“And right after Nick finished bragging that he was never thrown, he got on his horse and it reared up on it’s hind legs and tossed him off!” Cody laughed loudly, spraying bits of food across the table.

“Cody!” Jimmy threw down his fork and wiped his face. “I’ve had about enough of you today!” He hurled the napkin across the table at the clueless Cody and stomped out of the bunkhouse.

“What’s eating him?” Cody innocently asked.

The others present at the table- Rachael, Teaspoon, Noah, and Lou- silently shook their heads, some of them doing a bad job of disguising their laughter.

Continuing, the rider said, “This sure is a good roast, Rachael.”

“I didn’t cook it,” she replied, smiling.

“Really?” Noah asked, “Then who did?”

Rachael turned to face Lou. “Lou did.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cody guffawed. “Then how come this don’t taste like shoe leather?” He gnawed on a piece inquisitively.

“I can cook, you know!” Lou angrily threw down her own fork and stomped out of the bunkhouse.

“What is it with everyone today?” Cody said.

“You didn’t have to ruin it for her, Cody,” Teaspoon spoke for the first time during dinner. He had been eating like he was in a trance.

“She tried so hard to make it just right,” Rachael said. “I expect you to apologize to both Louise and Jimmy when they come back in.”

Cody began to say something, but decided against it.

A few minutes later, Buck burst in the room, followed by Jimmy and Lou.

“We were wondering when you would get back.” Teaspoon said.

Buck sat down and loaded his plate with food. The two other riders seated themselves silently and proceeded to finish their dinner.

“I ran into some trouble outside of Black Creek and- this sure is a good roast.” Buck interrupted himself.

“I cooked it,” Lou said, pointedly looking at Cody, who was too busy guzzling down his water to notice.

“It’s very good. You should cook for us more often.”

Lou smiled gratefully at him. “At least someone appreciates it.”

“Now tell us about your run,” Jimmy requested. Buck swallowed, and began. “I was on my way to Black Creek, when this guy started chasing after me and shooting at me. He was a good shot, too.” He pointed at a bloody patch on his ear where the bullet had brushed it. “I was so busy firing back at him that I didn’t notice that I rode right into One Eyed Jack’s Hollow.”

“A dead end,” nodded Teaspoon.

“Right. I thought I was a goner; I ran out of bullets. The guy made me give him the pouch, and he searched through the mail until he came up with some letter about a gold shipment or something. He was about to shoot me, when a fellow came up and shot him.” Buck paused and looked around the table.

By now everyone had stopped eating and was listening intently to Buck’s story. “Well, tell us who shot him!” Cody demanded. He shrugged, “I don’t know! He never gave me his name, and he left before I could ask.”

“What did he look like?” Jimmy asked.

“He looked kind of young, like our age. He wore a long black coat, and a black hat that hid most of his face. Oh, and I think he was a bounty hunter.” Buck took his time to thoroughly chew some more meat, taking pleasure in putting his friends in Suspense.

Finally, he continued, “I guess he was hunting for that guy, Pete was his name, and after I helped him take the body to the sheriff, he gave me half of the bounty.”

“How much?” Jimmy and Cody said in unison.

Buck wiped his mouth and grinned. “One hundred dollars.”

Everyone ooohed and awed, but before they could ask, he stated, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet.”

Cody offered, “Well, I have this sure-fire investment that you could-“

“No, thanks, Cody. I want to spend this money on something real, not a mine full of fool’s gold or a couple dozen bottles of snake water.”

Laughter rippled through the comfortable bunkhouse that the riders called home. “Good idea,” Rachael said.

They all continued to eat in silence for a while longer, then Teaspoon finally spoke. “Our new rider should be tomorrow.”

“It’s about time!” Voiced Cody, upholding his reputation as always being the first to say something. “I had to double up yesterday!”

“Quit your whining,” Jimmy admonished him.

“You can’t blame him,” Noah told Jimmy. “It’s probably the first time he’s ever had to do that.”

“Who is it?” Lou asked. She was the one the new rider was replacing.

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see. Fact is, I don’t even know who it is. My friend is bringing him.”

“Is that what that letter was about you had me take to that fellow in Denver?” asked Jimmy.

“Joe Smith.” Teaspoon answered. “He owed me a favor, so I had him pick out someone for me.”

“Seems like you have a lot of people owing you favors.”

“Well Jimmy, the way I see it is if you know a lot of people who ‘owe you one,’ you’re fit for life.”

“That so?” Jimmy said, pondering Teaspoon’s latest advice.

Friendly silence enveloped the bunkhouse and it’s occupants as they finished their meal without further interruption from the boisterous Cody, and they soon turned in to rest themselves for upcoming day.

Teaspoon paced back and forth in the office of the Rock Creek jail. Today it seemed to be too small to Teaspoon. He wanted to go out and do something, but the only problem was that no one was causing trouble. And he was impatient to see whom his long-time friend had recruited for the vacant position. Joe knew some colorful characters. He walked past his faithful deputy, Barnet, who was twirling around in the desk chair and whistling a tune he made up as he went along. Teaspoon watched him as he poured another cup of coffee, and half of the dark brown liquid ended up on the floor.

“Would you stop that, Barnet. You’re making me dizzy.”

“Sure, Teaspoon.” Barnet answered. He sat up and started rustling papers on the desk and banging open and shut drawer.

Teaspoon went to the open door and called to a passing stray dog. The floppy white dog happily bounced in and began cleaning up the mess that Teaspoon had made. As it started licking the floor, the marshal tried to lay down in one of the empty cells to get some rest, but his deputy was still making noise. He had crawled under the desk and almost tipped it over.

“Barnet, what on earth are you doing now?”

He looked up from under the dark oak desk and said with a straight face, “I lost my lucky rock.”

