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Christy Tunstall laid the newspaper aside and sighed. The paper slid from the table where it lay and landed with a small thump on the wooden floor. The article that caused Christy’s sigh landed face up and when she glanced at it, she didn’t even need to read the headline to know what it said. She already had the entire article memorized, although admittedly it was just a couple of paragraphs.
“Notorious Gunfighter Shot to Death in Saloon” read the headline. “Jimmy”, she sighed again. “Legendary Marshall ‘Wild Bill’ James Butler Hickok was shot to death while playing cards in a saloon in the Dakota territories. Apprehended shortly after the shooting was local town worker, Jack McCall, who admitted to shooting Hickok, but declined to give a reason. Hickok, who earned his legendary nickname in….”
Christy stopped reading. She didn’t need to know how “Wild Bill” Hickok had earned his nickname because she had heard the story from the infamous man himself. If fate hadn’t worked in funny ways, she might have been there to witness his death firsthand. It was sad that someone who had once meant everything in the world to her had drifted away until she felt she hardly knew him at all.
Had she ever really known James Butler Hickok? Yes, she thought she had, if only for a brief moment in time. She could still remember the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, the way he would duck his head when he revealed the tender side he tried so hard to hide. That tender side was the part of him Christy had loved best because it would have been so easy for it to have died in him. Jimmy’s reputation caused him much heartache. He had to be careful of everybody because he never knew if someone was a friend or an enemy.
“A man sends someone to kill me, I make it my problem.”, his voice rang in her head.
“Oh, Jimmy”, she thought, “I guess you won’t have anymore problems now.”
Christy sat back down in her wooden rocking chair. Almost without noticing, she began to rock and with each squeak of the rocker, she let her mind slip further and further into the past. A single tear slid down her slightly wrinkled cheek as she thought of a young man with brown eyes and a penchant for trouble and a young girl with then smooth cheeks and a heart aching with love….
For many years Christy Tunstall had felt like a lost soul. As far back as she could remember, she had belonged to no one but herself. Even back in Virginia, during her happier times, she had always understood that she didn’t belong, nor was she really wanted. It was true that her Aunt Martha had loved her, and Christy was as close to her cousins as any brothers and sisters, but Uncle Thomas never let Christy forget that she was a freeloader, completely dependent upon his generosity for her care. Of course, Uncle Thomas’ generosity didn’t reach very far.
Then Christy had met Charles Tunstall and Harry Turner. Finally, she had not one, but two people who needed her and cared for her. Charles Tunstall was a bachelor with no use for a wife. Instead of matrimony, he chose to take in orphans and numerous strays to help him with his various chores. Christy herself had come to stay on the farm four years earlier. Charles Tunstall had found her standing outside a store. She had been looking in a window debating on trying to steal a couple of canned goods that beckoned her from inside. Christy’s money, which hadn’t been much to start with, had dwindled to nothing two days before.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”, said a voice from behind her.
Christy turned and looked at the gentleman with annoyance. “Well, you ain’t me.”
“There could be an easier way, you know.” He insisted.
“Yes, I suppose if I walked in there and asked, someone would just give me something to eat?”, she rolled her eyes sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact, I would.”, the man obviously wasn’t going to give up. “In addition, I would be willing to provide room and board in exchange for your labor.”
Christy started walking away. “No thanks, I ain’t that kind of girl.”
“Am not.” He stated.
She stopped, “What?”
“I am not that kind of girl.”
The man was really beginning to irritate her. “So now you’re giving me lessons in English?”
The man let out a chuckle. “Well, if you need them…. Now, if you will let me explain, I’m not proposing anything improper, I assure you. I run a small farm outside of town and I am a bachelor. I’ve hired several young gentlemen to help me with the manual labor, but I would like to enlist the assistance of a young woman to help with the cooking. My talents with the skillet are, shall we say, limited? In exchange for your help, I will provide a roof over your head and a reasonable wage until you can provide other means for yourself.”
“And how do you know I need anyplace to stay?” She eyed him suspiciously.
The man glanced at her ragged clothing. “My guess is, if you had a place to go, you wouldn’t need to steal from local storekeepers.”
