Chapter Forty One "Hold still," Teaspoon scolded Buck loudly as the Kiowa winced while Teaspoon wrapped another set of bandages around him. A few moments after Jimmy had shot Michael, Teaspoon and Lyons had arrived. They had helped everyone to the doctor's office. The preacher had also been summoned. All Kyla knew now was Michael was alive, a bullet still lodged in his shoulder, and his father was with him, in another room. Teaspoon was swaddling Buck in bandages, slowing the bleeding until the doctor could tend to him. Rachel had wrapped Kyla's injury. She too was in line for the doctor. The doctor was in another room, working on Tory. Kyla dropped her head, praying that her sister would be okay. All she had seen was Teaspoon wrapping a blanket tightly around her and getting her on his horse, then speeding away. Lyons had helped the rest of them get here. Rachel, Kid and Lou had arrived just moments later, offering aid wherever they could. "She'll be okay," Jimmy told her quietly, taking her hand in his. Kyla could not even squeeze his hand back in response to his gesture. Her little sister was all she had. If Tory died . . . It seemed like hours as the tiny group waited for the doctor silently. No one made any effort to talk. Just the occasional murmurs of comfort or moans of pains as dressings were adjusted and tightened. Kyla heard the door open and she finally raised her head. She saw the doctor standing there, his clothes covered in blood, her sister's blood, she realized, her heart constricting. "I'm so sorry," the doctor began. Kyla's head began to spin. She was going to be sick. She tried to take a breath but could not. She began coughing. Lou quickly handed her a glass of water, obviously anxious to be of any help whatsoever. "She never regained -" Kyla dropped the glass and leapt to her feet. She began pounding the doctor on the chest with her fists. "No!" She could not let him say the words. Her sister was alive, she was alive! "I did everything - " "She is fine!" Kyla cried. The doctor shook his head, placing his arms on Kyla's, holding her firmly in place. "She had lost so much blood, her injuries were too severe -" "Shut up!" "I did everything I could, every trick I had ever learned." The doctor's voice broke with those words. Kyla felt Jimmy pull her away from the doctor. "She just needs to rest," Kyla whimpered. "Kyla," Jimmy whispered, his thumb brushing away the tears that were streaming down her face. In her haze of grief, Kyla saw Jimmy was crying too. They were all crying. Kid and Lou, locked in each other's arms, Rachel sagging against Lyons, Teaspoon, all alone, his fists clenched tightly and Buck, sitting upright on the cot, his face pale from his own injuries. "You did this!" Kyla shouted, lashing out angrily. "You all might as well be the ones who stabbed her." "Don't." Jimmy shook his head, holding her tightly. Kyla slapped at him, pushing him away. "Don't touch me. Just stay away from me." She moved to the door, her breath coming raggedly. "You," Kyla glared at Rachel, "you dragged Tory into your world. You made her feel like staying with you was better, safer." She laughed bitterly. "Look where that got her." Kyla then turned to Teaspoon. "You didn't protect her. You were supposed to watch her while I played bait in your game of cat and mouse." "You," Kyla told Buck coldly. "Tory thought the world of you. She thought you two were connected because people picked on you because of your family. Every time she ran away, she knew you'd find her. But you let her down when she needed you most." Kyla began sobbing. "Kyla," Jimmy murmured. "And you," Kyla said to Jimmy, her voice breaking. "You snookered both of us. Tory thought the sun rose and set on your shoulders. Nothing would hurt her, either one of us, with Wild Bill Hickok around. She'd be alive if you hadn't pushed me into seeing the preacher. But no, you had to make me into a respectable woman so you'd feel good about yourself. Everything about us was a lie. This is why I worked at the saloon. There are no lies, no promises. It's all just business." "Kyla, stop," Jimmy said desperately, "you know none of that is true. We'd all -" "I don't care," Kyla screamed. "All I know is Tory is dead and everyone else is fine." Kyla jerked the door open and ran outside. She just wanted to get away. She did not care that her side was bleeding profusely now, that the pain made her stagger as she ran. She just needed to get away. Tory's dead, the doctor's voice reverberated in her head. "Shut up!" Kyla screamed once more, still running blindly. Chapter Forty Two Kyla lifted the bottle in her hand and took a long swig. It numbed the pain quite a bit. The pain from her stabbing as well as the pain of her sister's death. Somewhere between now and the doctor's office, Kyla had stopped trying to convince herself that Tory was alive. Tory was dead. Unable to stifle the sob that rose inside her, Kyla quickly covered it by taking another drink. She ended up with the whiskey in her lungs and coughed violently. "Ooh," she groaned. Coughing hurt like hell. She rested her hand on her injured side as she sat on the saloon steps, wearing only her shift. Seems as if John Towers, the saloon owner, did not want any of his dresses getting soaked in blood. After leaving the doctor's office, Kyla had come here, to her home, the saloon. John had expressed his shock at her being alive. After recovering himself, he had agreed to hire her again. But the first customer she had been with had taken one look at her bloody side and left. John had come up the stairs and promptly kicked her out, cursing at her for ruining the dress he had loaned her. So here she sat, half-dressed and more than a little drunk. But it was better than the alternative. Dealing with Tory's death. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Get up!" Kyla opened her eyes; surprised to realize she had dozed off. But she was still where she last remembered. On the stairs, whiskey in hand. "You are not going to do this," Buck said, regarding her solemnly. "Do what?" Kyla asked, deliberately yawning. "Throw your life away, just so you can punish everyone." Kyla rolled her eyes at Buck. "Don't do this, Kyla." Buck sat down heavily beside her, clutching his belly. "That's all you people say, 'don't do this, Kyla'," she said, mockingly. "You blamed everyone for Tory's death and you said some really hurtful things -" "So?" Kyla said, her voice challenging. "I know what it's like to lose someone close to you. When my friend died," Buck paused, "I was in a bad place. I did something stupid and am damned lucky I am still walking around free. I blamed so many people for his death, but I blamed myself most of all." Kyla choked back a sob. It was her fault. Tory would be alive if she was living at home. Tory was following Michael because she knew Michael wanted to hurt her. "Its only one person's fault," Buck said softly. "Michael's. His father is blaming himself. Jimmy and Teaspoon are all torn up inside, thinking they could have done something. And you look like you are trying to kill yourself. Do you think Tory would want this? Any of this? She loved you. She loved all of us, including the preacher. He was something special to her too." "I know," Kyla whispered. Her little worldly-wise sister would be able to do something to help these people. She always could. She had more insight and more resolve in her little finger than Kyla did in her whole body. "So stop this," Buck said. He looked off in the distance and smiled. "She was so proud when you told her you weren't working at the saloon and that you and Jimmy were trying. She had this whole life figured out for you. You would make up sketches of hats and dresses and then someone would make them. You'd sell them and get rich. Then the four of us," Buck chuckled, "would move to New York and you'd be a famous designer." "She always did have a wild imagination," Kyla said, able to smile a bit at Buck's story. "You have to start living the life she wanted for you. You owe her that." All Kyla could do was nod. Tory