DISCLAIMERS: Don't own them; don't make any profit off of them. All of the Magnificent Seven characters belong to MGM, Mirisch, Trilogy, and CBS. The original characters belong to me. Please do not use them unless you ask. All original characters portrayed in every fan fiction on this website, including characters' names, are fictitious and have no relation to nor reflection upon anyone living or dead.
Josiah's warning echoed throughout the mountains, and Buck didn't even question when Nathan had decided to come from his hiding place to help him. He just grabbed Vin under one arm while Nathan took the other side. The air above their heads whistled and whizzed as the bullets chipped and pinged into the rocks above them. Neither man noticed as they carried their injured friend from his entrapped position to behind the rocky wall and safety. Some of the bullets rained down from Jenkins' position while others echoed from behind and to the side of them as Royal's men joined in providing cover fire. Mace followed the trio rapidly with his arm firmly under JD's good elbow.
Buck cast a worried glance at Nathan when he felt the shudders engulfing Vin's body. They set him gently on his back in the welcome shade on top of the makeshift bed Nathan had already spread out. JD was deposited right next to him on yet another makeshift bed. Nathan had been busy, very busy. His doctor's bag was opened, exhibiting bandages, instruments, and several bottles of carbolic. He had even started a small fire and had set a pot of water along with a coffee pot to boil. However, he, like Buck was more concerned about the unknown cause that forced his patient to shudder uncontrollably.
There was too much noise with the gunfire permeating throughout the area for them to have a discussion. It sounded more like a battlefield than the seldom used mountain trail it was. Buck hovered over Nathan as the worried healer tried to get Vin's attention. JD looked on with wide eyes, and Mace looked as worried as the others. They all hoped against hope that it was not another setback for their friend after all that he had survived so far. Four anxious faces turned from worry to puzzlement to astonishment.
Vin Tanner was indeed shuddering, but it was not pain or fever induced shudders. Nathan had finally managed to get Vin to look up, checking his temperature to see if the younger man's fever had worsened, sending him into convulsions. Vin feebly batted the hand away from his forehead. Gasping for air by now, Tanner had been laughing so hard and moving so quickly despite the pain, that he had not yet had a chance to catch his breath. Now, as he had finally gotten control of his laughter, he looked up and saw the worried sea of faces above him. That only set him off again. His arms were clutched around his stomach as he gasped for air. He couldn't speak for his condition, so he merely stabbed repeatedly at the air with his wavering hand. Buck looked around him as did the others looking for whatever had set Tanner off.
Then, slowly, after seeing nothing funny or even remotely threatening anywhere but Jenkins on his perch across from them, Buck began to understand. A slow smile began to tug at his lips. JD was the next to understand what had set Tanner off into the uncontrollable guffaws. It seemed to dawn upon Nathan and Mace at the same time. As the gunfire slowed to a sputtering few and finally stopped, Tanner looked up, the tears streaming down his sweaty face leaving rivulets in the dust and dirt on his face.
He drew a shuddering breath and managed to rasp out, "Well, I guess I should be God awful thankful they didn't blow the hell outta all 'a us!" That set off a few snorts and a short bout of laughter.
"I'd give a month's pay just to see their faces. Ole Guy Royal ain't gonna let them live this down!" Buck slapped his knee with his hat in glee.
"And we are?" JD was grinning so wide that the corners of his mouth almost reached his ears.
"Y'all just shut up," Nathan ordered the men behind him without looking at them. Then, he turned to Vin, "An' you lie still. I got a bullet to dig out a you." They obeyed him despite the fact that Nathan's stern orders were given with a healthy grin as he began examining the wound in Vin's leg.
The amount of blood that had spotted the ground where he had landed after jumping off his horse had certainly weakened Tanner. However, with some quick surgery, lots of water and rest, he should be as good as new in a few weeks. The wound on his arm looked rather good, and Nathan would clean it again and bandage it as soon as he was done with Vin's leg. He took a good look at the small wound and several nicks and scratches on JD and Mace and then raised a querying eyebrow at JD. The young sheriff signaled his assent to Nathan with a wink and a grin. Nodding to Buck that he could handle it with JD's help, Buck patted Nathan on the back, tipped his hat to JD and Vin, then tossed a rifle to Mace. Both men disappeared to take up their positions to help flush Jenkins off of his sniper's perch.
Vin probably would have laughed even harder had he seen what had kept Larabee and Standish from aiming, much less firing their weapons at the dynamite Josiah had thrown over their heads. The older man was still holding his badly bruised thumb that he had forgotten to tuck out of the way of the shot's slings. His thumb had nearly separated from his hand while shooting the dynamite with Buck's lucky slingshot. He had always hated those damn things, but he had thought that age and experience would have engendered at least a logical understanding of how to shoot dynamite with one. He just should have thrown the damn sticks; but, no, he had been afraid that his throwing arm was not up to it due to the rheumatism that had begun to plague him when he had spent one too many nights sleeping out in the open air.
Too many damp nights out usually made his shoulder stiff and sore, and this day had been no different. The hard riding and little sleep on the hard ground had made him a little stiffer than usual, and he had found to his dismay that when he had tried to take a practice throw, that his shoulder had protested, shooting stiff ropes of agony into his arm and back. He was getting too old for some of these escapades, but he refused to go gracefully into the old age home for former priests with a healthy Old Testament outlook on life. He shook his head in disgust. His damned pride should have been swallowed, and he should have insisted that Buck take care of the dynamite. He could have exchanged his poncho for Buck's jacket for the disguise. He should have even mixed up some dirt and water for mud to make his hair darker, so he could have blended in with the trapped men. Surely, he could have slumped down making his height even less than Buck's. He should have taken a practice throw before he had left to climb up to his perch. He had let them all down, and five men could have paid the penalty for all of the "should have done's" that he had not thought of prior to this.
Finally, Josiah took a deep breath and shook himself. Why was he sitting here berating himself up instead of thanking God for his deliverance? The good Lord had once again answered his prayers and taken care of all those guilt rendering "should have done's", for the dynamite had not really been needed at all. Thank God Jenkins was either a bad shot, or that he was getting too weak to hit anything he was aiming at.