She couldn’t think of anyway to respond, so she kept silent.
The man offered his hand. “Charles Tunstall. Do we have an agreement?”
Christy reluctantly shook his hand. “My name’s Christy. As long as you understand, I’m free to go when I want to, I’m looking for someone, and don’t plan to stick around long.”
“Agreed.” The man led her to his wagon, and Christy’s plan not to stick around long turned into four years. She grew to love the old man in a fatherly way, and when he suggested she take his name and become his daughter, she didn’t fight it much.
Christy had been living under Charles’ care for three years when Harry showed up. “Blackjack” Harry Turner was busy earning his nickname in the town’s only saloon, when two cardsharps by the name of Brooks and Dixon arrived. Within minutes, they sat down to play cards with Harry, accused him of cheating, and were about to shoot him when Charles Tunstall happened by. Charles cleverly managed to divert the attention of the two men and led Harry to safety. Soon after, Harry Turner joined the small family on the farm.
With his curly black hair and laughing brown eyes, Harry instantly captured Christy’s attention. It didn’t take her long to figure out she wasn’t the only one smitten with Harry. All the girls in town giggled and blushed whenever he walked by. Christy quickly gave up. She knew she didn’t have a chance with Harry with so much competition.
For almost a year, life proceeded quietly. Christy and Harry were hesitant with each other at first, but soon enough their shyness gave way, and they became the best of friends. Out for a ride one day, Harry leaned across her horse and planted a swift but firm kiss on Christy’s lips. She was so surprised she didn’t have time to stop him, not that she would have.
“What was that for?”, she asked, her eyes wide.
“Just wanted to see if you’d let me.” Harry’s grin was quick and sure.
“Well, I wouldn’t”, she paused, “if you were to try it again.”
Harry’s grin became wider and he accepted the challenge. Once again he firmly kissed Christy’s mouth, but this time he wasn’t so quick about it. “I reckon you’re a liar, Miss Tunstall.”
Christy could feel herself blushing. Not wanting Harry to see how breathless he had left her, she quickly urged her horse into a gallop. “That’s all right, I can still outride you any day.”
Harry whooped with laughter and chased after her. They raced all the way back to the farm. Christy, who still held the lead, suddenly pulled her horse to a stop. Harry was about to ask her why she had stopped when he noticed the plumes of black smoke rising from the main farmhouse. Christy looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. Without another word, they galloped the remaining distance. In the front yard, Harry jumped down from his horse without bothering to tie him and ran inside. Christy quickly followed.
“Charles!” Harry frantically called, running from room to room.
Christy felt she couldn’t move. She stood inside the door, choking from the thick, black smoke. “Harry! Charles!”
Suddenly, Harry came running past her with Charles slung over his shoulder. “Christy, come help me, he’s hurt!”
Christy dropped to her knees in the grass where Harry had laid Charles. “Is he--?”, she didn’t dare finish her question.
In response to her question, Charles began coughing and struggling to breathe. “Charles?”, she asked weakly.
He grasped her outstretched hand. “My dearest Christy.”
Harry gently touched the old man’s shoulder. “What happened, Charles?”
“The boys went into town…” Charles broke off as he began coughing again. He struggled to speak. “Brooks….Dixon.”
Harry stared. “Brooks and Dixon? You mean them two lying, cheating bandits that accused me of cheating in cards? That was over a year ago….”
Charles managed a weak smile. “ I guess they don’t forgive and forget. They finally figured out you were here and came looking for you. I wouldn’t tell them where you were…” his voice trailed off.
“This is my fault, then. I knew I should have finished ‘em when I had the chance” Harry’s eyes began to tear up.
“Shhh”, Charles said weakly. “It doesn’t matter….”
“Charles?” Christy whispered. “Charles?”
And so on a cold December day, Christy, Harry, and the other band of misfits Charles Tunstall had taken in over the years, stood somberly by as the preacher spoke and Charles’ coffin was lowered into the ground.
“I’m going to look for the bandits that did this to Charles.” Harry stated as he strapped on his gun belt. It was right after the funeral and without the gentle guidance from their father figure the ragged group looked lost. What should they do now?
