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.
"So... after that, I decided that I would keep the paper open, as a legacy for Billy," Mary said, smiling and shrugging as if everyone would have done the same thing. Picking up the coffee pot, Mary began to refill the older Travis' cups.
"Remarkable," John said, admiration clearly evident in his voice. "And you see nothing usual in all of this?"
"Oh no, she sees it as absolutely normal," Evie said lightly, a smile lighting up her face. "A lone woman, in a untamed western town, running a business by herself. I'm sure in all your travels, Mr. Terrell, you've probably met...," Evie paused, as if trying to decide what would be an accurate number. "Why, I'm not sure I should even hazard a guess at the number like her that you have met," she teased, her face the picture of seriousness. She held the expression until she finally had to burst out laughing at the exasperated glare on Mary's face.
"As you can tell, my dear wife has discussed this point with Mary before," Orrin said with a smile, explaining the unspoken communication between Mary and Evie.
Giving the older woman one final glare for embarrassing her, Mary tore her eyes away and turned towards their guest. "More coffee, Mr. Terrell?" she asked politely, giving herself time to recover as she filled all of the cups. Setting the pot back down, she smiled at the man who had rescued her father in law. "What about you? Do you have family waiting for you somewhere?"
Swallowing the sip of coffee he had just taken, John slowly shook his head as he glance around the virtually empty hotel dining room. Movement of one of the town's lawmen outside the hotel window grabbed his attention until he realized that he was being spoken to.
"Surely, there is someone. Mother? Father? Wife?" Evie inquired, curiosity about this stranger causing her to be bold.
"No, I'm afraid there is only me," Terrell said, smiling slightly as he set the cup back onto the saucer. "I'm afraid the saga of my meager existence is not exactly a happy story." Looking up to questioning eyes watching him, John set back in his chair and conceded to himself that he would have to tell them something. 'Why not? It's only right they hear the truth.'
"My parents were both very young when they married. Against their families' wishes I might add. They were simply from different backgrounds and experiences. She had been pampered her whole life, he had to work for everything. Neither family thought it would work out and," sighing resignedly, John said, "it didn't. She ran off with another man when I was 1 ½ years old. Even though I was so young, I still remember the smell of the lilac water she always wore and the sound of her laughter. It would echo off of the walls and cascade around you like the wind," his voice trailed off lost in the memory.
After a few minutes of silence, John gave the group a small smile before he picked up his coffee cup to take another sip. When he set it back down, he continued his story. "My father had quite a time of trying to raise me by himself for the next couple of years. I suppose the fact that he never recovered from her desertion didn't help any. He did eventually remarry... a widow woman with two boys of her own. For a couple of years at least I had a family. When I was nine, both my father and step-mother died within a month of each other." Acknowledging the sympathetic looks from the Travis, he continued. "No one wanted to take on a half-grown boy so I was bounced between staying at an orphanage and with my stepbrothers. They were quite a bit older than me and could work by this time doing odd jobs at different places. Sometimes, their bosses would let me come stay with them while they were there. Most of the time, though, I was on my own."
"Oh my.... and so young," Evie said clutching Orrin's arm, distressed by the obvious abandonment of a child.
John smiled slightly as if trying to shrug off that it had been a hardship on him. "When I was 14, I started working at a small ranch west of here. The family, the Petersons were decent folks who took a liking to me. I suppose you could say they kinda of adopted me... made sure I had enough to eat, clothes to wear, a roof over my head. When I was 20 their foreman was killed when a bull broke loose and stomped him to death. They put me in charge of the entire place then. I think they even had their hearts set on me marrying their only daughter, Amanda. She was a pretty young woman about two years younger than me."
"So why didn't you?" Mary asked, caught up in the story.
"One night I was awakened by the smell of smoke. When I got out of the bunkhouse, I saw that the entire house was in flames. None of them made it out," he quietly answered, toying with the edge of the table cloth while listening to the sudden intakes of breath from the occupants at the table as the implication of what he was saying struck them.
Clearing his throat, John blinked back the tears in his eyes. "After that, well, come to find out that the Mr. Peterson left his ranch to me. So, I rebuilt the house and kept on doing what I had been doing... punching cows." Sitting up a little straighter, a note of pride entered his voice. "Have turned it into a nice size operation too. Just got my first contract with the army to supply them with beef. That's why I was on the stage... on my way to Fort Laramie to iron out the details."
"Well." Evie was the first to recover from the sad story. She reached across and laid her hand on John's uninjured arm. "I, for one, am very glad you were on that stage," she said squeezing it slightly.
"You boys are not your typical lawmen," Robert Weatherly observed as he sat around the campfire with his three escorts. By the time they had rounded up their scattered horses after the ambush, they had lost several hours of travel time. They would have to ride extra hard and hope for no more surprises if they were going to make it to Four Corners in two days. "You know if Sheriff Miles finds me here with no handcuffs, those little veins on the side of his head will burst."
Snorting at the visualization, Vin leaned back on his saddle. "Miles ain't been out of Trevorville in ten years. Sides, iffin' you were goin' to escape, you would of shot all of us when Josiah gave you his long gun."
"Which, by the way, was a big risk on your part," Weatherly said, glancing at the large man leaning on the saddle closest to him. "No handcuffs. A rifle. Your provisions." Robert shook his head. "I could of been long gone and it would have been days before anyone even knew."
Smiling slightly, Josiah nodded in agreement. "It was a risk, but there is a woman waiting for you in Four Corners who has an awful lot of faith in your integrity. And she doesn't seem like a woman to give it unless it is deserved." Winking conspiratorially, he added, "Besides, I figured if I was wrong, you'd eventually be caught and have to face her. Then you'd get your *just* reward."
"No fury like a woman scorned?" Robert chuckled. "Evie can be a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure."
"It worked out pretty good too. It let Josiah get behind that guy and we didn't have to do anything but wait for him to call out," JD chipped in, from the guard position a short ways away.
Leaning forward to refill his coffee cup, Tanner thumped Josiah's boot and threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the younger man. "Can tell he wasn't the one who got shot or pinned down and hit by them rock shards."
Joining into the laughter briefly, Robert sobered and twirled his cup absentmindedly. "I am sorry you got shot Sanchez. Never meant for anyone to get hurt cause of my problems," he said, watching the coffee swirl in his cup.
