INFANT CURIOSITIES
By: Rhicy
The heartwarming yells split the mid-morning air as the newest Jones entered the world. Wrapped in the remains of a clean shirt and a spare petticoat, baby Jones lay wailing in his mother's arms, a loose fist shaking in the air as he expressed his disapproval at the rather rude arrival.
A glowing mother crooned softly to her newborn, instinctively rocking and soothing the infant. His men were congratulating a damn proud father, whiskey flowing in abundance. Two weary regulators-turned-midwives smiled at the new mother and son. The only person not celebrating was Earl, who continued to watch the peacekeepers in case they made a break for the horses.
Jones strode eagerly towards his wife and knelt beside her, his grin nearly splitting his face. "Well done, darlin'. He's a fine son. Grow up to be just like his old man."
Gill said sweetly, "Not if I can help it." Her words were tempered by the dazzling smile she sent Darwin's way, the pair smiling happily at each other. Vin shook his head at the doting pair. There was no accounting for some folks. The pair acted like they hated the sight of each other, but the frequent and heartfelt smiles and touches between them, told of a true love - a darn strange one - but a real one.
Still looking in wonder at his son, Darwin addressed his men. "Bob. George. Tie them midwives up. Can't have a pair of ladies like 'em running loose."
Vin sighed as he looked at his still gory hands, but the Texan wasn't given the chance to clean up as Bob pulled him to his feet, roughly restraining the tracker from behind. Tying the rawhide around Vin's wrists, Bob then proceeded to gag him, with his own bandanna. Leaning close to Vin's ear, Bob grunted, "Mr. Jones reckoned y'all should have a taste of your own medicine."
Chris was also gagged, although his hands were tied in front of him. George and Bob sat the friends against the rock wall. The thought that flashed between the pair was mutual. "To hell with the bet. Jones is dead."
The strains of a well-known folk song wafted through the late morning air, the twisted lyrics rising to excruciating heights as the melody warbled from a uncertain baritone.
A flock of startled birds made their escape from the torturing sounds, followed by a family of rapidly departing squirrels as the pair of suffering horses ambled past.
Unheard, a heartfelt prayer was sent heavenward as Ezra slowly followed a tone-deaf Buck. Raising suffering eyes skyward, the young gambler whispered another fervent prayer. "Someone kill me please!"
The shuddering leaves spiraled to the ground, as the troubling group passed, Buck's version of the "Yellow Rose of Texas" making even the bark on the trees curl.
The town jail was, for once, empty save for the three peacekeepers seated around the desk.
"Ya don't think it's anything supernatural?"
"Don't think so, JD. I mean it's the only weird thing happening around here. Don't the supernatural involve more than one thing, you know - like strange lights, and other sounds. This is just a howl."
"A pretty mournful one at that, Nathan. Perhaps JD is right and it's some sort of ghost."
"Or ... or ... It could be somebody pretending to be a ghost! You know, to drive their enemy mad! Or... or... foretell somebody's death ... or ... or ..."
"Well, if it's a 'flesh and blood' ghost, we can deal with that."
"What if it's not?" suggested Nathan.
The open mouthed JD, just about to launch into fresh ideas, suddenly found he had lost his voice. Managing a pitiful squeak, the young man blurted, "A ... a ... real ghost!"
The two older peacekeepers shared an amused look and Josiah tried to re-assure JD. "We're just speculating JD, trying to help you out, that's all."
"I .. I .. don't know 'Siah. I been reading ... I mean ... I heard ... well ... pretty strange things can happen and, well ..."
"This have anything to do with those books you been reading, JD?" Nathan asked intently, his brown eyes focused on the book laying on JD's jacket.
JD went from a sickly white to bright red in a heartbeat and shook his head violently.
"Those stories are just make believe, JD," Josiah said as he patted the blushing kid on the shoulder.
"I ... I ... know. I know!" Before the embarrassed young man could say another word, Nathan started laughing.
Josiah stared at Nathan, waiting patiently for the laughter to die down. While he waited, JD's cheeks got redder.
Finally regaining his breath, Nathan chuckled, "So that's why Casey was laughing so hard a couple of days ago. She said you were a bit skittish all of a sudden and that..."
"Nate!" JD squeaked. Bright red cheeks warmed the now chuckling pair. Josiah rumbled to JD, "Guess you got all involved in one of those stories, and Casey snuck up on ya and ..."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up! It's wasn't funny. She damn near gave me a heart attack! A body shouldn't sneak up behind someone reading. It ain't right!"
"Relax kid. We're just funning with ya." Nathan's smile was sincere as he tried to reassure JD.
"I'm gonna solve this mystery and prove to Cas ... I mean you that reading is not for bab... I mean ... reading helps ya!"
"Look forward to that son."
The approach of three riders towards the sheltered clearing brought the outlaw gang to its feet, weapons drawn. What Darwin Jones saw did not make him happy.
Sean O'Malley, with his cocky mouth and self-assured confidence was riding in like he owned the place. Once the rest of Darwin's gang identified the newcomers, the tension only increased as fingers curled around triggers reflexively. Despite outnumbering the new arrivals, Darwin and his boys seemed defensive, as if the three men now stopped at the mouth of the hollow were creatures to be wary of.
