway, right?”

When Buck didn’t turn or look his way, Cody found his smile stretching to its limit.  His face was gonna crack in two in a moment.  “Buck?”

Still nothing. 

“Awwww, come ON, Buck.  Just switch with me, will ya?  I’ll owe you two rides back, I swear to God.”

Buck dimly felt someone – Cody, he knew – pulling at his elbow.    It was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now. He pulled his arm away dreamily.  Because something was… out of place.  Something was…

“Different,” he murmured.

Cody screwed up his face in irritation.    “Different?  What the heck kind of answer is that?  Buck?” 

The Kiowa’s shoulders stiffened. That voice.  That noise.  He felt like he’d stumbled into a nest of rattlers.  It grated on his ears, making his head spin.  He had to stop that noise. 

Cody was gearing up to swing the rider around and force him to give a direct answer when Lou touched his arm hesitantly. 

“Cody…”

“WHAT?”

“Go join the boys at the saloon.”  She indicated the riders waiting further down the street, perplexed looks on all their faces.  When Cody looked about to protest, she pulled him by the arm and pointed.  “Go!”

Lou stood quietly, waiting until her fellow riders had mounted the stairs to the saloon before touching Buck lightly on the arm.   She almost pulled away in shock.  The muscles in his arms were thrumming like a trapped bird.  Moving slowly, she stepped in front of her friend, making sure that she maintained a gentle contact.  The cords in his neck rippled; his eyes were wide and unfocused. 

“Buck?  What’s wrong?”

Ahhh.  The rattlers were gone.  This one – this voice – was soft.  Gentle.  Soothing as a mountain spring.   Maybe he could trust this one.

“Different,” he managed to choke out. 

Lou waited patiently, but nothing more seemed forthcoming.  She squeezed Buck’s arm comfortingly.  “Buck?”

He turned then to look at her, and the fear coming from him was palpable.   It seemed to squeeze the air from her lungs, covering her in darkness.   “That building,” he said slowly.  “It wasn’t there before.”

Turning hesitantly, Lou regarded the building that Buck had indicated.   It was the town blacksmith’s.  Tools and half-finished projects were scattered about the side of the building, while a large man wearing a massive apron hunched over the forge, working diligently.  She could see nothing out of the ordinary. 

She turned back to Buck, who was watching her with frightened eyes.  “All right.” She began slowly, speaking to him as she would to Teresa.   “We ain’t never been here before, Buck.  I don’t underst—”

“It wasn’t there before!” Buck interrupted.

Lou was beginning to lose patience.  “Before what?”

“BEFORE!” Buck spat viciously.  “I know what I know!”

Lou jumped back as though slapped, dropping her hand from his arm.  The lost contact seemed to spark something in Buck.  He looked at her wonderingly for a long moment before stumbling back, covering his face with his hands. 

Uncertainly, Lou stepped forward and enveloped him in her arms.  Around them, town life went on.  People rode and walked and ran by, none stopping to investigate or interrupt the two “men” in the middle of the street.  “Buck?” she whispered into his hair.

The rider stepped back quickly, wiping at his eyes self-consciously.  “I’m all right, Lou.  I’m… I think I’ve still got some of that fever.  I…” He glanced at the blacksmith’s shop.

“Buck…”

“I’m sorry, Lou.  I’m… I’m just gonna be by myself for a while.”

He had turned and run back in the direction of the way station before she had time to open her mouth. 

The prayer circle was aligned perfectly.  The herbs were burning, and offerings to the spirits were numerous and personal.   But the peace Buck craved would not come.  The serenity he needed was a mountain he could not climb and a river he could not cross. 

In frustration he kicked at the rocks, disrupting the circle.   He was terrified, and there was no one he could confide in.   There was no one to trust.  Not Lou.  Not Teaspoon.   Not even Ike. 

He feared that he was going insane. 
 

Chapter Three

The bunkhouse was suffused with the kind of peace that only comes to those wrapped in tranquil slumber.   A light breeze drifted from the open window, gently ruffling the pages of one of Cody’s dime novels.  As if sensing that his precious volume was being tampered with, Cody frowned in his sleep and drew his mohair blanket more firmly around his shoulders.  The next gust of air found the rider snoring gently as he quickly regained the sleep he had lost.    The soothing draught caught the cooling embers of the fireplace next, sending them into a capering dance of merriment.   Rock Creek welcomed the riders to her bosom.