“Harry, no!” Christy exclaimed. “What good would that do? Charles is dead, and if you go looking for them, you will be, too.”
Harry’s brown eyes flashed. “I won’t let them get away with this! Someone has to avenge Charles’ death, and that someone is me!”
“And what about me?” Christy asked softly. “What about us?”
Harry looked away. “I’m sorry. I’ll come for you when I’m finished.”
Christy heard nothing from Harry for nearly three weeks. She moved into the small bunkhouse, since the fire had heavily damaged the main house. She had been trying to hold Charles’ little farm together, but she was all alone. All the boys who had lived at the farm had drifted off without Charles around. Late one night, she extinguished the lantern and slowly made her way to bed. She heard a knock at the door and stiffened. Who would knock on the door at this time of night? It didn’t take long for word to spread that she was a woman tending a farm alone, so trouble could be expected.
She grabbed Charles’ rifle from its place beside her bed and cautiously tiptoed back to the front door. She tried looking out the small window to the left of the door, but saw nothing but darkness.
“Who’s there?” She called, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“It’s me, open up!” The voice answered.
Christy threw open the door. “Harry?!”
Indeed, there stood Harry Turner, although at first she didn’t recognize him. His clothes were torn and dirty. There was a small cut beneath his eye and his arm was bandaged and in a sling. Mostly what she noticed though was the overpowering smell of alcohol on him. Harry was drunk.
“Harry, what happened?” she asked, quietly.
He didn’t answer; instead he pushed past her into the house.
Christy hesitantly followed him. “Are you hurt bad?”
Harry sank into a chair in the kitchen and rested his head against his hand. Christy leaned the gun in a corner, she wasn’t sure what to say. What had happened? Harry appeared as if he might cry. Just as she thought it, Harry did begin to cry. Big racking sobs shook his body.
“What’s wrong, Harry?” Christy approached him and laid a hand gently on his shoulder.
He slapped her hand away with his good arm and looked at her mournfully.
She stared at him. “You did it, didn’t you? You killed those two men who killed Charles?”
Harry was silent, he just continued to look at her. “Was it worth it?” She asked.
Harry ducked his head, when he spoke, it was in a whisper. “I ain’t never killed nobody before, Christy.”
Christy was silent, waiting for him to go on.
“They deserved to die.” His voice began to crack. “Oh, God…”
“Harry…” Christy tried to approach him again.
“Get away from me!” He cried. “I shouldn’t have come here! I can’t be with you, Christy, find someone else!"
Harry ran past her and out the door. Christy stared out the door into the black night where he disappeared. “Harry!” She cried.
Christy waited three months, but she didn’t hear from Harry again. The little bit of money Charles had saved was rapidly diminishing, and so were her options. She felt smothered in the small bunkhouse, choked with memories of Charles and Harry and happier times. Just when she thought she had found a little bit of happiness, it all came crashing down around her.
Chapter Two
One morning when Christy awoke, the sadness seemed to weigh her down so much it was hard to move. She debated for an hour over what to do, then she began to gather her things together. When she was finished, she went to the barn and saddled her favorite horse, Glory. She rode to the top of a small hill overlooking the farm and turned to look back.
Only a few months ago, Christy had heard word that her cousin was in Rock Creek working for the Pony Express. She tried to write to him, but kept tearing up the letters. It had been five years since she had seen him and she wasn’t sure how to say what she was feeling. Especially after the way they had parted…maybe he wouldn’t even want to see her again. So she put off contacting her cousin until now. Maybe he wouldn’t be happy to see her, but he was all Christy had left. With another sad glance at the farm, Christy turned her horse and headed for the town of Rock Creek.
Christy rode for days, only stopping to let her horse rest. She avoided any people she saw, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that she was a woman travelling alone. She finally stopped about a day’s ride from Rock Creek and made camp. Earlier, she had passed the settlement of Blue Creek but decided against staying in town. She didn’t have the money for a hotel room, and besides, she really wasn’t in the mood for company.
