FEEDBACK: Yes Please! -- HistoryWillKnowTheSeven@hotmail.com (Don't forget to tell me which story you read - Thanks)
RATING: PG-17
UNIVERSE: Old West (The Original and Still the Best)
SERIES: History Will Know The Seven
PREVIOUS STORIES: #1 The South Wind; #2 Confidantes and Confidences
SPOILERS - This story picks up where Confidantes left off. Some minor hints at LadyKillers and Serpents. Continued hints at events in The South Wind. After all, that's why they call it a series.
ARCHIVE: Yes, but ask first please.
DISCLAIMER: If only wishes did come true... Reality is harsh.
John Watson and CBS own The Magnificent Seven and all of its characters. I seek, nor shall receive, profit from this narrative.
WRITER'S NOTES - Every story in this series has its own focus, yet there is always the end result to consider. There is a purpose for most everything I write. If you remember that one simple sentence, it will help you decipher my entire series. And you'll probably enjoy it a whole lot more too.
My thanks again to Antoinette for her beta skills and guidance.
The aches and pains he had experienced on their outbound trip seemed to be disappearing, just as Mr. Jackson had indicated they would. Standish watched the healer from the rear of their small party, as they entered Four Corners and made their way down to the livery. He smiled at the man and again, silently thanked the lord for his blessings.
As they approached the stables they could see Josiah riding in from the other end of town.
"Thought Chris was doin' the noon rounds while we were gone?" Wilmington commented suspiciously.
"Thought so too," responded the healer. He instinctively looked around to see if he could spot the two missing peacekeepers. Nothing seemed to bother these men more than a change in their agreed schedule.
"Well, well ... the wandering lambs have returned to their flock," the preacher announced with a big smile, as they all came to a stop at the livery. He dismounted and studied the other four men carefully, as they got off their horses and unfastened their saddlebags.
"Everythin' all right in town Josiah?" the lady's man questioned. "Chris ain't got you doin' all the patrols... has he?"
The preacher's broad, toothy smile swept across his face as he considered the thought. Taking orders from Larabee was one thing. Letting the man run rough shod over him was another.
"Just done a little rearrangin' is all. Suppose we'll have ta do it all over again seeing as you's all back."
"Perhaps we can negotiate a twenty four hour pardon from our appointed rounds," Standish quipped as he handed his horse off to Yosemite. "I suddenly feel my discomfort becoming acute."
"Just a day Ezra," Nathan jokingly asked out loud. "Good lord man, you must be getting' betta quicker than I thought."
The healer tapped the gambler on his good shoulder as Yosemite took his horse. He had learned long ago when each of these men were really hurting and when they were just acting up. This was a good sign from the southerner. He really was starting to heal nicely.
For his part, Ezra just raised an eyebrow at Jackson's remark and turned his attentions to the preacher as the blacksmith retrieved Josiah's horse.
"And just where might our other two associates be Mr. Sanchez?"
"And how's JD doin'?" Nathan added.
Josiah smiled and motioned towards the street. The four men followed him as Yosemite relieved Wilmington and Tanner of their mounts.
"I do believe we might find them at the jail."
"Trouble?" asked the tracker quickly.
"Nope," the preacher noted as he patted the smaller man on the shoulder.
"Found 'em there yesterday when I came back. Afternoon before too."
"Doin' what," Jackson inquired curiously.
The preacher grinned and cocked his head.
"Seems our John Dunne has finally found something he can do to entertain Chris Larabee."
Wilmington stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the trailing preacher. Tanner, Jackson and Standish followed Buck's lead. The three men watched the preacher's smile widen and then Buck's inquisitive expression changed to a familiar 'Yeah, ... Right!' look.
"And just what might that be Josiah?" The lady's man knew Dunne had a tendency to get on Larabee's nerves with all his youthful attributes in play. Even when the kid was being 'grown up', he still had to watch his step sometimes.
Sanchez just smirked, raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side as he motioned towards the door of the sheriff's office.
Buck's expression was now one of challenging determination as he turned to finish the final few steps to the jailhouse. Somehow, the other men knew Wilmington was about to piss the gunslinger off something awful. Or at least he'd give it a good try. They each hesitated momentarily trying to decide if they should follow, or hide.
"Well, hell..." the tracker whispered softly. "This ought'a be good." He smiled, shook his head and followed anyway.
"Welcome home gentlemen," Standish added as he motioned for Sanchez and Jackson to joined the rest of the seven.
Two days earlier JD had asked Chris if he knew how to play checkers. Larabee had shied away from the memories that quickly flooded his mind. He'd always enjoyed the game, and had taught Adam how to play as soon as he was able to understand the concept. The gunslinger hadn't played since his son's death.
Dunne had sensed his leader's faltering concentration when he inquired about a game. Knowing better than to press a topic when the gunslinger reacted this way, JD had immediately dropped the subject. To the kid's surprise, Chris found him about an hour later and accepted the young man's challenge. The game they were currently engaged in was their sixth, and Larabee was actually enjoying himself.
Enjoying himself enough to lighten the mood a little. Having seen the four riders return, JD had suggested a little ruse. The gunslinger had warned the kid about how suspicious Wilmington might be, but Dunne never willingly gave up an opportunity to 'put one over' on Buck.
Neither Larabee nor Dunne flinched as Wilmington entered the room boisterously and stood over the desk. JD wasn't sure how long he could ignore the big man with the suspicious look in his eyes. He did know he was having a hard time trying not to smile though. The kid slowly looked across at Chris and smirked as he reached down to move a game piece. Jumping three of the gunslinger's pieces, he took his opponent's fallen men and looked back at Larabee.
