CHAPTER 3

1880

The two women stood at the kitchen counter, preparing the noonday meal. Jimmy would be in from the barn soon, and Rachel and Lou always tried to have a hearty meal ready for the tired worker. Today, both women couldn't concentrate on their task; each cast surreptitious glances at Teaspoon. The elderly man sat at the table, the smell of sickness emanating from his frail body. He began another coughing fit as Rachel moved toward him, her concern etched in both the wrinkles on her forehead and the tight frown on her lips.

Gently, Rachel rubbed Teaspoon's back, almost like a mother would comfort a child. She took the bloodied handkerchief from his hand, replacing it with a freshly laundered one and sat beside him a moment.

Lou watched from where she stood, biting her lip not to cry out. Teaspoon's condition, worsening gradually over the last several years, had reached a point that was painful to see. His cheeks sunk into his face, making his eyes appear larger than normal and his body, once strong, was now emaciated. The leathery skin seemed to hang on his bones and his hair had thinned. The town doctor visited the Hickok place often, checking on the patient so dear to this entire family, but the prognosis was bleak.

Rachel's hair had grayed, but the blonde had only turned to a paler shade. The woman who was like a mother to Lou still appeared young; the difference was only accentuated next to Teaspoon's aged posture and appearance. As she watched her dearest friend, Rachel felt years older than she looked. When thoughts of striking out on her own finally began to surface, Teaspoon's sickness had compelled her to remain. Rachel never regretted that decision; this was her home and her family.
"Don't you want to go lay down?" Rachel urged.

Glassy eyes turned to look at her face. A faint smile curved Teaspoon's mouth and even though sickness had waged war on his body, his eyes were aware and focused. "Not today Rachel. I'll soon have enough time to lay down. Today, I must talk to Jimmy and Lou." His words were raspy and his breath ragged from the effort, but Rachel nodded in understanding.

Teaspoon's words seem to summon Jimmy. The tall man entered the room, shutting the door behind him. His wide smile fell on his wife and he immediately walked over to Lou. Jimmy's palm cupped her cheek in greeting and his eyes whispered of his love. Concern then bathed his face when he noticed Lou's disturbed features. With a slight inclination of her head, Lou indicated Teaspoon across the room at the table. Even if Lou hadn't drawn his attention to the frail man, Jimmy would have soon realized his presence as a fit of coughing overwhelmed Teaspoon yet again.

Jimmy strode across the room, sitting opposite Rachel at the table. He looked at Teaspoon -- the man that had been his boss, his teacher, his friend, his mentor and his father. Feeling like the parent, Jimmy cleared his throat. "You all right old man?" he cajoled, though his tone was gentle.
Teaspoon laughed, causing another fit of spasms in his chest. Nodding his head into the white handkerchief, Teaspoon looked over at the younger man. He'd known for Jimmy for nearly 20 years and Teaspoon was proud; proud of the man he'd grown into, the husband and father he had become and the respect and dignity of his bearing.

"I need to talk to you and Lou," Teaspoon wheezed.

Jimmy nodded and Lou moved over to the table. She took her place at Jimmy's side and they gazed at Teaspoon, concern clouding their faces.
Before Teaspoon could speak again, noisy footfalls bounded up the steps, onto the porch.

"Did not!" yelled Swain.

"I say you did," countered Dixon.

They entered the room, the clatter of their booming voices filling the space.

"Pipe down boys," instructed Lou softly, but firmly. "Ya'll are in the house now."

"Sorry Mama," they chimed in unison.

Rachel rose from the table. "Why don't you boys show me that turtle you found this morning," she urged.

The muddy boys nodded eagerly. "We found a frog too," announced Dixon with pride.

"I found it," argued Swain.

Rachel closed the door behind her, their voices muffled as they moved away from the house.

Teaspoon grinned. "Ya'll are raising some fine young 'uns."

"Coming from you, that means a lot," Lou observed.

Wiping his lips, Teaspoon continued. "I've got too much to say to mince words, so I best get to it. Things ain't been the same between ya'll and Honey the last three years. Though she still shows ya'll respect, she's distanced herself."

Jimmy and Lou could only nod in agreement. Ever since Honey had been told about her real father on her twelfth birthday, their relationship had been strained. Although the young woman continued to show respect to both her parents, Honey had become reserved. When with Annabelle, Lou still saw glimpses of a younger, carefree child, but for the most part, Honey was moody and withdrawn. It seemed the more her parents tried to draw her back into the warmth and closeness of the past, the more that Honey retreated into herself.