would be so sad to see her drunken, half-naked form, lying in the gutter. And the worst thing would be that Tory would blame herself for her sister's state. "I'm sorry for what I said. Tory loved all of you." She touched Buck's hand. "Especially you. She wanted to be older just so she could have a chance with you. You had to have known this." Buck nodded. "But you never let on, never made her feel silly. You just treated like a little sister and eventually she started acting like one." Kyla too looked off in the distance. She wondered if Buck was imagining Tory running about, as she was. God, even though it was just in her head, it felt so good to see her sister again. She did not think she could go a lifetime without ever seeing her. "Without even knowing you, anyone of you," she amended, "I trusted you with my prize possession, Tory. Because I saw she was a prize to all of you as well. "I just don't understand how someone could kill a little girl like that," Kyla said softly. Tory was special, everyone saw that. Yet Michael did not. "Michael hated saloon girls. But Tory . . . she was a child." "People hate for so many reasons. It's easier to kill when you believe your victims aren't human or that they deserve it," Buck told her. And Kyla wondered if he was talking about his people in general or himself. She knew only a tiny bit about Buck Cross' life and only a little more about how his people were treated. "I feel bad for his father." "What? Why?" Kyla snapped. Right now she hated the preacher as much as she hated his son. "You didn't see him," Buck replied. "The man, he was so broken when he saw Tory. And when Teaspoon told him it was his son." Buck shook his head. "I don't know, it was like he was being ripped apart. He loves his son but knowing what his son has done, how can anyone deal with that?" "I don't know," Kyla said. She had not even considered the preacher's point of view. The man was so peace loving, so forgiving, yet his son was the exact opposite. "So you ready to leave?" Buck asked, wincing in pain as he rose to his feet. "I'm feeling kinda light-headed. I need to lay down." Kyla glanced at his shirt, a spot of blood had appeared. "First we'll go to the doctor and he can sew you up, maybe check me once more, then we can head home," Buck said, his voice rising with the last phrase. Home to the waystation, Kyla thought and a wave of both sorrow and happiness crashed over her. It had been Tory's home too. But she longed to go there, to be with people who cared about her sister as much as she did. "Yes," she said finally. Chapter Forty Three "You will stay here tonight," the doctor commanded Buck. He had been most displeased to learn his patient had been running around town instead of staying put as he had been ordered to. "That way I can ensure my orders are carried out." "Yes sir," Buck said, almost meekly. Once Buck was lying in a bed, the doctor turned to Kyla. She had already been stitched up and her ribcage tightly bound. "Do you want to see Tory?" he asked quietly. No, Kyla longed to shout. But she merely nodded. She owed Tory everything. Had it not been for Tory, she and Buck would have been killed. She could not let her sister lie there, all alone. The doctor opened the door to a tiny room. Kyla began to cry softly when she saw a small figure covered in a white sheet. "Shall I sit with you?" the doctor asked. "No," Kyla whispered. She wanted to be alone with her sister. Once the doctor had shut the door, Kyla pulled the sheet down. She was pleased to see that all the blood had been washed from her body. She was not wearing her own clothes but a plain white cotton gown that covered her from neck to ankles. Kyla was relieved that she would not have to see the injuries her sister had suffered. "I can't do this," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around Tory. "Why did you leave me? What am I supposed to do now?" Kyla pulled a chair close to the bed. "You had to go and play hero," she chided her gently. She kissed Tory's forehead. "You saved me, you know that. Buck and I are alive because of you. You are the bravest person I have ever met." For a long time, Kyla sat with her sister, just holding her hand. She did not speak much; she simply tried to recall the happier times. "Can I come in?" a voice from behind her asked. When Kyla turned, she was not surprised to see Jimmy there. "Yeah." She watched as Jimmy moved slowly across the room. As soon as he reached her side, he dragged a chair close to hers and she took his hand. "I'm sorry for what I said before." "You were right," Jimmy muttered, stroking Tory's cheek with his other hand. "I should have saved her." "There's only one person responsible and it isn't you," Kyla murmured, burying her face in Jimmy's neck as she echoed Buck's words. She was so glad to see him here. Of all the people she knew, there were only two she would want with her now and the other was not someone she longed to throw her arms around and kiss. It had shocked her, that thrill of electricity that ran through her when she saw Jimmy in the doorway. She had never felt that way about any man. But she also understood that it was the grief as well as the attraction. She had been with many men after they had lost a wife. They just wanted to connect with someone in a life affirming way. Even men who had never stepped foot in a saloon before would appear after the death of a spouse. But the saddest thing was when men would come after a child had died. Kyla knew they should turn to their wives instead of her. Their grief should be shared with the only other person who understood it. And they should connect in the most intimate way possible. Yet they often did not. Slowly she lifted her lips until they met Jimmy's and he kissed her hungrily. "Take me home," she murmured. She wanted what those men wanted, she wanted to connect with someone, she wanted to defy death and she wanted it with someone who was hurting as much as she was. Jimmy would not take one look at her injury as her customer had earlier and run away. He cared about her, the good, the bad and the ugly. "You sure about this?" Kyla saw the confusion in his eyes. "This is about the only thing I am sure of now," Kyla told him, rising to her feet. She kissed Tory's forehead. "Don't let me mess this up, okay?" she smiled before covering her sister. "Kyla," Jimmy began. "You having second thoughts?" Kyla asked, her voice teasing. "We can wait if you aren't ready." "Shut up," Jimmy growled. He grabbed her wrist with both hands and together they hurried to the waystation as fast as their wounded bodies would let them. Chapter Forty Four Kyla awoke sometime in the middle of the night, feeling confused. She had had the strangest dream. Tory was dead. She felt a heavy arm across her body. "Tory," she murmured. Her little sister was taking up too much room in the bed. She heard a mutter. The voice was too deep for Tory. Jerking herself into a state of wakefulness, she opened her eyes. Jimmy was beside her. Oh God, it was true, she thought with a tiny sob. Tory was dead. She pressed her face against Jimmy's shoulder. "Shh," Kyla heard him murmur. She nestled herself close to him and closed her eyes, drawing comfort from his warm embrace. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Jimmy felt something press against his leg. He opened his eyes slowly and glanced out the window automatically. The sunlight was streaming inside the bunkhouse. He and Kyla would have to get dressed soon if they did not want to be embarrassed. He gave Kyla a quizzical look. Kyla was wearing only her shift and her bare leg pressed against his own naked limb. "What are you doing?" he asked with a half smile. "Men's legs are so much different than women's," she said, frowning. She wiggled her toes. "Yours are so . . . so much wider. Everything about you is so much wider." Jimmy gave her a strange look. "I couldn't sleep," Kyla admitted. "So you were studying me?" Jimmy exclaimed. "You're nice to look at," Kyla said softly. Jimmy noted how flushed her cheeks were as she said the words. He stroked her inner thigh. "Oh yeah?" Kyla pulled away slightly. "Sorry," Jimmy said quickly. He had been almost nervous with Kyla. Not the first time, but the second. The first had been driven by all of his longings; his needs drowning out every lick of common sense he possessed. The second, well, he had worried, not that it had stopped him. Kyla had been so hurt. The last thing he wanted to be was another man who had hurt her. Kyla gave him a sad smile. "It's not that," she said, immediately understanding Jimmy's apology. "I just don't want Teaspoon or Rachel to catch us." She looked at him pensively. "I don't want to move out." A few tears rolled down her face. "I can't do this alone," she added brokenly. "You won't have to do it alone," he assured her. But as he spoke a new fear arose in Jimmy's mind. "And you don't feel like you have to pay me back for being there with you." "Huh?" "Lying with me," Jimmy said in a pained voice. "I don't wanna push you." "You didn't push me," Kyla told him, her eyes full of confusion. "I don't wanna be another man who hurt you," Jimmy said quietly. "You didn't hurt me." Kyla's expression grew even more befuddled. "I mean..." Jimmy stopped. How did he explain this? "I want you to be with me because, because -" "I lust for you," Kyla finished for him, her eyes dancing. "It ain't funny," Jimmy muttered. "It is," Kyla smiled, "a little." She kissed his cheek. "I do want you. But probably not in the way you think." It was Jimmy's turn to be confused now. He simply stared at her. "You are a handsome man," Kyla said softly, looking at Jimmy's hands. "But I have been with handsome men, even before working in the saloon. I want to be with you because you make me better." She lifted her head. "I know that's not want you want to hear -" "No," Jimmy interrupted, "it's okay. How do I make you better?" "You don't let me fall, you catch me then you help me walk on my own two feet." "That's good," Jimmy said, trying to sound pleased. But inside he was deflated. He was nothing but a friend. "I'm saying it all wrong," Kyla said, frustrated. "When I saw you in that room, where Tory was," her voice dropped, "I was so glad. Glad that it was you." Jimmy nodded. Yep, just as he suspected a friend who could offer comfort and for that Kyla had served herself up on a platter because he wanted her. "I wanted to come back here, with you. I wanted you to hold me, kiss me. Make me feel good." Kyla touched his arm. "And you did all that. Because I was not just a ten dollar whore to you. When I look in your eyes I see what you feel for me and that makes me feel good about myself. That I am worthy of having a man care for me. "I know now it wasn't just your job when you saved my life, it was because you did not want me to die. Every scar on your back is a reminder of how much you will do for me. No one has ever done anything for me until I met you people, except Tory," Kyla whispered. "I was speaking to Buck earlier when he found me." Jimmy nodded. Kyla had briefly recounted her actions after she fled the doctor's. Jimmy had suspected she would return to the saloon but had not yet made his way there. He did not want to see Kyla try to destroy herself. But he would have gone there, eventually. "He told me how proud Tory was of me for changing my life. I can't backslide because she isn't here," Kyla said, her voice catching in her throat. "She believed that I deserve to be happy. And part of being happy is lying with the man I care about. Not because it's my job but because it's about two people who want to be close, who want more than their own gratification." Kyla paused. "I don't know what that is. I just know I want it. With you. Losing Tory . . ." She shook her head. "It is ripping my heart out. But it also is a bit of a wake up call." "How?" "I loved Tory," Kyla whispered. "But I hardly ever told her. And for so much of the last year I spent most of my time yelling at her. I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't want to be afraid to care about someone and I don't want to be afraid to show them that I care either. Does any of that make sense?" Jimmy nodded. "I know what it's like, being afraid to care." He smiled slightly. "I ain't too sure what to call it either. But I know I want it. With you." More than anything, he wanted to be with Kyla. He wanted her all, body and soul, and Kyla was giving it to him. Not out of gratitude or loneliness, but because she wanted to share her life. Tears shining in her eyes, Kyla wrapped her arms around him. Chapter Forty Five Buck hurried from his bedroom, tucking in his shirt as he barreled down the stairs of Rachel's home. His home now. Ever since he had been allowed to return home, he had stayed here. At first it was because he needed more care than Jimmy or Kyla could provide. Now it was his choice. Jimmy and Kyla did not need him hanging around, acting like a third wheel. He was pretty sure what had transpired between those two and all they needed now was each other. He hated the thought of interrupting them. But today was the day. Michael's trial started today. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Kyla placed the hat on her head and absently studied her reflection in the mirror. It had been almost three weeks since Tory had been buried. She was still here, at the waystation. And she was glad of it. She could not afford any other place to stay and she thought, looking at Jimmy who was pulling on his boots, she did not want to be separated from him. She adjusted a lock of hair. She may look perfectly presentable; she always looked presentable these days except she was not. She no longer worked at the saloon but at the dressmaker. Yet at night she ran home to live with a man she was not married to, to share his bed and anything else he would offer. No one made any attempt to move her out, to a boarding house or a room in Rachel's. They all seemed to be glad that she was there, even though the circumstances were highly unusual. They probably thought she would shatter like glass if she were forced to leave, Kyla mused. And she might at that. All her energy had been put toward this trial. Once Michael was in jail, she would make a life for herself, a life no one could condemn. A life that she hoped would continue to include the man she was growing ever increasingly fond of. But for now, she needed to be here. She needed to be with Jimmy. He held her tightly every night, chasing away the demons that tormented her; he regaled her with tales of his life, alternating between thrilling her and making her laugh; he shared his many sorrows, the losses he experienced and the pain that shaped him. Each little bit of him he gave to her helped Kyla feel whole again. Moreover it helped her let him experience her own ups and downs. Her life had not always been so filled with agony. She had many happy memories, with her parents, Tory, her extended family and friends. And on one rainy day, she had even told Jimmy about Zeke. He had not said much, mostly just listened. But that was all Kyla wanted him to do. It was out; she no longer had to let it sit inside and fester. Jimmy was also the one who had encouraged her to follow her dream, Tory's dream really. With his help, Kyla had steeled her nerves and introduced herself to the dressmaker, who eyed her warily, and presented her plan. She would draw sketches so customers could see what they were getting. Kyla had also told the dressmaker, Mrs. Poole, that having sketches, rather than actual dresses would save her money. Once a customer saw a sketch they liked, Mrs. Poole could create the dress, rather than rip out seams and alter necklines. Kyla was not sure what Mrs. Poole knew about her and she did not ask, nor did she tell. Mrs. Poole mulled over her proposal for almost a day and then much to Kyla's joy, she hired her. Even though Mrs. Poole chose not to ask her about her past, others did. So many women had come right out and asked her if she was a saloon whore. Some smiled in approval when she said yes, she had been, and they told her they were