"King me," he requested proudly. His smile was wide and mischievous.
Chris looked indignant as he actioned the kid's request. He glanced at his last remaining game piece, and raised his hands in surrender.
"Looks like you got me again JD. That makes twelve games in a row doesn't it?"
"Sure does Chris."
"All right ... that's enough." The lady's man leaned over the table placing his large hands on either side of the game board.
"Don't know who you figure your foolin' with this little act of yours."
"What act?" Dunne piped up rather incensed by the accusation. He got to his feet and looked at the big man.
"Buck, you been out in the sun too long. Chris and I was just havin' a little friendly game..."
"Of checkers..."
"Yeah, checkers. What wrong with that?" The kid put his hands on his hips and waited for an answer while the lady's man searched for one. Wilmington was obviously caught off guard and the desperation was clear on his face.
A sudden snicker from Standish caused Buck to face the men standing behind him. The four were obviously enjoying the performance, but tried to hide their amusement from the big man's stare.
Trying to let the kid have his fun, Larabee had busied himself putting the game pieces in a small box and was now finished. He got to his feet with the box and board in hand, and secured them on the bookshelf beside the gun rack. He turned to face his oldest friend, but decided to talk to the kid instead.
"Can I try again tomorrow JD?"
"Sure Chris. But I ain't gonna take it easy on ya now, just because you lost a few games."
"And you ... what ... forgot how to play?" the lady's man questioned his oldest friend sarcastically. No matter how much they kept up the ploy, he wasn't falling for it.
"I guess I have," he slapped Wilmington on the shoulder and sat on the edge of the desk.
More snickering from the door momentarily distracted Buck from Chris' attention and that gave the gunslinger time to move back to business.
"So ... everything go smoothly?" he asked as he looked around at the four men. Larabee could see that Tanner, Jackson and Standish were still trying to hide their amusement as they tried to nod their heads. He turned his attention back to Wilmington.
"Any problems?"
"Nope."
"And Tanner managed to keep a low profile," he asked looking back at the tracker. He'd been concerned about Vin's safety since the four had left more than a week ago. Outwardly, of course he had remained cool and put his faith in his men.
Wilmington smiled as he recognized the opportunity he had been searching for.
"Mostly..."
"Mostly?" The gunslinger looked at his oldest friend with due caution. This kind of answer was why the 'faith in his men' usually didn't hold much water.
"Vin ... pretty much ... kept a low profile," he walked to the tracker and put his arm around the smaller man before heading for the door.
"... Pretty ... much?" Larabee questioned cautiously as he got to his feet. He was beginning to not like the way the conversation was going. There were days when he reckoned he was dealing with a group of schoolboys rather than a collection of grown men sworn to protect a community. The fact that he had just agreed to be part of one of those games now completely slipped his mind.
Standish and Tanner immediately realized where Wilmington was headed with his response and slowly edged themselves towards the door as well.
"Yeah," Buck replied as he stood in the doorway. "As long as you ... don't count the royalty thing..."
And with that he was gone. Tanner snickered loudly, and followed quickly behind, while Standish shook his head and tipped his hat to his leader before he too abruptly disappeared. Caught off guard by the nature of Wilmington's answer, Larabee looked questioningly at the preacher and then at Jackson. He raised his eyebrows requesting an explanation, and got a pair of raised hands in reply.
"Oh no..." Nathan responded as he shook his head. "I ain't gonna get myself any deeper inta this than I already am." He moved to the door, then looked at the three men in the room.
"Just cause I was ... accompanying the 'prince' on his travels, don't mean I had anythin' ta do with planning the trip," Jackson muttered quickly as he left the office.
Three very stunned and confused peacekeepers stood looking out an open door.
Larabee was leaning against the doorway of the sheriff's office watching the town as it slowly prepared for the end of the day. Wilmington caught the gunslinger's eye as he met up with Tanner in the middle of the street and began talking.
"Just what do you suppose all that nonsense was about earlier?" the preacher asked as he peered over his book. He had been trying to relax in the chair out front, but had sensed his leader's sudden annoyance.
Chris looked at Sanchez sarcastically.
"Stupid question! ...I know." Josiah cocked his head and held up a hand in surrender. Larabee had no better idea about what had gone on, any more than he did. He considered his fellow peacekeepers as they walked towards the saloon and then disappeared from view.
"Pardon the pun..." he glanced at the gunslinger and smiled.
"But I'm puttin' my money on Ezra ... Those two are just enjoying the show. Standish is the one who wrote the play."
Chris looked at the preacher intently as he thought on his words. Josiah wasn't beyond the occasional practical joke himself, but his senior status amongst the seven usually prevailed. Of all of his men, Larabee could rely on the preacher to be a level head when he needed one.
"Well, ... you're probably right about that Josiah, but..." Chris conceded as he straightened up and turned to go back inside.
"Sure would like to know who in their right mind, would mistake Vin Tanner for a prince though," he mumbled as he went inside.
Sanchez chuckled at the words and shook his head. Then I wasn't hearing things, he thought to himself as he looked about town. He smiled as he spied Jackson and JD as they walked towards the saloon and disappeared inside. Didn't take Nathan long, he considered. Always lookin' out for his patients. The preacher adjusted his new book and tried once again to read it.
"Are you going to open that thing or just play with it?" the preacher asked of Wilmington.
The lady's man folded the envelope he was holding and stuffed it in his pocket. He looked at Sanchez and managed a small smile.
Josiah bowed his head briefly
"You didn't open the other two either... did you?"
