Rating: PG-17 (for language, violence)
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I don't own the characters. Only borrowing for a short time and will return them in relatively the same shape as when borrowed.
Excerpts from the following works were cited in the course of this story:
Thanks to...
Dina, Jedikay, and Susan_Texas for their feedback, support, encouragement, and, yes, kicks in the behind, to keep me plugging away at this thing;
Zarina and Ice Hunter for sharing their respective knowledge about history and weapons; and,
Dina for once again sharing her betaing skills with me.
All mistakes are mine and do not in any way reflect on those who assisted me.
Author notes: Yes, there are original characters in here. No, they are not love interests or mary sues. <g> Feedback to krhwriter@alltel.net always appreciated. Enjoy.
Pausing to watch the late afternoon stage pull to a halt, JD Dunne waved a hand to dispel some of the dust trying to choke him to death. JD watched as the driver jumped down and opened the door, then stepped from the boardwalk to get a better look at the passengers disembarking. Surprisingly, only one got off, an older woman.
Looking at her, JD guessed she was in her fifties. She was fairly tall, thin, and wore her hair up. Her clothing, while not lavish, suggested that she was relatively well off. She moved with an unmistakable aura of dignity. Yet, in her face, beneath her calm exterior, there seemed to be a deep sadness borne of worry and loss.
Seeing the young man in the bowler hat watching her, the woman quickly looked at her handbag to cover the smile that threatened to erupt on her face. 'He is just as you described him.' Composing herself, she took a step towards the sheriff who was turning to leave.
"Excuse me. Sheriff Dunne?" the woman's words halted the man in his tracks.
"Yes ma'am," he said turning back to the speaker.
"I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Mrs. Travis?"
"Mary? She and her son Billy went visiting folks north of town. They'll be back within the hour."
"I see," the woman said, silently pleased at this unexpected, but fortunate, turn of events. "In that case, what about Mr. Larabee?"
"Chris?" JD reiterated, surprised that this woman would be looking for the gunfighter. "You know Chris...er... Mr. Larabee?"
"I didn't say that. I asked where I could find him," the woman gently corrected.
"Oh right, Sorry ma'am," JD said embarrassed by his own lack of manners. Pulling his hat off his head in nervousness, he tried to make up for his earlier slip. "I could get him for you...," he said before heading towards the jail without waiting for an answer.
The woman did not have to wait long as JD quickly returned followed by a taller man dressed in black. The woman cast an appraising eye over the man stopping in front of her. She liked what she saw.
"Ma'am," Chris said as he tipped his hat and tried to remember if he had met this woman before. "JD said you were asking for me?"
"Mr. Larabee. I'm Evelyn Travis," she said in greeting, watching with amusement as both reacted as Orrin had told her they would. Chris merely nodded finding nothing unusual in her announcement while JD was ready to burst with surprise. "Is there somewhere private where I might have a word with you?"
From behind the pair, JD couldn't contain himself any longer. "There's Josiah's... I mean... the church. Unless you'd rather go to Mary's...," he stuttered and fell silent as Chris and Evie's eyes fell on him.
"JD, why don't you take Mrs. Travis' bags to...," Chris paused looking at the woman for clarification.
"The hotel," she finished for him.
"Yes, ma'am," JD muttered, disappointed that he wasn't going to be included in the conversation.
Escorting the older woman towards the church, Chris couldn't help but wonder what had brought her to Four Corners and why she wanted to speak with him. He knew from bits and pieces of conversation with Orrin, Mary and Billy that her health had been questionable for several years. That was why Billy and Mary always traveled to see her rather than have her come to Four Corners. Whatever had brought her had to be serious.
Chris placed his on her elbow and helped her up the stairs, before opening the door and following her inside. Closing the door to keep the dust out, Chris took a few steps away from the doorway and stopped to wait for her speak.
Walking towards the front of the church, Evie ran an eye around the sparse furnishings. At first look, the church seemed ragged and barren, but a closer inspection revealed a building being slowly transformed with loving care. The sections of polished wood, the new stain glass windows, and the spotless floors spoke volumes about the person or persons responsible.
"Your Mr. Sanchez has been working wonders," Evie finally announced, approval evident in her voice. "The last time I was here, this was simply a shell of a building." Turning to look at the man behind her, she continued "But that could be said for most of the town. From what I have heard, you and the others have almost made it a decent place to live. Some might even say you have worked a miracle here."
Pausing for a moment, Evie looked long and hard at Chris, as if she was weighing whether or not to talk to the gunslinger. Looking deep into his eyes, she finally broke the silence that had descended. "My husband likes you. More importantly, he respects you. My daughter-in-law does too. And my grandson, well, he thinks the sun rises and sets in you. Those are pretty high credentials in my book. Now, it seems I need your help."
Evie sat down on the pew closest to her and sighed. It seemed that the effort of saying that she needed help had reminded her of the gravity of the situation. "Have you heard from Orrin in the past week?" she asked, looking up at the man still standing inside the door.
Chris shook his head indicating he had not.
"Figures. That man is too stubborn for his own good. Orrin's on his way here to rest for few days before he starts a trial down in Trevorville against a man named Robert Weatherly. Ever hear of him?"
