The Courtship of James Hunter McCloud, Chapter 4

Jamie could have stood there losing himself in her eyes forever.  But someone pushed at his shoulder and someone else cleared their throat warningly, bringing him back to the present.

“Um, we should probably go somewhere,” he heard Julia say softly, beginning to tug at his arm and pull him away from the front of the crowd at the church steps.

“Where do you want to go?” he finally found his voice to ask.

Julia looked around, noting the whispered comments and all the eyes glued to their every move. 

“Away from here,” she said.  “Somewhere a little more…. private?”  The suggestion ended with a questioning note.

Jamie nodded.

“Do you mind riding behind me on Katelyn?” he asked, nodding toward where his paint was hitched outside the General Store.

“Have I ever minded ridin’ double with you, Jamie McCloud?” Julia asked smartly, raising one brow in imperious question, before beginning the short walk through the crowd toward the horse.  Looking back, she noticed Jamie’s face had turned an interesting shade of red that rivaled her Ma’s rhubarb patch.  “What?!?”

“Nothin’,” Jamie mumbled, looking away from her as he took the gaily decorated dinner basket and tied it to the back of the saddle.  Mounting nimbly, he reached down a hand to Julia and quickly pulled her up onto the saddle in front of him.

**********

“Where are we goin’?” Julia asked after they’d ridden a good fifteen minutes out of town.  She didn’t notice that she’d lost her college class induced enunciation and begun dropping the endings of her words like she had while growing up.  She hadn’t noticed, but Jamie had.  He liked it.  It made her seem so much more…. approachable.

But right now, her accent was the furthest thing from his mind.  He was too busy wishing he’d chosen some place a little closer to town.  There’d been a time when he’d ridden double with Julia without a second thought, both in the saddle in front of him and on the back of the saddle, behind the cantle.  But he’d discovered, to his intense discomfort, that things were different as an adult.  Every shift of the horse beneath him increased his awareness of how certain portions of their anatomies rubbed along together rather well.  He’d like to explore that a bit more, but knew it was definitely out of… well, not reach, but certainly out of the question.

He breathed an intense sigh of relief when he saw a familiar stand of trees just over the next hillock.

“There,” he managed to say without sounding too breathless.

So distracted was he by his own physical reactions to their proximity, he never noticed the shiver his single word sent throughout her entire body as he breathed it right next to her ear.  Or the way she seemed to melt into him as his chin rubbed across her cheek when he spoke.  He completely missed the slight hitch in her breath.

“The… the ol’ swimmin’ hole?”

“Yep,” he muttered, taking the risk of urging Katelyn to a faster trot, hopping to end his torture sooner, then almost groaning in frustration as the added motion only made things worse.

“Why?” Julia nearly gasped, as his the movement of his arm wrapped around her, guiding the horse, almost stole her breath away with the tingling it induced.

Pulling the Katelyn to a stop at the edge of the copse of trees, Jamie dismounted in an almost indecent hurry.  He paused a moment, leaning his forehead against the sun-warmed hide of his mount to capture his breath and get his thoughts back in some sort of working order.

“Um, dunno,” he finally said, straightening to his full height and beginning to lead Katelyn at a walk into the shade around the pond.  “Guess it just seemed like the right place to go.”

“It always was yer favorite,” Julia murmured.  “Though I wouldn’t’ve expected ya ta pick it in the middle of winter like this.”

Jamie just shrugged as he tied Katelyn safely to a low hanging branch, leaving just enough slack in the lead lines that she could safely graze without wandering off.  Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, he turned and held out his arms to Julia.  She wordlessly slid off the side of the horse and into his grasp, landing with her feet practically on top of him.  Just as she touched the ground, Katelyn shifted to the side, already seeking out a tastier bit of greenery, and pushed Julia forward so she was plastered against Jamie from shoulder to knee.

The two stood there, frozen in shock, for a long moment, simply trying to absorb the intense feelings suddenly flying through their brains and bodies, struggling to recapture the ability to simply breath that appeared to have run off with the sense of speech.  But something, an eagle’s cry, a wolf’s distant yipping, Katelyn’s snorting, broke through the fog in Jamie’s brain and he abruptly jumped back a few inches, even as he reached out to steady Julia so she could stand on her own two feet.

“Um, you take the basket,” he mumbled, untying it and handing it to her. “I’ll, uh, set out the blanket.”

Refusing to meet her gaze, he untied the bedroll he always carried tied behind his saddle.  It was a handy habit his mother had taught him years ago.  No matter your plans, no matter expectations, you never knew when you might have to make camp somewhere out on the plains.  Best to always have a bedroll handy.  Just in case.

By the time he came over to join Julia under the shelter of a wide oak tree near the edge of the pond, Jamie was feeling almost normal again.  He carefully spread out the oilcloth from the bedroll and Julia began to set out the food from her basket.

He watched in growing amazement as dish after dish was his favorite.  There was a platter of still warm fried chicken, obviously made just that morning.  It was accompanied by succotash, light as air drop biscuits, with plenty of butter and raspberry jam to slather on top.  And for dessert, there was Julia’s world famous rhubarb pie.

“Where.. where’d you get fresh rhubarb this time of year?” he asked, flabbergasted.

Julia shrugged.  “We made the pie filling last summer, when I was home on break, then canned it.  Not exactly fresh, but taste is pretty much the same.”  She paused then pulled out one more covered dish.  “And there’s fresh, whipped cream to go with it.”

Jamie practically sank to his knees in reverence.  Not only was this about the most mouth watering meal he’d smelled in ages, but it was all his favorites.  Almost as if… No.  His mind stuttered to a stop.  No.  It couldn’t be.  Or had she?  Had she really made all this hoping he’d still buy her basket, even after he’d been so rude to her?  Raising his eyes, he looked in her direction, hoping to find the answer in her face.  But she kept her head down, looking at the plate in her hands as she began dishing out the food.  He shook his head roughly, as if to throw out the pesky thought that had no place inside much as one might shoo away an annoying fly.

Soon, he was fork deep in a plate of heaven.  He chewed as slowly as he possibly could, trying to make each bite last as long as possible.  Neither said much at first.  Then they both reached for the dish of succotash at the same time, their fingers tangling up in each other and spilling the corn dish out onto the nearby grass.