Wilmington shook his head as he turned towards the edge of town and searched for the noon stagecoach. Not seeing anything, he slowly walked toward the building and leaned against the hitchin' post.
"She's just asking me ta go and be with her."
"You don't know that fer sure until you read the letter. Besides ... ain't that what folks do when they're suppose ta be engaged?"
Buck lowered his head.
"I can't leave Josiah... I made a promise." He glanced up quickly before bowing his head.
Sanchez pulled his coat collar up against the coldness of the wind and smiled at the images going through his mind. April had seen a pretty young woman come to town and literally sweep Buck off of his feet. The suggestion of marriage had seemed so uncharacteristic, that none of them had believed Wilmington at first. Before Louisa Perkins left she had accepted the proposal, but on the condition that Buck join her on the road. Not especially liking the idea of being transient again, particular on someone else's schedule, the lady's man had been thinking on the idea ever since.
When another young lady had come into town barely five weeks later, she had succeeded in changing all of their lives forever. The preacher didn't know the exact details, but he's surmised that Buck had made some sort of agreement with that young lady too. It seemed to be a completely different kind of promise than that of a marriage proposal, but Buck's reactions seemed to suggest that it might be more important.
"So what this telegram say again?" Buck asked, obviously changing the subject.
"Well," Josiah began. He knew better than to try and press a topic when another wasn't willing to discuss it further. He looked towards the edge of town and then turned back toward the lady's man.
"The judge gave us a brief description of a man who's been... asking too many questions." He nodded his head. "Yeah, that's how he put it."
"Questions about us?"
"Yep!"
"And this fella was from New York City."
"Yep!"
Wilmington stood up straight and took a couple of steps before cocking his head towards the preacher.
"Now how'd you figure a fella from New York heard about us?"
Sanchez was about to answer...
"And why the hell would them fancy folks in a big city like that care anyways?"
The preacher smiled at the questions. They were exactly the same questions John Dunne had asked three days ago when the wire came in.
"Don't know for sure brother," Josiah commented before gazing north once again.
"Judge Travis just figured it would be in our best interest if we kept an eye out for this gentleman and ... perhaps ... sent him packing before he can get off the stage."
Buck was thinking over his questions in his own mind. Scratching the back of his neck as he customarily did when he was 'thinkin', he turned to the preacher.
"Ya know when we was in Ridge City sheriff Baxter mentioned that he'd read about us in a paper from Eagle Bend."
The preacher considered the information and rubbed his chin.
"Well that doesn't surprise me. Mrs. Travis is always writing articles." He smiled at the thought. "There are times when we're the only news-worthy thing around these parts."
Wilmington too smiled at the thought. If the seven weren't getting other folks out of trouble they were usually finding some of their own, in one form or another. Chris was right about their antics sometimes. Buck shook his head and laughed a little.
"And I suppose when the stage stops here for a few hours layover, people are inclined to pick up the local paper ... and maybe even take it with 'em to read on the ride. Don't seem unreasonable that word gets around about us." The preacher concluded his statement and turned at the sound of the stage in the distance.
"Let's just watch the folks that decide to stay awhile," he moved back towards the stage office as the coach approached.
"Yeah," Buck agreed as he too backed up.
Jackson looked up as Buck and Josiah came in to the sheriff's office and quickly closed the door behind them. The wind was a lot colder today than it had been all fall and everyone seemed to be noticing it.
"Still readin'?" the preacher asked as he moved towards the stove. The lady's man was close behind.
"There's some stuff in 'ere I ain't never heard about. It's a new edition. Says they learned a whole lotta stuff durin' the war and these are some of the new ways of doin' things."
"Uncanny, ain't it?" the preacher commented.
Nathan looked at Sanchez for an answer and then up at Buck. Wilmington shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his hands together over the stove. He knew Josiah was about to say something philosophical and he wanted no part of it. Sometimes he had a hard enough time understanding regular people. Josiah in one of those moods ... no, he didn't care to comment at all.
"How's that?" the healer inquired. He figured he might as well ask. Josiah was going to tell them anyway.
"How the most extraordinary of circumstances, produces the most extraordinary results."
"You think the war was... extraordinary?" Wilmington questioned, obviously a little overwhelmed by the statement.
Sanchez could see the puzzled look on Nathan's face as he turned back to answer Buck's question.
"Extraordinary," he stated bluntly as he turned away from the stove. "It's a word that has many meanings brothers. It can mean inconceivable as well a strange... Never accept that an uncommon word has only one purpose. A word like that ... well it just suits this particular circumstance perfectly. Simply put... some good usually comes from the bad."
Nathan looked at the preacher then down at his new book. He smiled.
"So many different ways ta die, they had ta come up with a few new ways 'a healing folks so they didn't lose so many men."
"Adversity and necessity often make strange bed fellows."
"I'll agree with that," Nathan concluded as he closed the book and stood to get himself a cup of coffee.
"Where'd you get the book anyway?" Wilmington asked. He could see the object of their discussion on the desk, but he didn't recognize it.
The healer warmed his hands on his cup and took a sip before answering.
"Came the day after you left."
"Special delivery addressed to one Doctor Nathan Jackson. Straight from New York City," added the preacher as he too poured himself a cup of coffee.
"There's that name again. New York City," Buck looked at the preacher questioningly. The curiosity was clear in his voice. "What's that all about anyway?"
"This is a mystery too!" the healer added as he flipped open the cover of the book.
Buck wandered over and glanced at the publication. Written on the cover page, in an elegant handwriting script were eight words.
~~ Thank You
for the life of my niece ~~
The lady's man frowned as he glanced at Jackson and then at Josiah.
"Don't look at us brother. We've been trying ta figure it out for a week now."
