Disclaimer: The 'Magnificent Seven' and other characters from the series are the property of MGM, Trilogy and the Mirisch Company. I just borrowed them, played with them for a while, and then very regretfully gave them back! The original characters found in this piece are mine and should not be used without permission. Sadly, no money will be made from this work of fan fiction.
Genre: Old West — H/C, angst, drama
Main characters: Vin, Chris, Ezra.
Rating: PG13, mainly for language, plus some violence.
Thank you to my husband, Mike, for his patience and understanding whilst I sat for hours at the PC writing this, my first ever work of fan fiction. Thanks also to Heather and Sue for their constant encouragement.
As with each of my stories, the themes, convoluted ideas, original characters and writing are, in their entirety, all of my own work.
The original version of this story was posted to Lady Angel's Library website in March 2003.
This version has been revised, expanded and completely re-edited — May 2004.
Feedback and comments can be sent to susieburton999@yahoo.co.uk
If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on now, 'Cos there's too many places I gotta see.
Bye, bye baby, is this the sweet love, though this feeling I can't change
But please don't take this so badly, 'Cos Lord knows I'm to blame.
If I stay here with you, things just couldn't be the same
'Cos I'm free as a bird now, and this bird you cannot change,
No this bird you cannot change, Lord knows I can't change...
Thanks to Allen Collins and Lynyrd Skynyrd for the inspiring song.
The morning sun was already beating down fiercely as Mary Travis walked from her newspaper office along the boardwalk of the town's main thoroughfare. Stopping to wipe a stray blonde hair from her face, she thoughtfully surveyed the shops and other buildings, and then crossed to the saloon.
Sitting on the front porch, his legs resting comfortably on the rail, JD Dunne was engrossed in a book and completely unaware of her presence until she gave a small delicate cough to clear her throat. The young peacekeeper jumped, almost tipping backwards from the chair and dropping his book in the process. "Why howdy, Miz Travis," he stammered, getting to his feet and politely touching his hat.
"Good morning, JD. I'm sorry I startled you, but I was wondering if you had time to do an errand for me," Mary enquired.
JD smiled, looking about sixteen years of age, before bending down to retrieve his book. "I'd be glad to, ma'am. What do you need doing?"
Mary tapped the rolled up sheets of paper in her hand. "These are posters detailing the events for the forthcoming celebrations, and I need them displayed all over town to advertise the acts that will be participating."
Unrolling one of the large sheets, JD started reading aloud.
'FOUR CORNERS FOUNDING FATHER'S CELEBRATIONS — JULY 24/25/26/27. CONFIRMED ATTRACTIONS INCLUDE: TOWN BAND AND MARCH, RIDING, SHOOTING AND ROPING CONTESTS, TOWN CARNIVAL QUEEN, CAROUSEL RIDE, BARN DANCE FIREWORK DISPLAYS, A DANCE SPECTACULAR FROM MADAME KRISTINA'S BALLET TROUPE OF RUSSIA, PLUS MUCH MORE!'
"Phewee!" JD whistled enthusiastically. "This sounds really impressive. The town's sure going to be humming for those four days! I hope Chris makes sure we can all get some time off to see some things, as all Casey keeps on about is how she ain't never been on one of those fancy new whirly-go-rounds. I don't aim to let her down neither!"
Mary smiled fondly at the young man. He was like a boy in many ways, and it touched the maternal instinct in her when he got excited about things like this. Not that this happened very often. For JD and the other six peacekeepers, danger, risk and hardship were constant companions as they provided much needed protection to the people of the town. She marvelled at the sevens indomitable spirit and almost envied them their collective mutual respect and comradeship. No, envy wasn't really the right word, but her feelings for one of the men in particular, were decidedly ambivalent at the moment.
Almost as if he'd been reading her thoughts, Chris Larabee suddenly appeared beside her. "Howdy, Mary," he drawled, touching his hat. "Are they the flyer's saying how great these celebrations are gonna be?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, I finished printing them this morning. I hope you don't mind me enlisting JD's help in putting them up, Chris?"
The black dressed gunslinger pursed his lips. "No ma'am, guess you have to do your bit. Can't say I'm really looking forward to those four days though. Every lowlife and scum for miles around will be attracted like bees to a honey pot!"
Mary and Chris had been out of sorts with one another ever since he'd found out about the event. The woman had been elected onto the organising committee but, despite seeing more of each other at the regular meetings, the gunslinger had seemed to withdraw further from her. To make things even worse, he always seemed to end up arguing with her on some point or another. Mary sighed inwardly. She understood his concerns, but you couldn't live life cocooned in cotton, and the extra help that was being brought in for the four days of festivities should make life easier for the town's peacekeepers.