Vin and Chris, watching from the far side of the camp, noticed the building tension. Gill clutched her baby unconsciously and flicked her eyes between Jones and O'Malley, her expression studiously neutral.
"What the hell do you want, Sean?"
O'Malley relaxed as if he were meeting friends on a Sunday ride and about to exchange pleasantries and the latest gossip. Slowly Sean rolled a 'hand-made' and studied Darwin with eyes that glared in stark contrast to his relaxed posture. Hatred bored into Darwin and while the regulators could not see Darwin's face, his tightening posture showed his own aggression.
"Just followin' orders, Darwin. Seems your father-in-law were a mite worried about Gill and her child."
Darwin brushed the air with his hand, as if he could wipe O'Malley's words out of the air. "Everything's fine, O'Malley. So you can leave."
Sean O'Malley's cobalt eyes glanced at the captive regulators and his raised eyebrow made Darwin bristle even more. Refusing to rise to the bait, Darwin tried to stare O'Malley down, but the contest seemed an uneven one. Darwin was the first to break away and demanded loudly, "Just ride back to Fredericks and tell him we'll be home soon."
Shaking his white blonde hair with his Irish lilt, "Canna do that Darwin. Got strict orders to make sure Ms Fredericks is escorted right and proper."
This time the glare sent O'Malley's way was backed up by Vin's Winchester. "That's Mrs. Jones, numskull and you know it! I sure as hell don't need some green Mick ...."
With both groups bristling with testosterone and more than one hand firmly gripping a gun butt, the air sizzled with tension. Before the impending violence could erupt, Gill Jones cut through the mounting tension like a hot knife through butter.
Her small blonde figure stepped between the two groups and her furious glare silenced her husband. Before the smirking O'Malley could blink, he too was treated to a full-fledged glare and a sharp reprimand. "Shame on you Sean O'Malley. Riding in here like some snickering cur, stirring up trouble. Your ma would take you to hand, even as big as you are now, so don't think I won't. And you," Gill caught her now-smirking husband, "Posturing like some overstuffed game-hen. All of you, acting like a pack of street mutts, marking your territory."
Gill moved her silent son in her arms, her voice completely even and calm, save the cutting words, which made both Sean and Darwin wince. "Now I made my choice - a long time ago - and there will be no gloating from you, Darwin Eugene Jones," Gill continued, turning to O'Malley," and no baiting from you, Sean O'Malley. I have had a hard day and I want to rest. So you boys behave and I will tell you when I'm ready to go. All right?"
Delivered in the calmest, soothing tone possible, Gill's words had their desired effect: Two shamefaced men and a chorus of "Yes ma'ams". Striding away, Gill seated herself near the captives and unseen by her husband and one-time suitor, blushed at the wink Vin sent her way.
Still uneasy, the newly arrived outlaws dismounted and joined the rest of Hugh Fredericks' gang. The camp was informally split into three groups. O'Malley's side, Jones' and the captives with Gill forming a neutral island in the middle. But the storm brewing amidst the warning looks, muttered curses and rising hackles had the potential to sweep aside even her calm.
"He still at it?"
"Yep." Josiah nodded, shading his eyes from the sunlight.
"Damn, he really is gonna look under every rock, nook and cranny."
Two pairs of eyes followed the bobbing bowler hat as its owner checked the entire town for clues and answers.
Nathan sighed and said, "JD has more energy than a bumblebee in spring."
Josiah smiled and agreed, "He's even checked the outhouse, three times!"
"Any luck?"
"Well, he's ruled out the supernatural - no other clues apparently, and he's ruled out an animal - no tracks of any kind. He's just about ruled out any living soul, since he has point blank asked practically everyone."
"And now?"
A loud crash within the stable tack room raised a cloud of dust. "Now he's ruling out everything else."
"Sheesh, Ez! What the hell is wrong with Loki? He's dancing around like a spinning top gone crazy!"
Ezra struggled to maintain his seat as his horse whirled beneath him, the whites of his eyes showing, ears back and legs ramrod straight.
"My only guess could be that he, too, is protesting the abuse you have unrelentingly rendered against our defenseless auditory senses."
"Huh?"
Ezra grabbed his hat with one hand and hung on for dear life as Loki bucked again. The agile gambler managed to remain firmly seated and brought Loki under control, reining in the bucking animal. The chestnut stood facing the opposite direction, quivering with excitement.
"He hates your attempt at vocal punishment as much as I do!"
"What?"
Finally loosing his estimable cool, Ezra Standish spun around his agitated horse and shouted, "STOP SINGING, you tone-deaf nincompoop!"
"Oh."
Loki seemed to calm down further as if he realized that Buck was no longer singing. Ezra took a deep breath and patted the chestnut's neck, commiserating with his steed.
Buck, his broad-brimmed hat pushed back off his face was studying Ezra and Loki curiously. Finally grinning widely, Wilmington laughed, "So I guess you two don't want to hear my version of 'Dixie'?"
"No more singing!" Ezra shouted, followed by a dual snort from both horses, including a vigorous headshake from Darling beneath the vocal scoundrel, wiped the smile from Buck's face. Shaking his own head, Buck muttered, "Betrayed on all fronts, Darlin'. You all just can't appreciate talent."
