TO BE YOU
By: Lady Angel
Edited by: Dina and Karen
Guest Star:
Yancy Butler as Suzanne
Paul Guilfoyle as Ed Matthews
Glen Morshower as Benjamin Kilgore
"Where's Chris?" Vin asked as he slumped down into a chair, eyes surveying the other saloon patrons. He smiled a 'thank you' at Inez as she placed a long neck before him.
Buck grinned at Inez before turning a slightly more mischievous smile to his friend. "With the lovely Miz Travis."
"Somethin' 'bout learnin' more 'bout the newspaper business," Nathan said, his eyes dancing with merriment.
All three men smirked.
She was trying, she really was. But it was absolutely no use. There was just no way on God's green earth that she could concentrate with a six foot something, black clad gunslinger sitting not five feet away and staring at her with those intense eyes. Mary threw her hands in the air, sighing in defeat.
"Mary? Something wrong?" Chris' quiet question was the first thing he had said in an hour. He placed the coffee filled cup down on Mary's desk in anticipation of trouble.
Mary whirled around, hands on hips. "Yes! I can't work!"
Chris gave her his trademark half smile. "And why is that, Mrs. Travis?"
Mary threw him a glare worthy of Chris himself.
He grinned widely. While not vain in any way, shape, or form, Larabee knew he was hard to ignore and having this particular woman admitting that he was distracting. . . . .
She groaned at his completely male smile but wasn't wholly successful at hiding her own smile. "That's it! Out! Now!"
The rogue turned puppy dog eyes at her, placing his hand over his heart.
Mary shook her head, trying her best not to laugh. The notoriously dangerous gunslinger Chris Larabee was giving her the puppy dog look!
"Do you really want me to leave?" He came to stand behind her.
Mary sighed, leaning towards his heat. "No, but I have an appointment."
"Really? With who?"
Mary threw a trouble-making grin over her shoulder. "Oh, no one too special . . . but he'll be here soon."
Chris' reaction was immediate – the tensing of his body behind hers and the low growl. "Who?"
Mary laughed. "Why, Mr. Larabee, are we jealous?"
"Miz Travis?" Vin's call was promptly followed by his knock on the office door.
Mary laughed even harder at the exasperated frown on Chris' handsome face. "Hello, Vin!"
Vin hesitantly stepped into the newspaper office, then froze. It was obvious that he was interrupting his best friend and his lady. "I'll come back later," Vin murmured quietly, already taking a step back.
"No, it's all right, Vin, Chris was just leaving." Mary tilted her head back, smiling at the now relaxed gunslinger.
"Nah," Vin shook his head. "We can do this another -- "
"No, Vin," Chris said, giving Mary a chastising glare. "You and Mary need to finish 'Usher', can't just leave in the middle of a story like that."
Vin smiled shyly at his friend. "You like that story?"
Chris, who had been shrugging into his coat, paused with a grin. "Poe's one of my favorite writers." His smile turned slightly sad. "Sarah loved 'The Bells'." He laughed. "I hated that poem. . . all those 'bells'."
Vin shared his friend's small chuckle. "Yeah, just finished that poem last week." He glanced over at Mary and saw the misty smile on her lips. This was one of the few times they had witnessed Chris remembering his dead wife with only a little sadness. "Hey, cowboy?"
Chris was pulled from his memories. "Yeah?"
"Wanna stay?" Vin blushed. "My readin's ain't that good yet, but maybe . . ."
Chris' smile was nothing but encouragement. "Sure, Vin."
"I have an idea," Mary said with a smile at the two men, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Since I can't seem to concentrate today." Her emphasis and pointed glare made both men laugh. "Chris, why don't you help Vin with his reading today?"
Her suggestion seemed to startle both men but they shared a glance before both simultaneously moving to the desk. Mary was still struck by the uniqueness of their silent communication. It was a marvelous thing to observe. She smiled, putting aside the thought for later. Now, the newspaperwoman sat down, ready to simply relax, letting Chris' and Vin's soothing voices float about her.
Josiah put down the hammer, wiping the sweat from his brow. He smiled in satisfaction -- another pew was nearly finished. He wandered into the night, enjoying the rare fresh breeze blowing through the street.
A strange muttering caught the ex-preacher's ears.
Josiah frowned as he followed the sound to its source. His eyes widened at the sight. "Mr. Matthews! No!"
"Stay out of this, Preacher!" The rancher took a step back further into the shadows behind the church, the gun never waving from his own temple.
Josiah held his hands out before him, his voice as soothing as he could make it. "Please, Mr. Matthews, put the gun down."
"Why should I? There's no damn point!"
Josiah inched forward. "Tell me, Mr. Matthews, maybe I can help."
The old man vehemently shook his head. "I worked my whole damn life for that place! My whole damn life! All I wanted to do was make a decent place for my family!"
"I know that, Ed." Josiah switched to the ranting man's given name, trying to connect with the distraught man. "Why don't you put the gun down, then we can sit down and talk about it."
"Damn banker! Just can't wait two more goddamn days! Nooooo! Has to have the money now!"
"What money, Ed?" Josiah was only two feet away now.
"Just two more days. . . that's all I need! Two more!" Matthew started to cock the gun.
Josiah jumped, catching the gun's cylinder. The burn in the palm of his hand didn't stand a chance against the preacher's relief. He caught the now sobbing man.
His voice was soft, deep, and understanding. "Let's sit down, brother."
"You were right, she is perfect."
The taller blonde smiled with pleasure as her young protégé bounced with excitement. "I'm glad you like her."
"She's soo pretty! And him!"
The older woman froze. "Him?"
The young brunette nodded. "He's so strong and handsome! I love him already!" she said dreamily, the image of the black clad peacekeeper and blonde-haired newspaperwoman walking down the boardwalk appearing in her mind.
The older woman made agreeing noises as she slowly picked up a brush. She began brushing the long brown hair, forcing her hands and voice to be gentle. "He'll be yours, my dear. But first you need to take care of her."
Suzanne smiled dreamily. "I will. I'll take care of her very soon."
Ella nodded indulgently. 'Yes, you take care of Mrs. Mary Travis, and then I'll take care of you.'
Josiah slowly lowered himself into the chair by Nathan's side, smiling a greeting his friends.
"Tired, Josiah?" JD asked, pushing a glass towards the older man before turning back to his dinner.