"Well, I know that Ezra is really looking forward to next week. He said that the ballet dancers should be a real cultural treat for everyone. I can't remember when he looked so happy and excited!" Mary laughed.
"Yeah, he would say that, ma'am! But I think what he's thinking more of is the cash he can get folks to part with at the bar or the tables. Ezra's nothing if not practical — especially where money's concerned," Chris drawled dryly.
The three entered the saloon, and saw Ezra Standish sitting at one of the large tables close to the bar, making entries in a ledger. Lists and pieces of paper were strewn across the top as he studiously entered figures into the columns and a half-finished cup of coffee sat to his left.
Chris pulled up a chair for Mary, before strolling over to get a beer from the bartender.
"Good morning, Miz Travis. Your interruption could not come at a more fortuitous moment. These accounts are tedious at best, and it is a pleasure to talk to someone of intellect before I expire from sheer boredom."
Whilst speaking, Ezra had pulled a frilly white silk kerchief from his pocket, and he now started to mop his brow with an exaggerated flourish.
Mary smiled, but she wasn't fooled by the handsome gambler's almost foppish behaviour. She had seen him in action on many occasions, and knew that when the chips were down he was a very dangerous man. He may not have the same reputation as Chris Larabee, but the Southerner was a fast and accurate shooter, and a rarity in the circles of quick draw gunmen, insomuch as he was completely ambidextrous. Many men had misjudged him in the past, but lived, and then died regretting their mistake.
"I wanted to put up posters advertising the town festivities, Ezra. Do you mind displaying a few in here?"
"I have no objections to that, ma'am. Although I doubt that many of my clients will be able to read about the tantalising morsels of entertainment that you and the town committee have organised for our amusement!"
JD scowled darkly at the gambler's disparaging comment.
"I... er... um... well I don't of course include my illustrious peacekeeping friends in the same vernacular," Ezra hastily added. "My colleagues are very learned and honourable gentlemen, with a positive wealth of talent and sophistication."
Chris ambled over from the bar and tapped the account book, sparing a brief glance at JD, who was still trying to work out what the gambler had actually said. "Ezra, I think you should get back to this, afore you dig an even bigger hole for yourself! Just let the lady put up her posters." With a mirthless smile the gunslinger sat down at another table.
Mary quietly rose and, with a brief nod of her head, she then left the saloon. JD started to nail the posters to various walls, before leaving to distribute the remainder around the town.
Vin Tanner looked up as two wagons and a covered carriage came through the main street of Four Corners. With the town celebrations only three days away many of the acts and entertainers had already arrived and the hotels were beginning to fill with guests. In fact both Buck and JD were constantly watching as a gang of German workers erected the gaudily painted carousel ride of galloping horses on a large, flat grassy area at the far end of town.
Vin had no doubts that as soon as his two friends could, they would be riding on the damn thing! He snorted to himself. The thought of climbing atop a carved, wooden prancing horse and whirling around and around, held about as much attraction to him as wearing a stiff-necked fancy suit at a Sunday church picnic! In his opinion, there was nothing to beat the comforting feel of a living, breathing horse under you, and nothing Buck or JD could say would make him change his mind.
Putting aside his thoughts he slowly read the painted board on the side of one of the wagons. 'MADAME KRISTINA'S AMAZING DANCE TROUPE FROM RUSSIA'. Beneath this inscription was a painted picture of a beautiful blonde girl, balanced on one straight leg with her other stretched out and pointed to the side. Her arms were held above her head in an elegant pose, but what startled Vin most was the length of the filmy, almost see through skirt that she wore. It came above her knee, and to western eyes she may just have well been naked.
"Whooee!" breathed Vin to himself. "I jes' know when Chris sees that, he's gonna be hopping mad. I reckon that's a real invite for trouble — or I ain't a Tanner!"
The party of dancers came to a halt outside the Clarion Newspaper office and, having seen their arrival, Mary Travis hurried out of the building.
"Hello, I'm Mary Travis, and you must be Madame Kristina."
A petite woman in her early fifties got down from the carriage and took Mary's outstretched hand in a warm clasp. "We are very happy to visit this lovely town, and we all look forward to performing our little show for everyone's pleasure," Madame Kristina stated in a sweetly accented voice.
Four younger women, one blonde and the other three dark-haired, had alighted from the wagon and stood gazing at the few curious passers by who had wandered across to investigate. All four were slim and graceful, and quite stunning in looks and they surveyed the town with interest, pointing at various shops, whilst talking to each other in a language that Vin had never heard before.