"He's a big rancher to the west," Chris said.
Nodding, Evie continued. "He's accused of killing a man over 50 head of steer. We heard about the killing more than a week after it happened, Orrin contacted the authorities in Trevorville right away. By all accounts, it should be an open and shut case. It was Robert's gun found at the scene and the cattle were found hidden on the outer edge of his property."
The ease that Evie had used the accused man's Christian name did not go unnoticed by the gunslinger. "Why do I think there is more to this situation than that?" Chris queried, shuffling his stance.
Smiling slightly, Evie nodded. "Because there is. Over thirty years ago, Robert Weatherly was living with his father on a little homestead in a lush valley at the base of the Santa Maria mountains. It was a modest little spread with a couple hundred head of cattle. One day, his father, Benjamin, was chopping wood when he passed out. The doctors said his heart just gave out. He passed later that night." Chris detected a bittersweet sadness in Evie's voice as she spoke of Benjamin.
Shaking her head, the older woman seemed to pull herself back to the present. "In the early years, Robert sacrificed many comforts to be able to buy more land and cattle and build the homestead into a successful ranching operation. The last I heard, Robert had over 10,000 head. He was actually one of the first ranchers in that area who was able to handle that many head." Chris detected a note of pride in Evie's voice as she spoke. Watching her, he saw a flash of sadness pass over her face as she continued. "By right, Robert should be able to relax after 40 years of hard labor, but it seems it wasn't meant to be. His son was crippled during a stampede last year. Now, Robert is trying to keep things going until his grandson is old enough to take over."
"Six months ago, a couple of ranchers on either side of the Weatherly ranch began to make offers to Robert to buy the spread. Robert told them he wasn't interested in selling, but they continued to ask, getting more persistent each time. Soon afterwards, things started to happen. Fences began to be knocked down, a pond went bad, hands started to quit or disappear with no explanation. Then Robert lost a major deal with the army to supply beef to several forts in the area. When Robert tried to find out why, he was told it was because the army had received word that his cattle were diseased. He proved to the army and others around the area that they weren't but by then, it was too late. The damage had been done."
"How'd you find out about all this?"
"The earlier troubles, Robert wrote about in his letters. As for him being arrested, his son Evan contacted us. He was concerned because he hadn't been allowed to see Robert. Orrin wired the Trevorville sheriff immediately and told him that he would be there in a couple weeks and for them to not do anything until then. He told them that Robert had better be in good health when he got there or there would be a full federal inquiry as to why he wasn't. The next day these started," Evie said, pulling several yellow sheets of paper from her handbag.
Taking the papers, Chris unfolded the telegrams and quickly read the contents before looking up at Mrs. Travis. "Any idea who is sending them?"
Shrugging Evie slowly put the papers back into her purse. Looking at the candles burning in the corner, she continued. "At first, I didn't take them seriously. I thought whoever was sending them was just trying to scare Orrin into dropping the case. This seemed to be confirmed after they stopped as soon as he left for a trial eight days ago." Turning her eyes back to Chris, Evie's voice was somber. "Three days ago, a wagon almost ran me down while I was crossing the street. An hour later, this was slipped under my door," Evie said handing Chris a separate piece of paper.
Unfolding it, Chris scanned the handwritten note that said "Tell your husband that Weatherly hangs or next time it won't miss."
"You must understand something. I don't scare easy, but that.... I got out the gun Orrin gave me years ago," she said, pulling out a small derringer from her bag, "and got on the stage that very day," Evie finished, looking at Chris while slipping the small pistol back into her bag.
"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked, still not sure of what she wanted of him.
"I would like for you to convince Orrin to petition to have the trial moved out of Trevorville. Or, if that fails, for you and the others to go with him to keep on eye on him. These men will stop at nothing until they get what they want."
"Why would he need to petition? Can't he just do it?" Chris asked.
"If he was the presiding judge, yes, he could. But you see, Orrin isn't presiding over this case. He's acting as the defense attorney. Robert Weatherly is my brother."
Any further conversation on the matter was interrupted by the sound of running feet up the steps to the church. Both set of eyes moved to the door as it flew open and a small streak of energy blew threw it.
"Grandma!" Billy squealed in delight,as he flew across the room into the outstretched arms waiting for him.
Movement in his peripheral vision caused Chris to take his eyes off the little boy and older woman. As Mary stepped through the doorway, he watched her pause to wait for her eyes to adjust, as well as to give Billy time to greet Evie. Spotting Chris standing a short ways away, she threw him a curious look and a nod in greeting.
"Hello my dear," Evie warmly said, rising to meet Mary and embrace her.
Pulling back, Mary was full of questions. "Evie, what are you doing here? Is everything all right? Nothing's happened to Orrin has it?"
"Oh no, dear. In fact, Orrin's on his way here also. I just thought I would surprise him by coming to Four Corners to meet him." Moving to encompass Chris in the conversation she continued. "Since you weren't here, Mr. Larabee has been kind enough to show me the progress that has been made in town."
At the sound of Chris' name, Billy spun and saw the gunslinger for the first time. "Chris!" he shouted in glee and ran to the gunslinger.
"I didn't know Chris could be talked into being a tour guide," Mary teased.