"Not as young as I used to be, JD." Josiah sipped the amber liquid appreciatively. Smiles broke out around the table. He took another sip before turning serious eyes to the men before him. "Ezra, I need your help."
The southerner stilled the cards in his hands. "How can I help, Preacher?" The smile turned into a roguish grin. "And what do I get out of it?"
"Saving a man's life good enough?" Josiah's smile was grim. That got everyone's attention.
"What's goin' on, Josiah?" Nathan leaned forward, not sure why Josiah would need Ezra's help.
"Ed Matthews, he owns the spread south of town." Josiah stopped when he saw the nods. "He tried to kill himself tonight."
Surprised exclamations sounded from several voices.
Josiah continued. "He's going to lose his spread because he owes the bank money. A lot of money."
Ezra leaned forward. "How much money does Mr. Matthews owe?"
Josiah inhaled deeply. "A thousand."
JD whistled, while Nathan sat back in shock.
Ezra was wide eyed. "Josiah, even if I were inclined to lend out money – which I'm not – I do not have that kind of money."
Josiah ran his hands through his hair. "Well, that's the thing, Ed's got most of it already. He just needs a day or two to get the rest of it."
"So what's the problem?" Nathan poured himself another drink. It sounded like this was going to be a long discussion.
"The banker won't give him the extra time." Josiah snorted. "Hardnose bastard can't hold off a day or two. . . has to have the money by Thursday."
"And Mr. Matthews needs only two more days to gather his funds?"
Josiah nodded. "Can you help him, Ez?"
Ezra leaned back into his chair, silent as he played the deck in his hands. The others watched in anticipation as the conman did what he did best. . . scheming. The slow dimpled smile had everyone else smiling in return.
The four men leaned forward, already plotting.
Standing in the darkened bedroom, she listened for a few to the sounds of the town as it settled in for the evening before turning her attention back to the wardrobe before her. She trailed fingers over the delicate fabrics, savoring their lushness. Her eyes hungrily absorbed all the information she could, filing it away for future use. She took her time because she knew that the house would be empty for quite a while. Her smile was dreamy as she slipped on the deep wine gown, twisting her hair up into a bun before moving to look at herself in the moonlit mirror. She frowned, noticing that her hair was the wrong color.
That would have to be remedied.
"Mother? May I borrow a moment of your time?"
Maude smiled up at her son. "Well, of course, mah sweet boy."
Ezra smiled as he seated himself, getting ready to sell the idea to his toughest critic. "Mother, I know you've been . . . restless here in Four Corners --"
"Ezra, sugar, are you trying to get rid of me already?" Maude calmly dealt the cards, not letting her hurt show.
"Actually, Mother," Ezra sighed, knowing with the intuition of a son that he had hurt her. "Do you remember the time you helped us catch Stephan Travis' killers? How you help set up Mr. Wheeler so beautifully with the lynching mob?"
Maude smiled. "Well, of course, I do! It was nice working with you again."
Ezra grinned. "How would you like to help again?"
Maude raised a brow. "Ezra, mah boy, I do believe I've done my good deed for the month by warning you about that Perkins woman."
Ezra's grin grew. "You mean you wouldn't be interested in conning a banker into believing that tomorrow is today?"
"Well, that was an enjoyable evening!" Evelyn Travis smiled down at Billy, as he walked energetically between his grandmother and grandfather.
"Yes, thank you, Chris, for treating us to that nice dinner." Judge Travis looked over his shoulder.
Chris nodded, guiding Mary around some tumbleweed. "My pleasure, Judge."
Mary unlocked the Clarion's doors. "It's a shame you can't stay longer."
Evelyn laughed quietly. "A judge's life is never boring, nor stationary."
Travis huffed. "Neither is a judge's wife's life." He turned conspiratorially to Chris. "She just wants to get back to Eagle Bend in time to judge the quilt making contest."
Everyone laughed as Evelyn mockingly slapped her husband on the arm.
"Oh!" Mary exclaimed. "I have something for you." The Travises, Billy, and Chris watched as Mary hurried up stairs.
Travis rolled his eyes. "Probably her entry for the contest."
Chris hid his smirk in Billy's hair.
"CHRIS!"
Billy was quickly passed to Travis as Chris flew past them and up the stairs. "Mary!" He skidded to a stop inside her bedroom. Running his eyes quickly around the room, Chris noticed the rumpled bedspread and items strewn on the floor. He grabbed her, pulling her away from her wardrobe. "What is it?"
Mary drew in ragged breaths. "Someone's been here."
"But, Ma!"
"No, Billy, you have to --"
"But I want to stay with you and Chris!" Billy clung tightly to his mother's skirts, refusing to go to his grandmother's outstretched arms.
"Billy." The one word was a compelling order and the little boy reluctantly obeyed it. He released Mary's skirts to stand in front of Chris' long legs, his eyes never lifting from the spur-adorned boots.
Chris gently picked up the young boy, tipping his chin up so that he could see the tear stained face. "Your ma needs you to be safe, Billy."
"But, Chris!"
"No 'buts', Billy. You're going to go with the Judge and your grandma. When this is all over, me and the boys will come get you."
Billy stayed silent and still in the gunslinger's arms.
Chris sighed as Mary rubbed a soothing hand on her son's back. "I'll miss you, Billy."
Mary nearly sobbed as Billy almost suffocated her as he hugged her tight. Chris got the same treatment before he placed the little boy into the stagecoach.
"Chris."
"Judge." Larabee shook the hand that his boss offered. "If you need . . . ."
The judge nodded. "I know, I remember." The two men had worked out a telegraph code in case of emergencies. Both hoped that they wouldn't have to use it.
Billy waved good-bye until he couldn't see his ma or Chris any longer.
Mary stifled a sob, leaning into Chris' side.
"It had to be done, Mary."
"I know, but I'm going to miss him so much."
Chris nodded, tightening his arms. "It's only until we find out who's been pretending to be you." He had been worried about Billy's safety ever since Nathan's trial, when Lightfoot told them about the woman pretending to be Mary had approached him. And then when Mary discovered several missing items from her closet this morning, it was the last straw. Sending Billy with the Judge and Evie had been the only way to keep him safe.
Mary nodded, understanding the necessity, but it didn't make her feel any better.
Maude smiled genially at the tall, stocky man behind the desk. "Mr. Kilgore, you are too kind to see me on such short notice."
