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Part 9 Teaspoon shut the door behind Lou and Jimmy and placed himself on the desk, eyeing the two riders. "What have you been up to?" he asked sternly. "Lou's got nothing to do with this, Teaspoon," Jimmy begun only to receive a shove from Lou. "I make that decision," she mumbled to him. "I'm not interested in hearing who did what," Teaspoon grumbled. "I wanna know how you two showed up with Craven. I ain't sure if you know what you're doing, but you accompanying him sure as hell made it look as if you supported him." "It wasn't our intention, Teaspoon," Lou started. "I promised I would see the boy," Jimmy continued. "When Craven said he was going into to time, we didn't think there would be any problem with us following…" "The trouble with you Jimmy is that you never do," Teaspoon interrupted harshly. "How could we have known that Craven would tell the crowd that we'd been at his place?" "You could have avoided going out there in the first place." "Dammit, Teaspoon, I made a promise!" Jimmy raised his voice. "And by keeping it, you've just made the whole town think that Buck's guilty of something!" "It wasn't Jimmy's fault, Teaspoon!" Lou defended her friend. "If Craven hadn't start to ask all those questions, nobody would have said anything." "And you felt you had to answer'em, he?" "What would you have me do? Just turn around and leave?" "Why the hell did you have to say that you believed the boy and that you didn't see any signs of Indians at the homestead?" "'Cause I do believe, and I didn't see any signs! I can't see what this gotta do with Buck anyway," Jimmy muttered angrily. Teaspoon calmed down somewhat and looked at Jimmy. "The more people that think that Craven is right, the more will listen to him, and believe him. If Craven continue to argue for this matter to go to court, he will argue that since not even Buck's friends believe he's right, then he must be guilty. Do you understand that?" Jimmy looked down at the floor. "So, Craven might use us against Buck, is that what you're saying?" Jimmy raised his head after a few seconds of silence. "How can he do that?" Lou wanted to know. "We haven't said that we believe that Buck was there trying to steal horses." "That ain't what he's after," Teaspoon sighed. "Then what?" "Ain't sure yet, but I have a nasty feeling that something bad is about to happen, and I don't like it. Knowing that the army's on its way, it may end in a disaster." Craven looked at the two riders as they disappeared into the sheriff's office. He didn't give much for those Pony Express Riders and their boss. How that man could have achieved the star of a marshal was beyond his imagination. The man looked more like a thief than a man of the law. And the way he run the Express station, without no discipline and employing half-breeds and gun-fighters and boys like the puny one that had been with Hickok out to his home earlier. Barely left his mother's arms, Craven thought. An Express station should be run with the efficiency of a good army unit. Hell, the express delivered mail for the army. To let a half-breed be responsible for such documents was a crime in itself. He frowned. What was the world coming to? He was deep in thoughts as he proceeded down the street. The crowd outside the marshal's office had scattered soon after his arrival and he looked up when he realised that he had reached the general store. He tied his one horse, the only one he had left, to the rail and walked in. Thomson was finishing the order for one of his customer, but nodded a greeting at Craven as he walked in. Craven had heard some of Thompson's background from Ambrose Emery and realised that he might have an ally in the storekeeper. It was important to get Thompson on his side, since his word would carry some weight in the town's council. Besides, he would need someone to speak for him when the army arrived. Although he still considered himself an army man, he knew that the army had no higher regard for him. He still felt that he had done the right thing, and he knew that he had had support among some of the higher officer's, but unfortunately there had been a general feeling that the Indian issues would be kept on a low profile until the issues with the South had been settled. Which was a mistake in Craven's eyes. If the conflict with the South escalated, which he was sure it would, the Indians might take the chance of attacking the forces from behind. It was better to wipe the Indians out before anything else escalated. The idea of forming reservations was idiotic. Anyone who knew those savages would realise that they wouldn't stay in reservations. They were savages