“Oh,” Jamie mourned.  “I’m sorry.”

“I bet you are,” Julia laughed, reaching over to pick up the now empty dish and set it back in the basket.  “You remember the time you ate Ma’s entire platter of succotash?  You were sick for a week after that.  I didn’t think you’d ever want to eat it again.  But there you were, the very next Sunday, begging for an extra large helpin’.”

Jamie laughed in remembered embarrassment.  “Yeah.  But yer Ma makes the second best succotash in the state.”

“Only the second best?” Julia asked, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“Gotta say,” he suddenly muttered, not meeting her eyes as he gulped down the last bite of the scraps of succotash remaining on his plate, “you’ve done her one better.”

Julia blushed at the compliment.  Noticing the rapidly emptying state of his plate, she reached back into the basket and began to dig around.

“Whatcha lookin’ fer?” he asked as she continued to dig and dig but didn’t come up with anything.

“The knife,” she muttered.  “Ta cut the pie with.  I know I put one in here this mornin’.”

“Here,” he said, digging a small handheld folded knife out of his pocket and holding it out to her.  “Use this.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, reaching out to take the knife, being careful to only touch the handle away from his fingers, determined to keep her wits about her.  “Why don’t you get out the whipped cream while I cut this?”

“Alright,” he agreed, reaching into the basket between them to fish out the glass jar filled with the stiffly whipped cream, lightly sweetened with a touch of sugar and, if he didn’t miss his guess, flavored with a hint of vanilla.  Just the way he liked it.

Pulling the lid off, he held the jar up to his nose to inhale deeply, searching out that vanilla scent that would tell him the whipped cream was perfect.  He jerked at the sudden peals of laughter coming from the young woman on the other side of the blanket.  Looking up he met her amused eyes. 

“What?”

“You…. your….” she gasped, holding her sides tightly from laughing so hard.  “Your nose,” she finally got out.

“What’s wrong with my nose?” he asked, bewildered, crossing his eyes trying to see down the tip of said proboscis.  This only sent her into further paroxysms, laughing so hard tears began to slip from the corners of her eyes.  “What!?!”

Unable to speak, she finally leaned forward and swiped one finger down his nose.  Pulling back, she showed him the glob of whipped cream she’d cleared away with that swipe.

“Oh?  You think that’s funny, do you?” he asked in a suddenly menacing tone, a glint of mischief gleaming in his deep blue eyes.  “Then I bet you’ll find this hilarious!”

With no more warning, he dipped one finger into the jar of whipped cream, coming out with a large dollop which he promptly flicked straight at Julia’s face.  It landed with a satisfying fwhomping sound on her cheek and began to slide toward her chin.

“Oooooh,” she practically growled, reaching up to wipe the sticky, sweet treat off her face with a handkerchief.  “I’ll get you for that!”  Scrambling to her feet, she reached for the nearest handy weapon she could find, the pile of biscuits only partially decimated by Jamie’s earlier hunger.  Now they served handily as missiles in the war that had broken out between them.

And as easily as that, they slipped back into the carefree relationship of their childhood, chasing each other in mock anger, laughing at the silliest of things, swinging drastically from best of friends to worst of enemies and back within mere moments.  Neither noticed the passage of time or the mess they were making.  They were having too much fun to worry about inconsequential, adult concerns like that.

“Thought I might find you two out here.”

The sudden intrusion of Harry’s voice stopped them in mid-chase.  Both turned to look toward Julia’s brother, seated on his horse, one arm resting casually on the saddlehorn, an amused smile on his face.

“What’d you two do?” he asked, indicating the mess that was left of Julia’s picnic lunch.  “Try to feed all the ants one at a time?  You do know it’s winter and they’re all in hibernation don’t ya?”

“Oh,” Julia gasped, looking down at herself.  “My dress!  Ma’s gonna kill me!”

“Won’t be the first time,” Harry said laconically, leaning back in the saddle to swing one leg up and over the saddlehorn for more comfort.  “Nor the last I’d wager.  Guess that fancy college degree of yours didn’t make ya as grown up as ya’d like all of us ta believe.”

“Oh, shush yer mouth, Harry Cross!”

“Here,” Jamie said, walking up with one hand held out.  In it he dangled his handkerchief, freshly dipped in the water of the swimming hole.  “Let me help ya clean up.”

Without further warning, he reached out to begin scrubbing at Julia’s face.

“Hey!” she protested, batting his hand away.  “That’s cold.”

“Well, what’d ya expect?” Jamie asked, bewildered.  “It’s December in Nebraska.  Of course the creek water’s cold.  You got another way of gettin’ all that goop off ya ‘fore we head back ta town?”

“Oh, give me that,” Julia acquiesced, reaching out to snatch the handkerchief from him.  In a matter of moments she had her face, hair and dress cleaned as much as possible and handed the now thoroughly soiled hanky back to Jamie, who waved it off.

“No, you keep it,” he smiled teasingly.  “Seems you get more use out of it than I do, anyways.”

“Seein’ as this was all yer fault,” she smiled sweetly, “I think you ought ta keep it.”  And threw the hanky at him so hard it landed with a wet slopping sound in the middle of his chest.

Jamie moved to take revenge when a piercing whistle had him wincing and turning to look at Harry.

“The time?” Harry grinned.  “Remember?  We gotta get you two back ta town, for everyone starts talkin’.  Now, mount up.”

Moments later, Jamie and Julia had everything packed up and loaded tied to the back of Katelyn’s saddle.  Then, Jamie mounted quickly and kicked his foot free of the stirrup, forcing Julia to mount behind him this time, instead of in front.

He’d thought that would save him from suffering the same sort of torture on the ride back to town that he’d endured on the way out here.  He’d been right.  It wasn’t the same at all.  This was a whole different level of hell.  The feel of her warm body pressed tight against his back, curvy in all the right places, had him about ready to burst.  And that was before her soft little hands slipped around his waist and settled on the saddlehorn.  Right.  In.  Front.  Of.  Him.

By the time they got back to town, Jamie could barely breathe and was completely incapable of talking.  Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, only time would tell, Harry noticed his condition and jumped in to explain their late return before anyone could ask questions.