"Yeah," agreed the healer. "I'd say it came to the wrong place except it was clearly addressed ta me. I don't know no one in New York City, and I think I'd remember if I treated someone who came from there."
"Came from where?" Dunne questioned as he came in.
"New York City," Buck responded.
"Oh they was tellin' ya about this fancy book, ha," he quipped as he closed the front cover and picked it up. "Makes a good paperweight though."
Jackson set down his coffee and retrieved his new possession.
"Show some respect JD. This book may help heal someone you know."
Dunne's expression changed as he realized that his jokes didn't belong in this situation.
"Sorry Nathan. I didn't mean no harm."
"Saving lives ain't nothing ta joke about JD," the healer responded. "You, of all people, should know that by now."
Comprehending the irony in what Jackson was saying, the kid nodded his head.
"Where's Chris?" Wilmington asked trying to change the subject yet again. He was still more than a little uncomfortable with the doubts and fears that reared their ugly head both times the kid had faced death.
"Ain't seen him since this morning," Dunne replied.
"Think he said somethin' about checkin' out his place. He ain't been out there since before you left."
Wilmington acknowledged the report with a nod of his head.
"Well I think I'll just head on over ta the saloon and see what Inez is fixin' up for eats today."
"Hey, that sounds like a good idea Buck," JD responded.
"Oh no you don't," Jackson put in. "You're here to relieve me, remember."
Dunne looked disgruntled as he watched Wilmington and the healer move to the door and leave. He'd missed Buck's company while they had been gone and was hoping to spend some more time catching up.
"Do you want me ta bring ya somethin' back," the preacher offered as he followed the other two peacekeepers to the door.
JD shook his head, no!
"All right then," Josiah said as he smiled and bid the young man goodbye.
Looking around at the now empty room, the kid grumpily sat in the chair, pulled a dime novel from his pocket and began to read.
Martin Haynes sat straight up in his bed and looked around the small room frantically trying to find out what had woken him up. The agitated horse sounds coming from the corral spurred him in to action. Lydia sat up and looked at her husband worriedly as he donned his pants and grabbed the rifle off of the wall above the dresser.
"Stay here," he ordered as she started to get out of bed.
"Martin..."
She was interrupted as their eldest child came into the room. He had heard the noise, and was clearly worried.
"What is it Pa?"
"I don't know Cody. Stay in the house with ya Ma until I find out."
"Martin," she called again as she put on her robe and shoes. He turned to look at his wife as she stood by the cradle. He gave her a reassuring smile.
"Be careful."
He nodded his head as he walked out of the bedroom and through the kitchen to the side entrance. Double-checking the chamber of his weapon, he grabbed some more shells from the cabinet high on the wall. He shook his head once more time to clear any leftover cobwebs, then slowly opened the door. After checking for any signs of intruders, he moved outside, and secured the door behind him.
Haynes could hear his animals signaling their fear, but he couldn't tell what it was they were afraid of. After allowing his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness, he moved cautiously around to the front of the house and looked towards the corral.
He could make out his three horses in one enclosure, and the milk cows in the other. They were all quite restless, yet there was no obvious sign of intruders. Martin was about to move towards the barn when he heard the chickens in the hen house explode into a frenzy.
He quickly turned his attention to the smaller building beside the barn. He had built the structure last year to house his workshop. They had looked for a property that had more than one barn, but were unable to find something suitable. Lydia had liked the layout of the house here, so they decided this would be their new home. Building the workshop was easy work for the carpenter, and adding the chicken coop on the side was just a little extra work.
Haynes could hear what sounded like growling and animals fighting. Wolves maybe! he thought. He cussed himself for locating the workshop so close to the barn. There were too many shadows and very little space to maneuver should he be faced with a pack.
He took a couple of steps closer as the chickens started to quiet down. He surmised that they were all either dead or dying. Damn! Another step and he fired his rifle in the air twice. He listened to the animals fighting then the scurry of feet. There had definitely been more than one or two. He listened intently for anymore sounds.
"Martin," Lydia called out from the front doorway. The worry in her voice was clear.
"Pa."
The man glanced back at his wife and son for just a second before cocking his head.
"I told you two to stay in the house," he called out gruffly. "Get back inside ... someone's coming."
He listened as the horse got closer, then moved around to the other side of the house when he pinpointed the direction the rider was approaching from. He aimed his rifle at the shadow that appeared out of the darkness.
"Who's there?"
"Take it easy Mr. Haynes. It's Chris Larabee ... I heard shots."
Martin lowered his rifle and offered up a small smile. If people around these parts hadn't actually met the man, they'd at least heard of Chris Larabee. Opinions were definitely divided on whether he and his men were good or bad for the locals, but the seven men always seemed to be around when folks were in trouble. Now Martin Haynes understood that simple fact all too clearly.
"Mr. Larabee ... yes ... that was me. Scared off some wolves I think." He indicated to the direction of the barn.
"Not sure how many of my chickens they ran off with though. I was just gonna check it out."
"Mind if I tag along?"
"No, ... please." The relief in the man's answer was clear.
The gunslinger got down from his horse and approached the carpenter.
"What are you doing out here so late at night Mr. Larabee?"
Chris thought it an odd question. He knew that most of the homesteaders around Four Corners had requested the patrols he and his men undertook. The Haynes family had only been here about eighteen months, but Martin usually attended the town meetings they had every couple of months.
"Main road's just over yonder. You know we patrol every night."
"Yes, ..." the man hesitated. "I just ... didn't realized you did any of the rounds yourself."
Larabee was a little taken aback by the statement, but lowered his head to hide his reaction.