Benjamin Kilgore smiled. "It is my pleasure, Mrs. Standish. Please have a seat. How can I help you?"
Maude's smile grew. "Well, sir, it seems that I am going to need to open an account. . . a rather large account. And I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about how to open one here."
Kilgore's smile was gentle – the kind one used for someone too simple to completely understand. "Mrs. Standish, perhaps we should include your son in this matter?"
Maude's smile never wavered. 'You oily little snake! I know more about money than you'll ever hope to learn!' "Oh, but Mr. Kilgore, Ah'm sure you could tell me everything Ah would ever need to know! A man of your obvious business acumen could surely explain it to li'l ol' me." She winced at the over the top 'southern belle' act but she continued to let her accent deepen. Maude was delighted that her perception of his gullibility was so accurate.
Kilgore preened. "Why, of course, Mrs. --"
"Please, call me 'Maude'." She smiled again, leaning forward just the tiniest bit.
Kilgore appreciatively took in her feminine form, encased in flattering deep violet silk. "Perhaps we can continue to discuss this matter over lunch?"
She smiled. Perfect! "Why of course, Benjamin – may Ah call you that? That would be lovely!"
Chris slid into his chair, nodding gratefully at Vin as he handed him a shot.
"Billy and the Travises okay?" Nathan asked, finishing the last of his lunch.
Chris nodded. "Ain't too happy, but at least he'll be safe."
The six other men nodded in agreement.
"So any idea who the woman was?" Josiah asked quietly.
"Not yet." Buck leaned back into his chair, watching Ezra.
The southerner was currently alternating between eating his lunch and watching the front doors.
Buck's impatience won out. "Waitin' for somethin', Ez?"
Ezra glanced up, surprised to see all of his friends watching him closely. Three of them out of curiosity, three others for his lead.
He smiled reassuringly. "Just for my mother, gentlemen, just for my lovely mother."
Chris studied his men and saw the looks of relief on the faces of Nathan, Josiah, and JD. He glanced over at Vin and Buck. His oldest friend's face was slightly confused, but he seemed to shrug it off.
Vin, on the other hand, wasn't buying it. The tracker raised an inquiring brow. Chris slightly lifted a shoulder. Vin nodded with a slight smile.
They would let sleeping dogs lie.
Maude sighed. 'And Ah am doing this why? For Ezra, of course.' Kilgore continued to drone on and on about the banking business. In the less than thirty minutes, Maude had concluded that Kilgore was the most unimaginative, procedure bound man on the face of the earth.
"Maude, my dear, would you excuse me a moment? I see an associate I must speak to."
Her smile was, quite frankly, brilliant. "Of course, Benjamin."
She sighed in relief as her unwanted dining companion left the table. Maude glanced around once before emptying the vial's contents into his wineglass. 'Mr. Jackson, I sincerely hope this concoction of yours works.'
"I'm sorry about that, my dear. It is never ending, you know."
Maude's smile was triumphant as Kilgore drained the glass.
"Hey Vin!" JD greeted his friend. He had drawn the evening's town patrol and had just finished his rounds.
Vin tipped his hat in greeting, meeting JD halfway. "Everythin' quiet?"
JD sighed a bit sorrowfully. "Yep, as a church mouse."
Vin stilled, movement catching his eye. He quickly straightened. "No, it ain't."
JD turned and saw the shadow moving about in the upstairs Clarion window. He shrugged. "It's just Miz Travis doin' some late work."
"Jus' saw Miz Travis havin' supper with Chris at the hotel," Vin said, pulling the Winchester as he crossed the street, JD following close behind. Vin tried the door, finding it open. Cautiously the two men searched the lower offices, finding nothing. At Vin's inquiring brow and pointed look up, JD nodded. Both men had their guns primed and ready as they silently crept up the stairs. Mary's room was still and silent as the night, only the fluttering of the lace curtains disturbing the early night air.
"No one here," JD breathed out in relief.
Vin crouched down on his hunches, carefully examining the floor. "Someone was."
JD came up from behind Vin, looking over the tracker's shoulder, watching as he pointed to the slightly muddy imprints. JD's eyes narrowed. "A woman?"
Vin nodded, a pleased little smile on his lips. "Go git Chris. Tell him I'm trackin' her."
JD wavered, not waiting to leave his friend without help.
Vin saw his hesitation. Smiling in reassurance, he nodded towards the door. "Go on, JD. Don't worry 'bout me."
JD nodded, hurrying out the door.
Chris glanced up from the long arrow marked into the dust. "Vin say anything, JD?"
"No, sir," JD shook his head.
"Buck, JD, Ezra, mount up. Josiah, Nathan, make sure that Mary isn't alone."
Josiah and Ezra exchanged swift glances. "Actually, Mr. Larabee," Ezra's drawl halted all movement.
Chris swung his black around, pinning the Southerner with his eyes.
"If at all possible, Mr. Larabee, I would like to remain here."
Chris sighed. "Ezra, I need -- "
"I'll go, Chris." Nathan volunteered, exchanging quick looks first with Josiah, then with Ezra.
Chris studied the three men from his lofty position. He knew they, along with JD, had been up to something. But now wasn't the time to question them. He nodded and wheeled his mount around following the visible trail Vin had left marked.
"Damn, he's heavy!" Ezra grunted quietly, as he dragged Kilgore into his bedroom.
"Here, let me, brother." Josiah easily hefted the man before gently depositing the banker in bed.
Maude smiled. "I always did love a strong man."
Ezra silently groaned and rolled his eyes as Josiah sent his mother a blinding smile. 'God, save me!' "Back to business, Mother."
Maude leaned over the slumbering man. . . he was dead to the world. "Well, that concoction of Mr. Jackson's certainly did the job. . . I wonder if he would be so kind as to --"
"Mother!"
Maude rolled her eyes, then smiled when Josiah winked at her. "Josiah, I trust you can take care of things here?"
Josiah nodded with a smile. "I am merely a foot soldier following his lovely general's orders." He sketched Maude an informal bow. Maude, ever the consummate lady, curtsied with a mischievous smile.
"Oh, good Lord!" Ezra couldn't stand it anymore and dragged his mother out of the room, leaving Josiah to his work.
"So y'all want us to lie?"
Ezra sighed. "Not exactly. Think of it as. . . misinformation."