"Mr. Wilmington, any person with the slightest capability of hearing would not consider it 'talent' by any means. Being a captive audience to your vocal styling is cruel and unusual punishment."
The sun was reaching noon as the restless outlaws lay about the little hollow. Darwin and Bob were in deep conversation, occasionally eyeing both O'Malley and the peacekeepers. Sean O'Malley was lying on his back, watching the wind chasing the whispy clouds across the blue expanse. He seemed completely unconcerned and occasionally drank from a small hip flask.
Gill was sleeping on several bedrolls, her blonde head the only visible part amongst the blankets. Darwin had placed himself between Gill and O'Malley, his position clearly possessive. The newborn boy lay in his mother's arms, sleeping peacefully.
The two peacekeepers watched everyone, evaluating their captors and their chances for survival. Only the half-breed Earl was guarding them, and Earl was resting against a tree, his face clearly showing his exhaustion. The blood loss from the bullet-wound in his arm and the subsequent struggle with Larabee had sapped his resources. So Earl leaned against the tree battling the sleep that pulled at him because none of the other outlaws inclined to watch a pair of regulators who would have to go through the camp in order to escape.
Chris moved slightly up the rock that he was leaning against, trying to find a comfortable spot that didn't jab into his arm. The wound needed stitches, but the outlaws had refused Vin's request to tend to Larabee. The uncomfortable gags had been removed when Earl had given the regulators a few paltry sips of warm water.
"Sit still Larabee, else you're gonna open up that wound again," Vin hissed under his breath.
"Too late," Chris whispered, noting the fresh blood staining the dirty bandage.
Vin didn't move, his eyes carefully roaming around the camp, while he worked at his bonds. The dried blood on his hands was actually helping the tracker loosen his ropes, as his sweat mixed with blood, added to the moisture and was making the ropes swell.
Chris slowly turned to look at Earl, and without looking at Vin, whispered, "You know these boys?"
"Heard of 'em." Vin stopped covertly studying the outlaw gang as he felt a strand of rope give way. Focusing on the task at hand, he drawled quietly, "They all belong to the Hugh Fredericks' gang. Only these days, there ain't much of a gang."
Chris had noticed the sudden tension in Vin and pointedly ignored the slight movement of intense concentration, unwilling to draw attention to them. "I heard that the Texas Rangers had pretty much wiped 'em out, about a year ago."
"Yeah, and old man Fredericks disappeared with a few men. It's only been recently that some of the old gang have started robbing agin. A few years before the Ranger's took a special interest in Fredericks, I took in one of his more 'famous' boys. That hombre sure could talk up a storm and I got my ear bent all the way to Texas."
Chris watched Jones glare at O'Malley and asked, "What did you find out?"
Vin felt another strand break and hissed to cover his grimace as another rope tightened in response, "Well, it seems that Fredericks wanted his girl - never found out her name, but I'm guessing it's Mrs. Jones here - to go back East and attend a some finishing school. She was set to marry O'Malley and deadest against goin' back East. So accordin' to ole 'One-Jack' Phillips she ran away."
Chris smiled, fully able to picture the headstrong Gill Fredericks running to escape her father's wishes. "Fredericks musta gone ape."
"Had his boys, and there were a lot of 'em, out searching the territory. Couldn't find her and two weeks later, Darwin Jones - a wannabe outlaw - rode into Fredericks' place and riding right beside him was Gill. Fredericks was so pleased, he offered Jones a place in his gang. One-Jack said that Jones seemed mighty nervous and didn't answer right off."
"And?"
Vin's eyes crinkled in laughter, the rest of his face completely emotionless as he loosened one hand. "Gill apparently clambered off her horse and declared for the whole gang to hear that Darwin was her husband and that she was gonna stay with him. And if her pa tried to send her back East, she'd ride off with Jones. O'Malley and Fredericks both started shouting at the same time and well ... One-Jack said it was a real bang-up argument. But, it all settled and Jones joined the gang."
"So I reckon O'Malley and Jones ain't too fond of each other."
"Nope. And I'm pretty sure that Fredericks couldn't care what happened to Jones. But his little girl ... that's a different matter."
"And we're right in the middle of a feud."
"Not for long, Cowboy."
Chris risked a glance at Vin, and saw the triumph on his friend's face. The message sent between the friends was clear, 'Get ready.'
From across the camp, O'Malley's insolent voice rose, "Don't cha think it's time to take care of those two lawmen, Jones? Never figured ya for the squeamish type."
Jones rose to his feet, Vin's Winchester clutched in his gun hand, "Don't concern yourself over my business, Sean."
"Ahh, don't worry Darwin, I'm sure you'll take care of business ... just like you did with those nosy farmers."
Whatever the incident was, it evoked a heightened tension in Darwin's men and Bob laid a restraining hand on Darwin, who moved towards a sneering O'Malley.
"Best leave it alone, Mr. O'Malley," Bob grunted, his eyes flickering to O'Malley's companions who were standing behind their boss.
Sean O'Malley stopped grinning and glared at Bob and Darwin, his challenge clear. The rest of Darwin's men were on their feet, the stalemate that Gill had interrupted brewing again. Gill slept on, unaware that her husband was about to attack the man her father had wanted her to marry.