"Oh he didn't," Evie clarified. "He just happened to be around and I sort of 'commandeered' him. After all, what's the use of being a judge's wife if you can't use it every now and then," she added, winking conspiratorially at Mary before looking towards Chris and Billy.
Depositing the youngster in his arms on the closest pew, Chris took his leave.
The next day, Chris thought about what he had learned as he tossed his saddle on to the back of a bay gelding. After he had left the church, he had sent several telegrams to acquaintances in the area of Trevorville to find out more about Weatherly and the charges against him. He hadn't found out anything more than what he had known before.
He was torn. Orrin would not appreciate him interfering if there was no real danger. Yet, if anything happened to Orrin or Evie because he didn't do something, Chris would never forgive himself. The approach of a horse and rider drew his attention as he finished saddling his horse. Lowering the stirrup, Chris stepped out to meet Mary as she pulled her horse to a halt in front of the cabin.
"You're out early. Everything all right?" Chris asked as he grabbed the horse's bridle to steady it as she dismounted.
"Thank you," Mary said, dislodging her left foot. Turning towards the tall man watching her, Mary took her hat off as she answered him. "Actually, I was hoping you could tell me whether it was or not."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Chris asked evasively, before he turned to lead Mary's horse towards the water trough so it could drink it's fill.
Shadowing his footsteps, Mary's voice held a hint of impatience in it as she continued. "Evelyn Travis has been to Four Corners twice in her life. The first time was when Billy was born. The second was when we buried Stephen. She would not have come out to simply surprise Orrin as she said."
Watching Chris wrap the reins on the corral post, Mary assessed his movements for clues as to what was going on. What she saw was a tenseness that only came over him when he was expecting trouble. It was enough to confirm Mary's suspicions that something was going on. "Does Evie's arrival have anything to do with this?" Mary asked, guessing the answer.
Turning to look at Mary, Chris took the telegram she was holding out in front of her. Unfolding it, Chris frowned. "When did you get this?"
"Last night, but with the excitement of Evie arrival, I stuffed it in my pocket and didn't read it until this morning. Now will you tell me what's going on?"
The sight of a horse approaching fast drew Chris' attention. Stepping around Mary, he placed himself between her and the nearing rider. "It's Vin," he threw back over his shoulder, when the stranger was close enough for him to determine who it was.
Reining his horse, Vin Tanner snapped out, "You'd best come. Stage was ambushed. The Judge has been shot."
"You dumb shit. You were just suppose to scare him," George McKeely snarled as he slapped his brother up side the head. "Now look what ya did...the old man got shot!"
"How was I suppose to know the old coot was gonna swing open the door and start firin' when he did?" Charlie McKeely whined, rubbing his sore ear and glaring at his older brother. "Sides to my way of thinkin,' if Travis is dead he won't be stickin' his nose in things that ain't his business no more."
"Iffin' he's dead, we'll have every soldier boy in the area on our butts. Did ya think of that?" Cuffing him again to emphasis his point, George turned his back on Charlie. "Get outta my sight before I shoot ya' for thinkin'."
Taking the steps of the hotel at a dead run, Mary and Chris bounded to the second floor and quickly moved down the hall towards the room where Nathan was working on the Judge. Not bothering to knock, the two entered the suite and cast anxious eyes about the room. While Chris paused inside the door, Mary moved over to Evie who was sitting with Ezra.
"Any word?" Mary asked breathlessly as she gripped the hand held out to her.
"No. Mr. Jackson is still working on him," Evie replied, nodding her head toward the closed door leading to the bedroom.
"I am confident that he will be fine," Ezra said soothingly again from the other side of Evie. Catching a nod from Chris, he added, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you in Mary's most capable hands."
As the gambler rose, Evie stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Mr. Standish, you have been a great comfort to me. Thank you." , Raising a hand to tip the hat he had just reset on his head, Ezra bowed slightly before moving across the room.
"How bad?" Chris asked as the southerner joined him.
"Nathan said the bullet went into his side. He wouldn't know anything more until he examined him," Ezra explained in a low voice.
"Anyone besides the Judge know what happened?" the gunslinger asked, shifting his stance.
"He does," Ezra said nodding towards a man sitting with Josiah. The preacher was wrapping the man's shoulder before easing his arm into a sling. Both men noticed that while conversing with Josiah, the stranger was watching the women in the room with great interest.
"Who's that?"
"One John Terrell. It seems Mr. Terrell had the misfortune of being a passenger on the stage. He dislocated his shoulder trying to climb on the top of it after the driver was killed. Even with this most painful injury, he managed to get the stage to town." A note of respect had crept into the gambler's voice as he spoke. Ezra knew the pain of having one's shoulder dislocated and that it was no small feat to handle six reins with one hand. Glancing back at Chris, Ezra finished his report. "Mr. Wilmington is getting ready to head out to try to pick up the tracks of the miscreants who did this."
"No," Chris snapped. "Go tell him to get back here. We'll all need to stay close to town."
The tension in the gunslinger's voice relayed to Ezra that there was more to this situation than what it appeared to be. Nodding once, he was about to head out when he was stopped by Chris' voice. "Where's JD?"
