Disclaimer: This story is the copyright of nesciri and are published for others to read. Any abuse or infringement of the author's rights will be goverened by Swedish law. The characters have been borrowed from the TV-drama "The Young Riders" . This has not been done in order to violate the copyright of the authors of that show, however, if an infringement has been done, please notify and this page will be removed. Any drawings are the copyright of nesciri and may not be used without the written permission of .

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

to be continued

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Reading Room

Library

James carried the bucket with water towards the house. It was typical of his father to set him to work as soon as he, James, thought he could get a free moment. His sister didn't have to work though, well, not nearly as hard as he did. In bitter thoughts he continued to drag the heavy bucket, spilling water at every step. The sounds of hooves approaching made him forget everything and he put down the bucket and ran to the house.

"Pa! Pa! Somebody's coming!

His father had already heard and stood on the primitive porch watching towards the hill where now two riders could be seen approaching. As they come closer, the man lowered his rifle a bit, seeing that they weren't Indians, as he first had feared. He still kept the rifle ready, though, until he saw, with relief, the badge on the older man's shirt.

"Good day, Marshall."

"The same to you, Mr...?

"My name's Thomas Craven. My wife and me just bought this place."

"Well, I'm Teaspoon Hunter, the Marshall of Sweetwater, and this here is a friend, James Hickok."

"Pleased to meet you. What brings you out here, Marshall?"

James couldn't believe his ears - 'Wild Bill' Hickok in the flesh! Now he really had a story to tell to Cory when he saw him again. He wished his father would introduce him, since he knew his father would be furious if he opened his mouth without being spoken to. Fidgeting with anticipation, he stood close behind his father, watching every move and every inch of this his story-book hero.

Jimmy felt uncomfortable when he noticed the boy's stare. He had seen that kind of stare before. Ever since that writer, Marcus, had written that novel, he had met people that looked upon him as a hero or just famous. This boy must have read the stories, he sighed, and dismounted. He didn't like being idolised. Cody would have been better at this, he thought. He had a natural flair for fame. I wasn't cut out for this, he mused, as he half expected the boy to approach him, asking a question. Most boys that recognised him did. He was a bit surprised when the boy remained behind his father, wide-eyed and, by the look of it, stunned by his presence. He bent his knees and looked the boy in the face.

"Hi. And who are you, then?"

"You're still here? Your mother is expecting that water inside. Get on with it!"

James' heart fell - Wild Bill Hickok had actually spoken to him but his father had ruined it. Now he wouldn't get a chance to ask Wild Bill all the questions that buzzed in his head. Without a word he grabbed the bucket again, trying not to spill too much water on his way up the porch.

Jimmy looked after him, feeling sorry for the boy. His father could at least let him say hello.

"The kid just wanted to say hi," he said with a smile to the man. The man stared at him.

"I raise my children as I see fit, is that clear?"

"Mr. Craven," Teaspoon interrupted, "the reason I'm here is to warn you that this here land is not safe for you and your family. It's too close to Indian territory, and frankly..."

"No, you listen to me, Marshall. I've paid for this land and no damn Indians are going to chase me away. The broker told me that more of this land would be up for sale shortly, and I've decided to get me a good part of it. I ain't leaving."

"I realise that you have bought it, Mr. Craven, but as Marshall of Sweetwater it is my duty to inform you of the dangers."

"Now that you have done that, why don't you leave me to my work, Marshall?"

"If you only would consider what I have said, sir."

"I've heard you, Marshall."

"All right, then we'll be heading back. Just a final warning though, Mr.Craven. Just beyond those hills over there on the other side of the valley, that's Kiowa land. Try to keep out of it."

"Bye, Marshall."

James watched from the window how the two men departed. "Wild Bill" Hickok had said 'Hi' to him. He wondered how many men he had killed. He didn't really look like the person drawn on the book cover though. He was much younger and he didn't look that mean. That was somewhat of a disappointment to James. A man that had killed so many should be mean-looking.