The tracker prided himself on having a good ear for dialects, and could usually pick out words and know what they meant, but this one had him completely baffled.
"We did not expect a welcoming committee, Mrs. Travis. However, if it is not too much trouble, we are very tired from our journey and would be pleased if you could show us where we are staying."
"Of course," Mary replied. "Please — follow me. I have made the arrangements at Virginia's Hotel, exactly as you stipulated in your telegram."
Madame Kristina imperiously clapped her hands, and four men got down from the wagons. Satisfied that her entourage was complete, she started talking rapidly in Russian, obviously used to having her instructions obeyed. Looking at one of the two men dressed in western style clothing, she indicated the wagons. "Mr. Ward, I would be grateful if you could store our equipment, and see that our personal luggage and the costume trunk are delivered to our hotel suites. There may be some willing men around who would help you, da?" This last comment was said with a questioning look at Mary.
"Yes," Mary nodded. "I'm sure you won't have any trouble enlisting help, especially when the young townsfolk see the wagons! But I'm sorry, let me get you settled at the hotel now, and we can talk later about the programme of events."
As Madame Kristina and her party followed her, Mary glanced back at the painting on the wagon. This blatant advertisement was sure to bring a reaction from the more conservative and puritanical folk of the town, but that worried her less than the thought of what Chris Larabee would say. She knew from the queasy feeling in her stomach that she was soon to have yet another argument with the gunslinger.
Vin watched for a few more minutes as several youngsters appeared and, under Ward's watchful eyes, started to unload baggage from the dancers' wagons. Satisfied that there were no problems, he then headed for the jailhouse.
The whole jail shook as Chris Larabee strode through the front door, slamming it closed behind him. His face was grim, hazel eyes glinting angrily and lips set in a tight, thin line.
It was evening following the arrival of the Dance Company. JD and Vin were drinking coffee and, glancing at one another on their leader's turbulent entrance, they knew that the extra meeting Chris had called with the event organisers had not gone well.
"I can't believe Mary could be so stupid in letting this happen!" Chris fumed to no one in particular. "She knows how things like that can get out of hand, but the committee are sure that there'll be no trouble. What the hell do they know about this sort of thing? Before we know it every woman and gal in town will be a target for all the hot-blooded, drunken fools stumbling out from that show. And what's more, they intend to have performances every damned evening!"
Vin nodded sympathetically, as he handed Chris a cup of coffee. "Yeah, well y'know how me'n the fellas' feel, Chris. Reckon at the end of th'day, it's gonna be down to us to pick up th'pieces."
Chris took the offered cup, letting out a deep breath to try and ease the tension that he felt. He was pleased that the remaining six peacekeepers grasped his viewpoint, and was a little surprised that even JD was mature enough to recognise the danger.
To help with the extra policing that was going to be needed the event organisers had bought two part-time deputies over from the town of Eagle Bend. In addition, Four Corners resident blacksmith, Tiny, along with his wife Dora, had also been hired to help with the drunks, both male and female. Chris was heartily relieved to have the use of a lady deputy. He was under no illusion that certain members of the 'fairer' sex could be a real pain in the butt!
Chris looked up him expectantly as the jail door opened, and Nathan Jackson strode into the office.
"I can see from your face that the committee ain't goin' to change the dance act, huh?" The former slave had caught the look of dark fury on the gunslinger's features, and his enquiry was more of a statement than a question. He'd been busy arranging extra clinic space at the Dentist's office, along with more help from several of the town's womenfolk and, at Chris' suggestion, had worked out a rota for the four ladies who had volunteered to help him.
"You're right, Nathan, I didn't really expect to get anywhere. She can be so..." Chris shrugged in annoyance as his comment tailed off.
Nathan was at a complete loss for words. The tension between the pair was palpable, although the intuitive healer was sure that once the festivities had ended, Mary and Chris would sort out their differences.
It was clear to the other six peacekeepers that the gunslinger was growing fond of the beautiful widow. The presence of Mary, and her young son Billy, was having a healing effect on the man who had endured so much pain and grief following the terrible death of his family. Nothing could ever replace what Chris Larabee had lost, but the man now had a place and purpose in life. He'd been given a reason to drag himself away from the downward spiral of drinking that had been his only answer to the inner torture he'd felt after the death of Sarah and Adam.
In addition, the gunslinger had suddenly found himself as the unofficial leader of this group of men; men who now seemed almost like brothers, fiercely loyal and respectful to each other, whilst working together to keep the town safe. The fact that Chris had made himself responsible for the other six peacekeepers was a large part of the ongoing healing process.
