By Cheryl
Chapter XII
Buck had set out to free his friend Two Foxes the next morning. What resulted was adventure and teamwork that reminded him of his days for the Pony Express. It felt like old times again. He missed those days when they had been happy, when they had been a family and a team. But for awhile they were again, and it felt good. He wished once again that he could go back to those happy times and was saddened to know that he couldn't.
Buck had seen Teaspoon's amazement at how Buck handled himself in the whole thing. Teaspoon knew what hate and anger existed in Buck's soul and was amazed to see that Buck could control it so well. Buck was a little amazed himself.
After a full day's ride back from Ft. Laramie they rode up to Rachel Dunne's house. Buck realized as he saw the old express way station that at least for now he considered this home. He was glad to be back. He had missed Isaac. It was the thought of Isaac that had allowed him to control that anger and hatred that boiled in his soul. Buck never wanted to make his son sad, and the thought of sadness on that small face and tears gracing those pale blue eyes made him know, better than he had ever known before, where the line lay between releasing his anger and causing Isaac grief.
Rachel and Isaac came out to the porch to greet the travelers. They dismounted attaching their horse's reins to the post in front of Rachel's house. Both Rachel and Isaac were anxious to hear of their adventures. Buck turned from Rolling Thunder to see Isaac running toward him, a smile on his face. Buck bent down to pick up his son. Oh, how he had missed those small hugs and pale eyes. For once he let some of his guard down in front of the others as he tightly hugged Isaac back.
"Well come on in, supper's about on," Rachel said, knowing that the riders were hungry from their travels. She wanted to hear their stories of what had happened.
Buck could tell that Isaac too was excited about their adventures without him. He wanted to know the whole story. "Buck?" he asked. Jimmy and Cody thought it odd that Isaac would use Buck's name to address him. "Tell me what happened?"
Buck sat in silence. In private he would tell Isaac everything. Bearing only minor details that he wasn't old enough for yet. But here in the house with everyone's eyes on him, he couldn't tell Isaac the story. It was one thing to open up to Isaac. Isaac knew him and he knew Isaac. But everyone else, although they were friends and had once known him well, no longer really knew him. He didn't really want them to.
Cody seeing Buck's silence turned to Isaac and began to tell the story in Buck's place. Isaac gave Cody a stern look then rather firmly said, "No, Uncle Cody. It's not your story to tell."
Buck smiled inwardly. He had to admire that insistent little voice. Isaac wanted to hear the story for him or from no one. Then Buck's mood saddened again. Didn't Isaac know what he was asking for? To tell that story in that room would expose himself to the others. If wasn't a matter of he didn't want to. It was a matter of he couldn't.
Those pale blue eyes stared at him waiting patiently for Buck to begin his story. He couldn't let Isaac down. That was more impossible than opening up in front of the others. Slowly and softly he began to tell the story of their adventures. He enjoyed to see those blue eyes see through him as he told the story.
He saw the look of the others, disbelieving that Buck would tell the story. He saw the smile on Rachel's face as she looked at the love between father and son. She understood how much love Buck had for Isaac, how much he would do for his son. Teaspoon looked on with approval and hope that someday Buck's soul would be repaired and he would realize that goodness still existed in him. Cody saw that no matter what kind of man Buck had become he loved his son, no man that loved his children could be totally bad. Jimmy knew that opening up most have taken Buck a great deal of courage. He knew once you started to shut yourself off from the world it was hard to open back up again.
It had been a good adventure. Two Foxes did not kill the soldier, Buck knew this. He had to figure out who did. He knew that it was the one sure way to get Two Foxes off. The army wouldn't believe Two Foxes version of the truth or Buck's insistence that he was telling the truth. In the army's eyes they were both Indians, savages. Their word meant nothing, just as the Army's word meant nothing to the Indians.
And so Buck had set out to find the rightful murderer. And he had. It had been like a great mystery. Buck enjoyed finding the solution that correctly fit. That was one of the many aspects of the law that he enjoyed. Buck had talked to the other soldiers and found out enough information to prove to himself, Teaspoon, Jimmy and even Cody, that Two Foxes was innocent. But it wasn't enough for Custer or the army.