"Well ... now ya know," he said as they approached the workshop.
The gunslinger held his hand out to block the carpenter's path. The two men stopped and looked at the damage in front of them. The wire around the pen had been mangled and stretched all out of shape while the hen house itself had been knocked off of its wooden foundation. Chicken remains were everywhere.
"How's they get in?" Haynes asked as he surveyed the destruction.
Chris walked to the other end of the pen and pointed to the fence and the hole in the ground.
"Looks like they dug their way in ... then probably ripped through the fence trying ta get out. They probably weren't expecting gun shots."
"Pa," a small voice called out cautiously from the darkness.
"Cody," Haynes called back to his son. "It's alright son. It's just Mr. Larabee from town. You get yourself back inside now ... ya hear."
"Yes Pa," the boy replied. The disappointment was clear in his voice.
"Mr. Haynes," Chris moved to stand beside the carpenter. "I think it's best you go back inside with your family. You scared 'em off ... I don't think they'll be back."
Martin looked back at the carnage and nodded his head.
"I suppose you're right ... not much we can do 'til morning anyhow."
The gunslinger surveyed the chicken coop one more time as Martin turned towards the house. He stopped when Chris didn't follow.
"Something wrong Mr. Larabee?"
Chris nodded his head and motioned for the man to continue back to the house as he joined him.
"I'm gonna have Vin Tanner come out first thing in the morning," he said as they walked.
"Can I get ya ta stay clear of the coop until he gets here?"
"What is it?" the man asked. It was obvious he didn't understand what the gunslinger was getting at.
"Just a feelin'," he said quietly.
Now Martin Haynes had never had the opportunity to talk with Chris Larabee before, but he'd heard a lot of talk. He'd never really put a lot of stock in it though. His son was best friends with the young Travis boy, and Billy had conveyed his trust of Chris to Cody on more than one occasion. Martin had listened to the two children talk one day, and found clear contrasts between the 'Chris' Billy talked of and the 'Larabee' some of the other men complained about. He looked at the gunslinger questioningly, yet somehow he trusted the man's judgement.
"Alright," he replied as he stood by the door.
Larabee smiled and tipped his hat.
"Thank you Mr. Larabee," Martin called out as the dark clad man mounted up disappeared into the darkness.
A dark horse and his equally dark rider slowly made their way down the street and pulled up outside the sheriff's office. Briefly looking about town, Larabee dismounted and wrapped the reigns around the hitchin' post. He stopped, looked thoughtfully towards the ground then smiled.
"How is it that you were only gone a week, and I missed yer sorry hide that much," he questioned into the darkness? The gunslinger shook his head and looked up at the roof of the jail. He stood motionless for several seconds as he awaited an answer.
"Thought it was nine days!"
Larabee shook his head and smiled again.
"Seen Buck?"
"Reckon he should be alone 'bout now."
"Alright then," Chris moved back to his horse and took the reigns from the post. "I'm gonna turn in. You should do the same, I want ya ta ride out ta the Haynes place first thing in the mornin'."
"Trouble?"
"Could be..." Larabee thought on the chicken coop again. "Some animals hit their hen house a while ago."
"Wolves?"
"That's what Martin Haynes said ..." There was a pensive silence.
"You don't think so?"
The gunslinger started to walk his horse towards the livery, but took one last look skyward.
"Just got a bad feelin'," he muttered as he wandered off towards the stable.
Tanner was laid out on the roof with his winter coat and bedroll to keep him warm. He cocked his head to the sound of the horse and rider walking down the street. He lowered his eyes for only a second before returning them to the heavens above his head. The absence of the moon only seemed to make the stars shine brighter, and Vin smiled as he considered the gunslinger's words. Things ain't never easy when Larabee gets a bad feelin' he mused to himself. He would worry about that in the morning though, right now he had other things on his mind.
Down the street a man stood in the shadows of his second floor window and watched the tracker intently.
"That's the third new moon in a row Mr. Tanner..." he whispered to himself curiously.
JD strolled down the boardwalk in his usual youthful way. It helped that the cooling weather had seemed to make breathing easier over the past few weeks, and as of yesterday Nathan had given him a clean bill of health. As he walked he tipped his hat to some of the townsfolk then spied Sanchez and three horses. The kid figured someone was getting ready to ride, so he quickly bounded across the street.
"Hey Josiah," he smiled. "What's up?"
The preacher checked his saddle and turned to look at Dunne. He returned the smile.
"And a pleasant good morning to you brother."
"Where ya'll headed this early in the morning?" the kid questioned again.
Sanchez watched Vin and Chris as they exited the jail then looked back at JD and frowned slightly.
"Chris has got a bad feelin' about something that went on out at the Haynes place last night."
The kid looked horrified by the announcement. Even he understood about Chris' bad feelings.
"Think I can tag along," he asked of Josiah. "Ezra's taking over the watch from Buck."
"If ya hurry." The reply came from Tanner as he slapped the kid on the back. JD nodded his head and headed off towards the livery.
Sanchez watched Dunne depart and then looked back at Chris and smiled.
"Ah, the bountiful energy of youth."
Larabee shook his head and gave the preacher a sideways glance.
"Makes ya sick don't it."
"Especially this early in the mornin'," Sanchez agreed with a smirk.
The tracker looked back and forth between his two friends and smiled that familiar Tanner smile.
"Well if you two old men figure you can keep up with us youngen's," he quipped as he got on his horse.
The preacher and gunslinger exchanged a dirty look as they too mounted up.
"Your time will come brother. Your time will come," Josiah promised as he pointed his horse towards the livery and headed off.