“Sorry we’re late, Ma,” Harry said as they trotted up and Jamie lowered Julia to the ground, then handed her her basket.  “We were down by the swimmin’ hole and lost track of the time.”

“All of you?” Dawn Star asked suspiciously.  “I seem to remember those two riding off on their own.”

“Oh, Jamie and I had already decided ta meet down there, escape from all those silly school girls in town that are always chasin’ us,” Harry said, helping Julia up into the wagon onto the seat next to her mother and sister.  “Plans just… changed.. a bit, that’s all.”

“Harrumph,” Dawn Star muttered, not really buying the explanation as she eyed Julia’s dirtied skirts and the still damp condition of Jamie’s shirt, pants and hair.  Obviously not willing to take the conversation any further in front of curious eyes, she slapped the reins against the back of the horses, jerking the buckboard into motion and leaving all the riders scrambling to take their positions for the ride home.

**********

Carl Wiggins stepped out from the alley by the Marshal’s office, a plate of cake in one hand, narrowed eyes glaring after the Crosses and McClouds as they left town.

That little tease had been one of the Cross girls?  How dared she play him for a fool.  Had to’ve been the one what went off ta college.  What had been her name?  Oh yeah, Julia.

Well, just ‘cause she’d managed ta fool all them snooty college brats inta thinkin’ she was a good, Christian, white girl didn’t mean she’d pulled the wool over his eyes.  He’d seen the way she’d been hanging on the McCloud kid when they’d ridden into town.  And the condition of their clothes had spoken loud and clear.

“You’ll get yers, Miss Hoity Toity,” Wiggins sneered.  “Just you wait.  And I’ll take care of young McCloud, too, don’tcha worry none ‘bout him.”

Chapter 5

A Young Lady's Fancy

Author's note:  This takes place in the middle of the season 3 episode, Presence of Mine Enemies.

Louise winced as Rachel pulled a loose curl of hair tight and pinned it ruthlessly in place.  It felt like she’d been here for hours now, getting ready for tonight’s dance.  It was their first in Rock Creek and, between Teaspoon and Rachel, they’d figured out a way for Lou to attend as Louise.  It was to be her very first dance as a girl, woman. 

While she hadn’t enjoyed the experience of being tied into a corset, she certainly approved of the results, Lou mused, eyeing the shelf of bosoms that suddenly jutted out from her chest.  She’d never have guessed she had so much… flesh… up there.  And her hair was looking nice, too.  But every time she thought Rachel was done, the older woman yanked another tendril into place.

“How much longer?” Lou whined.  “Surely you’ve got to be done by done.  We’ve been here forever.”

“Mmmph,” Rachel mumbled as she jabbed another pin into the girl’s dark brown hair.

“What?”

Rachel paused to pull the handful of hairpins out of her mouth.

“A few more minutes for the hair,” she smiled, meeting Lou’s eyes in the bureau mirror.  “But then we have to paint.”

Lou whipped her head around to look at Rachel directly, her impatience with the time taken on her hair forgotten in her shock over what was next on the schedule.  “What?!?!”

Rachel laughed and nodded.

“No, I won’t!” Lou declared, starting to stand up in outrage.  “I won’t paint myself up like some… some.. painted lady!”

“Louise, sit back down,” Rachel said firmly, pushing down on the girl’s shoulder.  “And stop lying to yourself.  You asked me to make you look as pretty as the other girls in town.  Well, guess what?  They all paint, or powder, or something to enhance what God gave them.  And you spend so much time outdoors,” Rachel paused to hold up a hand to forestall whatever Lou was about to say, “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but it does mean you’re darker, naturally, than most of the girls in town.  They do everything they can to avoid the sun, and then a bit more to ensure a pale face.  You spend your days almost reveling in it.  That’s got a beauty all its own.  But it isn’t the…the ‘look’ I guess you could call it… that’s popular in town right now.”

Lou reached up tentatively to touch one cheek, staring at herself in the mirror as she noted its golden blond color.  “Really?”

“Really,” Rachel promised.  “Now, let me finish your hair.”

“Alright,” Lou nodded in reluctant acquiescence.

Rachel returned the pile of pins to her mouth and began shoving them ruthlessly here and there, until not a shred of Lou’s hair dared escape without express permission.  Occasionally, Lou winced as a pin scraped against her scalp a bit too harshly.  But mostly, her thoughts were lost, somewhere, somewhen else.

She hardly noticed when Rachel set down the brush and pulled out a prettily decorated wooden box filled with pots of cremes and powders and several oversized paint brushes.

Rachel hummed to herself as she began to mix colors together, occasionally pausing to tilt Lou’s face into the sunlight streaming through the nearby window.

As she reached out to began brushing a white powder across Lou’s cheek, Lou suddenly grabbed her wrist, stopping Rachel’s hand in mid-air.  Looking up at the older woman, she said quietly, “Promise me.  Promise I won’t look like no working girl?”

Rachel laughed.  “Promise.  We’re going to make you look as natural as the day you were born.  Minus a few things you’ve picked up since then, that’s all.”

Letting go of Rachel’s hand, Lou closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the transformation she still wasn’t sure about.  The brush felt soft as velvet as it swept down her cheeks, along her jawbone, across her forehead.  Then, a smaller brush slipped softly over her eyelids.  Finally, she felt Rachel’s thumb rubbing something creamy across her her lips.

“All done,” Rachel said, a smile still in her voice.  “You can open your eyes now.”

Slowly she opened them just enough to peek through her hovering eyelashes, afraid of what she  might see, hands clenching repeatedly at the edge of the chair she was seated on.

“Ohhh,” Lou gasped, her eyes flying completely open in surprise.  For there before her in the mirror was someone she didn’t recognize.  There sat a girl as pretty as any of the young ladies in town, her fair skin unmarked by the sun, her lips rosy, her eyes shining brightly from soot-darkened lashes.

“You’re beautiful, Louise,” Rachel said softly.

“As beautiful as Amanda?” she asked tentatively, standing up to twirl her skirts in a wondering circle.  “As….”  she stopped, not wanting to put voice to that woman’s name.  She ‘d told herself she had nothing of which to be jealous.  Kid had been his own man.  But just the sound of that woman’s name, the roll of the consonants and vowels across her tongue made her want to vomit all over again. 