The dead soldier had been killed by a member of the Pawnee tribe. Buck was disgusted that a man like Custer, who had made it his life duty to hunt down the Indians one by one, had no idea of the differences in the tribes. The Pawnee and Kiowa had very different manners of dress and fighting. He had made sure to voice his disgust, partially because he thought it wrong for a man in Custer's position to be so uninformed and partially just to frighten Custer more. Custer gave Buck a wide breath since that day on the streets of Rock Creek. And Buck enjoyed testing the limits of what all he could say to the colonel without seeing anger flash back toward him. It was mean and vindictive, and Buck carried little about that. He felt like doing much more to Custer than bad words and the colonel should be glad that his love for Isaac prevented that.
Buck had been unable to find the man that did murder the soldier. The Pawnee weren't about to give him up themselves, and Buck believed he had no right to ask them to do any such thing. The truth was he didn't really want to find the Indian. Yes he was a murderer, and yes he would do it again without a thought, but Buck had once been that some Indian. He knew where the hatred and anger came from, and he did not blame the Pawnee brave from acting on those feelings.
Buck had finally collected enough information to convince the Army's court, with Teaspoon's help, that the murderer could not have been Kiowa and thus they had the wrong man. Teaspoon had kept insisting and insisting until the court officer finally gave in, partly because Teaspoon was right and partly just to shut Teaspoon up. Teaspoon could be very long winded most of the time, and the character flaw had only gotten worse with age. Whatever the reason Buck had done it, Two Foxes was free to leave. Buck had saved him.
Teaspoon, Cody, Jimmy, and Buck had ridden with Two Foxes half of the way back to the Kiowa camp. No one had asked to go further than that. Buck was glad. He knew that no white man was welcome in the Kiowa camp anymore. When they finally got to that point where Two Foxes had to part from the group they had said their good byes.
"Thank you Running Buck, I owe you my life," Two Foxes had said. Buck knew how much pride it took to say such a thing, even if Two Foxes was not a big warrior.
"It was worth saving," Buck replied.
Two Foxes had turned his horse to leave then turned back. "You know you are welcome back whenever you wish to come?" Two Foxes asked. He knew that Buck had his white son to think of, and knew the reasons he had told Red Bear he could not fight.
"I know," Buck answered. He knew he was always welcome in the Kiowa world. That was enough to make his heart and soul happy. He could never rejoin them though, just as he could never rejoin the white world.
"Do you have any news to bring your brother?" Two Foxes asked.
"Tell him I will visit within the next moon," Buck answered.
Two Foxes nodded his head. He almost turned his horse to go and then silently asked, "Do you have any news from your White Guardian?"
Teaspoon, Jimmy and Cody all got confused looks on their faces. They had no idea what the brave meant. Buck hoped that they would not ask him of it later. He could not give them on answer, even if the idea might not have seemed all that odd to them.
Buck wondered how much he should tell Two Foxes. Ike had visited Buck not long again, while he was at the fort. And his words had not been promising. Bad things were in store for the Kiowa, for all the Indian tribes of the plains. How could Buck tell this to the Kiowa? All they had left was their pride. How could he take that away too?
"His words are not good," Buck replied hoping that Two Foxes would not ask for more. And he didn't. Two Foxes saw Buck's reluctance to talk about the subject and correctly read into it that the words of Running Buck's White Guardian were bad. How bad Two Foxes did not know. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.
Chapter XIII
Buck had memorized that dream with Ike. He knew all the said and unsaid words. It had happened while they were at the fort fighting to free Two Foxes. As soon as Buck saw Ike's face he knew that the news was bad. Neither of them had ever been big on words and knew each other well enough to communicate without any words at all. Like on that day Ike died. Neither of them had said a word of Ike's death. Both knew that he would die and both knew that the other knew the same thing. And neither of them saw a reason to comment on it.
At the appearance of Ike's sad face, Buck had started asking questions, "What's wrong?"
Ike said nothing, but in his own silent way lightly shrugged his shoulders. Buck knew that wasn't a good sign. "Is it Isaac?" Buck asked
Ike shook his head.
"Teaspoon? Rachel?" Buck added
Once again Ike shook his head. Then what was wrong? If it wasn't Isaac, Teaspoon or Rachel, who else could it be? Buck was stumped. Then a thought went racing through his head like a flash of lighting. Ike hadn't come to warn him of problems with his family or friends. He'd come to warn him of bigger problems that were just as dear to his heart. Ike was here to warn him of problems with the Kiowa.
"It's the Indians, isn't it?" Buck asked, answering his own question.
Ike slowly nodded his head as he let out a soft sigh. Ike's blue eyes met Buck's brown ones. "How bad is it?" Buck asked.
