Chapter Text
Nothing good ever came from a knock on the door. They were established enough around here that it was usually a holler at best, sometimes just walking in if the weather was bad enough. Formal manners were something for city folk and bankers. Neither of which could ever mean good news. After a long, hard day’s work mending fences and mucking stalls and filling troughs he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to deal with that kind of company. Being fourteen meant Alex was old enough to pull his own weight around the place and not need minding. He took that responsibility seriously, which meant putting on a polite face when business came calling.
He shot Jack a look from where he was trying to work the day’s dirt from under his fingernails. She knew more folks than he did, since she took care of the shopping in town and sometimes had ladies stopping by to return a favor or pay back some small kindness. But Jack shook her head with a frown, dipping her hands in the basin and wringing them on her skirts as she bustled into the next room.
“Mrs. Rider?” There was a beat of silence. There hadn’t been anyone to make that mistake in years. A stranger then. Alex quietly grabbed the rifle they kept leaning by the back door and stepped back toward the front room.
“- man of the house?”
“Whatever your business, I can handle it,” Jack firmly said.
Wouldn’t be the first time she’d fed someone that line. Ian was frequently busy and left the running of things to Jack and Big Ben. She handled the house, Ben handled the ranch and they both shared the chore of trying to knock some sense into Alex, which meant they got on surprisingly well.
The man hesitated. “I think this time, it might be something for everyone to discuss.”
Alex saw Jack settle a hand on her hip at that.
Her voice was pinched when she replied, “Ian’s out to town. You’re welcome to wait, but if it’s anything to do with the ranch, Ben’s the Range Boss and I can grab him.”
“I think that might be best, if you wouldn’t mind, Ma’am.”
Jack nodded, “Alex, make our guest comfortable.” She didn’t bother raising her voice for that last part, and Alex winced. He should have known she would have seen him eavesdropping. “He could probably use a drink.”
She marched off in a swirl of linen skirts and red hair that had come un-pinned over the course of the day, leaving Alex to eye the stranger in his home. He had a dusty white hat in his hand, a gleam in his eye, and a brassy star pinned to his chest that caught the light as he settled in.
A Ranger.
“You can sit in there if you’d like,” he nodded to the formal sitting room, “I’ll get you a drink, water fine?” Alex hoped it was, because he’d rather pick him for information before Jack and Ben got back.
“You got anything stronger?”
“We have coffee, I think I can scrounge up some tea somewhere?” The Ranger shook his head with a small smile like he knew something Alex didn’t.
“No kid, I meant...nevermind water’s fine.”
“Water’s fine, then” The man nodded and disappeared into the parlor
Alex turned back to the kitchen, puzzling out the words, it wasn’t until he reached the cabinets to grab a cup that he realized he meant alcohol. Ian had never allowed it on the ranch, let alone in the house even for guests. He swallowed his embarrassment and grabbed down one of the good glass cups they reserved for guests. Alex drained the last of their water-pitcher into it. He’d have to get more from the well before bed tonight unless he wanted to deal with Jack’s broom handle in the morning.
For a dust-coated ranger he sure seemed surprisingly comfortable on the velvet sofa. But maybe Alex was just sensitive, he had never dared lounge on it after the last time he had faced Jack’s wrath about tracking dirt in her house. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Alex, sir.” He handed over the glass warily.
The man took it, and then took a long drink. Alex guessed he’d been riding for a while - the ranch wasn’t exactly close to anything else.
“You part of the help or…”
“No, sir, I’m Ian’s… nephew.” His ward, more like. Ian had never enjoyed being called ‘Uncle’.
“He got any other family around here?”
“Just me.” Alex didn’t like where this was headed: a Ranger showing up on the step was never a good sign, one asking about Ian, still not back from his meeting in town...
“Then you’re the one I need to talk to.” Suddenly the easy-going attitude was gone, and he was leaning forward, arms braced on his legs to peer intently at Alex. “You might want to sit down, boy.”
No, not good at all. Alex steeled himself and said, “I’m fine where I am.”