Nathan thanked the Lord that Vin had been solidly behind Chris in all the arrangements for the town's security for the period of the carnival. He was aware of the close bond between the two men, and the gunslinger needed to have backup he could totally rely upon.
Sometimes in his private musings, particularly when he was working alone in his clinic late at night, the healer would smile at the special relationship that the gunslinger and tracker shared. Nathan likened them to night and day. Chris Larabee, quiet spoken, with his dark, brooding, and occasionally highly explosive temperament, and the younger Vin Tanner, the introspective, shy and sensitive one. He was a man with a price on his head, but with an inner spirit that was as free and open, as the rolling Texas Plains that he hailed from. The deep-seated trust and respect the pair held for each other was evident for all to see. Nathan hadn't thought he was that sensitive to such things, but when Chris and Vin were together it seemed to make all seven men feel like a whole entity.
"Well, I think we've got all the extra security needs in place now. JD, did you get agreement from Tiny for his empty barn to be used as a doss for the youngsters who imbibe too much of the local fire...?" Chris' enquiry trailed off and he snorted, rubbing his chin in disbelief at his words.
"Imbibe? Dammit! I think I've been listening too much to Ezra!" he laughed ruefully.
The other three men smiled. They were glad to see their leader had got over his angry outburst and had found a way to ease the tension with a joke at the absent gambler's expense.
JD took another swig of coffee, nodding in confirmation. "Yeah, it's all sorted out, Chris. With Tiny helpin' us for those four days, he's got his right hand man Chas Rawling's overseeing things at the barn. Chas has no objections with the use of the space, 'cos he knows we're gonna need it. Hell, they're gonna be takin' plenty of cash for all the extra hosses, so reserving that area ain't gonna cut his profits. And he reckons if there's any fuss, then any drunken troublemakers will end up cleaning out the stalls for the next two years! I reckon he could make 'em too!"
Chris gave a wry smile. He felt sure that the man was more than able to keep things in order and was pleased to have one less thing to worry about.
The door to the jail opened once again, and Buck and Josiah ambled into the office. The pair had just finished making the early evening rounds and, satisfied that the town was quiet, they had headed back to the jail.
Josiah had a wide grin firmly fixed on his face and kept shaking his head as though laughing at some secret joke.
Nathan eyed the two suspiciously. "Josiah, yer lookin' like Our Lord's blessed ya with an extra special place in Heaven when the time comes, while Buck looks like he's lost a dollar and found a cent!"
Buck snorted, and then grinned with alacrity at the others. "Yeah, you're nearly right there, Nate. Heaven it likely is. Leastways, that's what I'm thinking it is!"
Four pairs of puzzled eyes turned to look at the still grinning and smug-looking ex-preacher.
"What Brother Buck is trying to tell you, is that I've been asked to help judge the Carnival Queen contest instead of him," Josiah supplied, beaming from ear to ear.
The irony of this was not lost on any of the men, and Chris straightaway suspected Mary's hand in this choice. While all knew that Josiah wasn't averse to the occasional romantic dalliances, Buck was a self-confessed worshipper of the opposite sex, and frequently bemoaned how his natural 'animal magnetism' could sometimes be a curse.
"Mebbe they thought ya mayn't be able to choose one gal from so many, Buck. 'Specially as ya'll been sparkin' mos' o' them at some time or other!" Nathan put in, trying very hard to keep a straight face.
"Waal," drawled the ladies' man. "If you need some pointers, Josiah, just you ask me any ole time. I don't want you upsetting none of those gals, an' ruining their carnival."
"But Buck, ain't you the right choice to go comforting those ladies that lose out? Seein' as how you know so much about their feelings and all," JD asked, almost too innocently.
Buck's face split into a huge grin at that. "Why yeah, I think you're right there, kid. Those lovely ladies will have ole Uncle Buck to console 'em. I'll jes' let 'em pour out their troubles an' woes to me. It must be divine providence that my shoulders are so wide and comforting." He patted his left shoulder in a fatherly way.
"The Lord surely does work in mysterious ways," intoned Josiah sombrely.
Chris gazed at his laughing friends. They all, in their own ways, could usually lighten his melancholy thoughts, and he felt that the friendly banter going on now was just what he needed. At least with these men around him he had a fighting chance of keeping order in the town. Hell, he might even get time to enjoy himself too!