"He and Master Travis are helping Mr. Wilmington," Ezra explained.
Nodding Chris shifted. "Vin's outside. Bring all of them back with you."
Chris moved across the room to stop in front of Josiah and John Terrell. Looking him over, Chris guessed Terrell was in his early to mid thirties. He wasn't especially tall, but there seemed to be a wily strength in him. His sandy blond hair was short and well trimmed. When the stranger looked up at the gunslinger, Chris looked into blue eyes that were guarded. Something about that bothered Chris.
Having finished his administration, Josiah Sanchez set back and glanced back over his shoulder at Chris while making introductions. "Chris Larabee. John Terrell."
Hesitantly, the two men nodded at each other in greeting. It was Chris' turn to be sized up. After a few moments, Terrell sat back in his chair, a neutral look on his face. "They tell me you're in charge. I hope you can catch the men who did this. The Judge seemed like a decent man. It's a shame he had to be hurt."
"Did you get a look at the men who attacked you?"
"Not a real good one. There were two of them. One thin, one stocky... about my height, dressed like wranglers, but from the way they abused their mounts, I don't think that's how they make their living."
"Would you recognize them if you saw them again?" Josiah asked.
"I would," Orrin Travis said, as he moved painfully into the room where the others were talking. Helping him sit down, Nathan threw an exasperated look towards his friends while Mary and Evie rushed over to the older man.
"I'm fine," the Judge said once he was settled, trying to assure the room's occupants. "Mr. Jackson here assures me that while painful, the wound is far from life threatening."
Looking at the anxious faces that had turned to him for confirmation, Nathan nodded. "Bullet went clean through without hittin' any organs. He'll be all right, long as he gets some rest and takes it easy for a while."
"Well, that part remains to seen," Orrin sighed.
While waiting for the others to join them, Nathan quickly checked over Terrell's shoulder. Pleased with Josiah's work, the healer nodded approvingly before setting back. "You'll need to take it easy for at least two weeks to give them muscles time to heal. If it gets to hurtin' ya too much, let me know and I'll give ya something. Otherwise, come see me in three days so I can check it again."
"I appreciate what you and Mr. Sanchez have done for me," Terrell said. "Now, if that's all, I think I'll see if there are any rooms left as it seems I am going to be in town for awhile." Standing, the newcomer picked up his satchel that had been setting against the wall. Before leaving however, he moved closer to the Judge and the ladies. "I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again while I'm in town," he said to the three.
"Mr. Terrell, thank you for all you did for my husband," Evie addressed the man warmly. "I am eternally in your debt."
"My pleasure ma'am. Perhaps if the situation allows it, you could repay me by you and your husband joining me for dinner some night? And by all means... please bring your... daughter is it?" Terrell asked lightly, his eyes moving to linger on Mary.
"Daughter-in-law," Mary corrected, blushing slightly at the stranger's perusal. "Well, actually, I guess I'm not anymore, but...," she added looking towards Evie and Orrin.
"She'll always be our daughter," Evie said grasping Mary's hand. Looking back at Terrell, Evie briefly explained. "Mary was married to our son who passed away a few years ago."
"My condolences to all of you," Terrell said. "Well... I'll check with you later in the week if I may about that dinner."
"Until then," Mary murmured for all them.
Pacing the room, Buck Wilmington was beside himself. "Damnit Judge... excuse me Mary... Mrs. Travis.... but you can't expect us to just let you ride to that place after what's happened. The low-down dog behind this has tried to kill you and the Mrs."
"Chris? You haven't said much about all this," the Judge observed, scanning the gunslinger's profile as he stood by the window looking into the street below.
Glancing back at the older man, Chris shifted his stance so he could see more of the room's occupants. Seeing all eyes on him, the gunslinger steeled himself against the shocked looks that were bound to come his way. "Buck's right. It's suicide for you to ride into Trevorville now. We need to face whoever is behind this on our terms."
"And just how are we gonna do that?" JD asked.
"By bringing the trouble here."
Sharing glances, the other peace keepers looked at each other knowing how hard that was for their leader to say. The person or people behind the trouble didn't care who got hurt as long as they got what they wanted. The attack on the stagecoach and the attempt on Evie in broad daylight proved that. And now, Chris was going to deliberately bring this trouble into Four Corners. If any of residents were hurt because of Chris' decision, the guilt could destroy the gunslinger. Yet, they also knew that Chris was right.
"Whatcha got in mind?" Vin said softly from across the room.
"Bring the trial here. Whoever is bent on having Weatherly hung won't like it and will follow...," the gunslinger started to explain.
"Then we watch any newcomers and see who starts causin' problems," Nathan said, finishing the sentence for Chris and nodding his approval.
"Risky," observed the Judge. "A trial like this could bring a lot of people to town for it. Could be hard to catch the person before anything happens."
"Not any riskier than going into the lion's den," Josiah countered.
Pausing for a moment, Orrin finally gave some indication of giving in. "You're forgetting something. I don't have say if we move this trial here or not. Nick Cody is the presiding judge."
"Being a reasonable man like yourself, I'm sure he could be, shall we say, 'persuaded' to move it here... once the situation is fully explained to him," Ezra soothed confidently.
"You know him, Ezra?" Buck queried.