"Whatcha waiting fer, O'Malley? You've wanted a piece of me ever since...."
"You've got a mighty high opinion of yourself Jones. I'm not interested in taking on you and upsetting Miz Fredericks. I'm waiting for you to ... take care of business. If you can."
Unwilling to be baited into acting, Jones was, however, reluctant to lose face with his men and so hung between action and inaction for a few seconds. Snarling with frustration, Jones strode towards the regulators, Bob and Howie in his wake. Earl stood as well and moved towards the captives.
Chris glared at the approaching outlaws, but Vin kept his head down, focusing on freeing his last hand. Cocking his pistol, Jones aimed the gun barrel at Vin's bowed head. Bob and Earl covered Chris with their weapons as Jones prepared to fire.
"DARWIN!" Gill shouted, scrambling to her feet. "NO!"
"Stay outa this Gill. It's gotta happen."
At a loss for words, Gill stuttered, "But... but... it ain't right killing on a day when a baby gets born."
"Happens every day, Mrs. Jones," Bob rumbled, his flinty eyes momentarily seeking hers.
"Not today," came the rasped drawl as Vin swung his free hand into Darwin's groin, and snatched the falling Winchester, slamming it into Howie's head. Chris had moved simultaneously with Vin's lightning reaction and took advantage of Bob's distraction to lunge forward and drive his shoulder into the big man's gut, forcing a loud, 'oomph' from the outlaw. Earl moved in to restrain the dark gunslinger only to meet a furious double-fist as Chris gained his feet and swung his bound hands straight into Earl's face.
Darwin rolled helplessly on the ground, moaning in pain as Vin quickly drew Howie's knife and sliced through Chris' bonds. Sean and his two lackey's had rushed into the fight the moment Vin struck Howie. George charged at Chris, roaring as he took down the gunslinger in a full body tackle. Joe attacked Vin, screaming in outrage at Vin's strike at his brother. The Irishman helped Joe tackle Vin, his eyes bright at the prospect of a fight.
As Bob regained his feet and breath, he joined George's struggle with the unusually strong black clad gunman. A sprawling brawl ensued, with fists and knees striking at any exposed flesh. Despite his wound, Chris fought furiously, sending iron fists to connect with any body trying to pin him. The close quarters prevented the use of guns, the fear of hitting a friend a real danger.
The outlaws trying to get hold of Vin, found the task nearly impossible as the wiry tracker twisted his way out of tight corners and used any and all available weapons to cause damage. The fight was lethal in its intensity, screams of pain and anger echoing in the noon air.
Chris sent a battered George Foreman into one of O'Malley's goons, but found his arms caught from behind as Howie grabbed the black-clad gunslinger. Darwin, finally on his feet, sent two vicious blows into Chris' exposed stomach, but soon stumbled backwards, shouting in pain, as a booted foot broke his nose. Chris, using Howie as leverage, had managed to kick out. Howie dropped to the floor, his long frame maintaining its hold on the angry Larabee. Darwin and George charged onto Chris. Larabee let out an explosive grunt as he felt one of his ribs break. Using a well-aimed knee and hard head, Larabee paid the pair back, but was unable to free himself from Howie's hold.
Vin dislocated O'Malley's elbow in a smooth movement, as the Irishman swung at him. Ramming his palm against the exposed joint, Vin taught Sean the folly of overextending his reach. Screaming in pain, O'Malley dropped, clutching his arm, unaware that Bob and Joe had taken advantage of Vin's attack and were now wrestling the wiry young man to the ground. A powerful kick upside Joe's head sent the young outlaw into O'Malley's other goon, who had been struggling to get off the ground.
Despite his best efforts, Vin couldn't shake the mass of Bob on his upper body. Unwashed odors assaulted Vin, and Bob's leering face barely warned him in time, to avoid getting his ear bit by Bob's yellow teeth. Shifting his weight onto his left hip, Vin fumbled at Bob's belt to find his Bowie knife, while his other hand kept Bob occupied by clutching tightly on the bull neck.
Roaring and breaking Vin's grip on his throat, Bob lurched off the struggling regulator. Before Vin could take in a deep breath, the young man found himself fighting for his life, as Bob wrapped a tight piece of rawhide around his throat. Arching his back in an attempt to get to his feet, Vin fought the stranglehold, forcing his fingers between the rawhide and his tender throat. Joe, after separating himself from the ground and outlaw, struck Vin in the chest, forcing more air to leave the desperately oxygen-starved body. Dropping one hand from the killing strip digging into his throat, Vin found a pistol on the ground, and shot Joe as the young outlaw moved to strike again. Bob viciously tightened his pull, Vin gasping desperately even as he shot O'Malley's goon. A rifle butt slammed into Vin's hand, forcing him to drop the gun, and amidst his darkening vision, Vin saw Earl standing above him, a cold look in his icy eyes.
Chris, still struggling with his attackers, had heard the gunshots, and using the surprise to throw Darwin off him, was shocked to see Vin fighting for his life. Only two bright red fingers protecting the tender flesh stood between Vin and certain death. Shouting in fury, Chris tried once again to free himself but George's fist momentarily stunned the gunslinger.