The first day of the carnival came with the sky dawning as blue and clear as the previous weeks had been. Decorations and bunting gaily festooned the town's buildings and all the business folk had made efforts to clear the sidewalks, giving the place a feeling of respectability. The streets were busy, with many people and children making their way to the end of town where most of the planned activities were taking place. There had already been a parade through the main street with a band playing, followed by the carriage carrying the newly crowned Carnival Queen, and jugglers, stilt-walkers and clowns had brought up the rear. As the procession reached the end of town, the street had seemed strangely quiet as the crowds had either dispersed or followed the colourful entertainers.
Ezra strolled along the sidewalk, nodding respectfully to the few women left browsing in the dress shop window. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Chris Larabee was annoyed with him — again. Dan Baylis, one of the extra deputies from Eagle Bend had been paired with Ezra for the duration of the carnival. This wasn't really a problem, but Baylis was definitely not a talker or even a good listener. He responded to the Southerner's conversation with small animal-like grunts and the constant rolling of his eyes heavenward. The gambler was starting to think that the young man was a mute, as all his attempts to find a common point of interest had failed.
When Chris had been drawing up the four day work rota, Ezra had asked the other to let him take daytime patrols, as the gambler was going to have his hands full running the saloon during the evenings. He'd already spoken to the remaining five peacekeepers, and none had any objections to his request. In fact, with the exception of Vin, they had all stated their determination to join in the festivities as much as possible, as even when working they would probably not miss much of the planned entertainment.
Chris hadn't commented much about Ezra's request, but had duly allocated the daytime shifts to the gambler. Despite the obscenely early starts — in Ezra's eyes at least — the gambler was relieved that he could still manage his evening business affairs without compromising the safety of the town.
Now, after meeting his morose, non-communicative partner, Ezra was sure that the gunslinger had deliberately chosen Baylis to work with him, especially as Chris knew how much the gambler liked to partake in witty and interesting conversation.
On reaching the end of town, Ezra looked around, eyes not missing any details. "I think we should now facilitate a thorough check at the rear of the buildings on both sides," the gambler drawled to the other deputy.
Baylis looked at his companion with a puzzled frown, and then scratched his head slowly before shrugging his shoulders.
Ezra let out an exasperated sigh. "I will investigate behind the buildings on this side, and you cross over and check behind those premises." This last sarcastically laden comment was said as the peacekeeper pointed out what he meant.
"U'huh," grunted the deputy, and crossed the main street, before making his way down the first alley.
Ezra was relieved to be on his own for a while. The other man was a positive bore, and the gambler was fast running out of patience with him. Maybe later on he would be able to swap partners with one of his colleagues. With this thought to sustain him, he turned to walk down the alley closest to the blacksmith's shop.
As he neared the back of the empty Grain Exchange, he saw two figures hugged close to the wall. A young ranch hand was holding the arms of a blonde girl, who was desperately struggling to get away from her captor. Ezra pulled out his Remington, as he sprinted up to the two. "Hold it right there!" he ordered, pointing the weapon at the man.
The ranch hand released the girl and she sunk to the ground with a sob. "Whoa, easy now, fella," he began, holding up his hands so the peacekeeper could see he wasn't armed. "I didn't mean nuthin' by it. The gal said she wuz lookin' for someone, 'n' I said I'd help her look. I jes' thought she looked a.... a mite sad, so's I was jes' givin' her a little kiss... you know, to cheer her up," the ranch hand slurred.
The peacekeeper caught the whiff of whiskey fumes as the other garbled out his explanation. Keeping his gun lined on the man, he crouched down to talk to the girl who, realising she was safe, had stopped crying.
"Are you hurt, ma'am? I hope this drunken miscreant didn't harm you?" Ezra's tone was soft, as he held out his hand.
The girl appeared to have regained some of her self-control and, as she slowly got to her feet, she nodded gratefully to her rescuer. "Yes, I am not injured."
The girl's voice was lightly accented and, as she looked up, Ezra recognised her as one of the young dancers from the ballet troupe.
"Well, ma'am, I need to place this imbecile where he won't cause any more harm. I'm Ezra Standish, one of those duly sworn to uphold the law in this town. I think you should accompany me, so that I can make sure you are unharmed. Mr. Jackson is the town's resident healer and I know he would berate me most fiercely if you were injured in any way and I had just left you here on the street."
"Thank you, Mr. Standish." The girl frowned, hesitating as if searching for the right words. "But... it must have been a mistake and, as you can see, I am unharmed."
"I would feel happier if you came with me, ma'am. The show will be taking place tonight and I am thrilled at the thought of seeing the performance. But it would be a terrible travesty if you could not dance due to this great shock," the gambler said firmly, relieved when the girl inclined her head in silent agreement.
With the not too steady drunk several feet in front of them, the peacekeeper and the Russian dancer walked up the alley, and then back along the main street towards the jailhouse.