The man seemed to debate something before sighing and setting his hat on the couch next to him. “Alright, but I ain’t the one scraping you up off the floor.” A pause. “Are you familiar with an outlaw by the name of Cossack?”
The name tickled something in the back of Alex’s mind, one of the million warnings and stories he had gotten from every part of the outfit when Ian had finally let him tag along on one of Big Ben’s drives to Kansas City. “Yeah, some of the men mentioned him, I think? A rustler?”
“He’s dabbled in it before, but he moved on a while ago to bigger, better things - train robberies, bank heists, and lots of killin.”
“If you’re looking for him, he ain’t here,” Alex said, sharp. Ian always had made a point of keeping the ranch clear of trouble, and Big Ben was just as firm. They wouldn’t hire any hands who’d run into the law, or anyone who was hiding from a bad past. With the war so recent, Ian said that it wasn’t worth taking the chance. It meant that the help they had was few, but loyal.
The look he got at that was almost pitying. “I know he ain’t, I chased him out of town today.“
“Then wh - ” the pieces clicked together. Town. Where Ian had been. And where the Ranger had come from without asking for him.
“Is he okay?” Alex demanded.
“Shot dead.” The man sighed again, “I took him to Crawl- ”
Alex didn’t wait for the Ranger to finish, bolting to the door, throwing it open and not bothering to shut it as he tore toward the stables.
Crawley was the town’s doctor, but also the undertaker.
“What’s the hurry, cub?” Hale called from where he was smoking against the barn door. Alex ignored him.
Chelsea wasn’t tacked, but Alex had gotten his horse ready when he was dead tired and frozen through on the drive. Had done it in complete darkness and in the downpour of the rainy season. Even though his fingers were trembling, his eyes stinging, Alex made sure his mare was safe to ride.
Just like Ian had taught him.
Would still teach him.
Because there was no way he was dead.
If he was with Crawley then he would be fine. The Doc was boring as sin to talk to, but a good man and good with his work.
Ian would be hurt, maybe, but not dead.
The Ranger must be confused. The wrong house. The wrong man. He’d never even said Ian’s name. And it wasn’t like the Ranger was from here. A mistake. That’s what this was. Maybe Alex would even run into Ian on the road.
If he wanted to make it he would need to leave now. It was a long ride and the moment Big Ben knew he’d gone off, he would be hot on his heels and none too thrilled.
But Alex had to know. He needed to see for himself. None of the ranch hands would ever let him see the body, if there was even a body to be seen.
Going to town was a full day’s journey when they took their time: letting their horses fall back to a walk when they needed, shoving their noses into the wildflowers to search for the last of the spring shoots. Those trips were some of Alex’s favorite times. Nothing to do but talk with Ian as the sun rose, or chatter on the journey back wondering what Jack had on the stove.
Now, Alex knew there would be no time to waste not with the threat of Ben and Sarge, his gelding, walking him down. He spurred Chelsea into a flat run, head down and hooves hitting the packed ground hard enough to jolt his bones. Alex just leaned over her neck and sucked in ragged breaths.
If there was water on his face, it was only because of the hair whipping into his eyes.
Chelsea held that pace until Alex remembered himself, sitting back up and pulling her down to a lope. Slower, but less likely to burn her out. Just because she’d give it to him, didn’t make it right to run her into the ground. Ian would be furious.
Town came into sight sooner than Alex expected. The sun had long set, and the lit-up windows of the buildings gave him a clear destination. Even with most people asleep, the Doctor always kept a lamp burning.
He barely waited for Chelsea to slow before he was jumping off and slamming through the doors to Crawley’s workshop. It smelled strange, but then again, it always had when Ian dragged him down here for bandages and medicines to keep around the ranch. Alex hated coming then, he hated it more now.
Crawley looked up from a set of books when the door crashed open, but Alex barely even noticed him let alone called a greeting.