In a co-ordinated movement, Bob and Earl struck. Bob relaxed his pull on Vin's neck briefly and while Vin took an instinctive breath, Earl pulled the obstructing hand out of the way. Bob immediately tightened his hold on the rawhide again. Earl stepped back and dispassionately watched as Bob set about throttling yet another victim. Vin fought desperately, trying to throw his weight backwards and gain some space, but Bob remained firm. Vin's head was swimming with lack of oxygen and it was getting harder and harder to fight, as his arms grew heavy and his lungs screamed for oxygen.
Chris could feel Howie weakening, as the gunslinger sent yet another head butt into the outlaw behind him. Darwin roared in anger and blindly drew his pistol and fired at Chris. Larabee managed to turn slightly and the shot that would have taken him straight in the heart, fired into his left shoulder, snapping Howie back, as the close range poured the deadly bullet into the outlaw's heart. Ignoring the pain of the gunshot, Chris grabbed a rifle and swung it at George Foreman who was raising his own gun. The rifle connected with a bone-shattering thud and George fell to the ground unconscious. Darwin pistol-whipped Chris across the face and as Larabee fell, he noted in shock how desperate Vin's movements were, but Darwin's second blow sent Chris into darkness.
Bob watched his struggling victim, the long brown hair blowing loose in the stirring breeze. The large outlaw saw one hand drop, in exhaustion and knew the fight would soon be over. If he had been able to use his fine gut wire, the tracker would not have lasted this long. By this time, both attacker and victim were on their knees, Bob using his considerable weight and strength, to raise Vin upward slightly off his knees as he tightened the rawhide for the final pull.
Sharp, mortal pain slicing into his gut stopped the outlaw cold. The shock registered on his dirty face as another stabbing pain shot into his abdomen. Slowly, Bob released his hold as a third burst of pain shuddered through him. Bob barely saw Vin's coughing frame drop before him - all he could see was the growing blood pool on his shirt. A flicker of light on metal drew his fading eyes to the bloody knife in Vin's hand. Just before the life drained completely from Bob, bright blue eyes met his dull ones and Bob understood the message. 'Told you I'd get it back.'
Bob Huntley dropped to the ground and Vin dragged painful breaths through his damaged throat into his desperate lungs. So consumed with his need to breath, Vin did not see Earl raise a revolver and point it directly at the tracker.
Ezra reveled in the peace and quiet of the afternoon. All seemed well with the world. He had managed to save a potentially embarrassing situation with the Judge, he was headed for home, a soft feather bed awaited his aching body and Buck had stopped singing.
Ezra was about to extol the virtues of silence to his glum companion when the sounds of a fight stopped him. Screams and shouts echoed over the hills, coming from an easterly direction. The growing noise led the pair of wary regulators straight towards a copse of trees and a rock face. The sound of gunfire spurred the pair on and both Buck and Ezra drew their guns, preparing to aid whoever was in trouble.
Chris struggled to awake, his head aching fiercely. "He doesn't deserve a bullet. It's too good for the likes of him. Let's string him up."
Those words stirred Larabee enough that he was able to resist the hands that pulled him up. "Hey Earl, don't waste a bullet on that pile of crap. Bring him over and we'll string this pair up like the dogs they are."
'Good, Vin's still alive.' Larabee thought as he looked around him. The carnage was impressive, most of the outlaws down for the count and only George, Darwin and Earl still standing. Vin was hunched over his knees, gasping for breath. Sean O'Malley was clambering to his feet, his face red with anger. Clutching his throbbing arm, O'Malley kicked Vin and shouted, "I'll kill you myself, boy!"
Darwin laughed nastily and sneered, "What's the matter Sean, the little buckskin hurt you?"
"He did more than that. Killed Joe, Killain and Bob," Earl said, keeping his revolver trained on Vin. Darwin's face grew stony as he saw Bob's bloody body. "Reckon we should have some fun with the murdering bastard before we string him up next to Larabee."
O'Malley drawled, "For the first time in my life Jones, I agree with you." Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of Vin's hair, raising the still gasping tracker onto his knees. Jones handed the Winchester to George and left him and O'Malley's surviving goon, Francis, to guard Chris. Striding over to Vin and O'Malley, Darwin cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Gill, who had taken herself and her baby to the far side of the camp, shouted, "No, Darwin. Don't!"
As Sean raised his fist, Tanner thrust the sharp blade into O'Malley's thigh. Darwin narrowly missed a deadly swipe that would have gutted him as Vin's reach faltered due to his weakness. Earl hesitated to fire and suddenly dropped to the ground dead, Vin's Bowie knife buried in his throat. Roaring, Sean knocked Vin to the ground and between Darwin and himself, managed to pin the weakened tracker. Chris would have moved to help, but Vin's Winchester thrust into his throat stopped any movement.
Maintaining a chokehold on the already badly bruised throat, Darwin sat on Vin's chest, making it a titanic effort for the ex-bounty hunter to breathe. "Hold him still, Jones. It's pay back time." O'Malley snatched one of Vin's arms, tearing loose Vin's grip on Jones' arm. Pulling Vin's arm away from Jones, Sean set the heel of his boot and maliciously dislocated Vin's shoulder with a sharp twist. The strangled shout of pain from Vin had Chris trying to get up and help, but the cold metal of a gun barrel slamming into his jaw dissuaded him forcefully.