and the only way to deal with them was to kill'em. This was the firm belief Craven had, and he had no idea of changing it. "Morning, Mr. Craven. What can I do for you?" Thompkins looked at Craven. "I need some flour for the missus," Craven said friendly, "and a few more things." He picked up a list that he handed over to Thompkins, who nodded at him with a friendly smile. Craven had hoped he would appreciate the list, since it was a large order. To add to Thompkins' friendliness, Craven added: "I'll pay cash, of course." The sentence created a big smile on Thompkins face. "Why, I do appreciate that, Mr. Craven." "Been a businessman myself," Craven said lightly. "I can understand the hardship of allowing credit." Thompkins nodded affirmingly. "Well, I wouldn't say that it's a big problem in this town, though. Most people try and pay their bills in time. And in these times, one have to be a it generous. But it's always with paying customers." Thompkins grazed through the list. He frowned when he read the last lines. "That's an awful lot of ammo, Craven," he said with a hint of suspicion in his voice. Craven nodded seriously. "Got to defend my family against those savages." As Tompkins started to place items on the counter he eyed Craven curiously. Finally the man's curiosity took over and he asked casually. "What happened over at your place by the way?" "What do you mean?" Craven asked innocently, knowing very well to what Tompkins where referring. "I heard that you caught one of the boys from the station stealing? I don't know, but I have a hard time believing that they would try and steal your horses. The Express provides them with horses, and I can hardly imagine that they would need any more?" "Not for personal use, no," Craven admitted. "But if the horses would be for someone else, then perhaps---". He left the sentence unfinished. Tompkins frowned at him. "Now, Mr. Craven. I know these boys and they're good boys. A bit reckless maybe, but they wouldn't steal horses. Besides if the boy was guilty, surely Teaspoon would see to it that he ended up in jail." "I can only say what I saw. The boy was sneaking around my property, and the only things worth stealing were our horses. And I ain't so sure that Teaspoon would put any of "his" boys in jail." The last sentence was filled with contempt. "You're being unfair", Thompkins objected. "I must admit that I wasn't sure 'bout Hunter as marshal, but the man's done a good job. And Mrs. Shannon -- eh, Cain, sure did her best with those boys. You should have met them when they first arrived, hell, they even wrecked my store once." "Maybe they haven't change so much. I wouldn't trust a half-breed even if he'd been raised in a palace." "It was Cross that you caught?" Thompkins raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Sure thing. Probably was after the horses his Injun friends couldn't get hold on, thanks to my boy. You look surprised?" "Honestly, I thought the boy wasn't any trouble." The words uttered would have surprised any one of the riders had they been present, but now the only reaction was Craven's faint smile as he shook his head. "I've mistaken myself on you, Thompkins. Thought you'd be smarter than the rest - of course he would keep a low profile. God knows what he's really been doin' while you've considered him as harmless." Buck woke up feeling feverish and weak. The pain in his back reminded him of what had happened and as he tried to move the pain increased and with a moan he sank back into bed. At the sound, somebody rose from the porch outside and opened the door. Noah walked over to where Buck was lying. "How you're feeling?" he asked with concern. "I can't remember falling asleep," Buck said slowly, trying to figure out what time it was. "You dozed off about an hour after the Doc had left. Guess Sally's salve helped some." "Sally's salve?" Buck asked weakly. "Sally gave me some salve that she swore would help heal wounds from a whip - Rachel used it this morning." "What time is it?" "Around seven I'd say." "In the afternoon?" "Yep." Buck tried to figure out how long he'd been out, but somehow his minds kept swirling and soon he gave up. "What happened?" he asked, concerned that his acting might have caused more trouble for the Indians living nearby. "You mean since Craven brought you to town?" Buck nodded. "He wanted to have you charged with horse stealing, but Teaspoon asked him for proof, claiming that he wouldn't act without it. Of course there were no proof, so Teaspoon brought you back here." "The townspeople?" Noah sighed softly wondering how much he should tell Buck. "Craven got'em a bit upset, that's all. Teaspoon was able to calm them down." "What 