“More,” Rachel laughed.  “Kid won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Who says I was thinkin’ ‘bout Kid?” Lou asked a bit shortly, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.  She’d thought they’d been moving closer since coming to Rock Creek.  But lately he’d been… distant, almost as if he were hiding something.  Or someone?  her suspicious mind asked.  She shook her head.  “I just want ta know what it’s like.  Everyone keeps sayin’ I’m missin’ out on somethin’ livin’ like a boy.  You, Teaspoon, the boys.”

A sudden raucous knocking at the front door interrupted them.

“You ‘bout ready, Lou?” Cody’s voice called up impatiently.  “Ike wants ta draw a picture of us ‘fore we leave.”

Lou turned to Rachel, a question in her eyes.  Rachel laughed and made shooing motions with her hands.

“Go on,” she said.  “We’re done here.”

Lou turned and started to rush toward the stairs, only to trip over her own skirts.

“Slow down, young lady,” Rachel called after her.  “Take small steps.  Glide, don’t gallop.  You’re an elegant young lady now, not a rough and tumble boy.”

Louise gulped.  This being a lady thing was tougher than it looked, she thought.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded and resumed her motion toward the stairs, trying to keep her customary long strides to short, mincing steps instead.  It felt… decidedly odd, she decided.

“And don’t go letting those boys dragging you into any of their roughhousing,” Rachel called after her.  “You don’t want to disturb your hair.  Or sweat off those cosmetics.”

**********
Stepping daintily through the bunkhouse door, Louise smiled brightly.  “Here I am boys.  All ready for the dance.”

A collective gasp rippled through the room as each of the boys caught sight of her in turn.

“It’s about time,” Kid started to say from where he stood in front of the mirror, tying the string tie of his new suit.  “We’ve all been waiting for hours.  What took you so---”

His voice stumbled to an abrupt halt as he turned and caught sight of her.  “…long,” he finished, gulping.

“Rachel says it takes time to look pretty,” Lou said with a simpering smile.  Twirling for the room of admiring males, she added, “So?  Did she get it right?”

Noah stepped up and took her hand in his.  Bowing before her, his other hand tucked behind his back, he smiled.  “My did she ever, Miss Louise McCloud.  You’ll be the prettiest gal at the dance.”

Clenching her fingertips over his hand to steady herself, Lou clutched the sides of her skirts with the other hand and carefully lowered herself into a graceful curtsy.

“Why thank you, evah so much, kind Sir,” she smiled, looking up at Noah flirtatiously through her eyelashes.

As she rose back to her full height, Noah laughed and pulled her into his arms.

“How ‘bout a dance right now?  Seein’ as I don’t aim ta stick my head in no white man’s noose fer askin’ ya over at the school house,” he joked.

“Why, I’d be honored,” Lou smiled more broadly.

“Hey, Kid,” Noah said over his shoulder.  “Play us a tune on yer mouth organ, why don’t ya?”

Kid didn’t move, continuing to stare fixedly at Lou.  Cody shoved his shoulder against his brother’s to get his attention.

“Wha?” Kid turned a confused look on the blonde rider standing next to him.

“Play somethin’ nice,” Cody hissed through his smile.  “So’s Noah and Buck can get at least one dance tonight!”  Lowering his voice he added more quietly, “Don’t worry, ya can keep lookin’ at her.  Ya only need yer lips to work that mouth organ of yers.”

Jimmy and Ike laughed at the overheard quip.  Kid blushed, but began digging in his pocket for his harmonica.  Moments later the sweet notes of a popular waltz began pouring out of the musical instrument.

Noah began to swing Lou around the room, dancing with a vigorous intensity that Lou wondered how Cassie would manage to keep up with him tonight.  Then, a sudden twirl had her flying across the room and into Buck’s arms.  The two laughed as they collided.  Then she was flying around the room again.

Kid’s eyes never left her animated face as he played the music for his brothers.  He didn’t begrudge them this dance, knowing that they’d spend most of the formal dance at the school house holding up the walls.  But he couldn’t wait to hold Lou in his own arms.  He wondered if she’d noticed his new suit yet.  He’d spent a lot of time the last few weeks working extra runs to get the money for it.  Then he’d had to head over to Seneca to have it made and fitted.  He’d only brought it back on his run last night.  It was the fanciest suit he’d ever owned in his life.  Seeing how pretty she looked now, he was glad he’d gone to the effort.  Even if the other boys had teased him mercilessly about it.

**********

Lou smiled thankfully as Rachel handed her a glass of punch.

“So, was it worth it?” Rachel asked with a smile.

“Hunh?” Lou asked, tearing her eyes away from the dance floor and her unconscious search for Kid.  He’d danced with her once, but so had each of the other boys and a couple of the young men from town.  In all the twirling and swirling she’d lost sight of him and wondered who he was dancing with now.

“All that time getting ready,” Rachel reminded her.  “Worth it?”

Trying to draw in a deep breath, but stopped short by the corset, Lou smiled slightly breathlessly.  She shrugged.  “Well, I s’pose every woman wants ta be treated like she’s the most beautiful woman in the room,” Lou allowed.  “But I just can’t see goin’ through that every day.”  Turning to look up at Rachel, she added, “How do you have the patience for it?”

Rachel just shook her head.  “You get used to it.  And, honestly, most of us women don’t know any other way.”

“You could try--”  Lou started to offer to help Rachel understand the joys of not having to worry about whether every hair was in place, of racing across the plains in carefree abandon, her only concern being how long her horse could maintain the pace.  But a softly growled noise interrupted her.

She turned and met Kid’s eyes.  And blushed.

“Would you give me the honor of this dance?” he asked formally, holding out a hand to her.

Rachel watched happily as Lou followed Kid back out to the dance floor.  Lou didn’t need to worry about spending hours every day enhancing her looks.  She already had what every every young lady’s fancy, the love of a good man, even if she didn’t quite recognize the value of what she held in her hands just yet.  And heaven help Kid, once she did, Rachel laughed to herself.