Stepping off the morning stage, Territorial Judge Nicholas Cody paused a moment in the late afternoon sun to ease the ache in his back. He hated stagecoaches. But his alternative was to travel by horseback, which he hated even more. Glancing around the town to locate the jail, the middle aged man turned back to catch the bag being dropped by the driver before moving towards it. He was halfway across the street when a tall man with a mustache stopped in front of him.
"Judge Cody?" Buck asked. Getting a nod in affirmative, the mustached man dropped in step with him and stuck out his hand in greeting. "Buck Wilmington. Judge Travis asked me to meet ya and take ya to the hotel to get settled."
"I understand Travis was injured. How is he?" Cody inquired as they moved down the boardwalk.
Dismissing the subject with a wave, Buck grinned. "A little graze like that ain't gonna keep an old war dog like Travis down for long. He'll be ready to start the trial when Weatherly gets here."
"And when will that be?"
"Next day or so," Buck said, as he ushered the man into the hotel.
Waiting for the desk clerk to give him a key, Cody glanced around the lobby. His eyes widened when they came upon the form of Ezra Standish casually sitting in the corner of the room with a small smirk on this face.
Raising two fingers to his hat brim, Ezra saluted the newcomer as he watched the Judge visibly straighten at the sight of him. The gambler was pleased that his name did not have to be used to persuade Cody to come to Four Corners. It gave him the element of surprise and it was always good to catch your opponent off guard.
Watching the silent interchange between the two men, Buck's curiosity was peaked further when the Judge grabbed the edge of the counter for support. "You know him?" he asked the Judge, nodding towards the southerner.
Clearing his throat, Cody tore his eyes away from the sitting man and glanced back at Buck. "Er... we met once... a long time ago." Trying to collect himself, the man adjusted his coat before holding out his hand for his bag. "Well, if you'll excuse me, it's been a long trip," he said with a meaningful look.
Sitting on the bed beside the bag he had just dropped, Cody ran a shaky hand through his hair before holding it out in front of him watching the tremors that ran through it. Gripping it into a fist, he shook his head at himself. Seeing the southerner like that had brought it all back.
It was almost six years prior... in an alley on the docks of New Orleans. Sitting in the hotel room in Four Corners, he could still smell the stench of rotten fish, urine, and vomit that seemed to permeate the alleyway. He could see the shapes of the slovenly dressed men as they appeared from nowhere to surround him, evil sneers on their faces, assorted weapons in their hands... a club that had once been a chair leg, a knife, a broken bottle, a chain. He felt again the rapid pounding of his heart and the feeling of his throat going suddenly dry and constricting with the knowledge that these men were going to hurt — possibly kill — him. He could hear their snide, guttural laughter as they taunted and jeered at him while two held him and the other two pounded on him.
"Not so high 'n mighty are ya now."
"Too good for the likes of us huh."
"Let's see iffin he bleeds like the blue blood he thinks he is."
"I told ya ya hadn't seen the last of us."
And then, that southern voice from behind. "Ah gentlemen... I see you found Mr. Cody for me."
Jumping up, Cody flung open the window and took several rapid breathes of the dusty air coming in to try to calm his rolling stomach. Bracing himself against the window sill with one hand, the Territorial Judge wished he had never agreed to come to Four Corners.
My Dearest Mary,
I came upon this and immediately thought of you. Soon we shall be together and I will be able to express my undying love for you in person. Until then, I will continue to watch you and wonder...
If you but knew
How all my days seemed filled with dreams of you,
How sometimes in the silent night
Your eyes thrill through me with their tender light,
How oft I hear your voice when others speak,
How you 'mid other forms I seek-
Oh, love more real than though such dreams were true
If you but knew.
Could you guess How you alone make all my happiness,
My lover and likewise my truest friend.
- The Forgotten One
Mary blew out a breath. 'This is getting serious. Who is it? Surely not Chris... I can't see him leaving love notes at my door. Besides he didn't have any idea what that first one was.' Pacing around, Mary absentmindedly tapped the note on her chin. 'Vin? No... he'd be too shy. Besides it's not his handwriting. Buck... too subtle.' Snorting she added 'Too sophisticated.' Another thought came to her. 'Ezra.' After a moment, she shook her head. 'No. Flowers, wine, chocolates, reading poetry... yes. Anonymous notes... not his style. JD, Josiah, Nathan? None of them seems likely. Who else??' One more name suddenly popped into her head. 'John Terrell.'
'Oh my.' The thought that a man she just met could be doing this both excited and scared her. It wasn't that she was interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Until something was settled between her and Chris — one way or another — she wouldn't even consider that. She simply felt too much for the black clad gunfighter to walk away without trying. No, this was different. Glancing back down at the words on the paper in her hand, she blushed again. She was flattered by its content.
The sound of steps on the boardwalk outside caused Mary to look up. Seeing that she was soon to have a visitor, she dashed back to the printer stand. Folding the note back up, Mary slipped it into the box as Judge Travis came through the Clarion door. Spinning guiltily she nervously greeted the man. "Orrin. Should you be out of the hotel?"
Easing down onto a stool, Orrin starred a little disbelievingly at the young woman in front of him. "That seems an unusual question coming from someone who is in as much danger as I am and yet who insists on traipsing around the town like she doesn't have a care in the world."
"That's different," Mary waived him off. "Besides, it's not like I am ever without at least one escort." Seeing a questioning look on Orrin face, she moved closer to the window and pointed across the street. "In all the time I have lived in this town, I can honestly tell you that I have never seen Nathan sitting in front of the boardinghouse." Looking back, she added, "He's been there ever since I walked in here two hours ago. Before that, it was Buck shadowing me as I picked up a few things at the store and visited Mrs. Jenkins. I can bet that whoever isn't keeping on an eye on the hotel will be with me. I'll be fine," she smiled, squeezing his shoulder before moving back to her work.
"Still Mary," Orrin insisted, "you cannot deny that you and Billy are as much of a target as Evie and I are. If I can't convince you, surely what happened the other night should. Have you thought about what might of happened if Mr. Standish hadn't interrupted that man?" Watching as the silent woman moved around the room as if she had not heard the question posed to her, Orrin got the message that she did not wish to discuss it. 'Woman's been spending too much time with Larabee... she starting to act like him!' Blowing out a troubled breath, the older man decided he would take a different tact. "What does Chris think about you staying?"