'bout the others?" "They're fine - nobody's been messing with them over this," Noah replied, knowing what Buck was asking for. He knew that the last Buck wanted was to put his friends in trouble. Buck sighed in relief. If anybody was to blame it was him - he should have known better than to let himself be caught at Craven's place. He could only hope that his foolishness didn't make matters worse. "How's your back?" Noah asked again. "Not too bad." Buck hesitated. "Did Doc say anything about - you know - scars?" "You're lucky," Noah smiled broadly. "Won't leave a mark on you, well, a few maybe, but nothing you couldn't have got if you'd been dragged by a horse through a field of prickly pears." "That's some comparison," Buck muttered as he couldn't help smile at the thought. "But an accurate one - that's about how I feel." "Then how do you feel?" Noah asked, stressing the word you as he gently wiped the sweat beds from Buck's brow with the cloth that Rachel had left by Buck's bunk. "What do you mean?" "I've seen people that been whipped - nobody walks away from that without scars here" - Noah pointed to his heart - "and sometimes here." He placed his hand on his head. "How about you?" Buck closed his eyes, reluctant to speak about how he felt. If being beaten without any means of defending yourself wasn't bad enough, it had also been a humiliated experience in other aspects. And the men's taunting and use of words had added to it. Noah was right - the whipping had left him with doubts and feelings of hate and anger. But he wasn't ready to discuss them - not just yet. "I'm gonna be fine," he said simply and opened his eyes to look at Noah. Noah looked doubtfully back at him, but realised that Buck wasn't gonna tell him anything. He rose and headed for the door. "You need to rest and I better get back to my chores - Cody left quite a few to be done. No wonder he was quick in taking your ride this afternoon," he said lightly, before turning serious. "When you're ready to talk about it, I'm ready to listen. I've never been whipped myself, but I've known people that have. My father was one." Before Buck could reply, Noah walked out and closed the door behind him. Although he bore a whip himself, he would never lower himself to the level where he would whip another person. To use it as a weapon in defence was one thing, to use it as a mean to suppress and humiliate other was completely different. Deep in thoughts he walked over to the stable only to almost knock Rachel over as she returned from the washing. "Hey, you better watch where you're going," she complained as she rubbed her elbow. "Sorry, Rachel, I wasn't paying attention," Noah said apologising. "You sure weren't," Rachel muttered. "What's on your mind that seem so important?" "Nothing, oh well, I was thinking about Buck." "Buck? Is he worse?" Rachel asked with concern. Noah shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just that---" Noah hesitated for a few seconds. "Well, my father was whipped once and when he returned he was changed - not at all the same man. It took him a long time to get over it and before he could talk about it. I'd hate to see Buck go through that too." Rachel looked out over the plains, thinking about what Noah had told her before she turned to him "How did he take it? Your father I mean?" "Hard." Noah said, still feeling the anger of frustrations of the boy not being able to reach out to his father and help. "He wowed that nothing like that would never happen to happen to me. I think that is one of the reason he fought so hard when they came to the house." "What happened?" Rachel was feeling as if she was in intruding on Noah's life, but she had never heard him speak so openly about his past before, and if he was willing to speak she was willing to listen. "They accused him of some smaller theft - can't remember what - and then they dragged him out on the street and whipped him. He couldn't stand when they were finished. Sally and me had to carry him home. He went back to town the next day, just to show he couldn't be beaten, I guess. When he came back, he was different. It was hard to say in which way, and I was only a small child, but yet--- it was as if he was holding back, you know --- fear of showing his feelings, even towards me." Noah stopped and looked sheepishly at Rachel. "I probably doesn't make any sense at all right," said he with a faint smile. Rachel patted him gently on the arm. "You make perfect sense, Noah. And don't worry about Buck. He'll be OK, I'm sure of it." "I hope so. I better get those chores done." Noah walked into the barn. Rachel looked after him and sighed.
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