"James, your father is on his way...". The pleading in his mother's voice was obvious. He jumped down from the window and disappeared through the kitchen door. The Marshall's visit had upset his father, and he knew that he was likely to be blamed for that too. He headed out in the woods again.

"Stubborn bastard." Teaspoon muttered as he and Jimmy left the homestead.

"You think there'll be problem?"

"I don't know. I hope not. Hopefully the Kiowa wont find a single homestead a threat."

"But.."

"One homestead that close." Teaspoon shook his head. "If they suspect that more will come, they may attack it as a warning. I really would like to find out who the hell that broker is that sold them the land to begin with."

"But if the Kiowa attack the homestead, they'll have the army after them."

"Probably. Which means we might have a full-scale war on our hands. Let's just hope that it doesn't come to that, shall we."

"What about the broker?"

"Next time any of you have a ride to Denver, I want you to look up the registry and find out who it is. I'll send a note to the Governor, see if he can do anything."

"I can make an extra run if you like."

"No, we'll send it with the ordinary mail. I don't think there is any hurry."

"A homestead where?" Buck frowned and looked at Cody, who was reaching over the table for the stew. Of course it was Cody who had broken the news to Buck during dinner, in his normally outspoken way. It had been two days since Teaspoon had been out to the homestead, and Buck had just returned from a run.

"Just beyond Jenkins' old farm, among 'em hills there. Are there more stew, Rachel?"

"You've had two helpings already, Cody."

"Lou, you gonna have some more?" The blond rider threw a smile at the girl by his side.

"You can have it", she murmured absent-minded. Kid was out on a ride, and he had been a bit faraway lately and she couldn't help pondering why.

Noah looked up from his meal.

"Is there no end to your appetite, Cody?"

"Nope. Don't think so." Cody grinned at the others. I was born hungry, you know."

"You've said that before, Cody". Lou gave Cody a dirty look.

"And he'll probably say it again," Noah added as he watched in amazement how Cody placed a huge amount of food on his plate.

"What did Teaspoon do about this homestead?" Buck asked, not being distracted by the others.

"What homestead?" Cody said between bites.

"The one you just told me about - beyond Jenkins'." Buck replied impatiently.

"Nothing, I guess. He just went out there to talk to the man."

"What did the man say?"

"I don't know, Buck. Why don't you ask Teaspoon?"

Noah looked carefully at Buck.

"You think there'll be trouble?" he asked quietly.

"Don't know." Buck excused himself and walked out.

"What's wrong with him?" Cody asked and received an angry glance from Noah.

"Why don't you try and figure that out for yourself for once?"

Buck walked up to the barn. He had no real objective in mind, just needed some time to think. A homestead being build that close to the Kiowa wasn't something he wanted to happen. Recently it had been peaceful in the area but the homestead reminded him how fragile the peace was and how easily everything could go wrong. I wonder what Red Bear thinks about the homestead. He was sure that they knew about it. The question was what they might do. He thought that there would be a few in the village that would urge an attack, but he knew his brother wasn't someone that made decisions lightly - if he could hold back the others, maybe there was nothing to be worried about.

Jimmy looked up at the sky. The dark clouds suggested that the rain wasn't far away. He was on his way back from a run to the Harper Ridge Station, and he realised that he would get wet before he returned. He sighed. That was all he needed. First he had been given a horse that had started to limp after a couple of miles and that had delayed him. Now he was going to be soaking wet unless he could outrun this rain. He urged his horse forward.

Almost home, he thought as he crossed the last hills before Sweetwater, and the first drops of rain came. He remembered that Mr. Craven's homestead was around here somewhere, and decided to pay a visit. Maybe he could stay there until the rain passed, and even get a cup of coffee. He change his direction toward the homestead and arrived just as it started to rain heavily. Mr.Craven stood on the porch, rifle in hand, watching him.

"Can you give me some shelter until the rain has passed?" he called out to the man.

"Who are you?"

"James Hickok of the Pony Express."

"You're the fellow that was here with the marshal a couple of days ago."

"Yes, sir."

"All right then. You can place your horse in the barn. Then you might come in and have a cup of coffee."