Setting down the bundle of papers she had picked up to move, Mary paused. "Chris and I discussed it after you sent me the telegram warning that Billy and I may be in danger."
"And?"
Finally turning back to look at her father-in-law, Mary's voice was even when she said, "He knows it's my decision to make." Seeing Orrin stiffen at the subtle rebuke, Mary moved to him. Picking up his hand, she looked nervously at their hands rather than him. "Orrin, I know what you are doing... and why you are doing it. But this is my home. In all the years — with all of the outlaws who have caused problems — I have left it only once. And that was when those men took over the town and were going to burn it after killing Sheriff Bryce. I can't just leave because something might happen. If I did that, when would it stop?"
Squeezing her hand, Orrin finally nodded, feeling like he understood this high spirited woman a little bit better. Sighing resignedly, he rose. "Well, I suppose if you're going to get that paper out tomorrow, I should let you get back to work." Stopping at the door, he paused and glanced back at her. 'A remarkable woman. Reminds me of Evie.' With that thought, he nodded once more at her before he opened the door and stepped through it.
Still shaking his head in awe, Orrin glanced across the street at the healer before turning to speak to the black clad gunslinger lounging against the building next door. Jerking his thumb back towards the Clarion, he sighed. "You were right. She won't budge." Allowing a slight grin to cover his face, he straightened. "Well, all I can say is your life won't be dull as long as she's in it."
Stepping out of the jail, Ezra paused upon seeing the riders moving slowly up the street in the fading light. Pausing only long enough to call for Chris inside the building, he moved to lean against the post and wait. The jingle of spurs behind him told him that the gunslinger had joined him on the boardwalk.
"Gentlemen," the southerner said as the riders pulled to a halt before them. "I take it that your trip was not uneventful," he said, nodding towards Josiah and the obvious bandage on his leg.
"Nothing that we couldn't handle," Vin said, dropping to the ground and moving to hand the southerner the reins to his and Robert's horse. Nodding at the two on the boardwalk, he spoke to the older man who had also dismounted. "Ezra Standish. Chris Larabee. This here is Robert Weatherly. Let's get you under some cover," the tracker said, escorting him into the building. On his way by Larabee, he caught the questioning look at the lack of handcuffs on the prisoner. Grinning at the gunfighter, Vin silently told him he would explain it all later.
"Come on, Josiah. Nathan will want to look at that leg," JD said, reaching to take the reins of the riderless horses from Ezra.
"I'll go tell Mrs. Travis her brother has arrived safely," the southerner said to Chris before striding towards the hotel.
Walking into the jail house, Chris quietly watched as the newcomer eased himself onto the bunk in the cell. He was surprised when Vin followed Weatherly in, handing him a second blanket and exchanging words with him. Although he couldn't hear what passed between Vin and the prisoner, he knew it concerned him when Vin glanced back grinning. After a few more minutes, the tracker exited the cell, leaving the door unlocked.
The sound of rapidly approaching steps drew the occupants eyes toward the jail doorway. They relaxed as Evie Travis brushed through it. Pausing, she scanned the interior until they landed on the target of her search.
Slowly moving towards the cells in the back, she threw the tracker a questioning look. Upon seeing it, he stepped forward and pulled the unlocked door open so that she could enter and be enveloped in a hug from the now standing man inside. Retreating with Chris to the outside boardwalk, Vin and the gunslinger tried to give the siblings as much privacy as possible.
Dropping onto the chair outside, Vin watched as Chris leaned against the post and habitually scanned the shadows for signs of anything unusual. "More trouble?" the tracker questioned quietly, acknowledging that he knew something had happened in his absence.
Glancing back, Chris shook his head. "Not unless you brought some back with you."
"Possible," the tracker acknowledged looking around the town. "Was ambushed once and then had someone shadowing us. Tried to find him a couple times, but he kept movin' every time I got close. Was wastin' too much time lookin' and I figured we'd meet up soon enough anyway."
"Order in the court. This court is now in session," Nicholas Cody banged the gavel to emphasis that he expected the surprisingly large crowd to settle in their seats and be quiet. It seemed that word had spread about the trial that could result in hanging a Federal Judge's brother in law.
When Cody had finally stared down the last noisemaker, he turned stoic eyes to the prosecuting attorney who had made it to town that morning. "Mr. Jacoby, are you ready to precede?"
"Yes your honor, I am," the prosecutor affirmed, dropping his spectacles to dangle on a chain down his front, while standing to begin his arguments.
Watching the thin middle-age, slightly balding man approach the jury to begin his opening arguments, Orrin quietly assessed his opponent. Although he had never seen or heard Jacob Jacoby while on the bench, he had heard of the man's impeccable record for attaining convictions on very little evidence. Listening to him outlining the case against Robert, he knew why.
There are some people in the world who have a memorizing quality to their voice. Once they begin to speak, they make the most unbelievable thing sound not only believable, but also likely. Like a snake charmer, they weave intricate patterns of speech which leave the listener daze and confused until they have little choice but to nod in agreement. Jacoby was one of those people.
Orrin grinned, relishing in the challenge before him. There was something that most people in these parts didn't know about Judge Orrin Travis. He was once Prosecuting Attorney Orrin Travis.
And he too was known to be able to turn a phrase or two.
"Full house," Ezra grinned, as he laid queens over fours on the table, his gold tooth shining in the glittering lamp light. As the four other players grumbled slightly and tossed their cards face down, the southerner pulled the pile of money in the center of the table towards him. Diligently stacking the bills and placing them to one side, he looked expectantly at the other players. "I believe it's my deal?" he asked innocently.
Two of the players pushed back indicating they were finished. As they left the table, Ezra watched as a potential player moved closer. Sitting back in his chair, he smiled at the newcomer. "Judge Cody, would you care to join us?" he questioned, sweeping his arm towards the empty chairs.
Easing down into one of them, Cody said lightly with an even stare, "I don't know if this is a good idea or not. The last time I set down at a table with you, it cost me dearly."
Raising an eyebrow, Ezra met the man stare for stare. "Ah, yes... I've been meaning to speak with you about that. Perhaps in the next day or two you would be so kind as to join me for a drink?" the southerner drawled back to the Judge. Receiving a quiet nod, the gambler glanced at the remaining players. "Jacks or better?" he asked, beginning to deal out the hands.