Casey Wells tentatively raised her hand. "A what?" She and Aunt Nettie had ridden in for dinner when they had heard about the town meeting.
Ezra sighed. . .again. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are not asking for much – only that you help us with this small -- "
"Con." Mr. Weston voice was challenging. The mayor of Four Corners didn't want anything to do with this mad scheme and made his position very vocal.
Maude smiled persuasively. "Yes, it is a con." Sometimes the truth did work better than lies.
"And why should we help you?" A man's voice from the back shouted.
"Actually," Mary said, appearing by the Standishes' sides along with Ed Matthews. Mary's presence lent an air of respectability to the proceedings. "You would be helping Mr. Matthews."
At that, many people stirred. Ed Matthews was a nice man. . . one of the first settlers in the area.
"What's goin' on, Ed?" Yosemite, the blacksmith said.
Quietly, with humbled pride, the rancher told his peers. And then waited.
Weston was the first to speak. "We understand your problem, Ed -- "
"And we would be glad to help!" Mrs. Weston smiled at Mrs. Matthews, while Nettie emphatically nodded. The three women had been long time friends.
Murmurs of agreement sounded throughout the crowd.
"Thank you," Matthews said. Both he and his wife were visibly moved by the town's generosity.
Kate Matthews hugged Abigail Weston, while Mr. Weston simply threw his hands up in the air. Sometimes, he felt as though the role of mayor of Four Corners was simply to be a figurehead; more often than not, it was one of the seven peacekeepers that ran the show. "So," he said. 'If you can't beat them. . . ' "What do you want us to do?"
Maude and Ezra smiled.
JD looked up from the ground. "He's still pointin' north."
"Must be headin' for the mountains," Buck mused. "Lots of places to hide there."
Chris nodded, then urged his mount into a slow canter. Silence reigned until he broke it. "Anything you boys want to tell me?"
JD and Nathan exchanged swift glances.
Buck looked back, a small smile on his lips . . . nothing got by Chris.
"What d'ya mean, Chris?" JD asked cautiously.
Their leader slightly turned in his saddle and even in the waning light, his expression was clear.
"Don't worry about it, Chris," Nathan assured his friend. "We ain't doin' anythin' illegal."
"Not what I'm worried about, Nate."
The sheriff and the healer grinned at each other.
"Mary, my dear, how is that paper coming?" Ezra breezed into the Clarion, a smile lighting his face.
Mary laughed while Casey giggled. The man was certainly in his element. "It's going fine, Ezra."
Ezra glanced over the newspaper in her hand. With an approving smile, he noticed that while the date stayed the same, the events were different. "Perfect!" His every movement was infused with energy and excitement.
She couldn't help it, she laughed again. Ezra loved his role as master puppeteer. "Why, thank you, Mr. Standish!"
With a roguish grin, he swept her a courtly bow before rushing out the door.
Mary and Casey returned to their work with easy laughs.
Ezra quietly breezed into Kilgore's office. "How is it proceeding?"
Josiah grinned. "Take a look, Ez."
The southerner moved forward, studying Josiah's handiwork. The new calendar, courtesy of Mrs. Potter, had replaced Kilgore's old one, and now had the 'correct' date showing. Kilgore's secretary, Benson, had rearranged his boss' schedule accordingly and was helping Josiah create the necessary illusions.
"I've got his Wednesday meetings all rescheduled for tomorrow and all of his Thursday meetings set for Friday," Benson said, nervously awaiting Ezra's judgement.
"And I made sure everything at his house has been changed too," Josiah added in.
"Perfect!" Ezra grinned. "Just perfect, gentlemen. Now, let us go see how Mother is doing." They found her presiding over several of the townspeople in the saloon.
"Inez, my dear, you have a Wednesday special, don't you?"
Inez and Maude shared similar smiles. "Si, Senora."
Maude nodded, then turned. "Now, who else?"
Mrs. Potter hesitantly raised her hand. "Well, every Wednesday, several of the ladies and I have our sewing circle meeting."
Maude beamed. "Perfect! Can you organize it?"
The widow nodded determinedly.
"Good, good!" Maude smiled once more at all the townspeople assembled. "Remember! Act as you always would for any normal day! The only thing that changes is that you must remember that tomorrow is Wednesday! Otherwise, nothing else changes! Is that clear?"
Nods from everyone had Maude dismissing her 'class'.
She turned to see her son in the doorway and smiled. "Just like the old days, mah darling."
Ezra flashed a dimpled smile and rubbed his hands together with glee. Everything was falling into place.
Simultaneously, Chris and Buck pulled up short, hearing another horse. Then a single, familiar trill sounded. They all relaxed.
"Anything?" Buck asked as Vin rode up.
He shook his head. "Nope, too damn rocky. Got halfway to that ledge there." Vin pointed to the Northwest side of the mountain where an outcropping was still visible despite the light. "Then lost her trail."
"Her?" Nathan asked. "You sure it's a woman?"
"Unless it's one of them funny cowboys," Vin grinned, while the others chuckled. "It's a woman."
JD frowned. "But why would some woman be after Miz Travis?"
"Well, kid," Buck said, wheeling his horse back towards home. "Maybe Miz Travis wrote somethin' that pissed her off."
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why she's goin' around pretendin' to be Mary." Nathan pointed out. "Like going to Lightfoot's hotel room."
"To ruin her reputation, maybe?" JD chimed in.
The older men nodded – it made sense.
"Hurry, Nate!" JD flew from the jailhouse, running for his horse.
"Wait a damn minute, JD!" Nathan was still struggling into his coat.
"We gotta get goin' or we'll miss it!"
"Kid! That stage don't move more than at a snail's pace!"
"NATE!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
The two riders shot off, never once glancing around the already busy town.
"There it is!" JD's excited shout had Nathan spurring on his mount.
"Woah!" Both peacekeepers raised their hands, showing the driver and his shotgun-wielding partner that they meant the coach no harm.
"What do you need, Sheriff?" Albert Finnigan, the driver, finally recognized the two Four Corners' lawmen.
JD grinned. "Gotta talk to your passengers."
Finnigan nodded. "Sure."
Chris and Vin exchanged glances as they watched all the activity buzzing about them. People rushed to and fro, changing signs and wares in windows. The two men recognized the usual trappings for a Wednesday. . . even though it was Thursday.