Ike still said nothing. His blue eyes bore a hole into Buck. He cocked his head slightly to the side. Buck realized that Ike didn't really want to tell Buck what the problem was. He didn't really want to hurt Buck like that. He knew how much the Indians and the Kiowa meant to him.
But Ike didn't really need to tell Buck how bad things were. How much worse they would get. Buck already knew from that look on Ike's face. The death of the red man was inevitable. There was nothing Buck or anyone else could do to stop it. The flood of whites from the east would never stop. The army would never stop their fighting. The government could continue to break treaties. And the Indians would continue to fight back and make the whole situation just that much worse. It was an endless cycle that had began the first time a white man ventured out past the Mississippi, the first time they stepped foot on the foreign soil on the other side of the Atlantic. At this point there was nothing left to be done. Nothing could stop it all, no matter how much Buck wanted it stopped.
"Is it really that bad?" Buck asked knowing that Ike already knew all the thoughts that were running through his head.
Ike slowly nodded his head and answered, "Yes." He then looked up at Buck, those blue eyes telling Buck how sorry he was. Buck knew there was nothing Ike could do, there was nothing he could do, there was nothing anyone could do.
It was this dream that ran through Buck's mind and haunted his soul. His people were doomed to destruction. And there was nothing he could do. Buck felt powerless and weak. He wanted to fight to the death with the rest of his Kiowa brothers, with Red Bear. But he knew that even that was no longer in his power.
He continued to help Teaspoon as deputy. The old ex-Texas Ranger liked his company and Buck liked Teaspoon's company. One lazy, rainy day both of them were sitting in the Marshal's office. The day, like most in the small town of Rock Creek, was uneventful. They usually pasted the time in silence with their own thoughts on those types of days. But on this day Teaspoon thought that the two of them needed a talk.
"You know there is something you can do about the Kiowa, without fighting." Teaspoon stated.
So the old stationmaster had known exactly were his thoughts had been since their return from Ft. Laramie. Buck didn't answer Teaspoon. He had already run through his head every possible way to help the Indians and he could think of nothing that would work. They couldn't be saved.
"The government needs good men like you looking out for the Indians." Teaspoon said in response to Buck's silence.
"Nothing can save them," Buck plainly stated.
Teaspoon gave Buck a long hard look, "Son, me and you need to have a talk," he finally said in a fatherly tone that Buck hadn't heard in years. At first Buck was mad that Teaspoon was going to tell him how to live his life. But Buck knew that Teaspoon was doing this out of concern. And he had to admit that hearing that tone in the old Marshal's voice had suddenly brought him back to old times when life was simpler. There had still been so much Buck, and all of the other riders in that case, didn't know about back then.
"Maybe you can't be saving the Indians, but you can be helping them," Teaspoon said. Buck didn't say anything. He had a feeling that Teaspoon had quite a mouthful to say, and Buck realized that it must have been almost a decade since he and Teaspoon had had one of these long talks.
Seeing Buck's lack of response Teaspoon continued, "Sitting around and doin' nothin' is gonna eat you up inside. I know what kinda man you are Buck. You've always been more the doin' type, words ain't much use to you. "
"There isn't anything I can do," Buck chimed in.
"Now, you ain't right there son." Teaspoon quickly responded. He then sighed deeply and continued, "I know that for whatever reason, you can't be fightin' anymore. There's only so much fightin' a man can take before he becomes something that ain't quite human anymore. But there's other things you can be doin'."
Buck silently let the old man finish his point. "The Indians, they respect you. More than they'd ever respect any white man, probably more than they respect most half-bloods. And whites respect you too. Now I know you spent your whole life being torn apart by these two worlds, but you've made your peace with that. The Indians they need you to use your ability to see both sides of the issue and be trusted by both sides, to connect the white and the red world together."
Buck was shocked at how well the old lawman actually knew him. Buck had always suspected that Teaspoon knew all this about him and just never discussed it. Now Buck knew that the ex-stationmaster did know him. Maybe even better than he knew himself.
"Now at one time the Indians would trust a man like me, who knew their world," Teaspoon continued. "But not anymore. They been hurt too bad and seen too many broken promises to ever trust a white man again, even if he did live among them and take one of them for his wife. But you," Teaspoon said his eyes narrowing on Buck who sat across the office, "you they can trust. You've proven yourself in battle with them, and they know where you heart truly lies."
"What makes you think that the government would ever trust me after they know that I've fought with the Kiowa?" Buck asked. He doubted that the Government would trust him, even if the people of Rock Creek did. If a good friend like Cody didn't trust him anymore, how could the government?