Chris raised his eyebrows in Tanner's direction as he settled himself on his horse and set off after the preacher.
"And I hope I meet it with just as much dignity and defiance as the two of you," Vin whispered to himself as he followed his friends.
"Would you gentlemen care for some coffee?" Lydia asked of the men gathered outside her home.
"No thank ya ma'am," Dunne replied as he tipped his hat. Sanchez smiled at the woman, while Larabee acknowledged both the request and the reply with a similar smile. Martin looked lovingly at his wife and grinned. No one expected her to wait on them but he knew she liked to be helpful.
Martin watched as Lydia went back into the house just as their son came running out.
"Slow down Cody," she suggested in a motherly tone.
"Sorry ma." The boy looked at his mother as she smiled and ruffled his hair.
"You stay out of the way now ... ya hear? And don't go wandering off either. It'll be time for school soon."
"Yes ma," he replied slightly disappointed about what he might miss. Mrs. Haynes smiled again at her son and went back into the house. Cody turned and looked at the three men as they talked to his father. He recognized all of them, although he'd had no real opportunity to interact with any of them. Billy Travis knew these men though. Oh, he's so lucky, the boy had thought to himself when his best friend told him tales. Like all boys their age, some of them were probably tall tales, but Cody still loved to listen.
The big man was their preacher. He knew Mr. Sanchez on sight and wasn't afraid to talk to him. Pa said he really wasn't a minister anymore, but Ma argued the point and said a spiritual man of any sort was better than none at all. Ma usually won these kinds of debates. Her logic really couldn't be disagreed with though. Even Pa gave the preacher praise for some of his services now and then.
The man in black was Mr. Larabee. Billy had told Cody that he was a famous gunfighter who didn't do bad things anymore. Since his grandpa had hired Chris and the others, he only did good things now. Even though he knew Billy really liked the man, Cody wasn't sure of him himself. He figured he'd just watch and decide on his own.
Then there was Mr. Dunne. Most of the boys in town wanted to be just like JD. He was so lucky that all of those men let him ride with them and let him be one of them. Cody wanted to be that lucky when he grew up. To be a member of a group like the seven would just be the best thing in the whole world. Oh, JD was just so lucky.
The boy wandered slowly passed the men and towards the workshop. He could see the fourth peacekeeper mulling around the chicken coop and he wondered what exactly he was looking for. First he examined the torn fencing and then he got real close to the ground and ran his fingers over it very lightly. As the child watched he saw Mr. Tanner get even closer to the earth with his face.
"What he doin' pa?"
Martin looked at his son and then followed his gaze towards the hen house. After looking at Vin Tanner curiously he looked back to Larabee for an explanation. Chris glanced at the tracker and then back at the boy.
"He's tryin' ta pick up a scent son."
"Did the Indians teach him that Mr. Sanchez?" Cody moved back slightly and looked at the older man as he asked the question. He wasn't sure if he liked talking to the gunslinger, but he knew he could trust the preacher.
Josiah smiled as he thought on the question. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Well Cody... I reckon' Mr. Tanner there knows a lotta things. Suppose the Indians he lived with might 'a taught him quite a few interestin' tricks. All men can learn from one another no matter where they come from. Just cause ya don't rightly know about what someone's doin', don't mean you gotta be afraid of it."
"Is he helpin' us?"
"The best way he knows how," Josiah smiled and tilted his head.
The boy considered the words then motioned towards Tanner again.
"Here he comes."
The four men moved to meet up with the tracker as he headed over towards them. Cody stayed back a little, but wanted to be close enough to hear what was going on. Larabee looked at Vin questioningly as Tanner just shook his head.
"They're a pack alright, but they ain't no wolves Chris."
"What else 'round these parts runs in packs Mr. Tanner?" Haynes asked. The apprehension was clear in his voice.
Vin looked at his leader and then back at Martin. He lowered his head momentarily in thought.
"They ain't from around here Mr. Haynes. Reckon they's a pack of wild dogs. Right mean bunch too." Tanner looked up at the man then back at his friends.
"Don't usually see that much blood unless they's fightin' among themselves. Likely means they ain't figured out who's the boss, which means they're more dangerous than most."
"What's a wild dog Vin?" Dunne asked. He'd never heard the expression before.
"Society's throw aways," the preacher piped in. He turned away from the men and looked towards the chicken coop.
"People are just too domesticated to realize their own faults sometimes brothers. We love 'em when they're young but neglect 'em more as they get older. Soon we've forgotten all about their wants and needs. So much so that they gotta take care of their own."
Sanchez turned back to look at the four men and frowned. His gaze rested on the kid as he concluded his statement.
"And so much so, that sometimes they forget they were ever civilized at all."
John Dunne looked at the preacher as he considered the words. He could hear the irony in what Josiah had said. JD understood that he was talking about dogs, but somehow he recognized the similarities between the animals and their supposedly much more civilized owners. He had seen people neglect or abused. He'd seen older folks forgotten by their family and friends. He didn't like to think on things like this...
"Like the ones we talked about at school?" Cody chimed in.
The men look around at each other questioningly. None of them seemed to know what the boy was talking about.
"Are they gone Mr. Tanner," Haynes asked anxiously. He was sure he hadn't mistaken the seriousness in the tracker's tone.
Larabee too looked at Vin for an answer. The last thing they needed in Four Corners was a pack of wild dogs roaming around endangering people and livestock.
"Reckon I'll take a ride around and see what I can find. Chances are ...," he looked at the men cautiously. "They ain't goin' no place when they know there's a free meal ta be had around here."
"All right," Chris acknowledged none too happy with the news. The four men followed the gunslinger's lead as he headed towards their horses.