"What the hell is goin' on?" Chris raised an eyebrow as he watched Inez change the breakfast menu. . . it read "Wednesday Special – Two bits!"
"No idea, cowboy," Vin said quietly. "Maybe we should go ask one of the others?"
"Don't bother!" Buck's voice said from behind them. "Already asked the kid."
"Well?" Chris had to jump back as two men rushed past him – carrying what looked like the hotel's bathtub – the one that was set up only on Wednesdays.
"Ezra, Josiah, JD, and Nathan – and the whole damn town – are conning Mr. Kilgore into believin' that today's Wednesday." Buck grinned widely, thinking of all the fun he could have with it.
"Why?" Vin smirked at the idea – he didn't even care what day it was most times. Why bother? All he needed to know what season it was. . . that way he would know which leather jacket to wear – the light one or the heavy one.
Inez watched covertly as Benjamin Kilgore seated himself at an empty table. With a nod at Celia, the serving girl, she headed towards the banker. "And what can I get for you, Senor?"
Kilgore never glanced up from his papers. "The special, Inez."
She smiled. "Of course, Senor."
Moments later, Inez placed his breakfast on the table.
Kilgore looked at it with surprise. "Ms. Rosillos, I asked for today's special."
"Si, Senor, and here it is." Inez gracefully swept her hand across the fare.
Kilgore shook his head. "No, this is Wednesday's special. I want today's special."
Inez frowned. "Senor, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Kilgore huffed. "Why?"
"Senor," Inez's voice was the perfect blend of concern and patience. "Today is Wednesday."
Kilgore gapped at her in confusion. He could have sworn it was Thursday. The banker glanced over at all the other saloon patrons, noticing that except for a few custom orders, most everyone had the Wednesday special. He swallowed. "Ah, well, thank you, Ms. Rosillos, I must have been mistaken."
Inez nodded before returning to the bar. With a giggle and a smile, Celia flounced off to inform Ezra.
"I ain't never had a lady before," the cowboy said, biting down on her shoulder, his meaty paws grabbing her body.
"Well, here's your chance, cowboy," she whispered in his ear, leading him backward towards the bed.
He suddenly stopped. "This ain't gonna cost me nothing, right?"
"That's right, darling, I don't want anything from you -- "
"Good."
"Except one thing. . . ."
He frowned with suspicion. "What?"
"I want you to say my name. . . over and over again."
The cowboy grinned wide. "Sure, honey, no problem. What is it?"
"Mary," she sighed. "Mary Travis.
"Pretty name - Mary." He buried his head in her breasts.
"Why, thank you, Chris," she said, absurdly pleaded.
Gus Manel lifted his head with a frown once more on his face. "My name ain't Chris."
She sighed with a dreamy smile on her face. "For right now it is."
Kilgore watched from a safe distance as the stagecoach rode in. He was still confused at this morning's activities. He could have sworn it was Thursday. . . but everything around him clearly stated that it was Wednesday. But as he waited for the dust to die down from the stagecoach's wheels, he knew that that today had to be Thursday because the mail would be delivered today.
"Mr. Kilgore," Finnigan nodded a greeting at the ever-punctual banker.
"Albert," Kilgore greeted. "I was just waiting for my mail."
Finnigan frowned. "There ain't no mail today, sir."
"No mail?" Kilgore stared at the man. "But today's Thursday, there's always mail on Thursday!"
Finnigan scratched his head. "Sir, its Wednesday."
Kilgore glanced over at Finnigan's shotgun. Joe nodded too. Finally, Kilgore turned to the passengers. "Excuse me, sir."
The elegantly dressed gentleman turned with a questioning expression. "Yes?"
"Is this the coach from Eagle Bend?"
The man shook his head. "No, we just came in from Sweet Water. Though we are heading in that direction."
Kilgore quietly thanked the man before turning away. The coach from Sweet Water only came in on Wednesday.
Matty sidled up next to the blonde cowboy at the bar. "Hey, honey, buy me a drink?"
Gus smiled down at the redheaded saloon girl. "Thanks, girl, but I just got me the best ride of my life and I'm plumb tired. Ain't really up to sharing a 'drink' with ya."
Matty huffed, squaring her shoulders. "Ain't nobody better than Matty Cole!"
"Sure there is." Gus smiled smugly. "She's a real lady too."
"Oh really? What's this lady's name?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
"Mary. Mary Travis."
The saloon went silent. For a spilt second no one moved. Then Matty began backing away from Gus as did the other saloon patrons. Gus slowly turned and found himself staring into the coldest eyes he'd ever seen. "What -- " his words died a painful death as a strong callused hand curled around his throat.
"I think," the blonde gunslinger hissed, "that you've got the wrong woman."
Manel struggled to breathe as he stared in horror at the three men. One with a mustache, another with long hair. The third son of a bitch, from whose long arm he now dangled, was a devil dressed in unrelenting black. They must be the peacekeepers and it had to be Larabee slowly choking the life out of him. "Blonde. . . brown eyes," he managed to gasp, hoping it would save his life.
Larabee's eyes widened, Manel was sure he was going to meet his maker, when Larabee suddenly loosened his grip.
"Chris!" Heads turned at the new voice.
Mary rushed to Chris' side.
Chris, still pinning Manel to the bar, wrapped one arm around Mary's waist. "What is it, Mary?"
"Mr. Clarence said someone claiming to be a friend of mine just sent a telegram to Eagle Bend. She sent for Billy!" Mary clutched Chris' duster in tight fists, panic and fear for her son starting to set in.
"It's all right, Mary, she won't get Billy. Remember what we told the Judge?" Chris ran his hand up and down her back, soothing the tense muscles he found.
Mary nodded vigorously, relief sweeping through her. "I'm sorry, I'm not thinking straight."
Chris continued his calming massage. "Let's go talk to Clarence." The blonde couple left the saloon together.
Manel's sigh of relief was short lived. Larabee's friends still stood on either side of him.
Wilmington smiled. . . it was humorless. "Mind if we have a little chat?"
Nathan and JD watched in glee as Kilgore walked away from the stagecoach. It worked!
"Wonder what that was about?"
The two peacekeepers turned to see several drifters loitering in front of Yosemite's forge.
"Don't rightly know, Mike. 'Cause sure as shootin' that my hair's red, today's Thursday."