She built a small fire and heated some of the canned beans she had brought with her. She ate without really tasting the food. Tomorrow, with any luck, she would see her cousin. Would he still remember her? Christy was so lost in thought, she never noticed two shadows creeping towards her in the dark.
“Just keep real still, missy, and you won’t get hurt.”
The voice startled Christy out of her thoughts. She briefly thought of running for her horse, but decided against it when she saw the two men both pointing a gun at her. She had brought along Charles’ old rifle, but it was still tied onto the horse, and hardly of any use.
She slowly raised her hands in the air and tried to observe her captors. The younger of the two quickly grabbed the reins to her horse and began to go through her saddlebag. He had long dirty blond hair and a big wad of tobacco in his mouth, which he frequently paused in his scrounging, long enough to spit out a big stream of juice.
The older man continued to point his gun at her while grinning leeringly. “What’s a gal purty as you doing travelling alone, now?”
Christy refused to answer him, figuring anything she said could only make the situation worse.
The men said nothing else as they continued to search her belongings. Soon, the younger seemed to give up in disgust. “Shoot, Jim, she ain’t got nothing.”
Jim looked at her steadily. “Now why would a young thang like you be travelling by yourself?”
The other man looked around nervously, “Maybe it’s because she ain’t alone.”
Jim glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if whoever she’s with is just gone huntin’ for a varmint.”
This thought seemed to make both men nervous and Christy did nothing to sway their opinion. Evidently the men hadn’t been watching her long, or they would know that she was alone.
Jim seemed to be thinking things over. “Maybe we’d better skin out, Joe.”
Joe seemed to readily agree. He swung up onto his saddle, looking down at Christy. “What we gonna do with her?”
Without giving Joe an answer, Jim walked his horse over to Christy’s side, and using the butt of his gun, whacked her solidly in the head. She fell to the ground in a heap. “Get her horse.”, Jim said.
The two riders galloped off.
Jimmy Hickok had thought making the trip to Blue Creek with Cody would be a good little excursion. Two days with no corral repair to be done, no chopping wood for Rachel, and a little peace and quiet. Or so he thought. True enough, little work was required of him; all the two riders had to do was deliver an important letter concerning a gold shipment to the mayor of Blue Creek. The letter was the easy part; listening to Billy Cody’s mouth throughout the entire trip was another story entirely. Jimmy’s head ached because of Cody’s endless rambling.
“Jimmy? Jimmy, are you listenin’ to me?”
“Cody, how can I help but listen to you? You’ve got the loudest mouth in the dern territory.” Jimmy snapped.
“Well, I got lots to say, and I don’t want you to miss any of it.” Billy grinned. “I figure I’m the best shot at an education you got, Hickok.”
Jimmy cut his eyes at his best friend. “If you’re the only shot at an education I got, I’ll take my chances without it.”
The sparring was nothing unusual between the two riders. From the first day they met, James Butler Hickok and William F. Cody competed at everything, from shooting skills to women; nothing was too small or large to argue over. Cody’s laid-back, easygoing ways irritated Jimmy no end because Jimmy was as impatient and hot-tempered as his friend was relaxed. They were as different in looks as personalities. Cody was blonde headed and blue-eyed, while Jimmy had long dark hair and brown eyes. Jimmy and Cody believed that opposites attracted for nothing else could explain their friendship.
After two days of listening to Cody however, Jimmy was about to forget about friendship. His ears seemed to ring with Cody’s voice. “Cody, can’t you shut up a minute? A body can’t think with all that talking.”
Cody, who had actually been quiet for a moment, looked hurt. “What’s eatin’ you?”
Jimmy was silent. He figured anything he said would only add fuel to Cody’s fire. He scanned the horizon, ever watchful. Although the ride to Blue Creek was normally a peaceful one, Jimmy knew it didn’t pay to get too comfortable. “Watch your back”, was probably one of Teaspoon’s favorite sayings to his group of young riders.
Jimmy and Cody, along with Kid, Ike, Buck, Lou, and Noah all worked for the Pony Express. They lived together in a small bunkhouse in Rock Creek under the supervision of Marshall Teaspoon Hunter. While probably not ever known for his cleanliness, Teaspoon was looked up to by all the riders. Whenever some fatherly advice was needed, Teaspoon was glad to help out. Even if his advice weren’t wanted, he would usually put in his two cents worth. If it was womanly advice the riders seeked, they sought out Rachel Dunne, the stationmistress and cook.