Josiah remembered his despair as one stick of dynamite took flight high in the air and then took a sickening arc to fall practically right on top of the trapped men. Despite the agony the harsh movements caused his shoulder and the throbbing pain in his thumb where the sling shot had punished his pride, Josiah had flung the dangerous sling shot on the ground. Then, he had taken the other stick of dynamite in his hand and had thrown it with all his might. This stick of dynamite flew further than the one shot into the air, but it was still miserably close to the trapped men. Jenkins had recognized what the projectile had been and had started shooting at it while Ezra's and Chris's guns remained painfully silent. He thanked God again.
"Thank you, Lord, for allowing Chris and Ezra the sense not to blow that dynamite up over our boys. And thank you for ruining Jenkins' aim. I owe you big time, but don't let that stop you from helping us bring this murdering thief to Your justice." That prayer said, Josiah grabbed his rifle and moved to cover Jenkins and prevent him from moving anywhere else.
The guilt might not have plagued Josiah as badly had he known that Sy Royal, not safety concerns, had prevented Chris and Ezra from taking aim at the dynamite he had gone through so much grief to hurl into the open sky. Thinking his nephew was suitably chastised and too injured to cause any harm, Guy Royal had allowed his men to dump Sy on the ground out of Royal's sight and virtually forget about him. Having heard his uncle's intention to turn him over to the Brecken law, forcing him to face the full penalty of the law for shooting the two deputies, Sy was ready to take any chance to steal one of the horses and escape. However, the tempting pose of his uncle with his back to him made him long for revenge over all the abuse that had been afflicted upon him by his uncle. Playing possum and making the others think he was no longer a threat, Sy managed to snatch one of his guards' guns just as everyone had their attention focused on Larabee and Standish. The beaten man managed to walk right up to his uncle and put a wavering six shooter against his unprotected back.
Ezra and Chris had seen the first stick of dynamite take a sickeningly short arc and then plummet to the ground nearly on top of the trapped men. Both men were stunned into inaction at first. Then, they turned their guns to fire on Jenkins and do their best to keep the man pinned down long enough for the stick of dynamite to fall harmlessly to the ground without killing their friends. Following their lead, Royal directed his men to do the same, thus taking everyone's attention completely away from Sy. The second stick of dynamite took less of an arc and flew unerringly towards its intended goal. Had the second stick been hit and blown up, it would have shaken Jenkins up quite a bit without pulling the whole mountainside down upon them all. However, neither of the two men had been able to fire so much as one bullet at the dynamite. They had certainly watched Josiah stand and throw the dynamite, but that was all.
Taking aim, both men were interrupted by a terse command to lower their weapons. Thinking Guy Royal had suckered them, they slowly turned, fully expecting a smug, triumphant look. What they saw instead was an unexpected look of consternation plastered all over Guy Royal's weathered face. Both men curtly ordered the other men who were trying to pin Jenkins down behind the rocks to hold their fire. Then, they all waited for Sy's intentions to be stated.
Ezra had actually waited to holster his gun until he saw Chris do the same. If Chris was willing to stand down, so was he. Ezra made an imperceptible movement making certain he had the correct angle should his 'Ace in the hole' be needed. He visibly relaxed as if just knowing the rig hiding his derringer was there brought him immense comfort. Making Sy think that they were no longer a threat to him would only make the injured man more prone to mistakes. However, Ezra knew that Chris Larabee would be a threat even if he had been hog-tied and left face down in the mud as long as he had a gun on his hip. The more danger, the deadlier Larabee became.
Ezra decided to step back and let Larabee handle it, since he really cared little for whether or not Guy Royal and his nephew killed one another. That was their private affair. However, his friends' lives meant everything to him, and he would not hesitate to follow Larabee's lead in order to save them. Besides, he knew Chris had no intention of giving Sy what he wanted. If and when Sy and his uncle became a hazard to just one life of the men Larabee claimed as friends, they became marked men. Chris would shoot to kill with no remorse, and no one would stand in his way. Ezra silently wished he had Vin or Buck here with whom to make a wager over what would win the day, the Larabee glare or the Larabee draw. Personally, he didn't think Sy Royal had the natural equipment with which to withstand the Larabee glare, but Sy really was awfully ignorant of his lack of expertise in threatening Chris Larabee. Backing Larabee and taking advantage of Sy's inattention to him, Ezra moved slightly out of the way giving Chris room to move. The gambler silently vowed all the while to memorize every single detail. This would be a tale with which he could mesmerize any audience for years to come.
Larabee marked Ezra's place without turning his attention from Sy. The young man was barely able to stand, and the gun wobbled in his hand swaying with the rest of Sy like a young sapling in one of those hurricane force winds Vin had described to him one night. It wouldn't take much to make the injured man fire, and no one could be certain where or into what the bullets would actually impact. In short, Sy was more volatile than the dynamite.
Chris narrowed his eyes and glared at both Sy and Guy Royal, giving them both a healthy dose of the Larabee glare. The gunman's mood was as black as his clothes, and he let the two men staring at him know that they alone had caused his displeasure. Guy Royal stood as still as the very mountains around them. He knew that Larabee was not interested in saving him. No one mattered to that spawn of hell except those seven men. Guy Royal was just an obstacle preventing Larabee from keeping his men safe, so he decided to give the man in black no reason to allow Sy to shoot him.
Sy, on the other hand, almost wet himself as the glacial, green eyes zeroed in on him. The gun wobbled even more erratically, and Guy Royal visibly gulped. The man who believed in "God, guns, and git the hell off my property!" regretted everything he had ever done to piss off Chris Larabee. Just one false move and his brains might be splattered all over the territory. Holding his breath, he stared at Larabee even though it appeared the man was no longer aware of his presence. All of Larabee's attention was on Sy Royal. Larabee gave no quarter to anyone who was a threat to his men, and Sy believed it now even if he had never believed it before. Right now not even Cal Jenkins existed. Chris Larabee's sole focus was Sy Royal, and Sy instinctively knew he was staring death in the face. It took only seconds before the younger man visibly wilted. The hand holding the gun that had been pointing towards his uncle's head dropped to his side as Sy opted to face Sheriff Johnson's unknown wrath rather than certain death at Larabee's hands. Ezra moved quickly to take the gun as Guy Royal turned as quick as a viper, his aim being to knock his already beaten nephew into the ground. A hand wrapped around his wrist like a vice. It was Larabee.