pleased she had left the life. Others stormed away, never to return. And even if the women did not ask, they always looked down their noses at her. But the women were easy compared to the men. The men were awful. Most knew what she had been and they were forever grabbing her, rubbing themselves against her. Kyla took great pains never to be alone with a man in the store. But if their wives were in a fitting room, that was enough for most to reach out and fondle her. Kyla glanced surreptitiously at Jimmy. He had no idea what went on at the store. She was a little afraid to tell him, knowing how he might react. She then looked out the window; Buck, Rachel and Teaspoon were all outside, waiting on them. Kyla smiled sadly. It would be funny if it was not so pathetic. Buck Cross had bought three ladies' hats. What he did with them, Kyla had no idea. Rachel had bought one and Teaspoon as well. Kyla touch the brim of the hat she wore now. Jimmy had bought it for her. But in spite of all these sales, Mrs. Poole was losing business and it was all because of her. "You ready?" Jimmy asked quietly, standing by the door. Kyla nodded, slipping her arm in his. Mrs. Poole would have to let her go, sooner or later, Kyla realized. She looked up at Jimmy. Then what? Chapter Forty Six The prosecuting attorney, Joseph Dobbins, instructed Teaspoon, Lyons, Buck, Jimmy and Kyla to wait in the hotel lobby. "I will call you in one by one after my opening statement," he informed them. "Witness' can stay for the duration of the trial once they have testified." The others nodded and Kyla hesitated. "Yes?" Mr. Dobbins said, focusing his pale blue eyes upon her. He pushed a lock of his unruly fair hair back. "You'll get a conviction, won't you?" she asked quietly. She knew Mr. Dobbins was an up and coming prosecutor. Winning this case would be a feather in his cap. But he was also young and inexperienced. Would the defense attorney be able to turn this case around because of his naiveté? Would his ambition affect anything? Kyla was just not sure. This case was so important to her. She wished Lyons were a lawyer. She had faith in his ability and his conviction. He wanted Michael to be punished as much as she did. "We have him dead to rights," Mr. Dobbins assured her. "Mr. Lyons has put together the pieces. We have Michael in each town where the killings happened. You and Mr. Cross were witnesses to the last killing." He flipped through his papers. "Tory, Victoria Haversmith," Kyla told him, her voice shaking. This was going to be much more difficult than she had anticipated. All she had focused on was Michael's punishment. She had completely ignored the rest. "Your sister," Mr. Dobbins said gently. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the details I forget what really happened. Innocent people were killed. You and Mr.'s. Cross and Hickok were injured. Michael Snyder will pay for what he did," he finished resolutely. Kyla nodded, reassured by the man's determination. "I will call in Mr. Lyons first," Mr. Dobbins continued, once again flipping through his notes. "Then the marshal and then possibly Mr. Hickok. If I don't get to you," he said to Jimmy, "then you and Mr. Cross will start off the afternoon. I'd like to finish the day with you," he told Kyla. She would be here all day, Kyla thought miserably. But if it meant Michael would hang for what he did, then she would gladly sit here for a year. "Now remember," Mr. Dobbins said, addressing the whole group once again, "this order is only if everything goes as planned and we get through the evidence in a timely manner." "What do you mean?" Jimmy asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Kyla felt her stomach tighten into knots. What if everything did not go as planned? "The timing," Mr. Dobbins said. "You might be here for a few days or one. I just want you all to be aware of that." "Don't fret about us," Teaspoon drawled. "Just lay out your case and call us in when you need us. We will be ready." "I know you will," Mr. Dobbins smiled as he moved toward the door. Chapter Forty Seven "What's going on out there?" Jimmy asked suddenly. He had been pacing the floor anxiously ever since Mr. Dobbins had left. No one had spoken much. Teaspoon and Lyons were playing cards, Buck was reading and Kyla was watching all of them. "The whole street is full of people," Jimmy continued, a frown crossing his features. "Should we go find out?" Buck asked uncertainly as he closed his book. "I don't -" Teaspoon began. But he did not get much further as Mr. Dobbins burst into the room. "I'm so sorry," Mr. Dobbins said, shaking his head. "Sorry?" the group exclaimed in unison. "Please," Mr. Dobbins said, waving his hand, "sit down." He raked his hand through his pale locks; his thin face lined with worry. Once everyone was seated, he cleared his throat. "There is not going to be a trial," he began. "Michael confessed?" "He ran off?" "Is the evidence compromised?" "Is the defense attorney playing games?" A whole host of questions flooded the room. Once again, Mr. Dobbins raised his hand. "Please, not all at once." He sighed deeply. "He's getting away with it, isn't he?" Kyla cried, visibly shrinking in her seat. "No, Dobbins said they had him dead to rights," Jimmy said, hugging her against him. "Look at him," Kyla half shouted, pointed an accusing finger at Dobbins. "It's written all over his face. Michael is going free!" As soon as she said the words, everyone was standing back up again. "Is she right?" Teaspoon asked quietly. Mr. Dobbins nodded. "But he isn't going free." "What?" Kyla asked, her whole body shaking with anger and shock. This was her worst nightmare; that Michael would get away with killing her sister. "What, because his victims weren't high society they don't count? My sister doesn't get to celebrate her tenth birthday and he gets to live to be an old man?" Her voice grew higher in pitch with each word. "No, please," Mr. Dobbins tried desperately to explain. "Michael is not going to jail. But he is not going free either." "What do you mean?" Teaspoon asked solemnly. "His father made arrangements. He is going to the asylum in Kansas. Apparently they have family there," Mr. Dobbins told them. "An asylum?" Jimmy exploded. "So he can get three meals, a nice bed and some doctors to poke at him once in a while? He deserves to swing at the end of a rope." "Apparently Reverend Snyder made a compelling argument according to the judge." Mr. Dobbins shrugged. "I really don't understand it. But it's done." "Can't you do anything?" Buck whispered, his face full of anguish. "I mean he killed so many women. Mr. Lyons and Kyla have both lost family -" "I wish I could, but my hands are tied," Mr. Dobbins said sadly. "I'm so sorry." "Sorry?" Kyla said shrilly. She felt so betrayed. She had not spoken to the preacher since Tory had died. She had not even seen him. Yet to learn that he did this, that he snuck around and made sure his son was protected while her sister lay in the ground, it wounded her deeply. Michael may be his son, but his son killed Tory! Did Tory mean nothing to him? Was all his talk about saving others just a lie? "What is sorry going to do? Nothing." She was going to be sick. She felt her knees start to buckle. A second later, her head began to spin. Just before her world went dark, she heard Jimmy shout out her name. Chapter Forty Eight Kyla woke up in the doctor's office. Her eyes darted around the room. The last place she ever wanted to be was here. The place where Tory died. She jumped out of the bed and began running. "Whoa there," the doctor said, catching her by the waist. He tried to lead her back into the room. "I'm not going there," Kyla shrieked. She tried to push the doctor's hands off her. "Kyla, I'm only trying to help you," the doctor told her in a puzzled voice. "It's okay," Jimmy said, opening the door of the office and hurrying inside. He wrapped his arms around Kyla. "I'm going to get a sedative," the doctor told Jimmy. "No!" Kyla exclaimed loudly. "You leave me alone." Jimmy shook his head. "Let me try," he