"Truth is the government doesn't have much choice about this," Teaspoon answered. "They want peace with the Indians, but realize that too much bad blood has passed to get it easily anymore. There are people that would rather end the war with a peace treaty then the death of all Indians." Teaspoon paused for a second, "I've heard tell that the government is thinking of putting all the Indian tribes on reservations."
"They're not animals to be kept in cages, out of the white man's way!" Buck responded with anger. He knew that Teaspoon was just informing him of what he'd heard, but still it wasn't an alternative to death that Buck liked and he knew the Indians wouldn't either.
"That or death is what will happen if men like you don't help the government make treaties with tribes," Teaspoon calmly replied. Buck knew the old lawman was right. There would be no happy endings for the Indians. But there were better and worse alternatives. Buck hoped for the best possible solution for the Indians. They deserved so much better than they would ever ever get. They deserved to roam the plains of that their forefathers had in peace. This was their land, it always had been and it always would be, no matter what white men currently dwelled on it.
Teaspoon, seeing that he had somewhat gotten through to Buck, said, "I've been asked to met with the Sioux chief Sitting Bull to discuss a peace treaty next week. But I know that he won't trust me anymore. I'm sending you in my place." That last sentence was said with authority that Teaspoon did not possess over Buck. Buck was his deputy and in matters of the law could request and command him to do stuff. That was his right. He was Buck's boss. But this was not a matter of law. During the Express days Teaspoon could ask him such a thing. But those days were long dead and would never return. Teaspoon had no right to ask this of him.
"You can't make me go," Buck said with silent anger. "You no longer have that power over me."
"You are going son," Teaspoon strongly said, "I've already informed the army that you're taking my place."
"They won't trust me Teaspoon," Buck said with anger. He shouldn't be yelling at his old friend. But he was not able to make Buck do this. "They hate me. They hate all of us!"
"Your father was white," Teaspoon responded, not taken back by Buck's anger in the least.
"But my mother was Kiowa," Buck quickly replied. "That is all that men like that see."
"I've told them all this Buck," Teaspoon calmly added, "They agree that only another Indian could possibly talk peace with these men."
Buck just sat across the room from the ex-station-master. The air was now filled with anger between these two men that had long been friends. How could Teaspoon tell him to do this? How did he think that Buck would agree? Was he going to make Buck go whether he was willing or not? And just how was he going to do that?
Buck looked across the room at his old friend. He had never truly had a father. Many of the other riders had had fathers that were no good. Lou's mother had left her father because he abused her. Kid's father had run out on his family. Jimmy's father was known to beat his mother. But even if their fathers had not been good men, they had fathers. Buck had never known that feeling. His mother's husband cared little for him. Buck didn't blame him for this. The act of his creation would not have been an easy one for a man to deal with. Buck had never had to face such a thing himself.
The years were beginning to show on Teaspoon's face. His once gray hair was now, practically all white. The old lines had been deepened by the harsh years of the war and life. His hands weren't always as steady as they had once been. His strength wasn't what it had been ten years earlier. Teaspoon had lived and full and exciting life. Buck supposed that the lord would take the old man in his sleep one night, several decades from now. And that great life would be softly blown out like an old candle in the gentle breeze of an open window.
Teaspoon was the closest thing he had to a father. Buck knew that he was closer to the ex-stationmaster than any of the other riders. Maybe it had something to do with Buck wanting to receive the love of a man other than his brother or friends, the love of a man in a fatherly way. Teaspoon was giving him fatherly advice. Something that he hadn't done in years. He did it out of love for Buck. Love for a man that he loved as the son he had never had.
Buck would go to meet Sitting Bear. He imagined that even his words couldn't persuade the Lakota chief. But he would go. He would do what he could to help. He would do what Teaspoon asked. As the only man that had ever loved Buck as a son, he did have the right to ask this of him. He was asking that Buck do this for his own happiness. Teaspoon wanted peace for the Indians, but more than that he wanted peace for Buck's soul.
Without words, Teaspoon could see Buck's change of heart. He knew that Buck would go. "I'll have Rachel prepare the stuff you'll need," Teaspoon said. Buck simply nodded his head in agreement. Teaspoon didn't require him to respond with words. And then the two of them fell into their normal silence, thoughts of the other running through their heads.
TO BE CONTINUED...Chapters XIV and XV
Copyright 1998-This work is not to be reproduced without the permission of the author
The Way Station
Campfire Tales