Easing onto the roof of the mercantile while leaving the rope dangling in the shadows, Charlie McKeely crab walked across the dark roof top to the front part of the building. Using the light of the half moon overhead and the defused light cast off by the fires in the street below, the lean man located the front edge and eased himself onto his stomach. Sliding the rifle from under his body, he brought it up to his shoulder and looked down the sights. 'Oh yeah... this'll do just fine.'
Slowly moving the gun in-line with the movements of the tall man moving up the street towards the jail, the sniper whispered "bang" at the figure before lowering the gun and grinning evilly. Tearing his eyes away from his pretend target, McKeely watched the movements in the jail through the top of the windows and the glass in the door. Squinting into the lighted interior, he could see the lawman setting at the desk with his feet on the top of it. Looking further into the building, he finally made out the shape of the figure on the cot in the back cell opposite the door. Putting the rifle back up, the man settled in behind the weapon and peered down the sights pointing at his target. Frowning, he momentarily raised his head; his view was blocked when the man he had just "shot" in the street entered the jail and stood inside of the door. Waiting for a few minutes, the latecomer finally moved to swap places with the man at the desk.
Readjusting his sights, Charlie grinned as held his breath and pulled the trigger. Immediately levering another shell into the chamber, he fired again before scrambling back to the waiting rope and the horse below.
Nearing the boardwalk outside of the jail, the hair on the back of Buck's neck suddenly stood on end. He had the undeniable feeling that he was being watched. Pausing in the darkness outside of the door, the big man silently scanned the street letting his eyes adjust and penetrate into the various shadows cast by the buildings before moving on. Not spotting anything out of the usual, Buck shook himself and snorted. 'Gettin' jumpy over nothin'.' Still, the feeling did not go away as he reached and opened the door.
"You want me to get you another pillow or something?" JD asked, looking up as he heard Robert shift positions for the fifth time in ten minutes.
"Another pilla ain't gonna help that thing," Buck snorted from the interior of the doorway overhearing the young Sheriff's question as he entered.
Sitting up, Robert had to agree. "This thing is worse than trying to sleep on a bunch of rocks," he said, shoving the blanket off himself and slowly rising, arching and flexing his back as he rose. "One night is definitely enough. Any more than that and I'll be one of Jackson's patients." Tossing his bedding onto the floor, he began to bend down when Buck stopped him.
"Hey now... there's no need for ya to be sleepin' on the floor. You just open that door there and get yourself into that far cell. Tickin' in the mattress was just replaced after some fella decided he'd rip it up. There's a clean blanket in there and everything."
"Well I'm not going to argue with you about it that's for sure," Robert said tossing the blanket back onto the bunk behind him before pushing open the door and moving to the corner cell. Entering it, the tall man eased his frame onto the bed and settled in, a resounding sigh escaping his lips as he sunk into the freshly stuffed feather mattress.
Grinning, Buck moved over towards the desk and swiped at JD's feet propped on the edge of it. "Well, whatcha waitin' for? Christmas? Go on... get outta here and go get yourself some sleep," he said gruffly, teasing the young man.
Standing up, JD stepped around the big man poking him in the ribs on the way because of the teasing. "I'm going," he snorted. "Would of been gone twenty minutes ago if you would've been on time."
"Yeah, well son," Buck sighed, settling into the chair. "Something's just ain't meant to be rushed. And leavin' Blossom is one of 'em."
Shaking his head in amusement at the workings of Buck's seemingly one track mind, JD grinned. "How come you never say that when her husband comes home?" Dodging Buck's playful swipe, Dunne turned to leave when the first bullet shattered the glass in the door.
Bounding to his feet at the sound of the gunshots resounding in the night air, Ezra snuffed the lamp that had been throwing dim shadows in the hallway on his way to the window. Standing to one side, he peeked between the curtain and the molding, trying to see where the gunfire had come from. Scanning the street, he could distinguish Chris, Josiah and Nathan as they cautiously came from different directions heading towards the jail.
"Buck?" Chris called out.
"Came from up high," the tall mustached man yelled back. Standing in the now darkened jailhouse, Buck gripped the rifle in his hand while scanning the rooftops for movement. Chancing a look back, he could make out JD's shape as he knelt in the shadows covering the back door in case anyone tried to charge through it.
"I'll head around that way," Nathan whispered before quietly moving into the night towards the south.
Tapping the ex-preacher on the shoulder, Chris pointed him in the opposite direction. Waiting until the big man disappeared into the darkness, Chris crept onto the boardwalk to stand next to the jail window always watching for movement.
In a few minutes, Nathan called out from the alley across the way. "Comin' out." Followed by Josiah, the two men stopped at the bottom of the steps. "Whoever it was is gone. Rope's hanging off of that building," the healer said pointing to the mercantile across the street, "and there's tracks behind it where a horse was waiting and then ran off."
The flare of a match inside the building told the others that its occupants had heard the report. The sound of the door opening and glass crunching under their feet announced the men's entrance. Scanning the interior, Chris spotted Robert standing inside the far right cell.
Weatherly smiled and raised an eyebrow at Chris as he got nearer. "Still in one piece."
'Today's court session seems to be dragging on and on,' thought Orrin as he tried again to get his brother-in-law's attention. Finally getting it, even if only briefly, he whispered, "What is it?" Weatherly had been preoccupied most of the day. At first, Travis had chalked it up to the attempt the previous night on his life. But as the day wore on, he wasn't so sure. Every time Orrin had asked him about it, Robert would shake his head or would shrug him off, a deep frown on his face. Finally Robert leaned over to Travis. "The man in the string tie sitting by Mary... do you know who he is?"
Glancing back to confirm the person he thought had been there was still there, Orrin answered. "Name's John Terrell. He was on the stage with me when it was attacked. You know him?"
Frowning again, Robert shook his head. "No, but something about him seems awfully familiar." Pausing a moment, recognition flashed over his face. Gripping Orrin's arm, Robert tensed. "He looks just like Evie's first husband Carl. You mean she hasn't noticed it?"
"Carl?" Evie paled at the name and sank into a nearby chair. "But that's not possible," she whispered obviously upset by the comparison.