said to the doctor. The doctor sighed loudly and stepped discreetly into another part of his office. "I have to get out of here," Kyla said, her face ashen. She felt as if she was losing her mind. "I'd like the doctor to get a look -" "No!" Kyla interrupted. "Please. I can't be here. Tory died here." "Then we'll step outside," Jimmy said quietly. He took her hand and led her to the porch. Kyla took a deep breath, the panic that filled her earlier began to abate, if only a little. "Where were you?" she asked softly. Part of the reason she had been so unnerved was waking up without him. She had not done that in weeks. When did she become so dependent on him? She used to pride herself on not needing anyone. But ever since Tory died, Kyla learned how much she truly needed people. She missed her sister so much. She already called Buck friend. But in the past few weeks, she had learned to accept the friendship Teaspoon, Rachel, Kid and Lou offered. Then there was him. Kyla leaned against Jimmy. Whenever he was gone, working for Teaspoon as a deputy or on one of the rare Express rides, she ached for him. "The jail," Jimmy explained, stroking Kyla's hair. "The doctor shooed me away, so I figured I could hang around there, try to learn what happened, see if I couldn't help Lyons and Teaspoon persuade the judge to go on with the trial." Kyla nodded. "Excuse me." Kyla looked up and found the preacher there. She began to shake her head. She could not deal with this, not now. "If it's okay, I'd like to speak to Kyla." The preacher glanced at Jimmy. "Alone." "I don't -" Jimmy began. "No," Kyla said, moving away from Jimmy, her voice filled with malice, "I want to speak to him. I have a lot to say." "Kyla," Jimmy said sadly. But when she refused to even look at him, like the doctor before him, he quietly slipped away. "Yes?" Kyla asked archly once Jimmy was gone. "I never told you how sorry I am about Tory. If I could exchange places with her, I gladly would," the preacher whispered. "I can't hear you," Kyla hissed. "You are sorry? Sorry your son is a murderer? Or are you sorry you got him set free?" "He's not free, Kyla," the preacher implored her. "He is going to get the help he needs." "And you are so big on people getting help, aren't you? Going from town to town, trying to save us whores meanwhile your son is out killing us. Kind of a perfect plan, be saved or die," Kyla laughed bitterly. "He is a confused boy," the preacher told her mournfully. "It's not all his fault. I should have been a better father. I helped make him into what he is. I spent so much time trying to help others that I could not see the toll it took on him." "He is a killer, a child killer!" "He was afraid." "Of getting caught, of getting what he deserved." Kyla spat out the words. "He deserves to die." "I know," the preacher said brokenly. "You know? You know!" Kyla shouted. "And you still went to the judge and got him sent to an asylum?" "I heard you fainted," the preacher said abruptly. "What?" Kyla shrieked. "Don't you dare change the subject." She longed to reach out and throttle the man. "Are you with child?" the preacher continued, his tone even. "What?" Kyla exclaimed again. "You have been with Jimmy for quite a while. I assume you aren't taking any precautions as you were when you worked in the saloon." Kyla narrowed her eyes at the man. No, she was not taking any measures to prevent a pregnancy. She certainly had not planned one either if that was what he was implying. She had simply not thought about becoming pregnant. She craved Jimmy's touch because he had become everything to her. A sudden jolt ran through her. Could she be pregnant? Is that why she fainted? "Imagine yourself with a child, Jimmy's child," the preacher beseeched her. "I know how much you care for him, Kyla. I have seen the way you look at him. You made a huge leap of faith, letting him into your life the way you have." "And what? You are proud of me?" Kyla snapped. But the preacher ignored her words and continued his train of thought. "Imagine how much you would love that baby. You would watch him grow, admire him for his strength and intelligence. He would be the culmination of all your hopes and dreams." "Don't -" Kyla had to stop him. She did not want to hear this. "You would do anything to save him," the preacher finished. "Even when he was wrong." His voice dropped. "Even when he deserved everything the law said he did." He turned his sorrow-filled eyes on Kyla. "Because no matter what he had become, all you can see is the baby that called you dada." "Shut up! You shut your mouth. Your son killed my sister. I loved my sister. I watched her grow; I admired her strength and intelligence. I would have done anything to protect her. And I will do anything to make sure your son pays for what he did to her!" Kyla screamed, running away from the man. Chapter Forty Nine "Kyla," Jimmy called out, running into the marshal's office. He had watched as Kyla spoke to the preacher. He could not make out the words and for a while, when she was quiet, he had hoped that the preacher had made her understand or at least had reduced her rage. But he knew Kyla was not listening, especially not at the end. He heard her shouting that she would make Michael pay and he ran after her when he saw her scurry away. "Kyla, what are you doing?" Jimmy asked, his heart constricting. Even though he asked the question, he knew exactly what she was doing. She was making her threat a reality. Kyla was at the gun cabinet. She had a rifle in hand and was now loading it. "Don't do it," Jimmy begged her, putting both hands on the barrel of the rifle. Kyla tried to jerk the gun away. "Let go." Jimmy let his hands drop to his sides. "You are going after Michael." Kyla began stuffing shells into a pouch she had tied around her waist. "Yes." "You are just going to kill him?" "Isn't that obvious?" Kyla snapped. "You aren't that good a shot." "You taught me the basics and I've been practicing. Being Wild Bill Hickok's woman has its advantages." Jimmy felt like he was being torn into pieces. This was the Kyla he had first met. He had thought that Kyla long gone. The Kyla he knew was a grown version of Tory, a warm and loving woman, who had suffered so much. She somehow managed to put all her pain behind her. Until now, he realized sadly. Now his Kyla was gone. But Jimmy was determined to bring her back. "Killing Michael won't bring Tory back." He had to stop her. If she killed Michael, he would lose her forever. And he could not bear that thought. "Don't you think I know that?" Kyla cried. She began to weep and Jimmy gathered her close. "Don't do this," Jimmy murmured, pressing his face against her. "Don't kill in Tory's name. She would hate it. She would hate knowing you destroyed your life trying to avenge the end of hers." Kyla's only response was to cry harder. "Buck told you about Ike, how he shot Neville?" Jimmy asked quietly. He could only hope that he could reach her. "Yes," Kyla managed. "He regretted it." Kyla jerked herself free. "But he would do it again. That man killed his friend and he wasn't going to pay." Jimmy shook his head. The little part of her he had reached was gone. He loved Kyla. More than he had thought possible and the thought of watching her destroy herself was like a stabbing pain deep inside him. "I can't stop you, can I?" "You catch on quick," Kyla retorted. Now that she was once again fully armed, she moved toward the door. Jimmy snatched the rifle out of her hands and threw it. The rifle skittered across the floor stopping only when it finally hit the gun cabinet. Kyla stared wide-eyed at him. "I thought -" "Don't talk, just listen," Jimmy barked. "You are going to stay here -" "Don't order me around!" "I will call Michael out," Jimmy announced. Kyla took a step back, stunned. "What?" she whispered. "Being Wild Bill Hickok's woman has its advantages," Jimmy told her bitterly. He had to do this. He would not go to jail for killing Michael. He knew for a fact that the guards who were escorting him to Kansas were furious at the turn of