Jimmy continued to observe his surroundings, mostly ignoring Cody’s continuous chatter. Wait, what was that? Jimmy almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. In the distance he could just make out something white against the ground.
“Cody, do you see that?” Jimmy cut his friend off midstream.
Cody squinted his blues eyes in the direction Jimmy pointed. He, too, could barely discern a white shape in the distance. “What do you think it is?”
Jimmy shook his head, he wasn’t sure, but he had a bad feeling.
Cautiously the two riders began to approach. As they got closer, they could clearly see the shape was a person, a girl in fact, lying on the ground.
Cody slowed his horse to a stop. “Psst, Jimmy.” He whispered.
Irritated, Jimmy stopped to look back at his friend. “What?”
“What if it’s a trap” He motioned with his head toward the still figure.
Jimmy knew what Cody meant. The girl could be a decoy, faking an injury, while someone else hid in the trees, waiting for a chance to attack an unsuspecting helpful stranger. Without speaking, both men drew their guns and began to approach again. Jimmy reached the girl first. He climbed down from his horse and squatted beside her. He gently shook her shoulder as Cody stood watch. The girl made no response so Jimmy eased her carefully onto her back.
The first thing he noticed was the large gash at her forehead. The blood had dried into her hairline, staining her blonde locks darker. There was also a small cut on her lip that caused it to swell. The next thing he saw was despite her disheveled appearance, the girl was quite pretty.
Her hair was a dark blonde; long strands of it escaped the bun secured in the back. Her skin was fair and sprinkled with freckles. She looked to be in her early twenties. Jimmy noted that she was wearing men’s clothing and had no wedding band.
“Is she alive?” Cody interrupted Jimmy’s appraisal of the young lady.
Jimmy removed his glove to feel for a pulse. “Yeah, she’s breathing.”
Cody bents down to examine the girl closer. “Reckon what she’s doing out here all alone?”
“I don’t know, but one thing’s for sure, whoever left her out here may come back, and judgin’ from the looks of her, I don’t think they’re too friendly.” Jimmy began to gather the girl into his arms.
“What are you going to do with her?” Cody asked.
Jimmy grunted as he hoisted her weight over his saddle. “I’m takin’ her to Teaspoon, he’ll know what to do.”
Jimmy and Cody climbed onto their saddles and galloped home toward Rock Creek.
The first thing Christy Tunstall became aware of as she gradually regained consciousness was that the ground had gotten a lot softer. Ever since she left the farm, she’d had a horrible time trying to sleep on the rocky ground. Now it felt as if she were laying on a feather bed, she was so comfortable. Christy figured she must have been dreaming she felt so warm and cozy. She struggled to stay asleep, not wanting the feeling to end. Despite her efforts, she felt herself drift towards waking. She reluctantly opened her eyes and quickly decided maybe she wasn’t awake after all.
She was lying in a large wrought iron bed, beneath a heavy quilt. Sunlight streamed through the windows and splashed patches across the quilt. She struggled to sit up and that’s when she noticed she wasn’t alone. A pretty blonde headed woman rose from the rocking chair in the corner of the room, where she had been quietly knitting.
The woman came closer and laid her cool hand against Christy’s forehead. The woman looked to be in her early forties, but the years hadn’t taken away any of her prettiness. Her wide blue eyes were concerned as she glanced over her patient. “Well, I see you’re finally awake. You’ve had us pretty worried.”
Christy looked around for something familiar. If only she didn’t feel so tired, maybe she could figure out what happened to her. "Where am I?”
The woman smiled. “I’m Rachel, and you’re in Rock Creek. Do you remember how you got here?”
Christy lay back against the pillows. It took all her strength to hold her eyes open. “Rock Creek?” She asked drowsily.
Rachel leaned closer to hear the girl’s faint words. “Yes, you’re at the Pony Express station in Rock Creek.”