Teaspoon continued. "Now I ain't gonna lecture ya'll on waiting so long to tell her the truth, but ya'll have to face some things. She needs to know Kid and he needs to know her." Having to catch his breath, Teaspoon paused. "She ain't ever gonna find herself 'til she finds Kid. And she ain't gonna find her way back to you 'til then either."

Jimmy and Lou exchanged a glance. "We don't even know where Kid is," Lou spoke.

Her words were meant to defend their lack of action, but the words were also laced with a bit of concern. She and Jimmy had begun their marriage on the premise of Kid's death. Guiltily, Lou realized that it had been easier after Kid left again to go on pretending that he was still dead; Kid's lack of communication had made that very easy.

"And you ain't tried to find out," Teaspoon pointed out. "You know he still cares or he wouldn't keep putting money in that account in the bank. I bet you could trace him that way easy, if'n you tried."

His lungs decided to protest his lengthy speech as another outburst seized him. Lou moved quickly to replenish his cup of hot tea. Jimmy patted him soothingly on the back, unashamed of his affection for the older man.

When he was able, Teaspoon again began. "Honey wants to find Kid. Allowing her to do so will go a long way towards healing ya'lls troubles."

"She's only fifteen," Jimmy stated, as if that were argument enough. He and Lou had repositioned themselves at the table, now each flanking Teaspoon's side.

"Her mind should be on courting soon," added Lou.

"She ain't like most young ladies," Teaspoon disagreed. "She's a lot like you were at that age Lou -- stubborn, independent."

"We've worked hard so our kids wouldn't have to grow up fast like we did," Jimmy stressed. "So they wouldn't find themselves on their own before they were ready."

"Neither me or Jimmy can leave the ranch right now to help her search," Lou said. Though her words were sincere, they were also a sound excuse to ignore Teaspoon's advice.

"I think this is something she needs to do on her own," Teaspoon sighed. His words required more effort with each sentence. "Ya'll need to remember, you raised Honey into a strong young woman. You raised her to be like you. She's a mite headstrong, but she's level-headed."

"Did she ask you to talk to us?" Lou asked. She hated to admit it, but it bothered her that Honey would go to Teaspoon instead of directly to her mother.

"Not really," Teaspoon rasped. "She talks to me sometimes, but never in detail. Call it intuition, but I know this is true. And what you do now, support her or don't, is gonna affect how she feels about ya'll. It's gonna affect the rest of her life -- and yours."

Jimmy seemed to mull over his words. He had great respect for Teaspoon, but the idea of allowing Honey to go off on a wild goose chase, all alone, put fear within his heart. Even though Honey was not his seed, he loved her as his own.

Lou's thoughts ran close to her husband's. She knew what trouble had befallen her as a young girl, out in the world alone, and could only cringe at the idea of Honey facing similar torment.

Teaspoon rose slowly, coughing into his handkerchief, his hand weakly grasping the chair. Jimmy jumped up, moving to his side, steadying him.

"Help me back to the bunkhouse son," Teaspoon choked.

Lou rubbed her temples, trying to calm herself and consider Teaspoon's words rationally; Jimmy carefully led Teaspoon out of the house. Settling him into his own bed, in his own room, Jimmy watched until Teaspoon fell into a fitful sleep.

He waved at Rachel as he crossed the yard, again entering his kitchen. Lou and he exchanged a long, silent look. A wealth of worry passed between them across that small space of time.

That night, in the wee hours before dawn, Teaspoon Hunter breathed his last. Rachel, following her usual morning routine, opened his door at six. Immediately, she knew that something was wrong; for more months than she could count, Rachel had been greeted with Teaspoon's wheezing and labored breathing. On this morning, she opened the door to utter silence. Tears welled in her eyes as she crept into the room. She hesitated to disturb the calm stillness, and yet found solace that he had passed in his sleep. As she approached the body, she saw an ornery grin etched upon his withered face. The tears flowed freely and she wiped them carelessly with her sleeve. 'At least he died with pleasant dreams,' she thought. Whether he died thinking of his younger days, or merely his dear Express family, she would never know. With great tenderness, she smoothed the wisps of gray hair from his wrinkled cheek. Rachel forced a small smile though her face twisted in grief. Teaspoon had met his maker with a smile upon his face.