He was searching for his uncle, throat closed tight as he peered past the empty pharmacy and glittering bottles to see a pair of sawhorses holding a wooden... box. He couldn’t quite make his brain acknowledge it for what it was. Maybe someone else had gotten caught. Ian could be up in -
“Alex, you shouldn’t be here - ” Crawley stood quickly, moving to grab his arm, but Alex shoved roughly past him. He covered the last of the distance to the box in two strides.
Alex wavered, hand coming down to rest on the rough hewn cottonwood as reality hit him. Ian stared back, grey-faced and bloodied, the shirt Jack had pressed for him that morning wrinkled and dusted and shot full of crimson holes and utterly still.
Not breathing , his mind supplied but he couldn’t quite make sense of what this meant.
He reached out to touch Ian’s cheek, barely enough time to register how cool it felt before a strong arm wrapped around his middle, hauling him back and covering his eyes.
“Let me go !” He shouted. Alex strained and pushed against the body at his back, trying to squirm free because Ian was right there .
“Cub.”
Ben.
Of course Ben had come after him.
Ben, who had never failed to make time for him despite being the Range Boss. Ben who had patiently explained every aspect of the business to him whenever Ian said he was too busy. Ben who had taken the ribbing of the ranch hands about the “cub” who kept following him around without a single cross word to Alex.
Ben who had chased him to town despite the weight of the entire ranch falling onto his broad shoulders.
Alex wanted to do a lot of things, to fight and cry and scream, but most of all he wanted to make this somehow better. And no amount of fussing would fix it. Ben’s arms around him helped the hurt, just a little.
It was enough.
Alex went slack. Ben hugged him closer, not giving any sign that he could feel the tears on his palm.
“Doc.” There was a command there and Alex heard the clattering of shoes on wood and then the thick whump of curtains being drawn shut.
“I’m gonna let you go, alright?” Ben’s tone was soft, gentle with a silent plea for Alex not to bolt again. He nodded and Ben released him. It took a second to regain his footing and Alex wasn’t able to tear his eyes from the curtain and the body he knew lay behind it.
The workshop blurred at the edges again.
“-lex”
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and then Ben was in front of him, blocking his view, saying something but he couldn’t quite process the words as he fought to swallow the lump in his throat.
It wasn’t the time for that.
Now more than ever he needed to be a man.
Be tough.
But his resolve crumbled when a calloused thumb swiped away a stray tear on his cheek. He let out a choked sob and then he was being pulled into Ben’s arms all over again, a hand shoving off his hat, and pulling him firmly into his chest.
The tears came hot and fast, tinged with fear and anger and pain. Shaking his whole body. Ben didn’t say anything just squeezed him in tighter, a comforting hand resting on the back of his head, gently smoothing his hair. He didn’t know how long they stood there for just that it was long after his tears dried out and he was left trembling and aching but eventually Ben loosened his grip and Alex stepped back, unable to bring himself to look Big Ben in the eye. He was supposed to be better than this: grown men didn’t cry when things got rough. He had never seen a single tear run down Ian’s face, not even when they buried his fiancé Ruth. But here he was, crying in front of God and everyone.
Ian was dead.
Ian was dead which meant the ranch was his now.
The livelihoods of fifty men were in his hands and Alex had no idea what he was doing.
He wasn’t ready for this.
No matter how much Ian and Ben had taught him, it had always been for the future and he was still just a kid.
“I can’t do it,” Alex finally whispered through a hiccup.
Ben gently tilted his head up, “It’s okay,” he affirmed. “We’ll get through it, Cub.” He paused for a second, maybe waiting for a nod but Alex couldn’t quite bring himself to agree. “Come on, let’s get back.”
Ben’s hand pressed him towards the door, and then he said, “Joe’ll be by with the wagon to handle the account in the morning.” It took Alex a moment to realize it was meant for Crawley. He should probably get used to people talking above his head. He was sure he’d hear more of it now. The kid of a dead man never got a say, an orphan even less.
He had seen that after Mama died and he was handed over to Ian without a word.
It would be worse now - an orphan twice over with a ranch in his name.
He was the last of the Riders. No one left to come in and save the day.
Everything was on him now.