"Leave him be. We got bigger problems than your kin."
Since Larabee had turned the same deadly glare on Guy Royal that he had on Sy only moments before, the elder Royal let Larabee have his way. If you had any sense and wanted to live to a comfortable, old age, you did not poke a rattler in his nest. Guy Royal, therefore, was happy to let Ezra hand his errant nephew off to the men with the ropes ready to restrain him. He tried to take charge; but, before he could get a word out, Larabee barked out several terse orders.
"Ezra, keep an eye on 'em. Soon as I know something on Vin an' JD, I'll send Buck over with the news." He actually waited until Ezra nodded his assent, which astounded Royal and his men. They all shared the same belief that Larabee was a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but his men knew better. So, too, did Deputy Johnson. He reached for the six gun Ezra had taken from Sy Royal just as Larabee finished his orders. "You able to handle that with your arm trussed up like that?" Johnson grinned at him. Larabee actually grinned back, although it was a feral grin meaning someone was still on Larabee's 'to die' list. "We'll give Jenkins some more time to stew in the sun, an' then we'll flush him off that damn mountain." Royal's mouth dropped open as Larabee brushed passed him, pausing only to pat the older man on the back. "Thanks. I'll be sure I let John Terrell know just how helpful you were with rescuing his nephew today." To add insult to injury, the gambler standing next to him flashed Royal a smile that nearly blinded him when the sun glinted off the infamous gold tooth.
"My, oh my, but Mr. Larabee is in a most positive frame of mind, would you not agree, Mr. Royal?" Deputy Johnson bit off a snort of laughter, but not before Royal had sent his own deadly glare in his direction. Ezra, as unimpressed as he had always been with the bully, could not suppress one final dig at Royal. "Fret not, Mr. Royal. If you and your group of merry men would like to start for home, now, before any more violence should occur, I shall endeavor to make certain that Mr. Larabee imparts the entire saga of your pursuit of that miscreant Jenkins and all your assistance in the rescue of Misters Tanner and Dunne."
Royal snapped his mouth shut, refusing to be baited into an answer that would only set him up for more grief. He didn't know who he hated more at this point Larabee, Tanner, Standish, or his damned nephew for letting Jenkins get away in the first place. He contemplated gathering his men and leaving now, but he had this one chance to make Terrell feel grateful. Since he needed the money, there was no way in hell that Larabee and Standish were going to run him off before he collected.
Ezra turned nonchalantly away from Royal and his men. Several looked to Royal for instructions, but Guy just slapped his bound nephew on the head with his hat in frustration. His foreman motioned the men to flank Standish and Deputy Johnson on both sides as they stood ready to provide cover fire should Larabee need it when he crossed over to where Nathan worked in his makeshift hospital. He let his boss stand there fuming in his impotent rage. It was best to let Royal calm down before saying anything to him. Royal was known to strike with his fists or with his gun first and talk later. Glaring at his nephew and plotting ways to punish him for all he had done to ruin his uncle's chances at Terrell's gratitude and money was one way to let the man calm down. The odds were not good for either Sy Royal's or Cal Jenkins' survival.
Chris motioned Ezra to take over with Hank Johnson in order for him to help Trip over to where Nathan had his makeshift hospital. Hank Johnson's bound shoulder was painful, but not so much that he would shirk what he felt his duty required of him. Only the deputy in him cared if Sy Royal's uncle decided to take more of his frustrations out on his nephew while they were distracting Jenkins. All he knew was that Sy Royal would drive the devil himself into beating the crap out of him. How one man could behave so stupidly around a powder keg like his uncle, Hank had no idea. All Hank did know was that Sy had thought his uncle would have been pleased with his and Trip's deaths. That alone hardened his heart against Sy as he turned his attention to Larabee's signal for when he was ready. Trip needed Nathan's help; and, after Jenkins was taken care of, they could all go home.
Hank was ready to go home and sleep for a week. Only then would he be ready for another adventure with the Seven and their notorious twins. A wry grin lit his face as he knew that was a lie. Those two little girls were more fun than dirt, especially the way they had the Seven wrapped around their all too grubby fingers. Hell, he had never wanted to die in bed anyway. All these thoughts ended abruptly when Ezra began shooting, and Hank followed. The return fire from Jenkins was sporadic, and not even one bullet came close to its intended mark.
Larabee smiled grimly as Mace met him and took Trip from him. The deputy had used the rest of his strength to keep up with Larabee's fast pace. Trip collapsed on the blanket that JD had thrown on the ground for him when he saw Chris practically drag the man over to them. Nathan swiftly took in the bandaged chest and resumed his work on Vin. A tired but firm nod of Trip's head and no fresh blood on the bandage indicated to Nathan that he could finish with Tanner first and then check the other man after. Mace put his hand on his friend's shoulder silently asking how he was faring. Getting a tired, but reassuring smile from Trip had Mace quickly on his feet. He tapped Larabee on the shoulder. He motioned with the rifle Josiah had given to him that he would join the older man in preventing any escape attempt by Jenkins while the others were taking care of the wounded. Larabee merely nodded as the two men walked off and looked back down at the rest of his friends. His voice was a mixture of worry and fatigue, all of which made him sound a little rougher than usual.
"You boys okay?"
"Been better, but I'll live. Vin's the one who looks worse than he feels." Vin's silent hand gesture in response, and JD's snort of laughter had Chris grinning ear to ear with relief. Nathan's body language and Buck's facial expression would have warned Chris if either Vin or JD were in serious danger, so he allowed the tension that had held him in its grip earlier to slowly melt away. His swift, but all encompassing assessment of the situation made Chris thank that higher power Josiah was always going on about. In fact he was feeling downright merciful right at this particular moment and thought that he just might let Jenkins surrender. That way JD and Vin could join the rest of the Seven as they enjoyed watching the murdering bastard hang. He moved between Trip and JD, sinking down beside the younger man. He trusted Josiah and Ezra to handle things with Johnson's help. They had a sharpshooter in Mace, so he took a few minutes to lend his moral support to the man who needed it now.
