TO BE YOU
By: Lady Angel
"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