"Let us just say that in my line of business, it pays to have people owe you a favor and Nicholas Cody's debt to me is quite... substantial." The smirk on the gambler's face and the tone of his voice told the others that whatever the history between Ezra and Cody, the Judge would never stand a chance if Ezra wanted to call his marker.
Snorting, Orrin shook his head. One of the first tenets of being a judge is to be impartial. 'And you can't be impartial if you owe favors.' The fact that Cody had gotten into a situation that had caused him to owe a gambler like Ezra Standish didn't bode well for him. Granted, Ezra wasn't like any other con man that he had met. If fact, even though he had reservations about hiring him in the beginning, Standish had proven as loyal and trustworthy as the rest. 'That type of change doesn't happen to a man overnight. But still.... '
Pondering the possibilities, Orrin pinned the gambler with a piercing look until Ezra began to squirm. Finally, he shifted his gaze and took a deep breath. Blowing it out loudly, Orrin finally relented. "Okay, I'll send a telegram to Cody today. If he agrees to the plan, I'll have him send a wire to the Trevorville sheriff instructing him to release Robert into Sheriff Dunne's custody. Now, how long before Mary, Billy and Evie can leave on the stage?"
"Leave? What...," Mary started, only to be cut off by Evie.
"Oh no, you don't Orrin William Travis. You are not getting rid of me that fast. Robert is my only brother. He would never kill another man unless he had to and he sure wouldn't of killed someone over a few head of steer. I plan to make sure he knows I am here for him until he is cleared of this ridiculous charge."
"It's too dangerous. I don't want Mary and the boy put into danger and they won't leave as long as you're here," Orrin tried to explain to Evie. While doing this he caught the look that passed between Mary and Chris. Tensing he asked "What?" while looking from one to the other.
Before Mary could say anything, Chris stepped forward. "No one leaves town. It'll be easier to keep on eye on all of you here. Vin, you, JD and Josiah head out as soon as we get confirmation from Judge Cody that you can pick up Weatherly. The rest of us will keep an eye on things in town."
With that comment, it seemed the meeting was over. As the men began to file out, Evie stopped Chris. "Tell me the truth Mr. Larabee, what are the odds that Robert will get through this alive?"
Looking at Orrin, Chris waited for a nod from the older man before answering. "Ma'am, if he's still alive when the boys get there to pick him up, they'll do everything they can to get him back safely." Although it didn't really answer the question, it seemed to pacify her for the moment. Nodding to Orrin and Mary, the gunslinger closed the door softly behind him.
Coming out of the alley while making the evening rounds, Chris called to the woman bending over to pick up something laying at the door of the Clarion. "Any word?" he asked coming up to her and scanning her face hoping she would have news for him.
Smiling briefly in greeting, Mary quickly sobered. "No, but Orrin says we shouldn't worry. He doesn't think we'll hear from Judge Cody until tomorrow."
Frustrated at the delay, but knowing there wasn't anything he could do about it, Chris nodded. The longer it took for them to get Weatherly to Four Corners, the more likely it was that he would be killed before they had the chance to clear him. Remembering that he had seen her pick up a envelope, he thrust his chin towards it. "What's that?"
"I'm not sure. It was just laying here," she said opening the door and entering the building. Waiting until Chris had lit the lamp by the door, Mary slid her finger under the edge to break the seal on it. Extracting the note, Mary quickly read the words to her self.
Oh sweet lady...
Lord Byron says it better than I ever could.
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
— The Forgotten One
Chris didn't miss the blush that crept up her neck. "Mary?"
Putting the note back in the envelope, she tried to cover her discomfort. "It's nothing," she said.
"Are you sure?" he asked, ducking to look into her averted face.
Plastering a forced smile on her face, she tried to sound confident as she looked at him. "Absolutely."
Searching the carefully shielded features before him, Chris didn't believe her but decided to not push it right now. If she wanted to tell him, he would listen otherwise, there wasn't much he could do.
Mary kept her face neutral until the gunslinger had left the office. Maybe I should of told him she thought, once again pulling the paper from the envelope. Scanning it one more time trying to recognize the handwriting, she moved across the room and reached for a box setting on the bottom of the printer. Opening it, she quickly slipped the note into the box and slid the box back to its original resting spot.
"Watch your backs. We don't know for sure what you'll find down there," Larabee warned, as he watched Vin, Josiah and JD make their final preparations to leave. It had almost a full day before they had received word that the Trevorville sheriff had been wired the papers. It was longer than any of them would have like, but it couldn't be helped. The approach of Mary and the elder Mrs. Travis forestalled anything else the gunslinger was going to say.
Nodding to all of the men in greeting, the women stopped beside Josiah, who was the first rider they came to. While Mary handed JD a bundle of sandwiches, Evie laid a hand on the preacher's arm to hold his attention.
"If Robert is still alive when you get there," the older woman paused as if debating on whether to finish her sentence. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked the tall man in the eye. When she spoke again, her voice held a determination that dared any of them to contradict her. "When you see Robert, tell him that Edie will be waiting for him."
Seeing the confusion on the preacher's face, Evie smiled slightly and explained. "When he was little, he couldn't say Evie. As he got older, he simply continued to call me Edie as his special name for me."