Vin was sitting up with his back to Wilmington as the big man supported him against his chest. His oldest friend's casual nod hid the fact to those who didn't know him that he was using all his energy to support Vin both mentally and physically. Buck tightened his arm across the younger man's chest, effectively pinning Vin's arm against his body and preventing Vin from interfering with Nathan's work.
Nathan indicated he was ready to proceed by pouring a little more of the carbolic over his probe, and Vin tensed in anticipation of the pain to come. JD winced in sympathy, but he held his tongue as he felt Chris put his hand on his shoulder. Ezra had been right a while back when he had teased JD that he, too, felt the same way. ‘Big Brother' Larabee had the uncanny knack of making his six friends believe that everything would turn out perfectly all right without saying a word. Of course he could scare the shit out of you with one glare, but right now the Larabee glare was absent. For that, JD was truly grateful. He'd make sure that he gave Josiah a healthy donation for the church when they got back home for all of them making it out of yet another deadly adventure alive. The fact that they had six wounded including Vin and Jenkins; and, that they hadn't yet reached home, did not bother JD in the slightest. Besides, he planned on getting Vin to get Ezra to give the donation. It was the least the gambler could do since he had won JD's next week's pay for the second time this month.
Nathan began probing the wound following the path of the bullet deep into the thigh. Vin hissed as he literally sucked in the dry air to his lungs. It felt as if Nathan had just stabbed him with a white hot poker. He could feel the probe moving around inside his leg as he bit down on the leather belt Buck had offered to him instead of the roll of bandages JD had tried stuffing in his mouth earlier. The ladies' man kept absently patting the younger man on his shoulder as he watched Nathan work. Vin was wondering why in the hell Nathan couldn't find that God awful piece of lead since it was the size of a boulder inside his leg. Nathan should have been able to see the damn thing without sticking that damn piece of metal inside his leg like he was digging around in a pot of stew looking for the meat. His leg wasn't that big even if it was swollen the size of a ripe watermellon. Finally, after hours of the torture and still no bullet, Vin gave voice to his displeasure. His voice came out as a husky growl, pain and frustration clearly pronounced.
"Damnit Nathan! You been diggin' round in there for hours now. How hard is it to find one damn bullet? My leg ain't that damn big!"
Nathan never looked up and never even acted like he had paid Vin the slightest bit of attention. He just kept probing the wound slowly and efficiently until he finally located the bullet. With a grunt of satisfaction he finally spoke to, but didn't look at Vin.
"If you're lucky and behave for the next thirty seconds, I'll pull that bullet out of your leg. Gripe one more time, an' I just might leave it there as a reminder not to yell at folks' who're helpin' ya." With a practiced twist of his hand, Nathan ignored the groan of pain that movement extracted from Vin along with the surprised yelp from Buck and pulled the bullet out. He held it aloft for Vin to see. However, Vin's eyes crossed looking at the bullet held right before his watering eyes. He had nearly knocked both himself and Buck unconscious when he'd hit his skull against Buck's chin throwing his head back from the pain. Vin slumped against Buck who in turn slumped back against the saddle behind him. Still, Buck never once jarred his younger friend despite the feeling that he had just had all of his bottom teeth removed.
Nathan shook his head and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. He silently thought that Buck should have known that hit was coming and thus avoided it. If Tanner hadn't knocked a tooth or two out of Buck's mouth, Nathan Jackson would be surprised. Of course Vin's head was going to hurt like the dickens and Buck might not be kissing any lady he could find in the next few days, but Nathan figured it was only fair. After all, the only patient worse than Tanner was Buck, or was it Standish, or Larabee, or,..?
It didn't matter now anyway. The bullet had been extracted in time. Even though his leg was swollen, Nathan decided it was more from the trauma of the bullet ripping through the flesh than any infection that could turn into gangrene that had caused the swelling. A healthy dose of carbolic splashed into the wound along with a loose dressing to allow it to drain should do the trick. Lots of water, rich, beef broth, and rest for a day or two should have Tanner ready for travel. If the wounded deputies and others did as well as Tanner was faring, Nathan had no doubt they could be home within four maybe five days. That just left flushing that murdering bastard out of his nest. What happened next really worried Nathan very little. The Seven were back together again, their wounded would recover, and he did not have to tell the twins any bad news. For that he was truly thankful. As he dressed the leg wound in preparation to attending to the bullet graze on Vin's arm next, Nathan relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the heated exchange going on between his friends.
"Damnit, Vin! You must of knocked out all my bottom front teeth! Why'd ya have to rear back like that?"
"Well, hell, Bucklin, don't you know better than to lean forward like that? I think ya cracked my skull with that hard head of yours! I'm seeing spots when I should be seeing Nathan!"
"My hard head? Hell, my head is just fine, thank you. You're the one with an iron skull. Women don't like kissin' men with no front teeth. What the hell am I gonna do now that I ain't got no front teeth left?"
His voice had turned into a mournful moan that caused Vin to look up and concentrate on looking at the ladies' man. There wasn't even any blood. Vin caught Chris's amused smirk and rolled his eyes. JD was chuckling with complete abandon, highly amused at Buck's predicament.
"I guess you'd best hope that animal maggotism of yours still works now that you're just an ugly old gunfighter."
Buck threw JD an incredulous as well as wounded look. "Hell, ugly and Buck Wilmington don't even go in the same sentence, and it's animal MAGNETISM NOT MOGGOTISM!"
Vin was still leaning against Buck, and the older man had yet to let go of his charge. However, from the looks on the faces of his friends and the slight motion he felt from the younger man against his chest, he knew that Tanner was doing something to mock him.
"You want me to drop you on that head of yours, keep it up."