Then Buck Cross opened his eyes.

The rider drew in a sudden breath, his hands clutching anxiously at the worn blanket that inadequately covered him.  His eyes darted frantically around the unfamiliar room, its inhabitants blissfully unaware of his intense scrutiny.   The chamber was filled with their soft breathing, it’s combined volume sounding to his ears like a massive herd of buffalo careening across the open prairie.  Covering his ears with his hands, Buck wrinkled his nose.  The room stank of unwashed bodies, of leather, of gun oil.  Only the nervous retching of his stomach told him that he had recently eaten.  He didn’t remember it.   He bit his lip to suppress the roiling of his stomach.  The stench!  How could they stand the stench?

As he pulled himself from the cot, he realized that it wasn’t just them that was causing the hair on the back of his neck to rise.  The room also stank of fear.  HIS fear.  It rolled from him in blackening waves, swirling into the air like phantoms before swooping into the darkened corners of the chamber.  This fear had eyes, which would watch for an opening to take him.  This fear had teeth, and would await its moment to pounce.  It would drag him from safety and send him spiraling back. 

But, Buck decided, he wasn’t going back.  Not to them. 

He hastily looked around the room, trying to decide what he would need.  It was close to 2am, though he didn’t quite know how he knew that.  He mentally shrugged, realizing that the workings of his body’s internal clock weren’t imperative at this point.  He just had to leave.  He had to flee from this place before they found him.  Before they tried to stop him.

Sitting back down on the cot, he tried to ignore both the incessant noise from his fellow riders and the lunatic cackling from the terrors that even now hid in the cracks and crevasses of the bunkhouse.  He knew if he listened hard enough, he’d be able to make out words in the madhouse gibbering.  He didn’t want that.  Oh, how he didn’t want that. 

Agitatedly, he pulled his boots from under the bed and drew them on.  Boots were necessary. A vest hung haphazardly from the post at the end of the bed; he would put that on too.  There.  Don’t listen to the voices.  There ARE no voices.  He drew a hand through his long hair, unaware that his breath was now coming in ragged gasps.   Something else.  Something else.  His darting eyes lit on the gunbelt draped casually over a peg nailed to the wall.  Two Colts nestled in the holsters, their ivory handles winking at him in the dim moonlight.   Yes.  Buckling the gunbelt over his long johns, Buck surveyed the room.  He was ready. 

A noise from the fireplace sent him spinning in that direction, his hand hovering at the weapon.  But the creature had crept back into hiding.  Stomach twisting upon itself cannibalistically, Buck again drew his hands over his ears.  The noise was unbearable.  A high-pitched keening funeral dirge filled the room, slamming into his brain with the force of a tornado.  Stumbling from the bunkhouse, Buck was unaware that it was HE who cried out in such anguish.

Kid mumbled in his sleep, grimacing. 

Their day had been going so well.  A picnic in the old apple grove near the Cambridge place; then a walk to the stream.  Lou was holding his hand and smiling up at him with love and pride.  She was wearing the pink dress he liked so much, and her hair was a mass of upswept curls.  He couldn’t wait to get to work on the pins that held that billowy softness away from his questing hands.  She kissed him again and again, promising to always be pure and safe and by his side.  Then, out of the blue, for no reason at all… she hit him!

The complete and utter surprise of the slap sent him stumbling backwards a pace.  He turned to hold out a hand to her and… and… she was smiling!  A grin the size of Texas split her face; her eyes danced with untold gaiety.  “I love you Kid,” she murmured softly, before letting go with another roundhouse punch that would make Irish Johnny McClarnen proud!  The force of this one knocked him off his feet…

… and onto the floor of the bunkhouse.  Kid lay for a moment, too dazed by both the fall and the abrupt turn his pleasant dream had taken to pay much attention to the sleepy inquiries of his fellow riders.  As he shook his head to clear it, the sound of another SLAP reverberated through the tiny building.  Head swiveling in the direction of the noise, the source of the disturbance in his dream became apparent.  Frustratingly kicking at the blankets twined like snakes around his limbs, he stomped across the room. 

“Geesh Kid, sure you’re makin’ enough noise?  I think there’s some people on the other side o’ town that didn’t hear ya,” Cody groused as he buried his head in his pillow.

Kid didn’t bother to hide his annoyance.  “Who left the danged door open?”