Vin looked up as Ezra pushed the man through the door of the jailhouse. He had been keeping watch, as there were already several occupants to the cells.
"What's he bin doin', Ez?" the tracker asked, glancing at the girl.
Ezra chose his words carefully. "Ah... he was attempting to steal a kiss from the lovely lady. However, he was being rather boorish due to the amount of alcohol that he's consumed. I think our budding Lothario is just about ready to languish at your excellent facility for a while — at least until he sobers up."
Vin rose, keys jangling in his hand, as he led the drunken cowhand to the cells. "What's yer name, kid?" he asked.
"Doug Grantley. I work... fer Mr. James." The cowhand peered at the tracker owlishly.
"Well, Doug, y'can jes' stay in here 'til ya sober up, and then the Judge can decide what to do with ya. I hope yer boss is willing to pay yer fine, 'especially if ya drunk all yer wages at the saloon." Vin pushed the unresisting youngster into the cell and locked the door, as he issued his warning.
"I'll take Miss....?" Ezra looked at the woman, with a small frown.
"Anya Koklova," she supplied softly.
"Miss Koklova, I would be most happy if you would let me escort you to Mr. Jackson's clinic, so he can assure us that you have not come to any harm from this unfortunate episode."
Ezra's voice was commanding and, realising that the man was not going to take no for an answer, the girl nodded silently. With a meaningful look at the Texan, the handsome gambler then escorted the dancer out of the office.
As the pair left, the tracker picked up and opened the jail logbook to record details of the incident. Chris Larabee was insistent that thorough records were kept of every detainee in the jail, as Judge Travis would need the information when meting out his punishment.
Several minutes had passed when the door to the jail opened once more to admit Chris and JD.
"Howdy, fellas. How're things out there?" Vin had stowed away the completed log, and was pouring coffee as he greeted the two new arrivals.
"Fairly quiet at present, but I think it's just the lull before the storm. You can almost feel it brewing," Chris remarked. Gratefully taking the cup that the tracker proffered, the gunslinger went and sat in a chair.
"We need to sort things here, Chris. The cells are full already, and there's sure t'be more trouble tonight." Vin waved his hand in concern at the nearly fully occupied cells to emphasise his point.
Chris took a gulp of his coffee, as he considered the problem. "Yeah, I've bin thinking about that, pard. Even with the extra space at the stables, when we get the more dangerous drunks we'll need to lock 'em up so's they can cool down. Reckon the best thing is t'get the Judge to hold a special court session every evening or morning, then leastways we can get the more harmless ones fined and cleared out to give us more space. We can get Orin to fine them heavily so's they ain't got any money left for the remainder of the carnival. Hopefully, they won't be any more trouble to us after that."
The other two peacekeepers nodded in approval to Chris' suggestion. With limited secure holding cells, they knew that this was the only solution.
"Waal, the logs all written up now, so I reckon I'll take a break, Chris. I ain't on duty 'til early evening, an' that fat hay chomper of mine needs some exercise," the Texan stated.
Without waiting for a response, Vin rammed his hat on and strode out of the office.
It was early evening as Vin Tanner returned once again to the jail. He felt refreshed after his long solitary ride. While he liked to have some company, particularly when with his six friends, he'd begun to feel claustrophobic with the amount of people that were now occupying the town.
Josiah was sitting at the desk reading, as Vin entered the office. "The others out on rounds?" the tracker queried, as he sat opposite the ex-preacher.
Lowering his book, the other man nodded. "Most of them. I believe that Chris and Ezra are having a meal, and the last I saw of Buck, he was having another ride on the horse carousel."
Vin snorted derisively. "Yeah, that sounds 'bout right. I can't think what the hell Buck sees in that damned mechanical monster!"
"Well, Brother Vin, it sounds like you've regained your balance, and that's a mighty powerful force to steer you through the rigours that this night may bring." Josiah was well aware of how the tracker felt when confronted with hordes of people.
"Yeah, yer right there, Josiah. What's bin happening? I see the cells are all clear now."
"Yep. I think Chris had the right idea. An extra court session was held a while back and those boys were well sober, so Judge Travis ordered them to pay some pretty heavy fines for disturbing the peace. They were allowed to go, though the Judge warned them if he had 'em in front of him again, then he wouldn't be as lenient. I don't think we'll have any more fuss from 'em, 'cos most of 'em haven't got any money left to drink with now."
As Josiah finished speaking, the jailhouse door opened to admit Chris Larabee.
"Vin, Josiah," the gunslinger greeted, taking off his hat and hanging it on the rack.