A totally innocent looking face was upturned to Buck's, and wide blue eyes grew wider with supposed alarm. Despite the fact he had been mimicking Wilmington's words with an accuracy Standish would have admired, Vin turned his most engaging look upon his friend. "What did I do? I'm the one that Nathan just spent the whole day diggin' around in my leg with that hot poker of his! How could I have the strength left to do anything to you?" His attention left Buck immediately as Nathan used Vin's lack of attentiveness in which douse the arm wound liberally with carbolic. "Ow! You have to pour that whole damned bottle of carbolic in just cause there weren't no bullet you could go carvin' in me for?" Nathan paused long enough to look up and smile at Vin, which Buck felt was just punishment for having his handsomeness marred and mocked by his younger friends. Jackson, satisfied there was no further damage, began bandaging the wound on Vin's arm.
"Settle down, ya big baby! Let Nathan do what he needs to save your arm and leg!"
Chris managed to catch the fist that swung backwards to inflict more damage on his oldest friend's face. He was grinning widely at both of them, pleased that Tanner was still his feisty and ornery self. Even Wilmington grinned at the response Vin had tried to deliver to Buck's insult. If Tanner had enough strength to think he could hit Buck with any effectiveness, then he had enough strength to recover completely. Buck winked at Chris, who laughed and stood up.
"When you two stop dancin', you can help me with Jenkins, Buck. Time we finished this."
Buck nodded and lifted his charge gently in preparation to lean him against the saddle and join Chris. Vin grabbed Buck's arm in an awkward rendition of his usual salute to Larabee. "Try not to get between Chris and his dynamite, Bucklin. I'd hate for you to get something blown off that Miss Molly, or was it Polly, no I think it was Dolly. Anyway, me an' the boys don't wanta hear your caterwaulin' iffen ya lose somethin' Miss Dolly likes ya for most."
"Nathan, you think you got the right bullet? Seems that JD said somethin' ‘bout Vin getting' shot in the head? You think ya need help lookin' for it?"
The healer snorted, grateful to the friendly bickering. When there was no morphine to help stop the pain, you could always count on Buck to keep the patient's mind as much off the painful procedures as possible.
"I got the right bullet, Buck, but you might want me to check those teeth of yours just in case. Looks like one or two of them broke off or cracked."
Buck Wilmington's eyes grew big as the meaning of Nathan's words struck home. He immediately felt his teeth for any injuries. He had been teasing Vin earlier; but, if the tracker had indeed marred his looks, Chris Larabee was going to need a new sharp shooter. The laughter from Larabee and JD had him striking out with the now discarded belt at both men. They easily dodged it, and Buck good-naturedly joined Chris to go and flush Jenkins from his perch. He paused only to look back and grin at Trip who had been lying there silently wondering just how crazy Larabee's gang really was. Trip wasn't as fast as Mace in discerning the way in which their bizarre senses of humor worked to the Seven's advantage.
"Once ya help out the deputy here, Nathan, let me know an' I'll come back and hold JD down for ya, so you can pour carbolic all over his cuts. ‘Course you might want to wait till we get Jenkins down. JD's screamin' might make the man go crazy with fear an' start shootin' better."
"I hope Miss Molly Polly Dolly ignores your ugly mug the next time you got an itch that needs scratchin', Buck."
"Now, JD,…" Buck was interrupted as three voices mimicked him.
"You know that ain't possible."
"You know that ain't possible."
"You know that ain't possible."
Trip joined in the laughter as Larabee pulled Wilmington off with him.
"That was a good one, Kid." Vin grinned at JD. His grin looked a little worse for wear and his voice had an edge of pain and exhaustion to it, but otherwise Vin felt a whole lot better than he had. It was amazing how one little bullet could cause so much pain and finally getting rid of it feel so dang good. Nathan handed him a canteen, and Vin saluted the healer before he took a long drink of water. It even tasted cooler to his parched lips. "Thanks."
Nathan patted his patient affectionately on his good leg before moving over beside Trip to quickly check his bandages. Whoever had gotten the bullet out had actually done a pretty good job of it.
"Hurt much?" When Trip shook his head in denial, Nathan nodded. "I'm gonna clean it with some carbolic and redress it. I know whoever fixed ya up cleaned it good, but carbolic's better than whiskey. JD, stay still til I get through here. Won't take me a minute, an' then I want to clean all those scratches an' scrapes real good, ya hear? Don't want anyone dyin' from gangrene when we coulda stopped it with a little carbolic."
Vin propped one very sleepy eye open. "Little, hell. Nathan, you use that stuff like it's water. I think ya like pourin' it on folks just so's you can hear ‘em scream."
"He does tend to bath ya in it, don't he, Vin?"
"You both settle down an' stop tryin' to scare Trip outa his mind, or I'll get Josiah to ride to town and bring me back a whole case of carbolic just to bathe you two in."
His threat fell on one set of deaf ears. Tanner had finally succumbed to his ordeal and was snoring softly. JD reached over with his good hand and pulled the blanket a little higher to cover his friend's chest. Vin would need his rest because right after Larabee scared Jenkins out of his hiding place, they would be discussing the best and easiest way to return the twins and the wounded home. JD took another drink of water and capped the canteen. Then, he, too, leaned back against the other saddle and closed his eyes. He would need it when Nathan started pouring that dang stuff all over the hundreds of scratches and scrapes and gouges he had from bullets, ricochets, and flying rock and debris. Almost, he wished he just had to have a bullet removed from his leg and his arm cleaned like Vin had had done. Almost, but the idea of Nathan digging around in him for a bullet reminded him of another time Nathan had to remove a bullet from him. It had not been the most pleasant of experiences, so JD just thanked God for his minor wounds. He would just close his eyes for a while until it was his turn, or until the shooting started again.
Chris Larabee stood out in the open, taking his time while he lit his cheroot. There had been no movement, no sound, nothing from Jenkins since that last round of erratic shooting. His injuries must have been taking their toll on the man, and Larabee could muster little sympathy for the murderer's plight. Jenkins had killed good people, including friends of a man he admired and respected. There were few men on that list of Larabee's, and John Terrell was right up there with Judge Travis. As if murdering innocent folk was not enough, the bastard had kidnapped and used two little girls as hostages, little girls who had wormed their way firmly into Larabee's heart. That alone made Larabee's blood boil. Finally, trying to kill two of his men had sealed Cal Jenkins' fate.