Placing his hand on hers, Josiah gave it a comforting squeeze. Even though they had not known this woman for long, all of the men respected her seemingly unwavering belief in her brother's integrity and his ability to survive this ordeal. Quietly, Josiah said "Yes ma'am" while hoping that God was indeed listening to her prayers.
Nodding in farewell to all of them, Evie picked up her skirt and headed back towards the hotel.
"She won't give a inch will she," JD said, respect lacing his words.
Standing beside Chris, watching her mother-in-law gracefully move across the street, Mary glanced back towards the young man before answering. "She can't."
"What more can you tell me about your brother and the man that was killed?" Chris asked, shifting his stance so he could scan the other end of town. The gunslinger had been heading to the jail when he spotted Evie bringing a tray back to the dining room. He had not had a chance to speak to her since Vin, JD and Josiah had left for Trevorville the previous afternoon.
Following her back down the hall, she told him that Nathan had given Orrin something to make him sleep after changing his bandage. Upon entering the room, Evie had closed the bedroom door to not wake her sleeping husband while Chris took up a position by the window.
"Smitty?" Evie finally answered, taking a seat. "Robert mentioned him a few times in his letters. He showed up in Trevorville after the war. No one knew his full name, where he had come from, or why he had come to town. He didn't really have any home to speak of. He'd do odd jobs around town in exchange for a meal or a place to sleep. Robert said he had felt sorry for him and had hired him a couple of times," Evie explained quietly.
"Was he working for your brother when he was killed?"
"I'm not sure. But I don't why know else he would have been on the property," Evie frowned, trying to think of anything else that would help.
"Would also explain how one of your brother's guns ended up with him," Chris mused. If this Smitty had been working on the ranch, he would have access to the ranch house and could have stolen the gun. Snapping his eyes up at a thought he asked, "How did they know for sure it was Weatherly's gun?"
"Several years ago, Robert's son, Evan, gave him a matched set of pearl handled colts with the ranch brand etched into the handles," Evie began.
"And it was one of them that was found with the body," Larabee finished. Getting a nod in confirmation, the gunslinger shook his head. Either this Robert Weatherly was a fool or he was being played for one.
Reading his face and surmising what he was thinking, Evie smiled slightly. She was quickly losing any doubts that she had done the right thing in coming to him with this situation. "Let me assure you Mr. Larabee that my brother is not stupid. If he was going to murder someone, he wouldn't leave behind something that would obviously lead the law straight to him."
Riding into Trevorville as dusk settled on the countryside, Vin, Josiah and JD ran appraising eyes over the little settlement on their way through it. While many of the buildings appeared to be occupied, the town still seemed deserted. What struck the riders the most was the aura of fear that permeated the settlement. The few people on the street shunned away from the riders as if they were afraid they would be punished for looking at them. Windows were covered with clothes so that no one on the outside could see in. And likewise, no one inside could be witness to the events outside. It was if the entire town was merely giving an appearance of prosperity... in reality no one was really alive.
Pulling to a stop outside of the jail, the three weary travelers eased down off their horses and paused to brush some of the dust from their clothing. It had been a long hard ride from Four Corners and all of them knew that come tomorrow morning, they would have to take that same trail back.
"Let's find the sheriff and tell him to get Weatherly ready for tomorrow. Then we'll get the horses settled and grab a bite to eat," Vin said to the group.
"Stables further down the street," Josiah observed, joining the tracker on the boardwalk.
"Don't look like a bad little town," JD said from the street. "Think it would be easy to find out who really killed that man in someplace like this."
Glancing silently at the tracker beside him, Josiah's low voice rumbled out to the younger man. "Looks can be deceiving son. Take Pompeii for example... from the outside it promised untold beauty and wealth. Inside, it was merely another den of evil that lead men to sin."
"Talkin' from experience there Josiah?" Vin chuckled, slapping the preacher's back on his way to the jail.
Grinning slightly, JD followed the older men as they tromped into the Trevorville jail. Behind the only desk in the cramped room, sat an broody looking man in his middle forties by the name of Troy Miles. Judge Travis had told them that Miles had been the sheriff in Trevorville for over ten years. During that time, there had been several times when Travis had questioned the lawman's methods, but he had never been able to scrounge up proof that he had actually broken the law.
"Sheriff," the tracker said, as he walked past the man to take a quick look at the prisoner to make sure he was alive and well. Nodding once to the man with the bluish-gray eyes looking back at him, Vin moved back and came to a halt in front of the desk. Satisfied, Vin stepped out of the way as the young sheriff stepped forward.
"I'm JD Dunne, sheriff of Four Corners. We're here to take Weatherly back for trial. Judge Cody was gonna wire you the papers."
"Yea, I got 'em," the lawman grumbled. Standing up as if to make himself seem more important, he laid one hand on hip and glared at the newcomers. "Don't mean I gotta like it though. And I ain't the only one. Folks around here were fond of Smitty. Want to make sure the bastard who shot him hangs for it."
"But these same folks what to make sure the right man is hung don't they?" Josiah interjected quietly from beside the window.