"Is much goin' on out there, Chris?" asked the tracker, as the older man sat at the desk.
"It's reasonably quiet in town, 'cepting for the saloons and restaurant of course, and I spoke to Inez, but there ain't bin any trouble in Ezra's place yet. Course, once the ranch hands start drinking, anything could happen!" Chris gave his friends a wry grin.
Vin nodded knowingly. "Yeah. There ain't much we can do 'bout keeping the rival hands apart either. Is much happening down at the carnival, Chris?"
"Yep. There's a helluva lot o' folk down there already, waiting for the dance show to start, and the stalls seem to be doing a good trade too."
Chris grinned broadly as he continued. "I saw Buck and JD down there. They just had their palms read by Madame Lola, the Mystic Lady, but I'm not sure they liked what they heard. The lady said that JD would marry real soon and end up with three boys and three little girls, while Buck would journey across a great river in search of harmony and fulfilment. Whatever that is!"
"That likely means that Buck's going to learn to play the fiddle after crossing the Rio Grande. And no doubt JD will soon be arguing with Casey again, on how she can be so complicated." Josiah's mouth split into a wide beaming smile, as the other two men laughed.
"Is that pretty gal that Ezra rescued goin' to be dancin' tonight, Chris?" Vin queried.
"I think so. Nathan said she was okay after her fright, and that she didn't want to press charges. That's why I let the Grantley kid out. I think he's learnt his lesson. I just hope his friends don't loan him any money, 'cos he sure can't take his drink!"
Vin got up, and reached for his hat and jacket. "Think I'll mosey on down t'see what's going on at the carnival. I'll let Buck and JD 'ave a breather, Chris."
The gunslinger nodded. "I think Ezra was going to the dance show tonight, Vin. He seems to be avoiding me for some reason, so I'd appreciate it if you could remind him that he's on the early shift tomorrow morning. I don't want us to be left short-handed while he snores in his comfy bed."
With a small smile of agreement, the tracker left the jailhouse and headed down the street.
The ballet performance had already started when Vin reached the area where the stage had been set up, and a large crowd of spectator's sat in chairs that had been arranged in rows. The front seats were taken up by most of the town's dignitaries and their wives and, giving a wry smile, Vin noticed that Ezra had somehow managed to obtain a seat at the front, next to Mary Travis. Leaning against the wall of a building at the back, the tracker had a cursory glance around the temporary theatre before settling back to watch the show.
Madame Kristina was sitting to one side of the stage playing a piano, but it was the graceful movements of Anya Koklova that now entranced the tracker. He'd never seen anything so effortless-looking and beautiful, and the haunting melody from the piano followed her every movement as the solo dance reached its climax. With a start, Vin realised that the music had ended and the girl had sunk to the floor, head bowed in a position of finality. The applause from the crowd was rapturous as Anya got to her feet to take her bows. Then, as the applause eased off, the Texan saw out of the corner of his eye three ranch hands holding on to each other and making rude gestures at the stage.
Recognising one as Doug Grantley, the tracker also saw that all three were very drunk. Suddenly Grantley let out a series of loud whoops, followed by a piercing wolf whistle.
Vin started to make his way over to the three laughing men, when Grantley suddenly shouted. "C'mon darlin', let's see yer melons 'fore ya go!"
At his words, the drunken man collapsed in loud giggles against his friend's arm who, having seen the rapid approach of the peacekeeper, was desperately trying to shake Grantley aside.
"Get the hell outta here, ya stinking drunk!" Vin's blue eyes flashed angrily, as he grabbed the man and started to haul him away from the area. Ezra had suddenly appeared and grasping the other two, he followed as Vin frog-marched Grantley, none too gently, down the street. As they left, they could hear the piano start once again, as the dancers carried on with the performance.
On reaching the jailhouse, the two peacekeepers roughly pushed the three scared-looking and almost sober ranch hands into the room. Chris looked up as the five entered, and he could see by the stance of Vin Tanner that something major had occurred to cause the tracker to react so angrily.
"Ya better get this no good sonofabitch locked up, Chris, 'fore I'm up ag'inst the Judge tomorrow — on a murder charge!" Vin hissed.
As the gunslinger opened the cell door, Vin shoved the staggering Grantley in. He was followed more slowly, by the two ranch hands' held by Ezra.
"They bin causing more fuss?" the older man enquired in a cold tone.
"Ah, umm, y'all could say that is correct, Mr. Larabee," Ezra started to explain. "It appears that this foolish boy somehow managed to get himself inebriated again, and was most impolite to Miss Koklova after she had danced so wondrously tonight."