Chris had intended to bring Jenkins in to hang for his crimes, but it looked as if Jenkins would never leave the mountains alive. Fever and blood loss had taken their toll, and Larabee was in no mood to risk any more of his men in a needless assault on Jenkins' protected area. Chris could wait until he was sure that Jenkins had either fallen unconscious or died up there. Jenkins' wound would be festering by now, surely mingling pus with the blood that was oozing his life away every minute Jenkins stayed perched up there in his lonely aerie. Larabee knew that the families who had suffered losses at Cal Jenkins' gun wanted justice, wanted to see Jenkins hang, but Chris knew from experience that death would not bring the dead back to life. He had learned the hard way that revenge was a cold substitute for the absence of those you cared for, but Chris believed that those mourners left behind would take satisfaction in knowing Jenkins had died slow and in misery.
"You might as well paint a bull's eye on your forehead." Buck's voice boomed throughout the ravine even though he was whispering. Larabee didn't even twitch. He casually puffed on his cheroot while Buck took his place beside him.
"I don't think he could hit me even if he was conscious." Chris never even glanced at Buck, but he knew his friend was as alert for any sign of movement from above as Chris was. He felt rather than saw Buck take out Vin's new spy glass and hold it to his eye. The silence continued except for the sounds of the night's insects and other inhabitants as the sun took its lazy course down behind the mountains.
Buck spoke as he peered through the eye piece. "Nathan already thinks that if his wound was bleeding like Royal said it was, he might not last too much longer up there in that heat no matter how much water he's got. Appears he's right. You aimin' to test that theory out, or you just lookin' to take a bullet so's Mary can fuss over you?" That comment brought a grin of pure mischief to Chris's face. He glanced over to find Buck, spy glass put up in his pocket for now, grinning ear to ear and satisfied that he had gotten Chris's undivided attention.
"Well, what's your excuse for standin' out here with me? I don't aim to have Mary fussing over you, too, you old hound dog. And if Jenkins don't shoot you, Vin will for stealin' his new spy glass."
Buck snorted. No way in hell would Vin shoot him for borrowing his spy glass, at least Buck hoped he wouldn't shoot him. Ignoring Larabee's last comment, Buck answered his question instead. "Nathan told me to git, so I got."
"Your fussin' an' arguin' with JD was keepin' his patients awake, huh?"
"Well, Vin did wake up long ‘nough to tell JD to tell me to go an' tie a bow around it. Then, him an' JD started snickerin'. Mace was even grinnin', too. When I tried to find out what they thought was so dang funny, Nathan told me to git."
"You really want to know what Vin and JD were talkin' about? I thought you learned your lesson after they got you involved in that conversation where Molly or Polly thought you were asking to marry her."
"Now, Chris, I thought you said we would never mention that again if I never brought up the day Vin maneuvered you into that locked room with Mary when she was riled up somethin' fierce at you."
"What incident is that, Buck?"
"I knew you'd see it my way, Stud." Buck actually looked pensive. "You still think I ought not to ask what them two were snickerin' about?"
Chris turned a calculating eye on Buck. "You play with fire enough goin' after every woman in town. Odds are that whatever had them two snickerin' was somethin' sure to end up with mud all over your face."
"Did someone mention odds?" Ezra walked up to stand on the other side of Larabee. "Are you perchance wagering upon the health of our miscreant without me?"
"Been there, done that already. Chris was just tellin' me not to ask Vin and JD what had them snickerin'. I said them two were cookin' up somethin' to get to me, an' Chris said I didn't really want to know."
Making eye contact with Larabee, Ezra made a silent vow to find out whatever amusing tidbit they had to share about Buck. However, lest any amusement be lost to prudence on Buck's part, Ezra stepped in to reassure his friend. "I find myself in agreement with Mr. Larabee. I can only imagine that whatever feeble thoughts amused those two young men would hardly be worthy of worldly men such as ourselves, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Wilmington?"
Buck, who was still working out what Ezra had said, missed the flash of amusement in Chris's eyes. Ezra did not. "Well, okay, but if those two play another prank on me that ends up with me barin' my ass or bein' on the end of Inez's broom, I'm just gonna shoot first and run from Chris later."
A snort from Larabee and a two-fingered salute from Ezra satisfied Buck for the moment. Retrieving his flask of brandy from his pocket, Ezra took a generous sip and offered the same to his two friends. "I suggest we remove ourselves from the line of fire and reconnoiter with our compatriots in order to ponder our next move to thwart that murdering cretin."
"I can drink to that." Chris tossed back his head and let the brandy flow into his mouth. He was savoring the smoothness of it as he handed the flask off to Buck. "Let's go ponder our next move, boys." With that, they turned their backs to Jenkins and walked back behind the rocks.
Larabee's apparent lack of fear and respect for him had only enraged Cal Jenkins. He had watched Larabee walk out into the open and light his cheroot like he was stepping out of a saloon for some fresh air. Cal had tried to lift up his rifle to take a shot, but he did not have the energy to even pick up the rifle, much less aim and fire it. Larabee's nonchalance had triggered a rush of anger fed adrenaline in Jenkins, but it had only lasted long enough to raise the rifle and prop it on the rock in front of him. Jenkins lifted a shaky hand to wipe the sweat out of his eyes, but he was too dehydrated to notice there was no longer any sweat on his forehead. It wasn't sweat that was causing his vision to blur and make Larabee turn into two men, then three. The ever dwindling light made Jenkins believe that he was seeing triple, and the hopelessness of his situation was beginning to scream at his waning consciousness. He blinked rapidly in succession to clear his eyes, but the vast emptiness of the unconscious world was calling to him. The rifle slid down off of the rock to the ground beside him. His head slowly fell forward until he was resting it upon the rock where his rifle had been just seconds before. He never even saw the men turn their backs to him and walk off. It was doubtful that he would last long enough for them to plan his capture, much less take him from his deadly perch. What had once been his inapproachable stronghold was turning into his heat ridden coffin.