The blonde cowboy smiled. "You think that fancy gent over there would 'ppreciate knowing that the whole town's lying to him?"
Red grinned. "Like a reward, huh?"
"Yeah," Mike said.
JD and Nathan exchanged twin-panicked looks, but before they could reach the two troublemakers, Weston and Yosemite grabbed them.
"Gentlemen." Weston smiled. "Can we have a moment of your time?"
Mike and Red glared at the two men warily.
"Ain't got nothing to say to either of you." Mike turned away, searching for Kilgore.
"Look, gentlemen," Yosemite said with a slight hint of impatience. "We're trying to help a friend. Would you mind not telling the banker man what day it really is?"
"Banker, huh?" Red smiled. "Just keeps gettin' better, Mike."
Before the two men could take a single step, blackness consumed them.
Vin didn't bother to look up; he'd recognize Buck's exuberant footsteps anywhere. "Bucklin." He pushed the bottle towards his friend.
"Well, ol' Gus won't be coming back here any time soon." Buck grinned widely. . . he loved 'shows of force'.
Vin chuckled, then sobered. "Buck, I've been thinking. . . what if it's Ella?"
"WHAT?" Buck's full-throated roar got everyone's attention, forcing Vin to grab his arm.
Only when Vin was sure that no one was overly interested in their conversation did he continue, "Makes sense, don't it, Buck? A woman, threatening the woman and child in his life?"
Buck paled as Vin's words sunk in. "Awww shit!" Buck slammed back the much-needed alcohol. "What do we do?"
Vin shrugged. "Keep an eye on Mary, alert the Judge. It's all we can do."
Buck nodded, then sighed. "I sure don't want to be the one to tell him."
Vin snorted. "Don't look at me."
JD grunted, hefting Red onto the bunk. Across the way, Nathan and Yosemite took care of Mike. "Thanks, Mayor."
Weston shrugged. "You're welcome, Sheriff. What now?"
Nathan scratched his head. "I guess we keep 'em here until this thing's over."
"You can't just arrest men for no reason!" The mayor sputtered. "Look, Mr. Jackson, I know you and the rest of the Seven. . . . "
"Relax, Mr. Weston." JD smiled. "We've arrested them for disturbing the peace."
"Disturbing the peace?" Yosemite asked then shook his head. "They weren't disturbing anyone."
"Well, my peace has to do with this con goin' the way Ezra said, and since they were gonna 'disturb' that plan, they were disturbing my peace." JD's grin was completely mischievous.
All four men laughed at the logic, Weston and Yosemite shaking their heads as they left.
"JD, you've been hanging out with Ezra too long if you're thinkin' like that."
"Actually, I think I heard one of the others sayin' that."
Nathan grinned. "Sounds like something Josiah would think up."
"No, I don't think it was Josiah."
"Well, it sure as hell wasn't Vin."
"Or Buck."
The two men glanced at each other then laughed. "Chris!"
Chris slipped silently back into the saloon, joining his friends. "What did he say?"
"Well, hello to you too, Chris." Buck smiled as Chris rolled his eyes.
"Manel says she didn't look anything like Miz Travis. . . except for her height," Vin murmured.
"Where'd they meet?" Chris glanced around the saloon.
"In the general store," Buck answered and before Chris could ask, he said, "And no, Mrs. Potter don't remember any woman in there claiming to be Mary."
"She's careful," Chris said. "Not letting anyone who knows Mary see her."
Buck and Vin exchanged glances. Buck sighed. "Chris, what if it's Ella?"
Chris Larabee was a statue. A cold, unmoving, lifeless statue.
"It might be her, cowboy," Vin's soft voice broke the silence. "She's done shit like this before."
Their friend and leader's eyes slid closed. "Send word to the Judge. Tell him to hire protection for Billy."
"Chris, you want me --"
Chris shook his head, but his eyes shone with gratitude. "She's gonna want Mary gone first. Then she'll go after Billy."
"But what if she tries for Billy to get to Mary?" Buck's quiet question silenced them all.
Chris' sigh was heartfelt. "Tell the Judge to get Billy and Evie out of Eagle Bend. Take them somewhere Ella can't find them."
The two men nodded.
Chris stood wearily. "I'll be with Mary."
"Mr. Kilgore! Mr. Kilgore!"
The banker turned to see the young sheriff running towards him – brandishing a yellow piece of paper.
JD skidded to a stop. "Mr. Kilgore, Peter asked me to give this to you."
"Thank you, Sheriff Dunne." Kilgore took the telegram, reading it out loud. "Benjamin, must meet with you tomorrow, Thursday the 12th, Alfred." He frowned, mumbling to himself. "I could have sworn we already met!"
"Sorry, sir?" JD leaned forward, holding his breath.
"Ah, nothing, Sheriff," Kilgore mumbled before heading off.
JD blew out his breath then turned to grin at his cohorts.
Mrs. Potter glanced at the clerk. "I cannot believe the audacity of the woman! Pretending to be Mrs. Travis!"
The female teller nodded. "And trying to kidnap Billy like that!"
"And that – that man!" Mrs. Brown exclaimed, her fan fluttering, showing her agitation. "Imagine! Trying to ruin her good name like that!"
Mrs. Potter snorted delicately. "Well, we won't have to worry much longer – Mr. Larabee and his men will sort all of this out."
The people surrounding the bank counter nodded, never noticing the uneasy hazel eyes silently assessing them.
The second bank teller glanced up as his next customer stepped up to the window. "How can I help you, sir?"
The slim man smiled, his southern accent rather thick. "Ah'd like some change, please." He slid the twenty-dollar bill across the counter.
John glanced at the man before him again, shivering slightly under the stranger's gaze. "Of course, sir."
The forty-ish man leaned nonchalantly against the counter. "So the army's in town, huh?"
"Ah, no sir," John said, placing the money on the counter. Not being able to restrain his curiosity, he said, "Why do you ask, sir?"
"Just heard the name 'Larabee' . . . knew someone in the army by that name." The stranger continued his easy tone – hoping for confirmation.
John smiled with pride. "No, sir, that would be Chris Larabee you heard about. He and his men are the peacekeepers in these parts."
The stranger relaxed, gathered his money, and nodded his thanks before leaving.
Mary sighed, leaning back into Chris' side. The gentle babbling of the stream soothed strained nerves.