Jones laughed at the tracker's struggles, agony clearly written on Vin's face. O'Malley was moving to the other side of the pair on the ground, about to repeat his revenge with Vin's other arm. A desperate kick from Vin caught Darwin at the back of his head and Darwin screeched in response, shifting his weight on Vin's chest. Using the altered position, Vin was about to toss Darwin off him when a weight descended onto his left knee. Counter-balancing Darwin, Sean prevented the twist and roll.
O'Malley shouted at Darwin, "Hold up there, Jones. I got an idea."
Jones stopped his motion to reach for the bloody knife and saw Sean's intent and grinned evilly. "Do it." Jones shifted a little and allowed Vin to see what O'Malley was about to do. Sean had picked up Earl's revolver and placed the muzzle of the gun on Vin's kneecap. "An old Irish favorite."
"NO!" Chris struggled to free himself, ignoring the gun pointed at him.
Vin's wide eyes took in the sight of the black muzzle forced into his knee and took a deep breath as Sean tightened his finger slowly. The thunder of hooves halted the movement and as Sean and Darwin looked up from their planned maiming, a pair of firing gunmen rode into the clearing. The first two shots took out George and Francis and the third had Sean diving for cover.
Buck and Ezra reined in their steaming horses and immediately dismounted and fired on the remaining outlaws. Sean stepped out of his cover to fire at Ezra and Buck's bullet caught him square in the chest, killing the Irish outlaw instantly. With no returning fire, Buck and Ezra saw that only Vin and Chris were moving.
"Weren't there two of 'em?"
"Yes, I believe there were. Did you happen to see where the second miscreant disappeared to?"
"Nope."
Buck rushed to help Chris to his feet, the gunslinger cursing fiercely. "Hell, Chris, can't you and Tanner go anyplace without needing a rescue?"
"Shut up, Buck."
Buck tried to ease Chris back to the ground, mindful of the bullet hole in Larabee's shoulder, but Chris would have none of that, eager to see how Vin was doing. Ezra had lifted the weak tracker slightly, hoping to ease the young man's breathing and all Vin could do, was take deep shuddering breaths as he obeyed his body's demand for oxygen. Having a hefty man sitting on your chest when all you wanted to do was breath was an experience Vin did not wish to repeat.
Unable to express his thanks, Vin merely closed his eyes and took blissful breaths, no matter how much it hurt his throat. A movement - or more like collapse - near his left side, brought the blue orbs open and Vin saw his best friend refusing Buck's help. As Chris' eyes met blue eyes, the black-clad gunslinger chuckled at Vin's look. "Shut up, Vin."
"Really, Mr. Larabee. Vin did not say a thing."
"And he'll be saying even less if you two make a move!" The sharply shouted words turned three heads in Darwin Jones' direction. Playing possum as a recent corpse had fooled Ezra and Buck long enough for Darwin to snatch up a fallen rifle. Covering the foursome, Jones sidled away to the waiting mounts, his eyes fixed on the lawmen.
"Y'all just stay right there and I'll be on my way." The rifled never wavered and a disheveled Gill Jones emerged from the copse of trees. She joined her husband near the horses and kept her face lowered. Mounting up, the pair was soon ready to leave.
Unable to depart without saying something, Jones spoke clearly across the hollow. "You know you two really had me fooled. First off, I thought y'all were some namby pamby sissies, what with never saying nothing no matter what I said to ya. Then the two of ya wipe out my gang and then some. I should kill ya both now - cept I don't want a posse of lawdogs on my tail for ever. And well - I'm sure we'll meet again someday."
And with those parting words, Darwin turned and left the enclosure, driving the rest of the horses before him. Gill remained a moment and waved a quick thank you before following Darwin. Soon the pair were out of sight and silence again fell on the hollow.
Three rather stunned faces regarded each other, Chris, Buck and Ezra all at a loss as to what to say. As such hearing from the one body not supposed to speak caught all their attention.
"Reckon ... we ... won ... eh, Ez."
The look of horror on Ezra's face sent Buck into peals of laughter. A testimony given, a witness and two men determined to see Ezra fulfill his half of the bet was priceless.
"Now, gentlemen ..."
Four very dusty and tired horses walked into Four Corners. Ezra and Buck were arguing loudly enough for JD and Nathan to make out the occasional word. As they joined the foursome, the argument was forgotten at the sight of Vin and Chris' injuries.
Without too much fuss the wounded pair were escorted to Nathan's clinic, and Ezra and Buck found themselves retelling the story as far as they could gather from Chris. Josiah and JD didn't know whether to laugh or be outraged. All in all, it had been quite an adventure. A baby, a bet and bunch of bandits.
"Are we going to ride after Darwin Jones and his wife?" Josiah asked, leaning against the balcony rail.
"Don't know. We'll wait for the Judge to tell us. He should be here soon," Buck answered, a mysterious glint directed at Ezra, who pointedly ignored the look.