Nathan was just finishing bandaging the last of his patient's major abrasions when the three men walked back. Mace had seen them returning and had, at Josiah's insistence, slid rather than walked from his high position to give them the information Josiah had witnessed. Using the spy glass Vin had thanked him for returning along with his horse and other belongings, Josiah had finally located Cal upon his rocky perch. The former preacher had watched in silence as Cal's shaking hand had lifted the rifle only to have it slide back down to be replaced by his unconscious head. Jenkins was lying face down on the rock he had used earlier to prop his rifle on in his attempt to kill Vin, JD, and Mace. Josiah knew it was time to end all this. Waiting would only bring the night and the chance that with rest, Jenkins might recover enough energy to cause more damage. Josiah wanted this ended before the posse arrived at dusk with the twins. Also, climbing those rocks in the dark could be deadly. He did not want any of his friends hurt or killed, or for the twins to witness any more violence. Telling Mace to hightail it to Chris with the information, Josiah put Vin's spy glass to his eye once more and proceeded to keep his vigil.
Nathan had lied to him. The healer had assured him that there was no gangrene and that he would fully recover. Well, that ‘no good sorry excuse for a friend' had done the unthinkable and lied to him. He was dead and in hell; Vin just knew it. He had died and gone to hell, and Guy Royal was the devil. He could hear the devil yelling. And, he was hot; Lord but he was hot. His leg and arm felt as hot as the fires of hell. Fact was, he was sweating. But wait, neither Chris not Ezra had been hurt, so why did he hear their voices – heated but not yelling like that devil Royal? Vin opened his eyes until just a slit afforded him a narrow view of hell. If he had wanted that devil to notice him he would have opened his eyes all the way, but years of looking behind him for bounty hunters had taught him to be cautious. Through the narrow slits he saw Royal standing about 50 feet from him in front of Chris and Ezra waving his arms and yelling. Mace was off to the side and Dave Johnson was standing with him, his arm in a sling. OK, so he wasn't dead and in hell. Then, he must have a fever. Nathan had still lied to him. He was just getting ready to tell him so when the heat causing him to sweat like a pig moved and took the blanket with him. A cool blast of the evening air hit him. That was when he opened his eyes fully and turned to look at JD snoring softly with his back to Vin now. A movement from the other side alerted him to the other wounded deputy, Harvey Pulver, who was sleeping fitfully next to him. Royal's whelp was lying on the far side of the Harvey.
Vin's eyes narrowed as he considered which human heater to move away from. Recalling that JD was the less injured of the two; and, since JD had been radiating the most heat, Vin made his decision rapidly. Bracing his leg, Vin leaned over using his good arm to shove JD a good half foot from him. Grinning in satisfaction despite the pain it caused his arm and leg, Vin, just as quickly, lay back down, closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. The shove had succeeded in waking JD and Buck, for the ladies' man had settled down next to his wounded friends in order to give Nathan a chance to stand up, drink some coffee, and stretch his legs.
"What'd you do that for!" was the indignant shout from JD, who was now lying partially on top of Buck, having toppled over when JD hit him. Buck was too busy shoving JD off of him to see Vin grin openly while feigning sleep. He didn't even move a muscle when JD bent right over his face and yelled again, "I asked what'd you do that for!"
Buck lifted JD away from Vin, who he had thought had been sleeping. "Now, Kid, don't go waking Vin up. He needs his rest. Can't blame him if you roll all over the place in your sleep."
"Me? Roll all over? Hell, he shoved me! And he ain't asleep. He's lyin' there grinnin'!" JD's indignant voice drew everyone's attention.
"JD, hush." Buck was growing impatient with the younger man.
"S'all right, Bucklin. I'm awake now. I was dreaming about unloading all them boxes of store goods for Mrs. Potter. It was steamin' hot, like an oven in that storeroom. She'd gone and got me a cool beer from Inez cause I was workin' up such a sweat." Vin moved cautiously. JD was still glaring at him as he gingerly sat up. "What's wrong, JD?" Vin turned an innocent façade to JD and succeeded in lowering the strength of the glare considerably. His younger friend did not see the surreptitious wink Vin gave Ezra and Chris as they walked up. Chris had just finished laying down the law to Guy Royal. The older man had stormed off after Larabee had told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn't like Chris's plan, he could leave without any reward. Royal's mouth had snapped shut at that, and he had stormed off with Jasper Pekes trailing behind him.
"Sorry, Vin, I thought you shoved me on purpose."
"Now why would I do something like that? Only reason I'd have to shove you off of me is if you were too close for comfort. You boys noticed how cool it is tonight? Sure hope Jenkins is freezing his ass off right now. He deserves it, the low down, bushwackin' murderin' son of a…." Vin never finished because of the rumble he felt beneath him. "Someone best go and show John how to get back here without getting' shot by Jenkins."
JD looked at Buck, then Chris, and then back to Vin. "You don't know they're comin'. I haven't heard anything. Any of you hear anything?"
"Don't need to hear them. Can feel ‘em comin' cause of the vibrations the horses are makin' poundin' on the ground. Listen for a minute." Sure enough, the sound of hoof beats became clearer as the seconds ticked off. Vin looked up at Chris. "Best get someone over there to meet them."
JD forgot all about Vin shoving him into Buck. He was getting another lesson in tracking, and he was not one to waste any instruction that Vin was willing to give.
"I'll go."
"No, you won't." Nathan stood over JD with his hands on his hips. JD rolled his eyes and then flopped back onto the make-shift bed.
"I'll go," Buck got to his feet. He looked at Vin, and he got a look of unholy glee upon his face. "I'll be sure to tell the little darlin's that you two boys are hurt."
"Bucklin! You best not say anything!"
"Buck, you keep your big mouth shut!"
Vin and JD managed to yell after Buck as he rounded the corner. Both turned disgusted looks at the remaining men.
"Well?" Vin demanded of Chris, already thinking someone needed to be yelled at because once the twins found out he and JD were injured, they would hound both men mercilessly every time one of them lifted so much as a finger. They were worse than a pack of guard dogs.
Chris looked down upon the patients lying on the ground.