Chris simply held her, not speaking at all, his mind whirling. Vin and Buck's words rolled over and over in his mind, even as he hoped and prayed. 'Could it be Ella? Please, God, don't let it be her.' He was glad that Mary couldn't see his face. The storm clouds couldn't hold a candle to his countenance.
"Chris?"
"Hmm?"
"Why me?"
He tightened his arms. "I don't know, Mary. I don't know." He sighed. "Maybe she wishes she had your life."
"Why?" Mary moved to look into Chris' eyes. "I'm nothing special. It's not as if I'm important or rich or. . . ."
"Shhh," Chris whispered. "Who knows what's going on in that sick woman's mind? But," he smiled. "I promise you when we catch her, I'll let you have first crack at her."
"Oh you!" Mary sat up, slapping him on the arm, laughing all the while.
Chris' smile turned into a frown. 'Something's not right.' Then he heard what he'd sensed. The pounding of hooves. The ground vibrated with their approach. He stood. "Mary, get up."
Mary scrambled to follow his order. The terse note in his voice and the gun in his hand silenced any questions.
He boosted her up into the buggy. "Ride hard! Get to the others!"
Mary's eyes widened when she realized he wasn't getting in the buggy with her. "No, Chris! Come with me!"
He shook his head. The buggy was no match for horses. "They're coming in fast. We don't have the time. I have to hold them back long enough for you to get away."
"No, Chris --"
"Go!" He didn't give her a choice, slapping the horse's flank.
Mary fought to control the horse's panicked run, turning back just in time to one of the horsemen tackling Chris. "No!"
"Mrs. Standish! Mrs. Standish!"
Maude and Ezra froze, then turned simultaneously, twin smiles gracing their faces. "Yes, Benjamin?" Maude said sweetly.
Kilgore smiled at her. "Have you given any more thought to opening that account with us?"
Maude smiled. "Well, no, I haven't. Ah thought I'd ask Ezra his opinion first." Inwardly, Maude rolled her eyes, playing up to the man's expectations. Ezra successfully withheld his snicker.
"Well," Kilgore turned to her son. "Why don't we talk about this in the bank?"
Ezra and Maude exchanged glances. They couldn't back out now without looking suspicious. Ezra smiled. "Of course."
"Good, good." Kilgore lead the way into his bank, chattering about accounts the entire way. "Benson, please bring me," Kilgore paused by his secretary's desk, then frowned as he picked up the calender. There was a large red "X" marked through Wednesday. "Benson? Why do you have today marked through already? You don't mark it off until the next day."
"I, ah, I -- " Benson stared helplessly over his boss' shoulder at the Standishes. "I don't know."
Ezra calmly raised an eyebrow. "Why, Mr. Benson, don't you remember? Yesterday when you were helping me with that transaction, you were so distracted that you accidentally marked the wrong date?" His voice was so smooth, never once changing inflection, that Benson could do nothing more than nod gratefully.
Maude stepped in, right now cue, lacing her arm through Kilgore's. "Now, Benjamin, about that new account."
"Mr. Standish! I got it! I got the money!" Matthews' voice echoed throughout the bank, the doors still banging against the walls from his entrance. The rancher's smile was huge. "It came in early!"
The quartet in the back froze as they watched the rancher make his way through the bank into the office.
"Money? What money?" Kilgore glared at the Standishes and Matthews and then back to Standish – dismissing Maude completely.
"Why the money Mr. Matthews owes you on his farm, of course. Congratulations, Mr. Matthews." Ezra turned to the banker. "Here is your money, sir."
Kilgore glared at the two men, even as he took the money, counting it quickly. "It's still too late. And you're short."
"What?" Matthews grabbed the money, his face crumbling. "A hundred. I'm short a hundred." The rancher turned to the peacekeeper, his eyes pleading for help.
"Mr. Kilgore, would you happen to partake in games of chance?" Ezra's smile never faltered. "One game of poker. The winner of said game would be entitled to the ranch and the money Mr. Matthews currently holds in his hand."
Kilgore laughed. "If you think I'm going to play poker with a professional gambler. . . ."
"Then what about a hand with me, Mr. Kilgore?" Maude smiled from beside her son, her stance challenging.
"Play against a woman?" His tone said it all. "I don't think so."
"Even if we sweeten the pot?" Maude moved forward, her hips swaying, distracting the banker from everything but her.
Ezra smiled with pride and amusement as he watched his mother work her magic. Kilgore was a goner.
"'Sweeten'? How?" Kilgore leaned forward with a sly smile. Playing poker with a woman. . .it would be too easy!
"Ah'll throw in the Standish Saloon."
Kilgore smiled. "Deal. I'll see you in two hours."
"Ah shall see you then, sir." Maude turned to leave, Ezra by her side.
"Mother," Ezra said with a smile. "Did you not sell the saloon?"
She grinned. "Darling, what the gentleman doesn't know. . . ."
"Won't hurt him," Ezra finished with a matching dimpled grin.
Josiah grinned. "He's actually going to play your mother?"
"Yes, he is." Ezra smiled maliciously. "Ah wonder if now would be a good time to tell him that she's the one that taught me everything Ah know?"
Buck, Vin, Josiah, JD and Ezra looked at each other. "Naaaahhhh."
Vin stepped off the jail's porch, heading towards the saloon – presumably where the game was to be held. "So, when's the game?" But as he turned toward the street, his smile fell. "Chris!"
"NATHAN!"
They ran towards their staggering leader even as they called for help.
Vin reached him first, grabbing Chris just as his legs gave out. "Damn, cowboy, thought you were just goin' for a nice restful lunch?"
Ezra snorted as he grabbed Chris' other arm. "When was the last time Mr. Larabee did anything restful?"
Even with the pounding headache, Chris glared at the gambler. "Shut up, Ez. Damn bastards ambushed us. Took Mary. Gotta go after her."
"Woah, there, pard," Buck said, pushing Chris back into Vin's arms, keeping his hand on his friend's chest. "You ain't goin' anywhere until Nate checks you out."
Nathan skidded to a stop, dropping his bag on the ground. "What happened?"
"Got pistol whipped." Chris grunted as Nathan probed the wound.
"And Miz Travis?" JD asked anxiously.
"The bastards took her," Vin said quietly as he and Josiah helped Chris to his feet.
Nathan directed the three men to the porch in front of the jail.
"Can I ride?" Chris demanded.