“Never mind that,” Jimmy’s voice came from the other side of the room, all vestiges of sleep gone from his voice.  “Where are my guns?”

Before anyone could respond, a noise from the other side of the room drew their attention.  Ike was sitting up in bed.  The mute rider didn’t bother to sign.  He merely pointed at Buck’s cot.  Buck’s empty cot. 

“His boots are gone.”

“What if the fever’s got—”

“We need to find—”

Kid’s calm tones cut through the tumult of voices.  “We ain’t gonna find him standin’ around.  If that fever was as bad as you say, he could be anywhere by now.”  As the riders hastily threw on whatever clothing they could find, he continued, “Lou, you saddle the horses.  Ike, Jimmy—”

“Don’t think the horses are gonna be needed, Kid,” Cody announced from the doorway.  He pointed toward the street.  With wide eyes the riders followed his shaking finger before bolting from the room.

Their friend had wandered to the middle of the wide avenue.  His vest was buttoned cock-eyed across his chest; Jimmy’s gunbelt was buckled securely around his waist.  He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was still clad only in his long johns.  The clatter of argument and music from the nearby saloon filtered into the desolate street, but he was oblivious to that too.  Lou cradled her arms against her chest as a shiver played a tune on her spine.  Buck seemed oblivious to everything. 

The Kiowa’s head was cupped in his hands, a soft moaning issuing from his lips as he spun in an ever-decreasing circle.  This was wrong.  All of it was wrong.  The buildings – the people – even the ruts in the middle of this street.  All wrong!  If he could find Marshal Pearce then maybe he could make some sense of it.  He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes as he remembered.  Marshal Pearce was part of it.  Marshal Pearce was one of THEM.  He had no one to trust.  But he had to find a way. 

“Buck?  You okay, buddy?”

Buck’s head whipped up as the voice stabbed into his senses like a poisoned dagger.  It was them.  The foul-smelling people from the room.  They’d followed him, and now they’d try to take him to the evil ones.  The ones that fed on his terror.  The man who had spoken had eyes that sparkled like false jewels, trying to hide the wickedness within.   Buck was not fooled.

Cody took an involuntary step back after speaking, his outstretched hand dropping to his side.  The eyes that glittered from the face of his friend were feral.  Before he had joined the express there had been a day that he’d been forced to take cover from the afternoon heat in a cave north of Sweetwater.  He’d woken from an exhausted nap to find a rattler mere inches from his face.  He never thought he’d see that blank, appraising and malevolent gaze on the face of any human.  He was wrong. 

Snapping a confused look at his fellow riders, he shrugged and hoped the fear didn’t show in his countenance. 

Kid took a hesitant step forward.  “Buck, what’s—”

“You get away from me.”  The snarling sound was nothing like Buck’s normal baritone. 

“Buck, we just—”

The gun was whipped from its holster before any of them had time to react.  Kid stopped his forward trajectory abruptly, hands instinctively raising slightly to show that he was unarmed. 

“Buck, what the hell are you doin’?”

“Stop!”  The gun swiveled in Jimmy’s direction unerringly, even as Buck used his other hand to press at his temple.   Why wouldn’t they stop talking?  Each word drove another spike into his brain till he was sure that it would implode. 

Seeing that Kid was about to speak again, Lou put a hand gently on his arm before stepping forward herself.  The Southerner saw her intention but a harsh look from the female rider silenced his tongue.  He carefully positioned himself in a way that would leave him open to get her out of harm’s way if Buck decided to dislodge one of the bullets in Jimmy’s gun.  Even though that would never happen. This was Buck they were talking about, after all.  No matter how much of a fever he’d got, he wasn’t gonna SHOOT nobody.

“Buck…”

That voice. He remembered that one.  Soothing, like a desert spring.  He turned wary eyes in her direction.  She was slight, with short brown hair and gentle eyes.  He remembered her, yet she was nothing like he remembered.  He only knew that he wanted to trust her. 

But she was with the bad people. 

“I’m not goin’ with you,” he barked out, swiping at eyes that seemed to be leaking.  “I’ve got to get back, and you’re not gonna stop me.”

“Buck… you’re sick.  Do you remember bein’ sick?”