As there wasn't much for Miles to say at that without sounding like he had already condemned the man in custody, he simply sniffed in derision and turned to look for the paperwork he would need to fill out for the riders. While he was doing this, Josiah ambled over to the bars.
"Name's Sanchez. Suppose to tell you that Edie will see you when you get to Four Corners," the preacher said quietly, watching as a spark of life jumped into the man's eyes at the message. "Anyone we should notify about your leaving?" he asked.
"Would appreciate it if you could get word to my family. I haven't been allowed to see them since I was put here," the big man said, his voice gravelly and hoarse from non-use.
Turning back to the sheriff, Josiah raised an eyebrow at the lawman, partly in surprise, partly in condemnation.
Easing out of the dark alley and pausing in front of the door to the Clarion, a faceless shape dressed in dark clothes rattled the doorknob to see if he could gain a quick entrance. Thwarted by a slide bolt, the figure pulled a bandanna from his pocket and wrapped it carefully around his hand. Balling it into a fist, the figure drove it through one of the clear panes in the door, hoping the wind would cover the sound of the breaking glass. Reaching inside, the man began to run his hand down the side of door looking for the lock.
Intent on his task, the figure did not hear the steps on the boardwalk behind him. The feel a gun barrel jabbing into his back caused the figure to halt all movement even before he heard "Hold it right there" being hissed in his ear.
"Both arms into the air," Ezra snapped, pulling the man's revolver from it's holster before stepping back.
Slowly the dark figure did as he was told. Holding both arms into the air, the figure chanced a quick glance behind him to judge if Ezra was vulnerable to attack. Catching the movement, Ezra tightened his grip on his gun. "Unless you would like to feel the unpleasant sensation of a bullet entering your body, I suggest you veer from your present course of thinking," the southern warned. "Now move... into the light where I can see who you are."
Haltingly, the stranger began to move down the boardwalk. Stepping into the street, the figure caught the slightest movement in the shadows of the alley as he passed. Not reacting to it, the man smiled silently into the night air and bided his time. A few more steps down the street and the figure heard the muffled thud of a body hitting the ground. Spinning around, he saw the lawman crumpled on the ground and recognized the shape of the figure bending over him picking up the gun.
Holding out his hand, the would-be burglar waived for the newcomer to hand him his gun. "Good thing you was around," he said sliding the colt into its holster before nudging the gambler with his foot. "Whatcha wanna do with this one?"
"Leave him. Get out town before you are seen," he said looking up and down the street.
"But... I didn't...," the first man began to stutter.
"Forget it. Move. Before you ruin everything!" the second man said as he headed across the street to dart down an alley.
"Come on now. Open them eyes Ezra...," Nathan encouraged as he ran the bottle of smelling salts under the gambler's nose.
"Ugh." The gambler started awake and instinctively tried to jerk away. When that didn't work, he tried to waive away the offensive odor in his face. His movements were restrained by the healer who had anticipated his reactions.
"Easy, it's all right," Nathan soothed, setting the bottle on the bedside table.
Sinking back into the bed, Ezra's eyes flew back open. "Mary... there was a man...," he trailed off when he saw Nathan nodding understandingly.
"Chris is moving her and Billy over to the hotel now. He was on his way to relieve Buck when he found you in the street. Guessed that you must of interrupted something."
Relaxing, Ezra realized he was in Nathan's room. Raising a hand, the southern gingerly felt his head. "I take it that nothing is broken," he dryly observed.
"Nope, but you're gonna have a headache for a day or two. Here, drink this. It'll take the edge off so you can get some sleep. By mornin' you should feel better."
Grimacing, the gambler handed back the glass. "As usual, abominable."
The healer grinned as he stood up and lowered the lamp. "I'll check on ya later."
Shifting in his saddle, Vin watched Sheriff Miles help Weatherly onto his horse. Seeing him for the first time in daylight, Vin took the opportunity to appraise the tall man in restraints. Streaks of gray were pronounced in the man's auburn hair and mustache. The broad, muscular shoulders, weathered hands, and creases on his face spoke of a life of hard work. Vin appreciated the fact that even in his older years, the man sat a horse like he had been born there. The tracker didn't miss the glimmer of pleasure that flashed over Weatherly's face as he quickly settled into the saddle. It was just like he had slipped into his favorite piece of clothing and was waiting for the peace that he knew would soon follow. Vin knew that feeling. 'I know just what he's feelin',' Vin thought to himself with a smile. More than once he had done the exact same thing when he was going riding after being cooped up in town.
Once the lawman was sure the prisoner was settled, he moved over and handed Vin a key to the handcuffs. "Still don't like this. Man should be hung here for killin' one of ours," Miles grumbled again.
"Little early to be thinkin' of a hangin' ain't it Sheriff? Man ain't even been tried yet," the tracker said quietly, tucking the key into his coat pocket. Dismissing the lawman with a look, the tracker turned his head to check on the progress of the rest of the group.
Giving his saddle one more shake to make sure it was secure, Josiah eased his large frame into the leather. Adjusting the reins in his hand, he nodded once to Vin to let the tracker know he was ready. As he did this, JD came out of the telegraph office and trotted down the street. Stopping on the boardwalk in front of the horses, JD unwrapped his reins from the railing.