Nathan sighed. "You're gonna be swayin' like a pair of long johns in the wind, but yeah, you can ride."
"Then let's go."
"Let me go," Mary said calmly. "Let me go now and it'll be better for you, because when Chris finds us. . . ."
"He won't find you, Suzanne." The woman fluffed her hair, styling it to mimic Mary's.
"My name," Mary said through gritted teeth, "is Mary Travis."
"NO!" Suzanne whirled, pressing the blade to Mary's throat. "I am Mary Travis!"
Mary rolled her eyes, the tremble in her voice barely discernible as she replied. "You're not me. You could never be me."
"Oh really?" The blade pressed deeper into vulnerable skin as Suzanne sneered at her captive. The silent threat delivered, she left Mary to cross the room.
Mary watched as Suzanne picked up a green fishing pole.
"Billy, honey! I'm so glad you like it! I knew I had to get it for you! It's even in your favorite color!" Suzanne smiled triumphantly. "You see? I know everything about you!"
"Yes," Mary said calmly. "But do you know everything I know? Who is Sarah? And Adam, who is he? Or Rain? Do you know who Chris' favorite author is? What do Vin and I do every Wednesday afternoon? Do you know anything, Suzanne?"
The knife trembled in reaction to the kidnapper's agitation. "None of that matters! The only one that matters is that I am Mary Travis. And Chris Larabee loves Mary Travis! He cherishes her. . .cherishes me."
"Chris?" Mary sneered. "You may want Chris, but he'll never want you, Suzanne. It'll always be me he wants, not you!"
"Shut up!" Suzanne screamed. "Just shut up, you conceited bitch! You have everything! Lording it over the rest of us! You live a fairy tale life! Living in that ivory tower with your handsome prince. Pretending to care about me, the bastard daughter! Giving me your cast-offs, your pity! Well, no more! Do you hear me, Clarissa! No more! I'm sick and tired of watching Father pamper you, of Zack fawning over you! No. More." She whispered, the knife poised over Mary's heart.
Mary tensed, expecting the blow. . .
CRASH!
The door flew off its hinges as the tiny shack trembled with the invading force.
"Get the hell away from her." The words were ice cold – soft and deadly.
"C-Chris!" Suzanne stammered. "I – I was just going to rid us of her. . . so we could be together."
"Lady," Chris snarled. "I don't even know who you are. Now get away from her."
"No! She's perfect! Everything I ever wanted!" She lunged and Chris fired.
Maude smiled as her son and his friends crashed into the saloon. All were accounted for except Chris and Mary – but that was understandable. She nodded and smiled at Ezra and company as they nudged their way through the crowd, before turning back to her cards and her opponent. Maude smiled at the man across the table from her. "Call, Benjamin."
The townspeople held their collective breaths. Everyone heard about the stakes. . . and the fact that Maude was playing with the ownership of a saloon that she did not own was only the icing on the cake that drew the spectators like flies.
Kilgore visibly swallowed. He was so sure that this hand would win him the pot. But the way Maude was smiling at him. . . . 'Who would have thought a woman could play that well?! Her son must have taught her. That's it, Standish somehow helped her cheat!' But before he could make the accusation, Standish distracted him.
Ezra glanced down at the money that Mr. Kilgore had placed onto the table. He frowned, and without asking for permission, picked up one of the twenty-dollar bills. Holding the bill up to the light, he carefully studied it.
Maude frowned. She had nearly cleaned out Kilgore and was looking forward to the kill – as it were. "Ezra, darling?"
"Got a problem with my money, Standish?" Kilgore nearly snarled the question. If he didn't win this hand, he would have lost nearly two hundred and fifty dollars to the gambler's mother.
Ezra's frown deepened. "Actually, yes, Mr. Kilgore, I do." He tossed the bill back at the Kilgore. "This is counterfeit."
Maude glared at the man. 'All that for nothing?!' "Why, Mr. Kilgore, I'd never!"
"What?!" Kilgore grabbed the money, studying it himself. "My God, it is fake!" He tucked the money back into his pocket as he mumbled something about contacting the proper authorities. The banker then placed another twenty on the table to cover his bet.
Ezra raised an eyebrow as he reached for the remaining stack of Kilgore's money. Sure enough, the rest were the genuine article. Ezra smiled urbanely as he relaxed into a chair. "I believe my mother called, Mr. Kilgore."
"Yes, dear, I do believe I did." Maude smiled at her mark, anticipation drumming through her. Now that she had Kilgore where she wanted him, she dropped the heavy southern accent and belle act. It was getting tiresome.
Kilgore sighed, hoping against hope, he laid his hand down. Aces and eights. A full house.
Mother and son smiled identically unholy grins as she laid down her hand. . . "I'm sorry, Benjamin, but my sisters have always treated me well." Four queens winked up at him.
Kilgore stood back in outrage. "But. . .but. . .you're a woman! No woman can play that well! Standish was helping you ch---"
Before the words could leave his mouth, the sounds of chairs and tables being scraped back caught his attention. The peacekeepers were all around him, their grim visages warning him off. But it was the faces of the townspeople that stopped him.
They would not be pleased if he continued. And he needed their business.
"You were saying, Mr. Kilgore," Ezra said with a smirk.
"Nothing. Nothing." Kilgore glared at both southerners. "Take the damn money."
The spectators cheered as Maude and Ezra raked in the money and presented it to Matthews. Who in turn presented all $1000 of his debt to Kilgore.
Kilgore sighed in defeat, handing the rancher the deed to his property.
Matthews turned to Maude, Ezra, and the other peacekeepers and the townspeople who had so generously helped him. "Thank you, all of you." His words were sincere – as was the light sheen in his eyes.
"You are perfectly welcome, Mr. Matthews," Maude said with a smile, speaking for them all.
Matthews grinned, handing the extra monies over to the southern lady.
Ezra's eyes were wide. "Mother!"
Maude smiled coquettishly. "Ezra, darling, do you think I would have put up the Saloon for collateral without some kind of recompense?"
Everyone laughed as Ezra rolled his eyes and sighed. "My mother."
Mary sighed, burrowing deeper into the blankets and into the safety of Chris' arms. She thought that she could never enough of the feeling of safety in his arms. The breeze swirled around them as they sat on her back porch.
Tomorrow, Billy would be home, everything was right in her world.
The End
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