The Ties That Bind

Author's Note: I want to say a special "Aho" to Melanie-otherwise known as "Wind in His Braids" or "Lover of the Bald-Mute Wearing Suspenders"-for all her help in the creation and writing of this story. May all of your wildest TYR dreams come true!

Buck and Noah had decided to follow the most direct route back to the last way station at South Pass, but that strategy was proving futile. After three hours of hard riding, they remained empty handed. Wherever McMasters and his horse had parted ways, it was nowhere near the most well-traveled route.

The sun began to dip in the west and Noah felt a welcome coolness rise up from the earth as evening approached. He breathed it in gladly, then glanced over at his friend. Buck sat quietly in his saddle-his dark eyes trained out somewhere beyond the horizon. Even as Noah stared at him, Buck's face remained expressionless. They'd ridden like this for almost three hours and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Noah liked Buck, but wasn't always comfortable with his moods. He was especially uncomfortable with this mood in particular. When Buck fell silent for long spaces like this-obviously lost in his own grief-Noah felt powerless to help. And powerlessness was not a feeling he relished.

These moods had hit more frequently since Ike passed. For his part, Noah could hardly understand what kind of friendship those two had shared; one so deep and full that now, with Ike gone, Buck seemed only half alive. Ike was Buck's best friend. Noah could only imagine how much they had gone through together in the days before he'd met them. Noah could understand the isolation that Buck must have been feeling without Ike around to stand up for him against constant social prejudice. He couldn't help but think that now Buck was paying a heavy price for that friendship-a price no one should have to pay.

The more Noah mulled it over, the more the silence got under his skin. "Buck, you see anything that might give us a clue about this rider? Feels like we've been ridin' around in circles for hours. I'm about ready to give up."

Noah hadn't expected a reply, but was pleasantly surprised to finally hear Buck's voice. "I think there might be something up ahead," he said.

"If there ain't, you're gonna owe me one for followin' you all the way out here with no lunch!" Noah joked.

Buck eyed his partner carefully. Then he smiled. "You sound just like Cody."

Noah snickered-relieved to see Buck becoming his old self again. Suddenly, he spied something out of the corner of his eye. "What do you suppose that is?"

Over to the left of them lay a relatively rocky area dotted here and there with weedy shrubs and stumpy trees. A dark lump, which Noah, in the waning light, first thought was a rock, proved to be otherwise.

The two dismounted and began probing the area. It was McMasters. His back was riddled with arrows and bullet holes. Part of his scalp was missing. Noah noticed that the mail pouch was nowhere to be found.

Buck plucked out one of the arrows and studied it carefully. He then scanned the ground with a deft eye. Noah saw him sigh in frustration as his face went white.

"It was Indians, wasn't it?" Noah ventured.

Buck took a moment to regain some composure. "I don't know," he said finally. "Looks like he was killed and then dumped over here. The ground's too rocky to know how many horses there were-but I'd say no more than five." He glanced down at the bloody arrow clenched in his fist. "Looks like Kiowa-but it don't make sense. They just signed a peace treaty."

"Its getting dark, Buck," Noah said as he felt that uncomfortable silence begin to rise up between them once more. "We better head back to town and tell Teaspoon what we found."

"You go. I want to head out to the way station at South Pass and see if the station master might be able to give us some information to work with. I'll meet you back at the express station later." Buck tugged hard at his horse's reigns. "I think its safe for us to split up."

Noah knew enough not to argue with Buck when he got determined to do something. He nodded in compliance, then mounted up and spurred his horse in the direction of Rock Creek.