"Mr. Haynes ...," he began as they arrived at the fence where the horses were tied.
"I'd suggest you stay close to your family, and secure all the animals in the barn tonight."
Martin understood the warning and confirmed his understanding with a silent nod of his head.
"Which way you headed?" Larabee questioned Tanner. The tracker looked back at the chicken coop then lifted his head indicating west. The gunslinger immediately took on his required leadership stance.
"JD, you go with Vin. If you happen close to any homesteads while you're tracking 'em, make sure you let folks know what's goin' on."
"Right Chris," the kid affirmed as he and Vin got on their horses and rode out.
"Josiah you head east." Larabee mounted up in unison with the preacher then continued his train of thought. "I'm gonna head back ta town and round up the others. Let anyone you see know what's happened, and warn them about mindin' their livestock."
"Is there's anything I can do Mr. Larabee?" Martin asked.
Chris smiled at the request, but shook his head.
"Take care of your family and animals Mr. Haynes. Stay safe until we can deal with this."
The gunslinger indicated for the preacher to head on out then tipped his hat towards the carpenter and rode out himself.
"Be careful Mr. Larabee," Martin whispered to himself before turning back to find Cody. He looked around nervously then called for the boy to follow him as he went back to the house to retrieve his rifle.
The three remaining peacekeepers were gathered in the sheriff's office getting their instructions from Chris Larabee. He was buried waist deep in his customary leadership role and as usual, performing flawlessly.
"... and Ezra."
Standish looked up from the saddlebag he was putting extra rounds into.
"Make sure you ride as far north as the plateau. "
The southerner considered the statement for a moment. Chris should have known that Ezra wouldn't forget Joseph Langdon. The two had become 'friends' over the last year. Well ... as close to a friend as the gambler had let anyone get.
Joseph was somewhere in his late fifties and definitely a stubborn cuss. Standish was fond of the old man and figured he'd be just as independent and just as stubborn should he live long enough to reach this respectable age.
Langdon lived alone on his extensive acreage, and because the property was bordered on three sides by either steep rock or water, there weren't a lot of places for his cattle to run. Joseph employed several of the locals to check on his herd, four days a week, but they didn't live with him at the ranch.
His wife had passed on several years before the seven came to Four Corners and his children weren't around either. The gambler knew Langdon had two daughters, although Joseph only ever spoke of his eldest. Apparently Karen and her husband came a few times a year and brought his grandchildren to visit.
Katrina, on the other hand, hadn't been seen in several years and Langdon seemed to prefer the arrangement. He had once described his youngest child as a tempest. An out-of-control wild fire with whom he butted heads every time they were in the same room together. Joseph only spoke of her the one time, and then he had told Ezra to mind his own business.
Standish smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the Larabee's order.
"Buck you ride south out past the Wells place. See if Nettie and Casey want to come in to town until this is dealt with. Inform the rest of the homesteaders then help Nettie back if she's inclined."
"Alright Chris," Wilmington affirmed as he gathered up his rifle and headed for the door. Just as he was about to open it, the door swung open and Mary Travis walked in with Martin Haynes right behind her. It was obvious to all that she was anxious.
"What's wrong Mary?" Larabee asked quickly.
"Mr. Haynes just told me what happened. He brought Cody into school today instead of letting him walk."
The four peacekeepers looked back and forth at each other as they realized what the widow was getting at.
"How many others?" the gunslinger asked. He was clearly alarmed by the prospect of more children heading into school by themselves and on foot.
"The Cooper children haven't arrived yet, and James and Claire Watson aren't here either."
"Nor David O'Malley," added Haynes.
"Mrs. Benson said Julia Mackenzie and Sarah Hillard aren't here either. They normally walk in together."
Obviously realizing that the children would be their first priority, the peacekeepers changed their itinerary quickly.
"I'll ride out towards the Mackenzie home and see if I can find the girls," Ezra announced as he headed for the door.
"I'll get David O'Malley," Nathan volunteered as he followed Standish out.
"Buck ..." the gunslinger directed his oldest friend.
"You get the Watson children." Wilmington nodded and headed out while Larabee turned his attention to Martin Haynes.
"Mr. Haynes do you have your buckboard?"
The carpenter nodded his affirmative answer.
"Can you follow me south Mr. Haynes. There's four Cooper children and I'd appreciated it if you could give me a hand."
"Of course Mr. Larabee. Anything to help."
Haynes and Larabee moved out the door, but Chris stopped when Mary caught his arm.
"Be careful," she whispered.
The gunslinger smiled and lowered his head. As he looked back into her face she could tell he was back to business.
"Let folks know what's goin' on, and tell Mrs. Benson not to let the children go home until someone comes to pick them up."
Mrs. Travis nodded her understanding as she watched her favorite blond attend to his duties. She felt safer just knowing Chris Larabee was in charge.
Claire Watson was not a typical nine-year-old girl. She had three big brothers to follow around and most days you could find her doing just that. Her mother was constantly telling her to act more lady like, while her father just sat back and watched his tomboy daughter get into scraps and scrapes just like her older brothers. Heaven had finally blessed them with a girl, but she was proving to be just as much a boy as her siblings.
"Come on James," she called back to her twelve year old brother. "We're going to be late if we don't hurry."
The youngest of the Watson boys was more conservative than his older brothers, and definitely more so than his sister. He normally sat back and observed a situation before he went on in, and his instincts for people and situations were normally right on the money. Right now, James Watson was getting a strange feeling and he didn't like it one little bit.