"Thanks."

Jimmy led the horse into the small barn and then ran over to the house as the rain now was pouring down. As he entered the small cottage he found the family seated by the table. He took off his hat and greeted them.

"Why don't you sit down; I'll get you some coffee." Mrs.Craven looked nervously at him, as she rose and went over to the stove. The boy and the girl were both staring at him, making him feel awkward when he realised that they were staring at his gun. Quickly he removed his gun belt and hung it together with his hat on a hook by the door. A bit embarrassed, he sat down at the table, accepting a cup of coffee from Mrs. Craven.

"Thanks," he said and took a sip as he carefully looked around the cottage. It wasn't more than one room with separated by a large cloth into what he suspected was a primitive bedroom.

"I'm building another room," Mr. Craven said as he noticed the young man's glance. Mr.Craven sat comfortable leaning back in his chair, smoking a pipe. "It takes time though, me being alone."

"I didn't mean to criticise you, Mr. Craven."

"What you're doin' here? Come to give me another warning?"

"I'm on my back from a run, when this weather hit me."

"You may stay until it has past. There's no problem." Mrs. Craven smiled faintly, throwing an eye at her husband, who nodded slowly.

"The missus is right. You'll stay here until it's over."

"Thank you. I'll be off as soon as it begins to clear up. I need to get back to the station."

"Carrying mail, are you?"

"Not this time, Mr. Craven. Just on my way back."

James sat silently by the window, watching how 'Wild Bill' drank coffee in his kitchen. He had a hundred or so questions that he would like to ask, but not having the courage to. Not while his father was sitting there anyway. One day, when he had grown up, he would show his father that he was no wimp. He would be as famous as 'Wild Bill' Hickok at least.

Finally the rain stopped. Jimmy was grateful. He didn't like Mr. Craven. The man was polite enough, but there was just something about him that made him feel uneasy. Maybe it was Mr. Craven's attitude towards the boy. The boy had been staring at him from the moment when he came in, but neither the father or the boy had done anything to introduce them to each other. He could see the boy was aching to talk to him, but as long as his father sat in the room, the boy remained still by the window. It was unnatural, and Jimmy was quick to excusie himself as soon as the rain stopped.

"S'pose you're wanted back at the station, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Jimmy affirmed. The man made no attempt to get up.

"James, help our guest with his horse will you? Good day to you, Mr. Hickok."

"Good day." Jimmy rose and at the same moment James left his seat in the window and quickly went out the door in front of Jimmy. Jimmy nodded his goodbye as he took his gun belt and his hat from the hook and left the cottage.

James stood by the barn door already holding the palomino when he stepped out in the yard. Jimmy smiled at the change in the boy. From being timid and shy the boy now stood there smiling at him.

"Thanks,",he said and prepared to mount up as the first question came.

"Have you killed many men, Mr. Hickok?"

Jimmy looked down at the boy. "Why do you want to know that?"

"'Cause when I grow up I wanna be just like you."

"You'd do better if you stay away from guns, boy. Why don't you take after your father and become a farmer?"

"Farmers don't have any adventures." The boy looked with disappointment at Jimmy.

"I think you'll find that farmers can have plenty of adventures. What does your father says about this idea of you being a gunslinger?"

"I wouldn't tell him," the boy grunted kicking at the pebbles on the yard.

Jimmy looked at the boy and crouched beside him. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.

"Don't worry, kid, you'll do fine as a farmer."

Then he mounted and headed of towards the station.

James looked after him as he left. Did he really think that he, James, would end up as a farmer like his father? James frowned. He would show 'Wild Bill' that he could be a gun fighter. Then 'Wild Bill' would take him seriously. He smiled to himself - he knew where his father hid his gun. Next time his father went into town, he could sneak out and get hold of the gun. Then he could practise shooting in the wood. He'd never held a gun before, and the idea excited him. Next time 'Wild Bill' passed, he would see. And if any Indian would dare entering the wood while he was practising - then "Bam". He raised his hand, imaging it to be a gun and aimed it at the disappearing rider. Next time, he thought.