"Oh he's here already. Been waiting for you two to arrive," JD supplied, a slight frown developing as Ezra paled at the news. Shrugging off the apparent attack, Ezra tipped his hat and muttered a quick farewell. The gambler disappeared down the stairs, followed closely by Buck, who had an enormous grin on his face.
JD and Josiah shared a quizzical look and watched the gambler's rapid progress across the street, with Buck not far behind. "Wonder what they're up to?"
JD shrugged and saw Ezra try and change direction when the Judge appeared from the saloon. Unable to avoid the Judge's hello and wave to come over, Ezra reluctantly sidled over, Buck running to reach the pair. A three-way conversation ensued with Ezra seeming to talk very fast, Buck butting in with a few comments and the Judge trying to get a word in edgewise. After 5 minutes of verbal conversation and an eternity of nonverbal fidgeting from Ezra and Buck, the Judge tipped his hat and walked towards the Clarion, giving the still arguing twosome a strange look.
Nathan's arrival onto the balcony tore JD and Josiah's attention from the scene below and each looked at Nathan eagerly.
"They're both gonna be okay. Chris will heal up in a coupla weeks, the knife wound will definitely get feverish and I'll have to watch it carefully. Vin needs a lot of rest and no talking for a good long while."
"Shouldn't be a problem for Vin."
"And I've gotta fix his arm and then wrap it up real good, stop it hurting so much. Josiah, will ya give me a hand?"
"Sure Nate."
"Oh, JD," Nathan suddenly blurted out as the young man turned to leave, "Chris and Vin want ya to make sure Ez don't slither outta town. Seems he finally lost a bet."
JD grinned and tipped his bowler hat as he raced down the stairs towards Buck who was watching Ezra make a hasty retreat towards his room. JD had a lot of questions for the tall ladies' man.
JD once again found himself standing in the middle of the street. His brown eyes glided over the familiar town, trying desperately to find something out of place. But after hours of futile searching, the young man was running out of enthusiasm and ideas.
A loud, "Hey, JD!" startled the kid so badly, he rose up several inches from the dusty ground.
"Will people stop doing that to me!"
A large, friendly arm wrapped itself over his shoulders and Buck's delighted face was thrust into JD's. "Hear that you've been playing detective, kid. Had any luck?"
Mortified that Buck had found out about his efforts, JD blushed and tried to dismiss Buck with a short wave. "Don't know what you're talking about, Buck."
"Oh, I think you do. Should I tell that little fella Steel to come back and write about you, 'The Cowboy Detective'? Or perhaps 'The Kid Sleuth'? Or maybe..."
"Knock it off, Buck, " JD pushed away, trying to escape the scoundrel. A firm hand prevented the escape attempt though, and JD could just picture Buck grinning, "You shoulda come to me for help. Why, I'm a natural detective."
"A defective is more like it," Ezra's Southern drawl fairly oozed off the porch as the gambler entered the saloon. Shooting a cool look in Ezra's direction, Buck opened his arms wide and warmly declared, "Why kid, with my help you'll have this case solved in no time."
Two rather hesitant pairs of legs made their way down the clinic steps. Bandages and stitches in abundance, the two reluctant patients finally reached the ground. Two pairs of eyes scanned the street for Nathan and immediately noted the spectacle outside the general store.
Buck Wilmington was perched precariously on the store roof, trying to reach a bedraggled cat that was hissing and spitting at the determined ladies' man. A small figure, covered in dust and a wide smile, was shouting encouragement at Buck.
"Lean a little more ... yeah ... to the right ... watch out for the claws ... owww... that hurt, Buck?"
"Course it did! Damn fleabag!"
By the time Vin and Chris had reached JD, Buck had rejoined the group. "I told you, Buck, it ain't a cat, or dog, or any animal."
Chris watched as Buck opened his mouth to start arguing and Chris quickly interrupted. "What's going on?"
As if realizing that Vin and Chris were actually present, JD gulped, "Well, last night there was this incredible creepy howl, right through town and no one seems to know what it was … and I been trying to figure it out ...."
"Reckons he's a detective and all," Buck grinned, winking at JD.
"Howl?" Chris asked.
JD nodded vigorously, and proceeded to tell Vin and Chris all about his search. "And then Buck butted in and thinks he can do a better job."
"Hmph!"
Any further conversation was cut off by the Judge's arrival. "Boys."
The four regulators tipped their hats and the Judge continued, "It seems that Hugh Fredericks was caught yesterday heading into New Mexico. The Governor's ordered the army to round up the rest of the gang and if Jones is not caught then, you might be called on to help track him down."
"Thanks, Judge," Chris nodded and the Judge departed heading for the telegraph office.
JD was staring at the Judge and so barely noticed Vin beckoning him nearer. JD sidled up to the wiry tracker and bent close to hear Vin's hoarse whisper. Bright brown eyes darted at the whispered information, and soon JD straightened with a pleased smile.
"Thanks, Vin."
Nodding in acknowledgment, the tracker guided Larabee towards the saloon and the pair disappeared into the shadowed interior.
"What are you so happy about, kid?"
"Nothing. Hey, I'm going over to the Bronson's new place - wanna come?"