events. They would gladly step out of the way when he came to challenge Michael. And Michael, being the cocky bastard he was, would not back down. When Jimmy had gone to the jail he had spoken to the guards, he learned how angry they were and how unrepentant Michael was. Jimmy was certain that Michael would face him because he did not think he would lose. After all, God was on his side. If Kyla went after him, she would be caught and she would be punished, acting like some kind of assassin. She would be punished by both the law and her own conscious. Kyla may be acting as if killing Michael was the answer to all her problems but Jimmy knew better. It would tear her up. She was not a famous gunfighter. She had never killed anyone. She did not understand how taking a life could affect a person. He did. He put his hand against her cheek. "Stay here," he said, hoping he sounded commanding. But even to his own ears, his words lacked any real conviction. He just wanted Kyla safe and away from what was about to happen. If it meant him killing Michael then so be it. The alternative was not an option. He dropped his hand quickly and hurried out the door. Kyla stared at the aperture, still reeling from Jimmy's actions. Chapter Fifty "So it's true," Teaspoon said slowly, pulling his horse to a stop. He slid off the animal and came to stand by Jimmy. Jimmy sighed softly, his eyes still on the rise in the road. The stage carrying Michael would be coming soon. The judge had been worried about the mood of the town. He wanted Michael out of Rock Creek as soon as possible. Jimmy had met with the guards before he left town. Everything had been arranged. The guards would see him and lo and behold, a wheel would need tending. He would call Michael out. A guard would give Michael a gun, and then the nightmare would be over. "I thought you'd grown up," Teaspoon continued sadly. "Calling out a boy. Yeah, that is going to be some challenge," he chided him. "This is murder pure and simple. You know that. Now let's forget this nonsense and go home so you can get to that girl of yours." Teaspoon looked at him expectantly. "Jimmy?" "I have to do this, Teaspoon," Jimmy replied somberly. "You don't have to do nothing," Teaspoon told him, his temper rising. "I know you cared about Tory but if Kyla can put this past her." Suddenly he stopped. "Son," he began, his voice quiet now. Jimmy shook his head. "She was coming after him, wasn't she?" Teaspoon asked. Jimmy could not answer. He did not want Kyla linked with Michael's death in any way, shape or form. "Does she realize what this could do to you, as a couple?" Teaspoon asked. "Do you?" "It doesn't matter," Jimmy answered. "Don't you see, I ain't been able to do nothing for her. But I can do this," he added, his voice breaking. "You saved her life!" Teaspoon exclaimed indignantly. "Are you two having problems? Can I do anything to help?" "We were doing fine," Jimmy told him. "Or at least I thought we were. But she doesn't tell me much about herself and I don't know why. It's like she doesn't think I can help her or she doesn't trust me to be there for her." "What do you mean?" "Mrs. Poole was telling me how rough she has been having it at the dress shop. And how much she admires Kyla for showing up to work every day with her head held high in spite of the names some of the women call her and the way the men paw at her. She didn't tell me any of that," Jimmy said, her voice filled with hurt. "Maybe she didn't want to upset you or she thought you'd react badly. You do have a hair trigger," Teaspoon said, giving Jimmy a wry grin. "Don't you see, I couldn't stop it. She got hurt by Zeke, by some of the men at the saloon and then the people in town. And finally Michael." "You ain't responsible for any of that," Teaspoon exclaimed. "And killing Michael ain't suddenly gonna make Kyla wake up and realize you are her knight in shining armor. You need to talk to her," he said quietly. "Tell her what you know, tell her how it makes you feel when she keeps it all to herself. Make her realize you are with her, good times and bad." "But if Michael lives, Kyla will die." Teaspoon had to see it. The bitterness of knowing her sister's killer went unpunished would destroy her and in turn destroy them. "If you kill Michael like this, a part of you will die. Is that any better?" Teaspoon asked sagely. "Yes," was Jimmy's only response. Teaspoon sighed. Jimmy heard a sound and looked in the direction of the road. Nothing. Frowning, he turned his head. The sound was coming from behind him. "It's Buck." Teaspoon squinted as he tried to focus on the figures coming toward them. "And I think Kyla," he added, puzzled. Jimmy could only watch as Buck on his horse with Kyla behind him raced down the hill. They stopped a few feet away and Kyla jumped off the animal, running to Jimmy's side. "I couldn't find you anywhere," she cried, hugging him tightly. "I was so scared. I went to the jail but some guard told me you already came and went." "You need to get out of here," Jimmy told her flatly. He did not want Kyla to see this. "No!" Kyla said adamantly. "I need to be here." "To watch," Jimmy finished for her, a wave of anguish running through him. She had to make sure he did what he told her. "To stop you," Kyla whispered, her face filled with pain. "I was running all over town, looking for you. I didn't know how to find you." She smiled in Buck's direction. "He followed your tracks. I didn't think you'd get to the road so fast." "I'm an Express rider," Jimmy informed her curtly. "It's our job to get places fast. Now go." He could hear the rumblings of the stage. Kyla obviously did as well. She wrapped her arms even more tightly around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Jimmy could have easily torn himself out of her embrace, but her odd behavior kept him rooted in place. "I want Michael to be punished," she whispered, "but not by you." "Then he ain't gonna get punished," Jimmy replied quietly, resting his forehead against hers. "So be it," Kyla murmured. "Kyla," Jimmy murmured. Did she know what she was saying? Was she afraid that he could be sent to jail for killing Michael? "If we were together, desperate for money, would you sell me to another man?" she asked. "What the hell? Are you crazy? The stage -" Jimmy sputtered. "Damn the stage!" And as she said the words, the stage rumbled by. The driver motioned to Jimmy. Then stopped, realizing the plan was aborted. As the stage drove past them, the driver began gesticulating wildly and from what Jimmy could make of the hand motions, the driver was telling him that any time he appeared, the stage would stop. "You killing Michael is like me selling you," Kyla said, her eyes filling with tears. "I know what killing does to you. I won't have you do it on my behalf. I love you. I love you more than anything." Jimmy could not respond. He could only hug her close. Chapter Fifty One For a long while, Kyla was simply content to just stand there, resting her head against Jimmy's chest and holding him close. She was content to let Teaspoon and Buck quietly ride away, to listen to the stage until she could hear it no more. Until she could no longer put it off. "Why did you do this?" she asked. Why did he take this burden upon himself? He did not want to kill Michael, yet here he was. "Jimmy," Kyla prompted him when he did not answer. "So you wouldn't have to," Jimmy finally responded. "I love you, too." He smoothed a stray lock back from her face. She must look a sight, Kyla thought. Riding here at breakneck speed had left her completely disheveled. Automatically she began brushing her hair back with her fingers. "I wasn't gonna watch while you destroyed your life," Jimmy continued, catching her hand and tucking her hair back with his own fingers. "So you were going to destroy your own?" Kyla exclaimed, slapping away his hand as she felt her irritation grow. "Everyone thinks Wild Bill Hickok is dead? But you would do this anyway?" She could not understand this. No one was coming after him anymore. Jimmy was free. He was free