After the court session had ended, Robert had asked to see Evie to discuss his revelation. Chris had escorted both her and Mary to jail and was now watching the scene playing out in front of him. Perhaps now he would find out the real reason this Terrell fellow bothered him so much.
Shaking her head in response to Chris' questioning look, Mary poured Evie a glass of water and threw Robert a puzzled glance while trying to help the older woman steady the glass. "Carl who?" she asked, eyes darting to each person looking for an answer.
"Carl Rowe," Evie whispered, obviously preoccupied with her own thoughts and memories.
Seeing confirmation and reservation in the two men's faces, Chris tensed. Obviously, whoever this man was, he had a strong — and unhappy — connection to the family. "Who's Carl Rowe?"
Laying a steadying hand on his wife's shoulder, Orrin waited until she looked at him so he could silently ask permission to explain. Receiving a nod from her, the older man looked at Chris. "He was Evie's first husband."
Chris couldn't stop the surprise that flashed over his face.
"I was only sixteen when I met him and he swept me off my feet," Evie explained, her voice holding a haunting quietness to it. "He was so handsome and strong. We had only seen each other a couple times when he asked Pa for my hand. I was thrilled, but Pa said he was trouble. Said that if I wanted to marry him that he wouldn't stop me but I shouldn't expect him to help me if things didn't work out."
"The first couple months were absolute wonderful. We didn't have a lot but I didn't care. Carl was everything I could ever want. We built a little place on the far edge of Pa's land and everything seemed to be fine until one day, I realized I was pregnant. I thought Carl would be thrilled but he wasn't. He said it was too soon for a baby. He was probably right, but what could I do," Evie looked at Mary, desperately seeking some type of reassurance that at least she understood.
Gripping the older woman's hand in comfort, Mary eased into a chair beside her. Nodding encouragingly, she prodded the older woman to continue. "So what did he do?"
Dropping her gaze, the older woman's voice dropped in volume to the point that all movement stopped so that it might be heard. "He got mean. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't make it right with him. He would remind me everyday that he didn't want a child messing up his life, but... I did. I wanted that baby. I thought that once Carl saw him... had a chance to hold him... then he would accept him." Sadly, Evie slowly shook her head, her eyes looking unseeingly around the room. "But he didn't. He wouldn't even touch him."
Shock flooded through Mary as the implications of Evie's words sunk in. Evie had had another son before Stephen. 'But why haven't I met or even heard about him before now?' Flashing a quick glance to the chiseled faces of the men around them, Mary tried to catch Evie's attention. "Evie, what happened to the child? Where is he?"
Mary saw a flash of pain cross the older woman's face before she quickly averted it and raised pleading eyes towards Robert.
Locking eyes with his much-loved sister, Robert shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "About a year and half after the baby was born, we had a really wet spring. Rivers were all running over their banks and still the rain fell. Evie and Carl had been into town and were on their way home during a particularly heavy deluge when they were crossing Spring Creek. A flash flood slammed into their buckboard and took it off of the bridge." Again the man cleared his throat before turning to look out the window. "I happened to be heading over to check on Evie and the boy when I spotted the wreckage. I found her a quarter mile down the stream... half dead, moaning for her son."
Silence descended on the room for several seconds until Robert turned eyes bright with tears back towards Evie. Even after all these years, a tinge of regret could be heard in Robert's voice as he continued. "I looked everywhere, but I didn't see the others. Evie was hurt bad and loosing ground quickly, so I did the only thing I could...I gave up the search and took her home." A small tight smile crossed his face. "Pa showed up at the house not long after we got there and went after the doctor. We weren't sure she was going to make it, but slowly she fought off the fever and began to get better." Averting his eyes from Evie, he faced the others. "We never found the other bodies. Figured they were washed downstream and animals had gotten a hold of them."
Straightening in the chair, Evie drew a deep breath and brushed the tears off her cheeks. "Once I was well enough, Pa decided that I needed to get away from the memories. So he packed my things and had Robert take me back east. And that's when I met Orrin," she smiled and turned tear filled eyes towards her husband standing behind her.
Chris' eyes narrowed as his mind whirled with possibilities because of the new information. Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence that John Terrell was on that stage. Pursing his lips, he decided to keep his suspicions to himself. Mrs. Travis had been through enough. Running his eyes over the older woman, Chris read the strain the past several minutes had had on her in her ashy gray complexion.
Chris knew Orrin was thinking the same thing when he said, "Come dear, I think it's time for you to be going back to the hotel and rest," as he took her arm and slowly helped her to her feet.
Throwing her husband a look to say she needed a minute, Evie moved into Robert's embrace and rested her head on his chest as he laid his chin on the top of her head. Evie tightened her grip on him. After a few moments, she pulled back and turned her face upward. Placing her hands on the side of his head, she forced him to look down at her. "I never blamed you," was all she said. Feeling the shudder that cascaded through Robert's frame, Evie waited until she saw the strength return to his eyes before she let him go and walked out of the jail on Orrin's arm.
Chris glanced at the woman who had moved beside him. Seeing her eyes bright with tears, he turned and placed comforting hands on her upper arms. "You could use some rest too," he murmured softly, seeing fatigue similar to Evie's mirrored in her face. He knew how much she cared for the Travis' and that she would feel any pain they suffered — be it physical or emotional in nature.
Spreading her hands on his chest, she nodded and tried to smile at him. She was reeling from the turbulent set of events that had happened during the past ten days. And now to find out that Evie had borne and lost another child.... Mary mentally shook her head in sorrow and awe. It explained much of the quiet sadness that seemed to permeate the woman's soul even before Stephen's death.
"Come on. Buck'll walk you back to the hotel," Chris tenderly smiled back at her, nodding towards the door and the man he knew was sitting on the other side of it on guard.
Coming back into the jail, Larabee strolled over to the cells and leaned against them as he watched the older man sitting slumped shouldered on the cot inside. After a few minutes, Robert sat up and locked eyes with the gunslinger.
"You don't think it's a coincidence do you," he stated, scrutinizing the face before him for any reaction.
Steeling his features, Chris asked "Any chance this Terrell fellow could be related to Carl Rowe?"
Frowning, Robert nodded his head slowly. "Possible. He did have a brother. Could be his kid I suppose."