Righteous Anger

Author's note:  This story occurs during the Season 3 episode, Spirits.

“Buck, where’s the Kid?” Lou asked, wiping her hands dry on a dishcloth and laying it down on the table next to the bowl of water pinkened by Jesse’s blood.  Until the doctor had told them Jesse was going to be fine, she hadn’t had a thought other than for the young man she already considered a younger brother, despite the short time he’d been with them.

Her hands shook a little as she picked up the bowl and headed out of the bunkhouse door to dump the water.  It never really bothered her to get shot.  Oh, sure it hurt, but it didn’t bother her.  It was a risk she’d taken.  But when one of the other was hurt, or missing, it shook her to the core every single time.  She never quite got over that.

Right now all she wanted to do was hide away from the world, snug in the safety of Kid’s arms.  But he was nowhere in sight.

“I dunno,” Buck said, following her.  Stopping on the bunkhouse porch, he looked around the station yard searchingly.  “Last I saw him, he was helpin’ Rachel bring Jesse into the bunkhouse.”

“Wonder why he took off?” Lou muttered to herself.  Handing the bowl to Buck, she asked, “Would ya take this back?  I think I might know where he is.”

“Sure.”

**********

“Thought I might find you back here,” Lou said quietly, as she stopped next to Kid.  The young man was perched on the edge of his horse’s stall wall, elbows resting on his knees, staring down at his hands, one clenched in the other.  “What’s wrong?”

Kid looked up at her and she had to force herself not to gasp at the haunted look in his blue eyes.  Instead, she just stepped closer and laid her hand on his thigh.  They stood like that, staring at each other, for long moments.  Then, Kid finally spoke, in a harsh, quiet rasp she almost couldn’t make out.

“I coulda killed him.  Almost did.”

“I felt like shootin’ Stalder myself when I saw what he done to Jesse and Rachel.”

“But ya didn’t draw down on him,” Kid protested.

“He wasn’t around by then.”

Kid shook his head violently from side to side, turning his back on Lou. 

“You don’t understand,” he muttered.

Lou looked at his huddled, forlorn shape for a moment, then climbed up on the stall wall herself.  Sitting side by side with the Kid, not looking at him, she said, “Then make me understand.”

Kid looked down at his clenched hands.  With great effort he wrenched them apart, spreading the fingers wide.  Out of the corner of her eye, Lou could tell both hands were shaking like a leaf in the wind of an oncoming spring thunderstorm.  She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him and comfort him.  But she could tell he wouldn’t let her.  Not yet.

“He said he was sorry,” Kid whispered in a small voice, starting to rock back and forth.  “But he always says that.  Then he hits us again.  And again and again.  I don’t know why she lets him.”

Confused, Lou turned to look at Kid.  It was then she realized he wasn’t talking about the Express special investigator Mike Stalder accidentally shooting Jesse, then hitting Rachel when she wouldn’t let him near the boy.  No.  Kid was talking about something, someone else.

“Who, Kid?” she asked quietly.

“Pa.”

Once, after Kid’s brother Jed had died, he’d told her a bit about their family life.  Not much.  Just that their Pa had been a mean drunk and had run off on them.  She’d sensed, even then, there was so much more to the story than that.

“Tell me about it.”

“I remember when things were good,” Kid started.  “When he loved us and played with us.  But then we had a couple bad years on the farm.  Crops failed, we couldn’t pay the mortgage.  Pa turned ta drink.  Suddenly he was comin’ home drunk almost every night.  And drink made him mean.  Didn’t matter what any of us did, it’d set him off.  One night he’d haul off and wallop us fer bein’ too noisy.  The next night fer sneakin’ around, ‘cause we was tryin’ ta be quiet.”

Lou tentatively reached out and grabbed one of Kid’s shaking hands in hers.

“Got so’s we’d do thin’s deliberate ta make him mad at us so’s he’d leave Ma alone.  She was small, like you.  He broke her arm one time.  We was scared he’d do worse if we didn’t stop him.”

“But then he left.”

Kid shook his head slowly.  “Jed had gotten almost as big as him.  And one night Pa, he comes in, sotted ta the gills and starts yellin’ how Jed ain’t pullin’ his weight around the farm.  He hauls off ta hit him and Jed beats him ta the punch.  Pa was so drunk, he fell backward.  Broke one of Ma’s heirloom table chairs.  But Jed didn’t care.  Told Pa ta go ta bed, sleep it off.  Then get the hell off the farm and never come back.  Said Pa hadn’t done a lick of work around the place fer two years and had no claim on it no more.  And if he didn’t leave, Jed said he was goin’ ta kill him.”

Lou nodded, trying not to wince at the death grip Kid now had on her hand, as he squeezed her tight.

“He was gone the next mornin’ when I got up ta do the milkin’.”

Lou leaned her head against Kid’s shoulder.  All of a sudden, she understood his fierce protectiveness of her in ways she never had before.  She bit her lip to keep from blurting out how shocked she was that he’d ever been able to keep her secret at all, let alone had the strength to stand by and watch her ride off into possible danger by herself on a regular basis.

Instead, she asked, “Why now?”

“I ain’t never been as angry with another man as I used ta be with my Pa.  Until now.  I coulda kilt him without a second thought.”

“But you didn’t,” she reminded him.

He continued almost as if he hadn’t heard her.  “I coulda kilt him then and there.  A defenseless human bein’.  I coulda ended his life without a speck of remorse.  I wouldn’t’ve felt nothin’, nothin’ but relief.  I remember the first time I killed a man.  I threw up later that day.  Did I ever tell ya that?  It was awful!”

“Yeah, you told me,” she said reaching up to brush a stray curl of hair off his forehead.  “But you learned to do what you had to do to survive.”

“Except, I didn’t have ta kill Stalder and I woulda anyway.”

“So, what stopped you?” she asked, staring up at his tortured face.

He paused a long moment, thinking back over the incident.

“I don’t know.  I guess knowing Rachel and Jesse were right there.”

Lou smiled a smile he never saw.

“I’d say you had every right ta that anger, the desire ta kill Stalder.  He’d threatened, he’d hurt, she paused to ruthlessly correct herself, a hint of her own anger seeping into her voice, “the ones you love.  Do you remember Lambert?”