Christy fought to speak. She had to find out, before the sleep took her. “Kid…I’m looking for Kid…”
“Kid?” Rachel’s eyes widened. “You know Kid?”
The woman knew Kid; he must be here, then. Christy allowed herself to relax and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
After leaving the girl under the watchful eye of Ike, Rachel hurried to the stables to find Teaspoon. She found him in the process of reshoeing Daisy, who was by far the riders’ least favorite horse because of her nasty disposition. Rachel wasn’t sure which one was more aggravated, Teaspoon or the horse.
“You’re gonna do this whether you like it or not, you damned, ungrateful-“
“Teaspoon!” Rachel interrupted.
“Oh, Rachel,” Teaspoon continued unabashedly. “What can I do for you?”
Normally Rachel would have smiled at Teaspoon’s devilish behavior, but right now she had other things on her mind. “Teaspoon, I need to talk to you.”
He swaggered over to her, smoothing his long white hair down with his hands. “Well, sure, what seems to be the problem?”
“It’s about the girl Jimmy and Cody found.” Rachel began.
Teaspoon lost his teasing grin. “Is she alright?”
“Yes, at least I think she will be. She woke up earlier.” A worried frown creased Rachel’s brow. “I think she may know Kid.”
“Kid?” Teaspoon asked incredulously. “What makes you think a thing like that?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but when she woke up, she asked me where she was. When I told her she was in Rock Creek, she asked if I knew the Kid, then she passed out.” She finished.
Teaspoon scratched behind his ear. “Well, did she say who she was?”
Rachel shook her head. “No, nothing except what I told you. How on earth would she know Kid?”
“Can’t say that I know. Maybe she’s an old friend?” he volunteered.
“Maybe” Rachel allowed, “But where has she been all this time?”
“Well, I guess there’s one way to get to the bottom of this situation, let’s ask Kid.”
“No, good.” She sighed. “He traded with Buck and is out on a run. He won’t be back for a couple of days.”
Teaspoon thought for a minute. “Then I guess we wait for our mystery lady to wake up.”
During supper, the focus of the conversation was on the station’s newest visitor. Everyone wondered who she was, and most of all, how did she know Kid?
“Hell, who’s to say who she is?” Cody said between large bites of mashed potatoes. “Closed mouthed as Kid is, he’s probably got lots of folks lookin’ for him we don’t know about.”
“Whoever she is, I hope she knows Kid’s real name.” Noah Dixon joked. He was the station’s only black rider, and although he was proud of his heritage, he had come to consider the mostly white express station group as his family.
“Maybe she can tell us where he got that nickname, too.” Buck Cross, the half Kiowa Indian, said hopefully.
Ike McSwene, who was bald and mute because of a severe case of scarlet fever when he was young, signed in the Indian symbols Buck had taught him: “We may not want to know!”
It was true that although the entire group was close, Kid’s past remained a mystery. He never said much about his family or his days spent growing up in Virginia. No one had even known he had a brother named Jed until he showed up in town one day.
Of all the riders, only Lou was silent. Louise McCloud was the only female Pony Express rider. She had gotten the job by disguising herself as a man, and by the time Teaspoon and the others figured out she was a girl, she had already proven herself as worthy as any of the men. Everyone kept her secret to secure her job with Russell, Majors, and Waddell. Kid was the first person who had discovered Lou’s little act of deception. A group of robbers had shot her and Kid found her. While he was trying to examine her wound, he lifted her shirt and discovered this was no ordinary boy. Lou and Kid grew closer because of the secret between them and gradually that closeness had turned to love. Now there was a mysterious stranger at the waystation who knew Kid. Kid had never mentioned an old girlfriend to Lou; but then again, he had never mentioned Jed, either.
“What did the doc say, Rachel?” Teaspoon asked as he pushed back from the table and patted his round belly. Doc Barnes had made a trip to the station earlier that day to examine the young woman.
“Not much.” Rachel admitted. “She’s got a nasty bump on her head and some cuts and bruises. He seems to think she’ll be alright with enough rest.”