Curiosity piqued, Buck followed the smug kid, noting that the wind was picking up. Just as the pair reached the new family's home, a spine-chilling shriek echoed through the street. Buck stood stock still and his eyes darted about nervously.
"What the hell was that?"
JD merely continued walking and climbed the two steps onto the Bronson's porch. Rapping a short knock, the young man grinned at the wide-eyed scoundrel. "Shingles, Buck. Shingles."
Confused, Buck took a step nearer when another howl rent the air. Immediately Buck's eyes went skyward, trying to see the cause when he noticed the roof. A mess of overlapping, warped shingles rattled in the wind sending another howl tearing through the gaps in the roof.
"Shingles, huh?"
"Shingles."
Later in the saloon ....
"You boys really shouldn't be outta bed."
Larabee just tossed another shot back and grimaced as his wounded shoulder touched the wooden chair-back. Vin was slouched in his chair, his hat pulled over his face obscuring the bruises marring his unshaven jaw but not the white bandages wrapped over his raw throat. One arm covered by bandages and a loose sleeve of his hide jacket rested against the slowly rising chest. Vin had taken one look at the cot on Nathan's floor and declared that sitting up would be better than lying down right now. Nathan couldn't argue and had retired to the saloon to watch his stubborn patients.
Both would soon retire, but Nathan felt better with them in eyeball range. Ezra had finally appeared from his room and had delivered the pristine letter to Judge Travis. Buck had closely watched the entire process, but the gambler had given nothing away. The Judge had thanked the pair of regulators and departed on the late stage.
Now, a surprisingly grumpy Standish graced the Seven's table. No cards, cracks, or twenty-dollar words were in evidence. In fact, if Nathan didn't know better, he would think that Ezra was sulking. Maybe he was after having lost his bet with Vin and Chris.
A few pleasant minutes passed with Buck making up for lost time with a willing saloon girl, while Vin and Chris partook of 'pain' medication. Finally a disgruntled snort from Ezra brought six faces in his direction. The gambler was fingering a burnt, wrinkled envelope and had a frown on his face. Everyone could see his mercury mind whirring away at something - something Buck seemed to know from the dopey grin on the scoundrel's face.
"Whatcha got, Ezra?"
JD's question seemed to snap Ezra from his reverie and the gambler muttered, "Oh nothing ... I ... HEY!"
Josiah had snatched the envelope from the con man and frowned at the tattered address and name. It was obvious that the envelope was empty but still, the curious eyebrow raised in the gambler's general direction brought an unusual flush to the Southerner's face.
Buck laughed and said, "Hell Ez. Ya might as well tell 'em now."
"Tell them what pray tell?" Ezra asked innocently.
Looking around the table, Ezra noted the curious faces and sighed, knowing that he would be hounded unless he spilled the proverbial beans. "All right! Mr. Wilmington and I were curious as why the Judge would be receiving a letter from an address ... such as that one ... and in the process of handling the document, the envelope got a bit burnt and well ... I felt that the Judge was owed a ... certain guarantee of safe delivery so I restored the envelope - Without reading the letter -" Ezra glared at Buck and was surprised to see that everyone seemed to believe him, "and well, I was just wondering."
Nathan took the letter and studied the address, his face blank of any recognition, but he nevertheless asked Ezra, "You know this place?"
"No. No. Buck told me that he and Chris had frequented that Kansas City residence a few times."
The sudden spat of coughing from Josiah, Nathan and Chris had JD reaching across the table and snatching the envelope from Nathan. "Huh? I don't get ... why would the Judge get a letter from a friend of Chris and Buck's?"
Josiah laughed and slapped the young man on the back. "That's a real 'polite' way of putting it son. 'Friend!' I like that."
JD suddenly blushed and barely noted that Vin had removed the envelope and had held it for Chris to read. With both arms out of commission, Larabee was reluctant to move at all, well, except to take a few doses of whiskey. Struggling to make out the writing, Larabee frowned and stared at the address.
"I don't ..." without taking his eyes off the envelope, Chris continued, "Buck this ain't Miss Sally-Anne's place. That's on George's Town road, this is from some lawyers .... Buck?" Chris looked up to see the scoundrel, but the tall ladies' man's chair was empty, a loud "Woo Hoo HOO!" echoing down the boardwalk as Buck made his escape. Ezra's face was a mixture of horror, anger, shock, and amazement.
Disconnected words were stumbling out of the flabbergasted gambler. "He knew ... he knew ... he conned me. ME! Damn ... well ... I ... DAMN! That bet ... the bet..."
A sharp nudge from Vin had Chris laughing and adding to the gambler's consternation. "Yeah, Ezra, what about our bet?"
If a man could go from bright red to snow white in a heartbeat, then Ezra managed it. Eyes starting out on stalks the out-conned con man exploded out of his chair and raced out of the saloon. Not even the banging doors could mask the outraged shout that filled the mainstreet.
"BUCK WILMINGTON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
Five friends chuckled at the answering, "Hoo HOO!" and JD scratched his head bemusedly. "Did Buck outfox Ezra?"
"Yep kid, he sure did."
"Damn."
Five glasses clinked in a toast to the gambler who had taught too well and was now up to his neck in shi.... well to be polite and use a word Ezra would be more comfortable with ... merde!
The end.