"Claire come back here," he demanded of his sister, as he looked at the small stand of old trees they were approaching. The girl was about a hundred yards in front of him and he didn't like the distance between them.
"Oh, all right," she called back. "I'll wait."
Claire walked a couple of feet off the dirt trail and set her lunch bucket down by a big tree that sat off all by itself. She gazed up mischievously at the low branches and then looked back at her brother as he crested the small rise in the distance. Without a second thought, the young girl hiked up her dress, stuffed its length in her waistband and grabbed a hold of the first branch she could reach.
As James drew closer to his sister's location he shook his head.
"Ah, come on Claire. You just said we was gonna be late. This ain't no time to be climbing trees. How 'm I supposed to 'xplain to Mrs. Benson if you get all dirty."
"You don't need to explain stuff for me. I'm big enough now ta do my own 'xplaining. Besides ..."
As the boy arrived at the tree he gazed up at his sister, some fifteen feet in the air.
"What?"
"Oh, I was just watchin those dogs over there." She pointed to the stand of trees.
James turned quickly to look in the direction his sister was pointing. He could see about six or seven dogs coming out of the tree line. It looked to him that there was a few more standing in the shadows.
"What 's you suppose they're doing out here all alone?"
"Shhhhhh Claire," the boy called out as he watched the two lead dogs intently.
"Don't you shhhh me," she called back obviously a little annoyed with her brother's attitude. "I'll talk whenever I ..."
"Shut up!"
The girl looked down at her brother angrily. She was about to yell back, but was distracted by his body stance. He seemed to be eyeing the dogs purposefully while trying to reach for the branches of the tree.
James Watson was becoming extremely nervous as he watched the dogs. They didn't move around like any dogs he had ever seen. They seemed to be trying to circle his position as though attempting to close him in.
Suddenly he found himself remembering that article in the Tribune they had talked about in school last month. The story informed folks about a wild dog pack that had been killing livestock around Eagle Bend. The focus at school had been the animals that had been abandoned by their owners and were therefore forced to fend for themselves. Mrs. Benson probably never even thought to discuss what the children should do if they found themselves approached by those same animals.
As the hounds drew closer, James touched a branch with his outstretched hand. He didn't want to take his eyes off of the lead dogs, but he couldn't get into the tree without turning around. Unfortunately, he figured that he would have to go now, or he wouldn't have enough time to get up safely.
With lightening speed, James threw his lunch bucket towards the two dogs and turned to climb the tree. Leaving the pail for their companions, the pack leaders charged headlong at the young boy as he left the ground and pulled himself up towards the branches.
Claire Watson screamed for all she was worth as the lead dog flew through the air and grabbed her brother's leg. She watched in horror as the second dog waited for his chance. She looked around desperately trying to find something, anything to throw at the animal that held her brother. Spying a dead branch a few feet below her she started to climb down.
Although evenly matched in weight, gravity was aiding the dog in its efforts to pull the boy from his perch. James could feel himself slipping. He tried to get higher but the branch below him gave way as he pushed against it with his free leg. The pain from his injured limb shot threw his whole body as the animal adjusted his bite. James desperately looked up to his sister and felt himself cringe as he realized she was climbing down instead of up.
"Go back," he tried to call out, the agony obvious in his voice.
Claire ignored her brother's plea as she reached out for the dead branch and secured it in her grip. Edging down a few more feet she positioned herself directly over the dog as it snarled and tried again to drag her brother from the tree. Careful of her aim she called out.
"Don't move James."
As the shock and blood loss became greater, the boy was slowly starting to lose his perception on reality. James looked up at his sister and smiled as he realized what she was attempting to do. He mustered some strength and readied himself for another push should she be successful in her efforts. He nodded his head to show he was ready, then watched as the large piece of wood came hurtling towards him.
Catching the wild animal by surprise, the dead branch hit directly on the top of the dog's head and sent him wincing back with a yelp. He landed against the second dog and they were momentarily distracted by their internal conflict. Fighting off his competitor, the second dog lunged for his turn at the victim, but it was too late. The boy was safely out of reach.
James had succeeded in pushing himself up to the next branch when the dog had let go of his leg. His sister's helping hand was now coaxing him further into the tree. Slowly the children made their way up about twelve feet in the air then Claire gently settled her brother against the trunk of the tree and looked at his leg.
Blood was dripping steadily from the wound and already soaked through the material of his torn pants. The girl realized she had to do something to stop the flow. When her other brother Tommy had fallen from the barn roof last year and broken his leg, Mr. Jackson had said it was a good thing her Pa stopped the blood flow when he did. With the bone sticking through the skin the way it was, Tommy wouldn't have lasted very long with that kind of blood loss.
Claire reached down and tore two large strips from her petticoat. She hated the thing anyway, so she didn't mind seeing it shredded like this. Smiling at the cloth she began wrapping it around James' leg as tight as she could. She looked out through the trees when she heard the dogs snarling at each other. They appeared to be fighting over the contents of the two lunch pails. Happy that the animals were momentarily distracted, Claire turned back to look at her brother.
"It's gonna be alright James," she said confidently as she started to wrapped the second strip around her brother's leg.
"They can't get us up here."
The boy's grip on reality was slipping even more, but he managed a small smile.
"You did real good Claire," he whispered as he looked out towards the animals.
"Reckon you betta keep a watch out for anyone passing by." He winced in pain as she tucked in the second strip.
"We can't stay up here forever."
The young girl looked at the paling face before her and understood what her brother was saying. He was losing blood and soon might lose consciousness. She moved along the branch and tried to get her arm around his waist. Cuddling James as close as she could, Claire looked out to the horizon in hopes that she might see someone ... real soon.
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