“Well, I guess Kid will be back tomorrow, maybe he can explain everything. I better get to work.” Teaspoon stood and refastened his gunbelt. He was the Marshall of Rock Creek and took his job very seriously.
The other riders started to pile outside the bunkhouse to enjoy the cool night air a bit before bed. Rachel caught Jimmy by the arm as he went by.
“Hold up a minute, Jimmy. I need you to do me a favor.” She said.
“Sure, Rachel,” Jimmy said agreeably. “What is it?”
“Take our guest this soup and feed it to her while I gather up the dishes.” Rachel shoved a bowl and spoon at him.
“Feed her?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, Jimmy.” Rachel sighed impatiently. “We can’t let her starve to death, waiting on her to wake up. Go on, now. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Jimmy obediently took the soup and went to the house. He crept up the stairs and cautiously opened the door to the guest bedroom. The girl was still sleeping peacefully. He eased slowly towards the bed and sat the soup down on the bedside table. Pulling a chair up to sit in, he labored to spoon the soup down the girl’s mouth without spilling it. Jimmy remembered the last time he had tried this. Ike had been shot and had fallen off his horse, landing on his head, and had been unconscious for several days. Jimmy had been glad when Ike awoke and could feed himself, as it required more patience than Jimmy possessed.
Rachel had cleaned the girl up and dressed her in a nightgown. Jimmy noticed she was even prettier than he had originally thought. The cut on her lip was beginning to heal and if not for the ugly purple bruise near her hairline, she would have looked like she was merely resting.
Jimmy sat the bowl down causing the spoon to clang against the side. The girl stirred slightly and Jimmy watched as her eyes slowly opened. For a minute her gaze was unfocused but she soon saw him and gasped.
“Who are you?” She cried weakly. “Where am I?”
Jimmy tried in vain to calm her down. “It’s alright, miss. You’re at the Pony Express waystation in Rock Creek.”
“Rock Creek?”
Just then Rachel opened the door and noticed the girl’s frantic state. She hurried to the bed and took the girl’s hand. “You’re just fine. Do you remember me?”
The girl shook her head. “N-No.”
Rachel smoothed the girl’s hair. “I’m Rachel and this is Jimmy. You were hurt and Jimmy and Cody found you.”
Christy tried to remember. She had been hurt? The last thing she remembered was setting out to look for Kid.
“Do you know your name?” Rachel asked.
“Christy?” She was trying hard to think. Everything was so confusing.
“Well, that’s a start.” Rachel smiled. “Do you remember what happened to you?”
Christy was quiet for a minute. “Not really.”
She noticed the young man watching her. He had been silent since Rachel came in, but his gaze never left her. He was tall and lean, with long chestnut hair and brown eyes. Something about him reminded her of Harry, although she wasn’t sure what. The two men didn’t really look alike, but both of them possessed a certain haunted look, as if they had seen too much hardness in their lives.
Christy brought her attention back to the woman with difficulty. “I’m in Rock Creek?”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, at the Pony Express waystation.”
Christy clasped the other woman’s hand tightly. “Is Kid here? Do you know Kid?”
“Yes, Kid works here.” Rachel glanced at Jimmy “How do you know him?”
The girl fell back onto the pillows and for a moment Rachel thought she wasn’t going to answer her. She sighed deeply and tears began to fill her eyes. “I’ve looked for him so long, I can hardly believe I’ve finally found him. He’s the only family I got left.”
“You related to the Kid or something?” Jimmy spoke up.
“Kid’s my cousin.” Christy said softly as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Is he here? Can I see him?”
Rachel smiled and shook her head. “He’s out on a ride right now, but he should be back late tomorrow evening.”
“He’s sure gonna be surprised to find you here.” Jimmy chuckled.
“Oh, don’t tell him!” Christy begged. “Let me surprise him. I wonder if he’ll even know who I am.”
“He’ll remember.” Jimmy said. “The Kid don’t forget nothin’.”
Rachel and Jimmy soon left Christy alone with her thoughts. To be this close to Kid and not be able to see him was torture. So much time had passed and so much heartache had caused them to separate, it was hard to know how he would react to seeing her. Christy fell into an uneasy sleep, waiting for morning to come.
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