to live out his life as he saw fit. "What should I have done?" Jimmy asked somberly. "Should I have let you kill Michael, watch you go to jail?" "Tory was my sister. It was my decision to go after Michael," Kyla told him softly. "And you never know, I might have gone free," she added ruefully. Yes, that was a longshot, but who knew what might happen. "And you could handle the fact you had killed someone else?" Jimmy asked, frowning. "I don't know." She honestly had no idea. Michael deserved to die. But the thought of watching him fall, knowing she had taken his life was not something she really could comprehend. "You should have let me do this for you, Kyla," Jimmy murmured. "This is the least I can do for you." He laughed bitterly. "It's something I'm pretty good at." "What?" Kyla gave him a quizzical look. He seemed so defeated. "Nothing," Jimmy said quickly. He took her by the hand. "We should get back." Kyla stood firmly in place. "Tell me what is going on? Did I do something to hurt you?" "It ain't nothing." "Jimmy, please." She shook her head. "Do you hate me for wanting Michael dead? For letting you come here to kill him? I came as quick as I could. I was just surprised. I'd never let you do it. I -" "Why didn't you tell me about the dress shop?" Jimmy burst out. Kyla felt the blood drain from her face. "You know?" "Yes, I know." "I didn't want to make things worse," Kyla whispered. "You mean you didn't want me to make things worse. You didn't trust me to help you." "No, I do trust you," Kyla replied, her voice catching, "I just didn't want to bring more trouble your way." She pushed her hair, which kept falling into her eyes, back again. "Everything I touch seems to turn to dust. I am like a reverse Midas. Tory died because of me -" "Kyla, don't." "The last thing I wanted was to drag you into more of my messes. The dress shop was just another one of my problems," Kyla finished brokenly. "I didn't want you to know because I didn't want you to feel like you had to step in and clean up after me." Jimmy gave her a rueful smile. "I used to think like that," he told her, "before I joined the Express. I thought I could do everything and never ask anyone for help. Turns out I was wrong. Part of loving someone is being able to help them. It also means letting them help you. "I love you," Jimmy added, without hesitation. "If it hurts you, then it hurts me. You didn't start the mess. You have done everything you can to turn your life around and if the people in this town won't give you a chance, then damn them all to hell." Kyla was able to smile at bit at that. "But it hurts me more when you shut me out. Part of the reason I wanted to do this, call Michael out, is because I haven't been able to do anything else for you," Jimmy said, his eyes downcast. "You have been so hurt and I couldn't just stand by and watch you get hurt again." "Stand by? Stand by?" Kyla sputtered. She put her hand on his cheeks, waiting to speak until he finally raised his head and met her gaze. "You have been the only thing keeping me from going crazy after Tory died. I don't know how you did it, but every time you walked into a room, even if you weren't holding me, I knew I would be okay. "You gave me the courage to ask Mrs. Poole for a job. Sure, it hasn't been perfect, but at least I know I can do it. I was not a failure in that shop. It probably won't work out but it's not because I can't draw." Kyla saw Jimmy nod but she also saw the misery still etched all over his face. "You didn't stand by when Michael tried to kill me," she continued. "You saved my life! You cared more about my own life than I did." She took his hand and kissed his palm. She understood what the problem was now. "Loving someone doesn't mean you have to help them by coming out here and shooting. Some things just can't be fixed, not like that. You don't have to make up for what Zeke did to me. You can't. No one can. But you have helped me get over what Zeke did just by being you. You stood by me, listened to me when I needed you to listen, you talked when I needed you to talk and you helped me most of all by encouraging me to get help." It pained Kyla to realize this. The preacher in that one conversation had given her the absolution she so desperately craved. She no longer blamed herself for what happened when she was a child. She blamed Zeke. In that same moment, she also managed to stop blaming the preacher for what Michael did. He would have stopped Michael if he had realized what his son had become. How could she forgive herself for what Zeke did, yet continue to blame the preacher for what Michael did? "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what was going on at the dress shop. I will try harder not to shut you out. I'm not very good about letting people in." She smiled shyly. "I haven't done it for very long so it's going to take some practice." Kyla took a deep breath and continued. "Being with me won't be easy." "Me neither," Jimmy said, arching a brow upward, watching her closely. "But when it comes to Zeke, I have to accept what happened and move on. And so do you, if you want to be with me," Kyla's voice dropped to a whisper at the last phrase. Mighty big "if" she realized with a rush of panic. But in spite of the nerves she now felt, Kyla was proud of herself. She had not withered and died at the events of today. She had not tried to destroy herself at yet another loss. Here she was, calmly stating her needs and she actually was not afraid. Well, not that much. As she looked in Jimmy's eyes, she knew she had found someone she could trust. "I want to be with you," Jimmy replied quietly, kissing her hard. Chapter Fifty Two Jimmy cupped his hands in front of his face and blew out a breath of air. It made him smile, as it did when he was a child, to see the frosty white smoke curl out, in spite of the week's events. The Express had finally shut down. A part of him had died that day. The Express had been so much more than a place of work. It was a part of him, his family. Buck was contemplating leaving, going back to the Kiowa. He still had not gone. But the mere thought pained Jimmy. Kid and Lou were already off, on their own, still in Rock Creek. But it was different; everything was different. Kyla had moved out. It has been almost two weeks since Michael had been sent away. Kyla could no longer justify living with Jimmy the way they had been. She was now staying in Rachel's house and Buck had returned. Just one more thing adding to his discontent. He hated sleeping alone. Aw hell, he admitted to himself, he hated being apart from Kyla. He missed their lovemaking, their long talks at three in the morning. He missed waking up to her hair tickling his nose. He missed her things strewn about, her biting comments. He missed everything. He quickened his step when he saw the first flakes begin to fall from the quickly darkening sky. But he quickly skidded to a stop when he saw Kyla sitting on the steps of the bunkhouse. He took a seat beside her. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He began nibbling on her neck, his other hand settling on her waist as he pulled her closer. He wondered how long Buck was going to be gone. "I came to talk to you," Kyla said seriously. Jimmy raised his head and regarded her, his eyes still twinkling. "Stop," Kyla said, swatting him lightly. "Stop what?" "Looking at me like that." "Like what?" "Like you are going to drag me inside and ravish me." Jimmy shrugged, that's what he had planned when he saw her there. "I need to talk to you," Kyla said, her voice becoming serious once more. "How's the dress shop?" Jimmy asked quietly. Was someone bothering her there? He had started walking Kyla to and from work. He may not be able to silence the comments about Kyla but he could stop them from occurring when he was there. And he could make damn sure that any man who dared think about touching her would know whose woman she was. "I don't work there anymore," Kyla cried softly. "Mrs. Poole just couldn't afford to keep me on any longer." Kyla sniffled, dashing away her tears. "But that's not why I came." Jimmy waited. Kyla could not be rushed. "I'm expecting," Kyla said softly, so softly Jimmy could barely hear her. He leaned closer. "When I fainted, back when Michael's trial was over, I ran into the preacher. He asked me then if I was expecting. I didn't pay him any mind. But now I am late. Really late." She paused. "So I went to the doctor." "And he said you're expecting?" Kyla nodded. "It's yours," she said quietly. "Whose else's would it be?" Jimmy said, looking at Kyla in surprise. "I mean I wasn't expecting when I was at the saloon. I used precautions then." She stopped. "I'm sorry," she cried brokenly. "I never meant for this to happen." "Kyla, I ain't upset. I mean, we did what came natural. I guess having a baby comes natural too," he said with a grin. "I don't know why you are feeling so guilty. I would have asked you sooner or later to marry me," Jimmy declared. "You don't have to marry me," Kyla said quickly. "I just figured you should know." She feigned brightness and beamed at him. "I'm not staying here. I'm jumping on a stage. It will be my grand adventure. I -" "Hush up," Jimmy interrupted. "I'm sorry, it was a lousy proposal. I know. You just took me by surprise. So stop talking about leaving. I couldn't stand living my life without you," he said, surprised by the emotion that filled his words. Because they were true. A life without Kyla would be no life at all. Kyla remained quiet, merely looking at him. Jimmy was simply relieved she had stopped trying to pretend he hadn't hurt her feelings. "I was just waiting to ask," he added softly. "You seemed happy working at the dress shop." He knew Kyla needed that job, not just for money, but to know that she belonged somewhere besides the saloon. He took her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. "I love you, Kyla. Marrying you would be my honor." He dropped to one knee. "Will you be my wife?" "Are you sure?" Kyla whispered. "Do you believe I love you?" Kyla nodded. "I have one condition," she said, swallowing hard. She waited until Jimmy was seated beside her once more. Jimmy looked at her quizzically. Conditions now? "I know your family is here," Kyla whispered, her voice breaking. "I know what they mean to you. But there is nothing for me here. I can't live here and be forever known as Kyla the whore, Kyla poor dead Tory's sister." She shook her head. "I love Tory but my baby, our baby," she amended, "deserves more. He or she deserves a daddy that isn't in constant danger either." Jimmy's eyes went wide with surprise. She was saying no. Did she really want to jump on a stage and disappear? This thought was so unexpected that his heart fell into his shoes. He had been so sure of her love. "Everyone thinks Wild Bill Hickok is dead. Let him stay dead," Kyla beseeched him. "Please," her voice caught in her throat. "Please don't make me watch you die. Not in a gunfight. I am pretty sure you'd still want to be a lawman and that's still dangerous but it's different. "I know I'm asking a lot and I know you already rejected one woman for just that but I can't bear the thought of losing you in some senseless fight just because some man wanted to prove he was quicker on the draw," Kyla continued. "Who would I be?" Jimmy asked, puzzled upon understanding Kyla's words. She was saying yes to his proposal and more. She had obviously thought this out. "James Butler," Kyla answered, averting her eyes. "It's part of your name already." Suddenly she flung her arms around him. "Who am I kidding? Yes, yes I'll marry you." "As James Hickok?" Jimmy was feeling quite befuddled now. "James Hickok, James Butler, I don't care. I love you." She buried her head in his chest. "And what changed your mind? You don't think I'll die in a gunfight?" Jimmy asked. "Either way I could lose you," Kyla whispered. "In a gunfight or here." "You ain't gonna lose me here," Jimmy told her without hesitation. "Or in a gunfight." He kissed her lips. "Our baby does deserve more." He smiled. "And so do we." Chapter Fifty Three "Kyla," Jimmy shouted, entering their small home. They had moved here about two weeks ago after being married in a small ceremony officiated by Teaspoon. Jimmy was now Sam Cain's deputy in Omaha. Jimmy smiled to himself as he recalled the numerous times Sam would bellow 'Hic," stop then shout out, "Butler." It would take some getting used to, but everyone was, including him. Wild Bill Hickok was no longer dead but in the army according to Teaspoon. Jimmy had no idea who this man was and he did not really care. It just made the lie easier. Kid and Lou were still in Rock Creek as was Rachel. But Jimmy did not think she would remain there for long. Rachel and Sanford Lyons had fallen completely, madly in love. Jimmy was certain they would leave Rock Creek together. Kid was now marshal as Teaspoon had retired. He now spent half his time in Omaha and the rest in Rock Creek. All talk of him going back to fight for Texas had been silenced. Kid too had stopped talking about Virginia. Both men, like the rest of them, had lost too much. Death was something all of them longed to avoid. But much to everyone's surprise, Buck had returned to the Kiowa. Jimmy could only hope he would see his old friend again. When they had first arrived in Omaha, Kyla had been most hesitant to meet Emma. She knew how much Jimmy cared for Emma. Part of Jimmy expected Kyla to push Emma away. He was greatly relieved when she did not. But Emma made that next to impossible. Even though she knew everything about Kyla's past, Emma just by being Emma, had made Kyla feel welcome. Seeing Kyla blossom the way she had in the past few weeks warmed Jimmy's heart. One of Jimmy's greatest joys was watching Kyla become the person she should have always been. She still had a sharp tongue when angered. Jimmy knew right away when Kyla was furious with him. But he also knew when Kyla was pleased as well. Also, the tough veneer was gone for the most part. Kyla not longer tried to push everyone away. She was still reserved around strangers. Yet that reserve dissolved the more she got to know someone. As he hung his gun belt up and tossed aside his hat, he realized that he too was becoming the person he should have been as well. The gun was no longer his first option. It was his last. Jimmy did his level best to think before he acted. He knew now what the alternative was and did not want to experience that ever again. "Kye!' Jimmy yelled, wandering into their bedroom. He stopped when he saw her intently coloring in a family she had up on the easel next to their bed. He padded to the bed and sat down beside her. "You're home," Kyla said, looking up from her work in surprise. Jimmy chuckled. "Yeah," he replied without even the barest hint of sarcasm. He kissed Kyla's head. "So what are you up to?" "Emma introduced me to a friend of hers," Kyla explained, studying the portrait in front of her. She picked up the paintbrush and added a bit more color to the woman's cheeks. "The woman was complaining about how expensive having a miniature made was. Emma told her to have me paint a portrait for half the money instead. I think she was joking," Kyla added softly, "but the woman took her up on it." She shrugged. "So here I am." "It's good," Jimmy told her, giving the picture an admiring glance. "I didn't know you painted." "I never have before," Kyla smiled. Jimmy wrapped his arms around her, taking the brush from her fingers and placing it on the easel. "You are a natural," he murmured, kissing her neck. "You are prejudiced," Kyla laughed before kissing him back. "I didn't make any dinner," she murmured, lying back on the bed. Like he cared now, Jimmy thought. His only thought was separating Kyla from her clothing. Dinner could wait. He was sure they could scare something up. And then they could spend the evening as they had before, discussing boy names. They just could not agree on one. But the girl's name was set, Victoria. Jimmy was certain the baby was a girl. How could it not be? The End Drop me a note and let me know what you thought!