What's In A Name?

Emily Metcalfe looked around at her little "family" and smiled. Everyone had chosen to sit on the porch that night. It was unusually warm for October and the house just felt too close. Lou and the Kid sat close together on the swing. Kid had his arm across his wife's shoulders, and Lou was resting her head against his chest, her eyes closed. They looked almost too close to be comfortable Emily thought, eying them from her position on the railing. Not the most lady-like position to be seated in, but it was so darn comfortable sitting there, leaning against the post, nursing her eight-month-old son Ike.

Her gaze shifted to the other couple sitting on the step; Buck Cross and Lydia Mitchell. Buck was also leaning against a post, his arms around Lydia, who was seated between his legs, leaning back against his chest, her head nestled against his neck and chin, her hands on top of his. Emily was glad that Buck and Lydia had gotten together. Finally. Things were a little tense when they were figuring out feelings and how fast to take things, not to mention the tension between Lydia and herself when Lydia still had feelings for Ike McSwain, dead these past seventeen months.

Thinking of Ike made Emily look down at her son. Ike's son. The spitting image of his father, save for the soft reddish-blond hair growing on his head. She wondered if her son would he like his father as he grow up. Then she realised that she didn't really know what Ike had been like as a child. And there was only one person present who did know...

"Hey, Buck," Emily spoke up suddenly. "What was Ike like?"

"Come again?" he asked, startled at her non sequitur.

"I mean as a child. What was Ike like as a child?" Em reiterated.

Buck thought for a minute. "Well, Ike didn't change much in the time that I knew him. But we were about thirteen when we met, so I can't say that I really knew him as a child. Sorry."

"Where's this comin' from Emily?" Lou asked drowsily, not opening her eyes."

"Thought you were asleep there, Lou," her husband teased.

"Not quite."

"I was just thinkin' about Ike and our son. Wonderin' who Ike'll grow up like. Then I realised that as I don't know what Ike was like as a child..."

"You don't know whether Ike will be like his father." Lydia finished softly. Everyone fell silent for a moment, and Lydia wondered whether she had put her foot in it by finishing Emily's thought. Buck shifted his arm slightly to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she was relieved to see Emily turn her head and smile at her.

"You know what?" Lydia finally spoke again to ease the tension. "There's only one thing I've really wondered about their days at the mission."

"What's that, Lydia?" Kid asked.

"I don't think I want to know," Buck groaned, hiding his face in Lydia's neck, making her squirm.

"How Buck got his surname."

"WHAT?!?!?!?!?!" Everyone exclaimed. This was not what they were expecting.

"Think about it. Most Indians don't have surnames. If they do, they choose them to fit in with 'white society'." Lydia raised her hands and made quotation marks with her fingers to show what she meant. "No offence, Buck."

"I know what you mean."

"And I've always wanted to know how Buck chose the name 'Cross'. I always figured there was an interesting story behind it."

"You're right," Buck replied. "Only I didn't choose the name, it was chosen for me."

"And..." Lydia prompted.

"And what? You want to hear the story?"

"Well, yeah," Lydia drawled with the faint Southern accent she picked up in Baltimore.

"Come on, Buck," Jeremiah McCloud popped his ginger head out the sitting room window. "This sounds interesting."

"Go back to bed, Jeremiah," Lou called without opening her eyes.

"Aw, Louise, it's too hot to sleep."

Lou sighed. "Alright, but you go to bed straight after Buck finishes. No excuses, you hear?"

Jeremiah grinned and disappeared, reappearing a moment later on the porch, sitting on the little stool by the door.

Buck shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not gonna get outta this, am I?"

Lydia's grin matched Jeremiah's, as she craned her neck to look up at him. "Nope. Come on, it won't be that bad."

"Wanna bet?" Buck cocked his eyebrow, then sighed. "Alright, but I'm warnin' you, it's kinda long. And it may not be as interestin' as you think."

Onto the story

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