"Chris said there had been trouble in town," the young sheriff said leaping on the back of his horse. "Said if we weren't back by day after tomorrow he'd come hunting for us," he added, confidence in the gunslinger's ability to find them if necessary in his voice.
Nodding in acknowledgement, the tracker cut his eyes back toward the prisoner. "You ready?" he asked, knowing that if there was trouble on the trail, it would be this tall older man who would be in the most danger.
"Not much of a choice is it," Robert said dryly, appreciating the irony of situation. He had worked his entire life to make this part of the country a better place for folks to live and to leave his family a legacy. Now someone was trying to kill him for it... to take it all away. Looking up the street, he silently shook his head. If he stayed in the town, he'd be hung before he ever had a chance to be tried. If he left, there was a good chance he would be gunned down before he reached Four Corners. Either way, he would never see his home or family again. Fixing his eyes on his son and grandson sitting in the buckboard across the street, he nodded once to them before turning back to the men who had come for him. "Let's do it."
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely
I love thee purely,
I love with a passion put to use
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
I love thee with the breath of all my life
I shall love thee better after death.
- The Forgotten One
Blushing at the forwardness of the letter, Mary quickly folded the note and shoved it back into the envelope. Slipping it into the box with the other one, she laid her hands on her flaming cheeks waiting for them to return to their normal color so that she could leave the building. She had been on her way to deliver papers when she had found it leaning against her door.
Whoever this Forgotten One is, he is moving far too fast she thought, gathering the periodicals back into her arms. Pausing at the door to blow out a long calming breath, Mary plastered a smile on her face and opened the door to begin her daily route.
Walking down the street on his way to the hotel to relieve Ezra on guard duty, Buck's attention was drawn to the man and woman conversing on the sidewalk outside of the Clarion. Watching them, Buck saw Mary throw her head back to laugh at something Terrell had just told her. 'It seems like them two are getting friendly' the ladies man thought, frowning at the implications that popped into his head. His thoughts were interrupted when he walked into the solid form of Nathan Jackson.
"Buck, one of these days you're gonna break your neck watchin' women," the healer chided, steadying both of them.
"Long as that's the only thing I break," Buck said grinning slyly. Sobering, he nodded across the street where Mary and John had begun to walk slowly while still conversing. "It's that that I'm lookin' at," he added. "Them two are gettin' mighty friendly. Next thing ya know, he'll be takin' Billy fishin'."
"Just cause the man's bein' nice, don't mean anythin' is goin' on between em'. 'Sides, after that scare last night, it's good to see Mary laughin'," Nathan said watching the pair part and go their separate ways.
Buck shook his head as he looked at the back of the retreating form. "You mark my words, Nathan. That man has his eye set on Mary." Turning his head slightly, he nodded at Chris standing down the street a short ways away. "And I ain't the only one who thinks that."
Following Buck's line of sight, Nathan shook his head again, but grinned at the thought of the great Chris Larabee having a contender for Mary's affections. The smile disappeared as he passed on the latest news to Buck. "Somebody tried to break into her place last night. Now where else do you think he'd be today except watchin' to make sure nobody bothers her."
Allowing his horse to pick it's route down the incline, Vin cast a wary eye across the rocky terrain that overshadowed the trail. Something didn't feel right. Pulling his rifle, the tracker signaled for the others to wait a minute while he checked out the surrounding area. Sliding from his horse, he had only taken a few steps when a barrage of bullets sent rock shards ricocheting into him. Scrambling for cover, he heard the sound of Josiah's and JD's guns join into the fray.
Pausing to catch his breath behind a boulder, Vin poked his head out to try to locate his comrades and the shooter. Getting a signal from JD that they were all right, the tracker began to scan the rock face for signs of movement. By then, the bullets had trickled to a few well placed shots meant to keep the men pinned down.
Not spotting the sniper, the Texan turned his attention to finding a different position for another look. Glancing around, Vin grimaced as he realized any attempt to move would likely result in being wounded. There just wasn't anything to give him cover close at hand. Settling back down, he whistled to catch the other's attention. Getting it, he gestured that he was going to make a mad dash. In response, JD waived for him to stay where he was. Frowning, Vin held his ground.
Choosing his foot placements carefully, Josiah eased himself around another boulder. He knew he was close to the shooters. The acrid smell of gunpowder hung in the air like a morning mist burning his eyes, nose and throat. The big man blinked rapidly to clear his blurred vision.
Leaning forward, Sanchez placed his hand on the next boulder and began to take a step when the pebbles under his feet shifted, throwing him momentarily off balance. Catching himself, Josiah swore under his breath. Although the sound was only slightly audible, it had probably revealed his approach. The big man's suspicions were confirmed when a man suddenly appeared a short distance from him. Spotting each other, both fired while simultaneously diving for cover.
Pain burned up Josiah's side as he felt a bullet tear a path across his thigh. Grunting on impact, the big man hustled for cover while trying to locate the shooter. After a few minutes, the pounding of retreating hooves reached the preacher's ears.
Using the boulder for leverage, Josiah stood and began limping in the direction where he had seen the shooter emerge. Finding a discarded box of rifle shells and two empty rifles, the big man called down to the others before he leaned against a rock to tend to his leg.
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