“Barnet!” Teaspoon cried in exasperation. “Git outside and look for another one.”

“But, Teaspoon. A person can only have one lucky rock, and this one-.”

“I said get out! I don’t care what you do, just get out and let me have some peace and quiet.”

“Yes sir.”

“And take that dog with you!” The mutt was now staggering about the jail, having lapped up every drop of the extra strong coffee.

When they left, Teaspoon leaned back against the cell wall and tilted his hat over his eyes. I might as well get some rest, he thought.

But he had not closed his eyes for one minute when someone came rushing in to the building.

“Marshal!” He frantically yelled. “Marshal Teaspoon Hunter!”

Teaspoon reluctantly dragged himself of the bed and said, “Yeah, what do you want?”

“I’m looking for Teaspoon Hunter.”

“That’s me. What do you want?”

The man, who had obviously rode a couple days to get to Rock Creek, looked Teaspoon up and down critically. “You’re not Teaspoon Hunter. Teaspoon Hunter is the roughest, toughest, most handsome lawman in the territory. Now get out of my way, gramps, and show me where he is.”

“GRAMPS!!!” Teaspoon was outraged. “Son, you better leave before I do something I regret.” He wiggled his fingers near his gun.

“Well, now,” he said, backing off. “You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man, would you, gramps?”

“I have half a mind to if you don’t stop calling me gramps.”

“How ‘bout an unarmed old friend?”

Teaspoon paused. “Joe, is that you?”

Joe laughed and hugged his old friend. “Ha ha! Got ya, Teaspoon!”

“Joe, you scoundrel. How’ve you been?”

He shrugged, dusting himself off, “Not too bad, not too bad. I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse too.”

“You’ve changed since I last saw you, but I don’t know how.” Teaspoon looked at him critically.

“Yeah, I’ve given up keeping the peace in this crime-ridden world. I run a hotel now in Denver. It’s a nice, quiet business. I don’t even carry a gun anymore.”

“Is that so?.”

“Yep,” he answered. “Well, of course I got a rifle for the trip here, but other than that, no. I was getting to old for that kind of living.”

Teaspoon grunted, looking at the floor. Then he snapped his head up, remembering, “Don’t you have someone I need to meet?”

“Of course. He’s perfect. He’ll make a great rider.” Joe started walking outside.

The marshal followed him, saying, “Do you really think I’m handsome?”

Joe laughed. “Depends on what your definition of handsome is!”

The two men walked outside to where two horses stood tied to a post. Seated on one of the horses, an alert gray appaloosa, was a young, impatient looking young man. He was wearing a long black coat and had on a black hat that hid his face. The sun shined on his long brown hair and turned it dark red.

Joe cleared his throat and motioned to him. The new rider dismounted and walked over to them.

“Teaspoon, let me introduce me to the best rider, tracker, and shooter I know, Sky Hawks.”

“Welcome to Rock Creek, son.” Teaspoon said.

Joe cleared his throat again and nudged Sky with his elbow.

Sky sighed and recited, “I’m pleased to meet you, Teaspoon. May I call you Teaspoon?”

“Yes. Let’s go inside and talk.” To Joe he said, “The kid’s got nice manners. I wonder who he learned it from, Joe. May I call you Joe?”

Teaspoon’s friend grinned. The three went in the jail and sat down. Joe again nudged Sky, who groaned, took off his hat, and said, “This is a nice town here.”

“Uh, thanks.” Teaspoon said. “By the way, son, this isn’t New York City, so you don’t have to be so polite.” He winked at Joe.

“Now, do you know the territory around here?”

“I used to live about a mile outside of Sweetwater and went exploren a bit.”

“Good.” Teaspoon paused to take a good look at Sky. He was not very tall; Teaspoon estimated he was about the same height as Lou. He was also very slight of build, and Teaspoon hoped that he could actually do all the things that Joe was talking about. Joe had a big mouth and liked to stretch things a bit. Sky’s hair was long and straight, falling a couple inches past his shoulders. He wore a pair of colt six-shooters, and had the set jaw of someone always ready for some action. I’ll have to have a talk with him, Teaspoon thought as Joe bragged about how good a rider Sky will make. I don’t want him getting himself into trouble.

“How long you planning on being here?” Teaspoon asked.

“I don’t want to stay longer than a few months.” Sky was like a poker player- his face was completely blank, revealing nothing. But his eyes! They were different colors. One was so gray it reminded Teaspoon of a cold, dreary day in December. The other was a deep, dark blue and seemed to twinkle and laugh.

“I don’t like to stay in one place very long.” Sky explained.

“Sky,” Started Joe. “I told you they might need you longer.”

He sighed. “Alright. However long you need me.”

“Fine. We can work that out later. Fact is, we need you right now. We’re getting pretty busy, but that will most likely change, with the telegraph coming and all.” Teaspoon said. “So, let me tell you the company’s rules.”

Teaspoon explained the Pony Express’ rules, and then said what he expected of Sky. Then he had the new rider take the oath, and the young man became the newest rider for the Pony Express.

“That’s it?” asked Sky.

“Yep. Welcome to the Pony Express, son.” Teaspoon lightly punched him on the shoulder, and pondered the funny feeling he got every time he took a good look at Sky. There was something familiar about him.

“So,” said Joe, standing up. “It’s settled, then. You sure it won’t matter that Sky’s a girl?” Realizing his mistake, Joe covered his mouth with his hand and said, “Oops.”

It took Sky a moment to register what had just come out of Joe’s big mouth. Then she gave Joe a mean look and ran out of the jail. If looks could kill, he would have been dead and buried.

Joe sat back down, wondering what he should say next. But Teaspoon just shook his head and muttered, “Not another one.”

On to Chapter three

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