Kid nodded, slowly turning to look down at her, as if to reassure himself that she no longer bore the bruises Marshal Cole Lambert had ruthlessly imprinted on her face when he got the drop on her after she’d helped the others break Kid out of Lambert’s jail.

“Did you feel sorry for killin’ him?”

Kid shook his head.

“Why?”

“He deserved ta die,” Kid said baldly.

“And you gave him a fair chance,” Lou added.  “But you had no doubts about what you had ta do.  And ya did it fer me.  But ya turned away from killin’ Stalder.  Why?”

“It… it was an accident.  He didn’t really mean ta hurt them,” Kid whispered in dawning realization.

“Yer anger was pure, it was righteous both times.  But ya were able ta make a conscious choice about right and wrong.”  She paused, reaching up to cup his cheek in one palm.  “Yer not yer Pa, Kid.  Sure, you’ve got a temper,” she laughed lightly.  “But ya know how ta control it.  And ya don’t let drink control you.”

She felt some of the tension seep out of Kid’s body at her words as he pondered the truth in them.  He wasn’t ready to go back and join the others yet, but he’d pulled back from the brink of whatever cliff he’d been looking over.  With a grunt, he reached out and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her tight to his chest.

“What would I do without you?” he asked, resting his chin against the top of her head.

She smiled against the fabric of his shirt.

“I dunno.  But ya ain’t got ta worry ‘bout it.  Tol’ ya.  I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

To Ride The Cyclone

Summary:  A/U, Kid, Lou and the rest are all part of a Division I college basketball team, on their way to great things, if they can get past the hurdles life throws at them.  They'll have the help of a great coach, Teaspoon Connelly, along the way.  Watch out.  There's at least one totally unexpected twist right at the start.

Author's note:  This is a crossover with my favorite basketball team and the incredible story of how it came to be.  That said, it's only loosely based.  There's definitely a bit of 'Could've Been' in there.

Prologue:   Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

Thunk.  Thunk.  Thunk.

The repeated pounding of the basketball on the concrete of the driveway was a soothing sonata to Kid’s frazzled nerves.  In just a few short weeks college would start, and a whole new stage of life would begin.  It wasn’t the classes Kid worried about, it was the basketball.  If there was one thing in life Kid held sacred, other than God of course, it was basketball.

Thunk.

A bend of the knees, a carefully indrawn breath, eyes zeroed in on the basket and… release.  The ball described a perfect arc from hand to basket.  Swish!  The net sang its sibilant song of triumph.

“Ninety-seven,” Kid said under breath, racing to get the rebounding leather sphere.

“Kid!  Jed’s on the phone for you!” came a female voice from the front door.

“Aw, Mom,” Kid groaned.  “Can you ask her to wait a few minutes?  I’ve only got three more shots to go.”

“Kid, now!  Your sister’s calling all the way from Ohio.  And you know how busy her schedule is.”

“Yes, Ma,” Kid said, turning and trudging unwillingly toward the door, bouncing the ball with every step.  Reaching the doorstep, she turned and let loose with the ball, smiling with satisfaction as it sailed effortlessly through the hoop.  “Nothin’ but  net,” she whispered to herself.  “Ninety-eight.”

Bounding up the steps and in the door, she took the phone her mother held out for her and began leaping up the stairs, two at a time, to her room, where she threw herself across her bed.

“So, what’s up?”

“Hi, little sis’,” Jed said, her soft, Southern drawl a pronounced difference from her younger sister’s more Midwestern twang.  “All ready for college?”

Jedidah Krakowsky was ten years older than Rivka, or the Kid as her friends called her.  Kid was the baby of the family, a ‘surprise’ addition according to their mother, who’d arrived well after they’d all moved Iowa.  Jed had been born when they still lived back in Virginia, on the old family homestead.  But an economic downturn had led to their father losing the farm to creditors.  Now, he happily worked for someone else at a corporate owned dairy in Cedar Rapids.

Jed had never been totally happy in Iowa and had headed back East first chance she’d gotten.  There she’d quickly traded her basketball scholarship for a degree and a job coaching at the University of Virginia.

“Everything’s packed up, got my dorm assignments, schedule’s set,” Kid said, flipping over on her back and twirling one of her long, curly locks of thick brown hair around one finger.  “What about you?  You enjoying being back home?”

“Well, see, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Jed said, a smile in her voice.  “I’m comin’ back.”

“What?” Kid asked, sitting upright in shock.  “But, why?  I thought you hated it here.”

“I ain’t exactly enamored of the place, that’s the truth,” Jed laughed.  “But I couldn’t pass up this chance.”

“What chance is that?”

“You remember Teaspoon?  Coach Connelly?”

“Yeah,” Kid said.  “He’s one of the best in the game.”

“Well, he just got hired on at Iowa State and he’s asked me to be his assistant, working with the guards.”

“No way!  The one that’s known for taking no name teams and turning them into powerhouses?”

“Yes, way!” Jed confirmed.

The sisters laughed together.

“You know that means we’re going to be rivals,” Kid said.

“I couldn’t persuade you to trade in that Hawkeye scholarship for a Cyclone one, could I?” Jed asked, only half joking.

“Nuh unh,” Kid breathed, shaking her head.  “I’ve dreamed about playing for the University of Iowa for about as long as I can remember.”

“That’s too bad,” Jed said.  “It would’ve been nice bein’ on the same team.”

Kid laughed.  They loved each other like crazy, but fought like the siblings they were when in the same space for more than a day or so.

“So, when’re ya movin’ back,” Kid asked.  “Any chance of seein’ ya before I head off to school?”

**********

Nine months later….

Kid pushed her way through the door of the coffee shop in Iowa City, exhaustion, both mental and physical, bowing her slight shoulders.  A quick glance around showed her sister, Jed, seated in a back corner booth, obscured from the general crowd.  Kid nodded, then jerked her chin toward the counter, indicating she was going to get something before heading over.  Jed smiled in understanding, lifting her own coffee cup in salute.

A few minutes later, Kid slid onto the bench across from her sister, almost deflating with the movement.

“That bad?”

Kid shook her head.  “Worse.”