Straightening, Chris pursed his lips. "But even if he is, it doesn't mean he knows anything about the attacks on the Travises or who set you up for killing that man. He did save Orrin after all." Shaking his head, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And it doesn't explain why all this is happening now."
"If he is related to Carl Rowe, it might explain more than you think," Robert said evenly. Seeing the narrowing of Chris' eyes, he continued. "Evie didn't tell you everything. All of the Rowes were sneaky, greedy, mean sonofabitches who got their kicks by hurting people. God only knows how he kept all of that away from Evie before they were married. When I said that I was heading over to check on Evie and the boy the day of the accident, it was because I had seen her in town earlier that morning and she had several fresh bruises on her arms and on the side of her face. I had warned Rowe that if I ever found out he had hurt Evie, I would kill him."
"So you think Rowe's kin believe you left him for dead that night and now trying to get you hanged to pay you back?" Chris snapped back, disgusted by what he was hearing about Evie's first husband. Seeing Robert raise an eyebrow in agreement, Chris paced across the jail.
"There's something else Evie probably didn't tell you," Robert said, coming up to the bars and watching the black dressed lawman as he came to a halt at his statement. "The homestead. Although she refuses to acknowledge it, Evie is part owner of it. When she got married, Pa signed over the land she and Rowe built their place on and then later rewrote his will to say that she would get the rest of it when he died. Pa never changed the will and by the time he passed, she was married to Orrin and raising Stephen. She didn't want to move back, plus she didn't think it was right for Pa to give it to her when I had been the one to stay there and work everyday. So, she tried to give it to me, but I wouldn't take it. Finally, we agreed to split it.... Half to me, half for her. Trouble is, we never changed the name on the deed. Until recently."
"So if it is Rowe's kin behind this, they may of thought they could lie low and just wait for Evie to die. But with you having your name put on the deed, that all changed," Chris murmured. "Now they have to get her and you out of the way."
"No. Now Evie, you heard Nathan. You need to rest today," Mary said trying to stop the older woman from getting out of bed. The emotional roller coaster of the last several days had finally taken its toll on her immune system. She had awaken with a fever and a hacking cough during the night. After rousing Nathan from his bed, he had prescribed a herbal tea and bed rest for a couple days.
"Robert needs for me to be there for him," Evie insisted again, trying to push the covers back.
"Robert needs for you to take care of yourself," Mary chided, straightening the quilts. Sitting down on the side of the bed, she tried to talk some sense into the woman. "Neither Robert nor Orrin need to be tormented while they wonder whether or not your going to pass out in the courtroom. They have enough to worry about." Seeing tears of frustration in her eyes, Mary squeezed her hand. "If it will make you feel better, I'll sit in for you today and take notes." Seeing a glimmer of happiness flicker in Evie's eyes, Mary relaxed a little. "But if I do, you have to promise me that you'll stay in this bed," she stressed.
"I promise," Evie said, finally relaxing back into the pillow. "Besides, if I get up, Billy will tell you I'm sure."
Grinning, Mary leaned forward and kissed Evie's cheek before rising. "Aren't children wonderful," she threw over her shoulder as she moved towards the door.
Coming down the stairs, Mary smiled a good morning at JD who was on his way up to relieve Josiah on guard outside the Travis' door. Stopping to tell him where she was going, Mary was halted on her way out by the desk clerk holding out an envelope for her.
"A note for you Mrs. Travis."
Thanking him, Mary slid a finger under the flap and pulled the folded sheet from the envelope.
Darling,
I could not sleep for thinking of you and as usual, I found something waiting in a poem to let you know exactly how I feel. But first I must warn you that you must stop spending time with other men. I simply cannot and will not tolerate any more infidelity on your part like what occurred in the jail last night.
Remember, soon all the obstacles will be gone and we will have the rest of our lives together. Never doubt that it will happen.
"The want of you is like no other thing;
It smites my soul with sudden sickening;
It binds my being with a wreath of rue —
This want of you.
It flashes on me with the waking sun;
It creeps upon me when the day is done;
It hammers at my heart the long night through —
This want of you."
Soon my darling, they will all be gone and it will only be me and you. Soon.
- The Forgotten One
Mary's stomach curled at the contents. Suddenly all of the mystic and wonder of having a secret admirer disappeared, leaving only the fear. Grabbing the hotel desk for support with one hand, she crumpled the paper with the other and tried to settle her nerves. "Excuse me," she said to the back of the man behind the counter. As he turned, Mary held out the crumpled sheet of paper before her. "Do you know who left this for me?"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Travis, I don't. I went into the back for a minute and when I came back it was laying on the counter. I saw your name on it so just put it in your box," he apologized.
Nodding, Mary moved slowly towards the outside door. This situation was becoming impossible. 'Infidelity? Who is this man? And, what does it mean they will soon be gone? Who will be gone?'
"So how's it going?"
Turning to wait for the owner of the voice that had just spoken, Mary adjusted the papers in her hand. "Well, let's just say that I think Orrin is finding it easier to be on the other side of the bench," she said, beginning to walk again as Chris fell in step with her. The trial session, although ending early, had gone very badly for Robert with the prosecution twisting the evidence to make it look like the dead man wouldn't of hurt a flea and that Robert had given him the cattle only to change his mind later.
Having heard about the day's events already, Chris nodded while scanning the street for anyone who might be watching them or who seemed out of place. Glancing back at her, he casually asked, "Has he or Evie said anything about receiving any more threats since they have been in town?"
"No, they haven't. But...," Mary trailed off, as she began toying with the edge of the papers she held in her hands.
"What?" Chris' full attention focused on Mary as he immediately sensed the change in her.
"It's probably has nothing to do with anything that is going on but.... Someone has been leaving me notes, at first on my doorstep and now at the hotel," she finally blurted out.
"Threatening messages?" he asked, his brow furrowing at the thought that she had not told him earlier if she was in danger.
"Love poems," she said, obviously uneasy with discussing the notes.
"I see," Chris said straightening.
"I am really at a loss as to who is sending them. I don't recognize the writing and they have all been signed The Forgotten One," she said, turning troubled eyes up to him. "I wouldn't have even mentioned them, but they keep getting more and more...." Mary paused, as if looking for the right word. "Ardent," she finally finished. "And this last one...." She shuddered, pulling it from her pocket and handing it to him.