The Kiowa rider wiped again at his eyes.  Lou exchanged a quick glance with Kid, who stood tensely nearby.  She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her mind.  Maybe one of them should fetch Rachel?  The thought came and went like a wayward butterfly.  The person she really wanted right now was Emma.  Emma would know exactly what to say and do in this situation.  Irrationally, Lou felt a bubble of laughter building up inside her.  Oh yes, Emma would know what to do with a semi-clad rider sick with fever and holding a gun on them in the middle of an empty street.  Sure, she had tons of experience with THAT.  Lou bit her lip to keep the misplaced laughter below the surface. 

She took another calming breath.  “Why don’t you come with me and we can—”

“I AIN’T GOING WITH YOU!”  Spittle flying from his lips, Buck waved the weapon erratically.  “I’m goin’… going…”

“Where, Buck?”

His eyes glistened maliciously.  “You know.  You ALL know.  And you’re tryin’ to stop me, just like they did.  Well, you ain’t gonna stop me this time, you HEAR?”

“Buck, we only want to help you.”  Lou hoped that the tremor in her voice wasn’t noticeable to the Kiowa.

Buck hesitated.  She sounded so sincere.  Maybe she truly believed that she was doing the right thing.  Maybe she was being misled by the company she kept.  He wouldn’t fault her for any of this.  Her voice soothed the raging fury within, and he owed her something for that. 

He sensed them moving to surround him.  He had let his guard down by talking with the girl.  He straightened quickly, moving the barrel of the gun between them.  “Stop,” he said softly, and to his surprise, they did.  He searched the faces of those arranged in a semi-circle around him, finally settling on the bald one with the bulging eyes of a hyena.  Barrel of the gun now pointed at Baldie, he still directed his comments at The Girl. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.  I don’t want to hurt any of you.  But I will if you try to stop me.  Now you tell them to go away.  Tell them all to go away.”

Lou traded questioning looks with the other riders.  “Maybe you should go inside,” she suggested hesitantly. 

“Lou, we ain’t leavin’ you out here alone with him!” Kid protested loudly. 

Buck grabbed at his head, an unintelligible moan issuing from his lips.  The man’s voice, silent for so long while he spoke with The Girl, sent a renewed laceration of agony into his brain. 

“All right,” Jimmy shook his head in exasperation.  “I’ve had enough.”

“Get back,” Buck managed to choke out.

“No.”  A grim smile had overtaken Jimmy’s features.  “No Buck, I ain’t gonna ‘get back’.  What are you gonna do, huh?  Are you gonna shoot me?”  He spread his arms wide. 

“I don’t want to hurt anybody…”

“No, and you ain’t gonna,” Jimmy agreed. 

The barrel of the gun rose shakily in Jimmy’s direction.   “I will if I have to…”

“You ain’t gonna shoot nobody, Buck!”  The rider took a furious step in Buck’s direction.  “Now just gimme my damn guns!”

Buck pulled the trigger. 
 

Chapter Four

“Why won’t anybody listen to me?”  Lou banged her fist on the table in frustration. 

It was mid-afternoon. The riders and Teaspoon had gathered in the bunkhouse to talk. They couldn’t exactly discuss anything in Teaspoon’s new office, after all – Buck was still locked up there. 

“We are listenin’ to ya, Lou.”

“No, you ain’t!”  She spread her fingers wide, ticking off each one as she made her points.  “Buck’s been sick since we camped out two nights ago.  He keeps sayin’ that he wants to go back.”  She was cut off before she could get any further.

“Back where, Lou?  Sweetwater?  That campsite?  To the Kiowa?  Fact of the matter is, we don’t know what he’s been talking about.”  Jimmy shook his head.

“And we don’t even know if he’s… ya know.”

Steel edged Lou’s voice.  “No Cody, I don’t know.”

“Well Lou,” the rider answered hesitantly, “he ain’t exactly been actin’ real… sane.”

“Cody,” Lou gritted, “your intellect has been known to rival that of a garden tool, but not even you can believe that Buck has lost his mind.  This is BUCK we’re talkin’ about!”

“All I’m sayin’ is… HEY!” Cody began.

Teaspoon held up his hands to stop the onslaught of fresh opinion before Cody could come up with an appropriate rejoinder.  “All right, everybody.  ALL RIGHT, just everybody simmer down!”  The riders clammed up quickly, and Teaspoon doffed his hat to the room.  “Thank you.  Now we’re goin’ to find out what happened to Buck and we’re goin’ to fix it, but we’re also goin’ to do this logically.”