“Wanna tell me ‘bout it?” Jed’s soft voice soothed Kid’s jangled nerves.  “Somehow I doubt it was your grades and I know your playing was up to its usual standards.”

“They don’t take it seriously,” Kid said, barely audibly.  “They’re getting scholarships, getting paid to play for one of the best schools in the country, a powerhouse in the Big 10 and they act like it’s all a Sunday afternoon lark.”

“Uh oh,” Jed murmured sympathetically.

“All any of them can talk about is boys and what parties they’re going to after the game, or went to last weekend, or whatever.  They put in the minimum time they can get away with in the gym.  I… I just can’t take it.”

Jed didn’t say anything, just reaching out and placing her own slender hand over Kid’s smaller one in a comforting gesture.

Kid sat there, glaring into her coffee cup, for long moments, saying nothing.  Then, slowly raising her eyes to meet Jed’s, she asked diffidently, “Is that offer to transfer still open?  Would Coach Connelly take me?”

Jed smiled.  “He’s just been waitin’ fer ya ta ask.”

To be continued....

The Courtship of James Hunter McCloud, chapter 3

“Everyone ready?” Dawn Star called from her seat at the front of the buckboard.  She was dressed in her finest white man’s clothes, a pretty pink frock with white lace at the wrists, neck and hem, covered with a dark, rose colored cape to keep her warm.  Her eldest daughter, Morning Star sat at her side.  All the other adults were mounted on horseback, the pride of the Hotheads and Misfits Ranch, most with a child, or two, mounted in front of them.

Jamie sat astride his favorite mare, Katelyn.  Her grand-dam had been his Pa’s mount back in the Express.  He’d been there when she was born and trained her himself.  He patted the paint’s pretty neck, keeping his other arm firmly around his little sister Mary Margaret’s waist.  But, try though he might, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Julia.  She looked so pretty.

Today she was wearing a white dress with dark blue stripes of color.  It was trimmed in black velvet that matched her long, ankle length winter cape.  She was so pretty.  He sighed.  Mary Margaret giggled.

“What are you gigglin’ ‘bout?” he asked his nine year old sister.

“You’re funny,” she smiled up at him.  “Yer in love and won’t admit it.  Why don’t ya just buy her basket at the social?  That’d get her to like you.  It’s the big one there on the back of the buckboard with the blue and white ribbons on the handle.”

Jamie just shook his head at his sister’s simplistic view of life.  “Yer too young ta understand, sis,” he said.  “Things ‘re more complicated than that when yer an adult.”

Urging Katelyn into motion, he rode up next to the wagon, his usual position on a family trip like this.  Harry Sleepy Boy Cross sat on his bay gelding on the other side of the buckboard.  Kid and Lou would ride lead, as always.  Buck would follow at the end, to make sure no one got left behind.  With a group as large as their combined families, they had to be very organized about things like this or risk losing someone, somewhere.

Once again, Jamie found his eyes drawn to Julia’s animated face as she smiled in response to something her mother said.  He watched as little laugh lines appeared at the corners of her mouth and eyes.  He could see how she would look one day in those lines and he wanted to be there to see it in person with every fiber of his being.

As if feeling his gaze on her, Julia glanced in his direction, the laughter fading from her eyes, leaving behind a cold glare that froze his innards.  Luckily it didn’t last long as she deliberately turned her back toward him and said something to her mother.

Jamie nodded to himself, forlornly, as Dawn Star started the buckboard into motion and he urged Katelyn forward to keep pace.  He just hoped Julia didn’t marry someone from out of town.  At least that way he’d still get to see her occasionally.

**********

Kid laughed as Lou looked back over her shoulder for the dozenth time.

“What’s the matter, Lou?  Scared one of the young’un’s is gonna sneak up on ya or somethin’?” he teased.  “Yer so busy lookin’ back, you wouldn’t notice a whole band of outlaws until ya rode right over ‘em.”

Lou shook her head.  “No, just can’t seem to stop watchin’ our son make a fool of himself is all.”

Kid looked back himself this time, just in time to catch Jamie sneaking a peak at Julia then quickly turning away.  He laughed again.

“So that’s the way the wind’s blowin’, hunh?” he said.  “Can’t say as I’m surprised.  I allus figured those two’d make a go of it.”

“Not if he has his way they won’t,” Lou said acerbically.  “He’s bound and determined to push her away.  Stupid child.”  She turned to glare at her husband.  “Wonder where he gets it from?”

“I’d say that’s a slight case of the pot callin’ the kettle black, there, darlin’,” Kid teased, reaching out to tickle her side.

“I had good reasons,” Lou sniffed, poking her nose into the air in a superior manner.

“And I’m sure he does, too,” Kid said.  “Don’t mean they won’t work things out.  We did.”

“Let’s just hope they don’t’ have to go gettin’ one of ‘em kidnapped and held hostage!” Lou retorted, thinking back to the Pike brothers and her own capture.  “These children are too soft to handle some of the things we went through.”

Kid just laughed again.  “They’ll figure it out.”

**********

“Come on, Jamie!” his best friend, outside the family at least, urged, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him in the direction of the church steps.  Tables were set up alongside the steps leading to the church doors, heavily ladened with picnic baskets full of various goodies lovingly prepared by the town’s fairest, and most eligible, citizens.  Its young ladies.

“Alright, already,” he muttered, reluctantly allowing his friend to drag him along.  “I’m comin’, Lewis, no need ta rip a new hole in my best shirt.”

“That’s fer danged sure,” Lewis laughed, playfully patting at the shirtsleeve he’d been yanking on.  “You do that jest fine on yer own.  How’d ya ever make it all the way inta town without rippin’ it ta shreds, anyhow?”

“He was too busy eyein’ my sister ta find anythin’ ta tear it on,” Harry grinned, shoving Jamie toward Lewis, who just punched him in the arm to get him moving back in the other direction.

Jamie shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the both of them, missing the significant look they shared behind his back.

The next half hour was one of the longest of his life.  He watched with little interest as basket after basket was sold to the town’s eager swains.  The whole thing was supposed to be anonymous, but it was easy to tell that many a young man had already sussed out, or been simply informed directly by his sweetheart, which basket belonged to his preferred young lady.