Scanning it, Chris frowned again. "The Forgotten One? Does it mean anything to you?"
"No, that's just it. I've racked my brain trying to think of who could be leaving these. And the fact that he is in town watching me makes it even more disturbing," she said, her voice tinged with bewilderment.
"Do you have the other notes?"
Nodding her head, Mary stepped off the boardwalk, heading towards the Clarion to get them.
Shoving his half brother against the tree, John Terrell jammed his forearm across his throat and began to push, cutting off virtually all of his air. Leaning forward until his face was inches from Charlie's, his tone had an eerie quietness to it when he spoke. "I told you to kill Weatherly. Now, either you get the job done or I kill you. Do I make myself clear?"
Gasping for air and fighting the urge to claw at the arm suffocating him, McKeely stared at Terrell with watering eyes and tried to nod. Feeling the pressure on his throat ease a little, the thin man tried to speak. "It wasn't my fault... he was there and then he wasn't and...." The savage hand that suddenly replaced the arm cut off the little air that had been getting through while causing agonizing pain as fingertips jammed under his jaw line.
"I don't want to hear any more of your pathetic excuses," Terrell hissed menacingly. "If Weatherly lives, we loose everything. Do you understand that?" Waiting until he again got a nod, the middle age man causally threw his older step-brother to the side before turning to look at his other sibling.
"Now, you two just stay out here until I tell you otherwise," he said, all traces of his earlier fury gone.
"But what about the old lady? I was thinkin' that if we took that boy then...." A finger pointing in his direction stopped him.
"I just told you to stay here until I tell you otherwise didn't I? Terrell said evenly as his eyes bored into the man before him.
Gulping at the murderous glare being thrown his way, George took a step backwards. "Yeah, I heard you."
"Then do it. If I find either of you in town, I'll kill you." Pausing a few minutes to make sure neither of his siblings were going to contradict him further, Terrell resettled his hat and adjusted his coat before moving to his horse. Mounting, he turned and headed back to Four Corners.
Moving over to give Charlie a hand up, George glared at the back of the retreating form. Waiting until he was positive that there was no way the rider could hear him, the older McKeely turned back around. "He thinks he's the only one who can figure things out. Well, I ain't gonna just sit out here waitin'." Stepping over to his gear, George hefted his saddle. Seeing his sibling had not moved, he glanced over towards him. "You coming?"
Rubbing his throat, Charlie silently shook his head. "If he finds ya'... if you're lucky, he'll shoot ya on the spot. You better hope he does, cause if he gets his hands on you and has a knife...," the thin man shuddered. He didn't consider himself soft in any sense of the word, but he still became queasy every time he remembered how Terrell had taken great pleasure in slowly and methodically torturing a ranch foreman before he finally killed him. He and George had been forced to take the body into the corral where it could be made to look like he had been killed when a bull escaped its pen. Charlie guessed there had to be over 50 cuts and stabs in the man's body. It wasn't the body that disgusted him. He'd seen dead man before. No, it wasn't that. Rather it was the orgasmic look of pleasure that had been plastered on Terrell's face during the entire ordeal that had haunted him. He really was one sick bastard.
"He ain't ever gonna know I was there," George snarled, stomping towards the horses ground-staked nearby.
"Well, whoever Mary's mysterious paramour may be, he certainly is not above 'modifying' his literary selections," Ezra dryly remarked, as he scanned each paper before tossing them onto the desk.
"Anybody got any idea who it might be?" Chris asked the men with him in the jail. Waiting until all of them had indicated they did not know, the gunslinger straightened. "Okay, from now on, be extra careful. Between the attempt last night and this guy becoming more obvious with his threats to Mary, I got a feeling it won't be long before things get interesting. I told Mary to stay in the hotel unless one of us is right beside her. Same goes for Billy and the Travises."
"Judge ain't gonna take too kindly to bein' babysat like that," Vin remarked calmly from chair.
"I've already talked to him and you're right he don't. But he also knows it's necessary." Seeing concern and acceptance on their faces, Chris nodded. "Vin, you go relieve Josiah at the hotel and have him find Buck and send him over to help you. I already told Josiah, Nathan and JD what's going on. Sent Nate over to Mrs. Ketchum's place to get Billy. JD was going to take a walk around town before getting some shut eye."
"So I heard you got yourself a girlfriend," Nathan teased Billy as the two of them walked from Billy's tutor's house.
"I don't neither," the youngster denied vehemently, turning big eyes to the healer. "I'm never gonna like a girl," he added resolutely.
Laughing, Nathan remembered saying something similar to his father when he was Billy's age. "Oh you wait," his amusement clearly reflected in his words. "One day some little red-haaa...."
The weight of a body smashing into him cut off the healer's words and drove Nathan and his attacker into the side of the building they were walking past. The sound of Billy's frightened cry echoed in Nathan's ears as darkness slipped over him.
Quickly grabbing the youngster, George McKeely slapped his hand over the boy's face to stifle the screams coming out of his mouth. "Shut up or I'll do the same thing to you," he growled, jerking Billy closer to emphasis his point. Seeing wide-eyed terror on the child's face, McKeely began to push Billy towards the back of the building and his waiting horse. This was going even better than he'd expected. He'd taken out one of the troublemakers and gotten the kid.
Reaching the corner, the outlaw pulled to a halt to peer cautiously around the corner to make sure that no one was around Spotting the sheriff checking the street a short ways up, the outlaw yanked back before he was seen. What he didn't realize was that he wasn't the only one who had seen the peace keeper.
Gathering up all of his strength, Billy raised his foot and lashed out, connecting with his abductor's shin. The momentary loosening of the grip on him was enough. Jerking his head away from the hand that had been covering his mouth, the youngster managed to scream "JD! HE'S GOT ME!" before McKeely could stop him.
Jerking Billy back, McKeely slapped him and snarled "Now you've done it." Gathering the boy under his arm and pulling his pistol, the outlaw snapped off a shot at the approaching lawman before heading back in the direction he had come.
"HEY... HOLD IT RIGHT THERE," JD yelled at the retreating form, thankful that the outlaw's shot had gone wide of his position. Pausing to make sure the alley was clear, JD spotted the crumpled form of Nathan. Rushing forward, he ran his eyes quickly over his friend looking for any sign of blood and kneeled to make sure he was alive. Finding a strong heartbeat, JD breathed a sigh of relief and patted Nathan on the arm. "I'll be back soon," he said to the semiconscious man before heading after the outlaw.