Vin paced angrily around the office, ignoring the concerned looks that his friends were casting his way. The tracker could feel the tension across his shoulders, and his hands clenched spasmodically as he tried to calm down. He was angry that the hot-headed youngster had been released from jail earlier, and could kick himself for not escorting the troublemaker out of town there and then. The fact that for the second time that day the drunken ranch hand had abused the young woman had infuriated the Texan peacekeeper to the limit of his tolerance.
Vin Tanner was somewhat in awe of all women, something that had been instilled into him by his mother from a very early age. He made no distinction between what society classed as 'good' or 'bad' women; to him any member of the female sex was to be treated with honour and respect, and should be protected from the evils of a harsh world.
However, this almost romantic idolisation did not allow the tracker to easily form relationships with women. He would either shy away from them completely or, worse still, dive headlong into a completely inappropriate affair, usually ending up emotionally battered and bruised. Occasionally Vin felt envious of the way his six friends were able to interact with the ladies of the town because, with the exception of Mary Travis and some of the town's older motherly women, he found it difficult to form any close attachments. This sometimes set him apart from the other men on a social level, isolating him even further from any interested women.
With an angry snort Vin went to the door, and with a glance at the gunslinger, he waved dismissively in the direction of the cells. "I need to get away from them stinkin' drunks and into some fresh air. Chris, Ezra'll fill you in on what happened." Without waiting for a reply from either of his friends, the tracker then strode hurriedly out of the jailhouse.
It was some time later, that a much calmer Vin was once more doing his peacekeeping duties. After checking back with Chris, he'd rejoined the others on patrol in the street. It was starting to get dark, and the extra lanterns that had been placed strategically along the boardwalk were now lit.
Vin walked along the main street away from the sounds of the carnival and in the direction of where his wagon was stowed. He knew that the dance performance had finished and, from the faint sound of fiddle music drifting along on the breeze, he realised that the barn dance was in full swing. This was to be followed an hour or so later by an opening night firework display. After that he knew they would all have their hands full as certain members of the town's occupants celebrated in the saloons. Also, with the rivalry that existed between some of the ranches, fistfights were bound to occur, especially when the ranch hands started drinking.
Vin was working alone tonight, but knew that Buck, JD and Baylis were fairly close by even though he couldn't see them. The streets were completely deserted as the first batch of fireworks had now been let off, and most people were gathered down by the carnival to get the best view of the display. The Texan looked up as a particularly bright rocket streamed across the sky, exploding with a loud bang to light the street with a myriad of coloured sparkles. As he reached the other end of town, the tracker went down the alley by the Telegraph Office.
There was no lighting at all here and, apart from the occasional brief illumination from a firework, the alley and rear of the buildings were in complete darkness. This didn't worry Vin at all; he'd spent many dark nights alone on the trail and, with his highly tuned hearing and eyesight, usually had no problem finding his way around.
Vin had reached the back of the Telegraph Office and, as he turned to continue down the rear alleyway, he caught sight of a smallish dark bundle behind a barrel near the wall. Putting his hand to his gun butt, he started to run towards the object.
A sudden quick movement to the right, caused the tracker to whirl around, and his hand started to lift his gun clear of the holster. Far too late, Vin realised his mistake. As he desperately tried to pull his mares leg out, the other person fired. A searing, hot pain coursed through the tracker's upper body, numbing his left arm completely. With a sharp cry, he stumbled heavily against the wall, not quite falling but still desperately trying to draw his weapon. In that instant he saw that the unmoving bundle close to the wall was a body and a small, bloodied hand poked out from underneath the dirty sack.
Looking up, Vin saw that his unknown assailant was even closer to him, moving with a silence that was almost uncanny. A dark floppy hat covered his attacker's face, putting the facial features into even greater darkness, and the other's attire was completely black. In the split second that it took for the other person to raise an arm to fire a second shot, Vin caught the momentary flicker of something small and bright, illuminated briefly by a lone firework. The gun barked once more, and the tracker felt as though his head had exploded, as a scorching white flash erupted in his eyes. Vin gasped in agony and, as a myriad of starbursts flashed before his eyes, he crumpled to the ground. The excruciating pain was mercifully short-lived, as the swirling red mists swallowed him into thankful oblivion.
With a furtive look around, the assailant placed the pistol in the lifeless hand that stuck out from under the sack, and then with an almost contemptuous movement, prodded the motionless tracker several times with a toe. The firework display had now ended, and the dark dressed figure peered up the alley as several people wandered along the main street, laughing and talking as they made their way to the area where their buggies were waiting. The attacker quickly turned and headed for the black anonymity of the back alleys, melting silently into the night.
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