Despite his disinterest in the majority of the auction, Jamie couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting toward the big picnic basket sitting on the end of one table, a large bow made up of blue and white ribbons decorating its handle.  The curiosity was killing him.  Had she cooked his favorite foods?  Or something fancy she’d learned to make while off at college?  Had she thought about him at all while preparing the meal?

Shrugging his shoulders, he ducked his head and determinedly stared down at his toes.  It was none of his business.  He’d made that clear to her.  She deserved someone better than a dumb, half educated cowboy who smelled like the barn all the time.

“Oh, damn!”

The softly exhaled exclamation and stiffening body of Harry at his side, drew Jamie out of his inner musings.  Looking up, he asked, “What?”

Harry pointed with his chin, as Buck had taught him was polite, toward the figure of their school nemesis, Carl Wiggins, pushing his way roughly toward the front of the crowd while digging industriously in one pocket.  Nervously, Jamie looked toward the church steps to see which basket was being auctioned just as his mother handed the preacher Julia’s picnic.

“Now here’s a pretty little meal,” the preacher began his prattle.  “Beautifully decorated and even more wonderfully tasting, to judge by the smell.”  He sniffed appreciatively at the basket, while turning it around and around for all to see.  “What am I bid for this wondrous concoction?”

Jamie started to turn away, not wanting to see who won Julia’s lunch, and company for the afternoon.  But he stopped when he heard Wiggins shout out.

“Two bits!”

“I’ve got two bits,” the preacher smiled at Wiggins.  Looking around the crowd of townsfolk, he asked exuberantly, “Am I bid three?  Three bits, anyone?”

Jamie looked around, waiting for someone, anyone to take up the call and outbid Wiggins.  Never mind that most of the baskets had gone for little more than two bits that day.

“Three bits?  Last chance,” the preacher warned.  “Are you sure you don’t want to outbid this young gentleman for this delicious meal.  I smell fried chicken in there.”

Still no one answered the call.  Some even shrank away from Wiggins possessive glare.

“Two bits,” the preacher sighed.  “Going…. going….”

“Three bits!”

Jamie gulped.  Had that been him?  Yep.  That was his hand waving in the air, three halves of a quarter clutched in is clenched fist.

The preacher smiled beatifically, perking up at the signs that there was about to be a bidding war.

“Three bits.  We have three bits.  Do I hear four?  Fifty cents anyone?”

“Fifty cents,” Wiggins shouted.

“Seventy-five,” Jamie answered.  He may not think he was good enough for his Julia.  But no way in hell was he letting Wiggins get within spitting distance of her.

Unfortunately, Wiggins had other ideas.  “One dollar, fifty cents!”

The crowd gasped.  No basket had gone for more than seventy-five cents.  Wiggins had just doubled that.

“A dollar fifty!” the preacher crowed.  “We have one fifty.  Is there another bid?”  He looked toward Jamie eagerly.  “Remember, these funds go toward a good cause.  To support the War Orphans at the Mission in St. Joe.  Follow this young man’s example,” he pointed toward Wiggins, “and bid generously.”

Jamie began to dig frantically through his pockets, gathering every coin and bit he had on him.  But, no matter how many times he counted them, the paltry pile of coins resting in his palm only added up to a dollar.  Looking up his eyes met those of the preacher, and he started to shake his head. He couldn’t beat Wiggins bid.  He swallowed hard, wanting to hurl.

“A dollar fifty,” the preacher continued.  “Going once….  Going twice….”

“Here,” Harry hissed, shoving more coins into Jamie’s hand.  “That’s all I’ve got.  Don’t let that bastard win!”

Looking down, Jamie saw three brand new, shiny silver coins resting on top of the pile of change in his hand.

“One seventy-five,” he crowed exultantly.  He refused to look in the direction where the young ladies were gathered.  He didn’t know if he could do this if he saw the recrimination in Julia’s eyes.  He’d promised to leave her alone and, less than a day later, he was breaking his promise.  Just went to show how wrong he was for her.

If he had, he might have seen the glow in her eyes, the blush on her cheek that rose a little bit higher each time he bid and the fear that made her smile brittle every time he was outbid.

“Two fifty,” Wiggins countered.

Jamie almost staggered back.  There was no way he could scrounge together that much on such a short notice.  He looked at Harry, almost panicked.  What was he supposed to do now?  A nudge at his shoulder and Jamie looked up at Lewis, standing on his other side holding something out to him.

“Take it,” Lewis urged, shoving the crisp new bill at him.

“I can’t,” Jamie gasped, trying to push Lewis’ hand back at him.  “Not your advance.”

Lewis shrugged.  “What do I need it for?  I’ve got a bed and food at the livery.

“But,” Jamie sputtered, “you had plans for that money.”

“This is more important,” Lewis hissed urgently.  “You can’t let him win that basket.  Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Jamie looked at his friend, confused.  “What?”

“He doesn’t know who she is!  You know how he feels about ‘Injuns’, sorry Harry,” he muttered a quick apology for using the pejorative term.  Harry waved it off understandingly.  “The Crosses in particular.  Can you imagine what he’ll do to her if he wins?”

Jamie inhaled sharply.  He’d been so caught up in his own turmoil he truly hadn’t noticed.  He snatched the bill out of Lewis’ hand and, without even looking at the preacher, shouted, “Six seventy-five!”

“Sold!” the preacher responded, pounding his gavel on the wooden lectern in front of him.  “For Six seventy-five to young James McCloud.”

Jamie slowly raised his head, turning to push his way toward the front of the crowd, to claim the lunch and the woman he’d bargained so hard for on this sunny morning.  In a daze, he came to a stop in front of the preacher, hearing none of the murmurs or laughter echoing from the gathered townsfolk.  He barely felt it as the preacher gently pried the money out of his hand and hung the basket over Jamie’s arm.

But he felt it throughout his entire body as a small hand snaked through the crook of his elbow and the warmth of her body pressed against his side.  Slowly, unwillingly, he lowered his gaze to meet hers.  Not sure what he expected to find there, he marveled at the surprise that warmed him as he sank into the joyous exultation of her smiling countenance.

Chapter 4