“Teaspoon—” 

“Logically, Lou.  Now you’re right that Buck got sick on the trail, and it might be that somethin’ out there set this fever on ‘im.  But we got no way of knowin’ what that something IS.  And Cody’s right too… this fever is affecting Buck’s brain.  You know yerself he don’t remember nothin’ of what he done last night.”

“That’s why we’ve got to—”

“So we got Noah on the way to Fort McMurtry with all the samples we could get from Buck and all the information to go with ‘em.  Those army doctors at the Fort are some o’ the best in the land.  I had the pleasure of servin’ with ol’ Doc Morgan myself back in my Texas Rangers days.   He’ll do everything he can to find out what’s makin’ Buck sick.”

“And what if he doesn’t find out?”  Ike asked the question that was on everyone’s minds.

Teaspoon sighed.  “Well son, then we just got to pray.”

“That’s not good enough, Teaspoon.  You know the fever started at the camp.  Maybe it was… the mushrooms!  Them wild mushrooms that he picked!”  Lou knew she was grasping at straws, but she was desperate.  Something deep inside was telling her that she was on the right track here, and yet everyone she loved was standing in her way.  The worst part was that she knew… she KNEW… that if it was another rider afflicted with this malady and BUCK was around this council table, he would side with her.  He appreciated the value of following your heart even when it didn’t make sense to your head. 

“I ate them mushrooms too, Lou,” Teaspoon pointed out gently. 

Ike reluctantly met the female rider’s gaze.  “Me too.”

“Well, Buck ate MORE of ‘em!”  Lou threw up her hands and stalked around the table like a caged tiger.  She flinched when Teaspoon put a hand on her shoulder softly.

“I know you’re worried, Lou.  We all are.”

“Then why can’t we just try to take him back there?  Find the mushrooms; bring some of them in for testing?  Buck needs to go back.”

“You know we can’t risk that.”

“For the love of God, why not?  Buck wouldn’t hurt anybody!”

Silently, Jimmy held up his bandaged arm.  Lou blanched.  Yes, Buck had already hurt somebody.  Swiping at her eyes, she managed to blurt out, “I’m sorry, Jimmy,” before she ran from the room. 

Kid found her an hour later in the barn, furiously brushing Lightning.  It was Lou’s version of therapy, except it usually didn’t change anything for her.  He watched her for a long moment before approaching cautiously. 

“You okay?” 

“I’m anything but okay, thank you for asking,” Lou answered tartly.

Kid ducked his head, thinking feverishly.  He only wanted to help.  He and Lou might not be a couple anymore, but he still cared for her deeply.  The last thing he wanted to do was get her all riled up again. 

“You know,” he tried again, smiling gently, “that dance is still on for tonight.  Thought maybe you’d be gettin’ yourself all gussied up.  Might be just the tonic after—”

Lou dropped her curry brush onto the plank next to the stall and faced Kid with fire in her eyes.  Her body was stiff with barely suppressed fury.   “Ya know Kid, the last place I wanna be is at that dance.  You go on and get yourself all spit and polished.  Go find a pretty lady that you can impress with those big blue eyes.   Pretend that one of your best friends in the world isn’t rottin’ away in a jail cell with somethin’ eatin’ at his brain and tearin’ him apart.  ‘Cause I can’t.  I can’t!” 

Despite her best intentions, her voice hitched and the tears she’d fought all day were spilling forth.  Instinctively Kid drew her into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly.  “It’s gonna be all right, Lou.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Teaspoon says those army doctors—”

Pulling back so she could look into his eyes, Lou said earnestly, “I don’t care about them army doctors, Kid.  I got a feeling way down deep inside, and I know I’m right about this.  I can’t explain it, or figure out what it means.  I just know that I got to trust what I’m feeling.  I’m asking you to trust it too.”

Tracks from her tears still stained her cheeks, and her eyes were wide, hopeful and pleading for understanding.  Kid had never more wanted to diminish her worries with the right words and the right gestures.  He wanted to say, ‘Yes, I believe’.  But…

“I’m sorry, Lou.  Let’s just… let’s just wait to hear what the doctors have to say.”

Releasing herself from his embrace, Lou backed away slowly.  She had been wrong.  The worst part wasn’t knowing that Buck would side with her if someone else were in his place. The worst part was knowing that Kid wouldn’t side with her. 

Stiff-backed, she strode angrily from the barn. She ignored the calls from Kid to talk it out.  She didn’t look back.