Unnerved, McKeely darted into the main street searching for some place to hide. Before he found it, he was faced with two very angry men. The sound of the gunshot had alerted them to the trouble brewing.
"You'd best let that boy down nice and easy," Buck growled, slowly advancing towards the outlaw with a murderous look on his face. There were two kinds of people that the tall man had absolutely no tolerance or mercy for — the first was anyone who hurt one of his friends; the second was anyone who mistreated a woman or child. This guy had crossed both lines.
"Stay back," McKeely snapped, waiving his gun between the two men, a hint of panic in his voice. The sound of JD drawing closer caused him to swing Billy in front of him as a shield. The outlaw's arm was wrapped around the youngster's throat, holding him off the ground.
"Easy now," Josiah parried calmly from the other side. "Just let Billy go and no one has to get hurt here."
Sliding to a halt a short distance from the scene unfolding before her, Mary thought her heart was going to stop beating. She had been sitting by the window mending the hole in Orrin's shirt while waiting for Billy and Nathan to return. At the sound of the gunshot, her head had snapped up in alarm. When she saw a stranger come running out of the alley carrying Billy, she had dashed past Vin before he could stop her.
Now, being up close, it was even worse than she feared. The stranger who had his arm wrapped around her son's throat looked ready to snap. The sound of Billy's choking coughs sent Mary to her knees in agony. A strangled plea tumbled from her constricted throat. "Nnnoooo..... please let him go."
From his vantage point in the jail where he was playing cards with Ezra and Robert, Chris saw Buck and Josiah run out of the saloon and head down the street. Stepping to the door, he threw a "Stay here" to Ezra before he dashed after them. At the same time, he saw Mary flying across the street towards the men gathering by the hardware store. Slowing as he neared the group, Chris cringed at the sound of Billy's strangled cries. Angling so that he could come up in the outlaw's blind spot, Chris steeled himself and tried to block out the sound of Billy's struggle and of Mary's desperate begging for her son's life.
Focusing on the sound of Josiah's calming voice cascading over the group, the gunslinger slowly advanced. All the men knew that if they could take this guy alive then maybe they could find out who was behind all of this. Trouble was, that might not be possible. From the labored breathing and diminishing struggles from the youngster, either he released Billy soon or they were going to have to take him.
"Think about what you're doing. You don't really want to hurt that child now so just let him go," the preacher said again, holding his empty hands out to the outlaw.
Stepping back again, McKeely shook his head. "Can't. He's gonna mess everything up."
"Who is?" Josiah asked, wanting to keep the man's attention on him so that Chris could get close.
Before McKeely could answer, a single shot blasted through the street. While the others instinctively ducked and looked to find the shooter, Chris darted forward to catch Billy as the outlaw's body slid to ground.
Josiah, JD, and Buck watched John Terrell slide his pistol back into its holster and start towards the group. Sliding his own pistol into its holster, Buck shared a disgusted look with Josiah before glancing at the retreating form of JD. Stepping forward, Wilmington knelt to see if the outlaw had a pulse.
"It's okay son, I gotcha," Chris murmured as he hefted the coughing and crying boy into his arms. Embracing him briefly, the gunslinger felt a tremor of relief pass through him as the knot in his gut began to slowly dissipate.
Stepping around Buck towards an advancing Mary, Chris sank to the ground, settling the boy on his leg as Mary dropped to ground beside them. Chris slowly stroked Billy's hair while Mary loosened his shirt collar and murmured gently to him that it was over and for him to take slow even breaths. Fighting back her own sobs, all Mary wanted was to bundle him as close to herself as she could, but that wasn't what he needed right now. Now, he needed air.
Clutching handfuls of both Chris' and Mary's clothing in desperation, Billy fought to draw as much oxygen into his little body as possible between coughs and sobs. Beginning to feel like he could once again breathe, the youngster raised terrified eyes towards the alley. "Nathan... hurt," he finally managed to gasp, his normally spirited voice sounding hoarse and cracked.
"Buck," Chris snapped out, questioning if he knew it and telling him to check it out with that one word.
"JD's got him," Buck said, pointing to the two men walking into view. Other than leaning some on JD, Nathan appeared unharmed.
"Shhh, Nathan's not hurt. See?" Mary soothed her son. Seeing some of the panic leave his young features, Mary looked to Chris for her own comfort. The remnants of the pain and desperation she had just felt still showed in her eyes.
Seeing it, Chris reached out and placed his hand on the side of her face. As she leaned into it, he tenderly brushed his thumb across her tear streaked cheek. He would have given anything to have avoided having either Mary or her son hurt like this. His worse nightmare had just about come true.
Jamming his knife into the table top again, John Terrell wrenched it, gouging another hole in the once smooth cherry finish. 'It should have been me. I should of been the one with Mary.' Savagely, he twisted the knife again at the thought.
Suddenly getting up, he stalked across his hotel room replaying the scene from earlier in the day in his mind. Although he wasn't going to do anything when Mary's cries had reached his ears, he couldn't let his half-brother ruin everything he had worked so hard for by running his mouth. Clenching his fists, Terrell shook his head. 'George, you stupid sonofabitch. If you would have just did as I told you I wouldn't of had to kill you. Now I'm gonna have to come up with something to tell Charlie.'
Unwanted images flashed in his tormented mind. The sight of Larabee's hands on his beloved Mary.... touching her face.... caressing it.... holding her hand. 'You have no right... She loves me, you bastard.'
Then of Larabee in his face, glaring, jamming his finger into his chest. "The next time you risk Billy's life like that I'll kill you" Larabee had snarled before turning and stomping off. 'Me risk his life?' Terrell snorted in derision. 'You were just going to let him die before doing anything.'
Then Larabee was doing it again... placing his filthy hands on her... helping her up, wrapping his arm around her and taking her and the boy back to the hotel. 'It should have been me.' A roar of rage erupted from Terrell as he swept the lantern and washbasin off the stand.
The crash seemed to release some of the pent up emotions swirling in him. A cold determination settled over him as he made up his mind.
Chris Larabee had to die.
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