"Well, that is a deep subject." Ezra smirked at the lousy joke. Nathan had the grace to turn around when he grinned. Dave Johnson choked on a laugh, and Harvey Vin was grinning openly.
Vin glared at all of them to little effect. It was hard to scare the hell out of your friends when you were lying on the ground bandaged like one of those mummies Ezra had shown him once in a book. "Real funny, Cowboy. What're you gonna do about Jenkins? I ain't lyin' here lettin' him take pot shots at any of my kin."
"Don't have to. Me and Mace are fixin' to go up an' take him. Josiah says he's out, too weak to hold a rifle right now. Aimin' to get him before he wakes up and tries something stupid."
Vin nodded in agreement. "Best get to it, then. Let Mace go first. He's a lot quieter on his feet than you are, Cowboy." Vin ignored the Larabee glare and went on giving instructions, much to the amusement of the others. "He's a lot younger, too. Can move quicker if that bastard wakes up shootin'." Tanner waggled his eyebrows at Larabee.
Chris sighed as if this authoritative display was only being tolerated due to Tanner's injuries. "I think I can handle Cal Jenkins, but if you'd rather drag your sorry ass up the side of that mountain, feel free." There was no time for anything else as Buck rode up with two little girls straining in his arms to get free, so they could run to their cousin. Ezra took both young girls and refused to let them run towards the wounded men.
"My dear young ladies, we must not run. A lady should never allow her feelings to be read so easily by any gentleman. Have not Mr. Tanner and I discussed the importance of this with both of you before?" Both young girls stopped squirming and assumed their best poker faces. "That is much better. This way you will not cause any unnecessary injury to any of the wounded gentlemen. May I have the honor of escorting you?"
"Yes, please, Our Ezra."
"Yes, please. We promise not to trample anyone like a heathen would."
Both young ladies walked sedately with Ezra until they reached Vin's feet. Then, both girls maneuvered around his injured leg and stood waiting patiently. Buck came up behind them, and when they were both suitably shielded from Royal's men, Vin opened his arms. Both girls pounced on him. He caught them both close and hugged them despite the pain that lanced through his arm. Nodding to his uncle who had followed Buck and the twins, Vin let go of the twins long enough to grasp his arm in a salute very similar to the one he always gave Chris Larabee. The twins allowed this only because JD had several cuts on his knuckles that needed medicinal kisses. Frank Johnson walked up to check on Harvey who was by now sitting propped up against one of the saddles. He looked much better since Nathan had cleaned and re-bandaged his wound. Frank's son was standing next to his father, his dad's hand resting on the back of his neck. A bullet wound, even one that went clean through, still warranted a father's concern.
"I thought you were going to wait until we sent for you?" Chris was not angry, just wondering why John Terrell had not waited until he had sent word that it was safe.
"May I remind you who we had with us? Both girls swore that they just knew that someone had shot Vin, and that he needed them to take care of him. It was either bring them or hog tie them and listen to them cry." John looked resigned if just a little befuddled.
Frank Johnson nodded in agreement. "I don't know how you boys handle those two. Half the posse here wanted to lynch me an' John for waitin' as long as we did. I thank God I only had one girl with big, blue eyes. Twins woulda killed me."
Ezra shook his head sagely. "They can be most persuasive, and when persuasive does not succeed, loudness does. However, not to change the subject, you have arrived at a most auspicious time. We are about to flush the fox from his den, so to speak."
John raised a questioning eyebrow while Lisha leaned over and whispered loudly in Vin's ear, "Did Our Ezra just call me an' Sissy loud?"
Lison was also a bit curious about what was being discussed. Grownups had a nasty habit of using words children did not know when discussing important things around them. It was frustrating sometimes, but she and Sissy usually figured it out anyway. "Who's he ‘spicious ‘bout, an' why does he wanta flush some fox outa his den?"
"They're going after Jenkins. Josiah's spotted him an' says he's passed out. Gotta get him before he wakes up an the sun goes all the way down." Both girls listened carefully to Vin's explanation.
"Sounds good. You gonna shoot the varmint?" Lisha could be quite bloodthirsty when the situation called for it.
"He was gonna kill Tug an' Iza an' then sell us in Mexico. We heard Ours tell Daddy. You shoot him real good, Our Chris." Chris frowned when Lison automatically assumed he would be shooting Cal Jenkins.
"I don't plan on shooting him, girls. I plan on bringing him in to hang for his crimes."
"Uhuh, sure." Lison was not convinced.
"You shot the last snake in the grass that tried to hurt us," Lisha agreed with her sister.
Chris turned the Larabee glare full force on Vin as the tracker's unholy grin burst forth. It was seldom anyone truly got to Larabee, and here his two little girls did it without breaking a sweat. Knowing that the twins were as bad as Tanner, if not tutored by him personally in the art of pissing him off, Chris chose not to say anything further. Ignoring the grins of the men around him, he called out to Mace. "Let's end this, now."
Mace picked up his rifle and walked off with Larabee. Buck Wilmington was the first one to start laughing.
"Don't see that often enough. Little Darlin's, I ever tell you how much I love you?"
"Yes, but you can do it again."
"Yes, any time you want to tell us, you just go right ahead and do it, Our Buck."
The twins were being generous although they had no clue as to why the others were laughing or why our Chris had gotten so ticked off at them. They were only telling the truth. Daddy even looked a little put out, but they really had been behaving quite well. Their little foreheads were wrinkled in confusion until their daddy spoke to them.
"Unless your mother asks you directly, do not volunteer the knowledge that you think Chris shoots first and asks questions later."
"Another suggestion, my dear young ladies, never ever tell Mr. Larabee that you want him to ‘shoot him real good' even if you are speaking of a villain like Cal Jenkins." The twins looked at Vin.
"What Ezra said." They looked at one another for a moment; then, they grinned.
"OK, we won't tell Mommy that Our Chris shoots people that try to hurt us," Lisha started.
"And we won't ask Our Chris to shoot mean men any more," Lison added.
"We'll let him think of that all on his own." Lisha finished. There really was nothing more to say. They all turned to watch as Mace and Chris began the long climb in the dwindling light.
The trek up to Jenkins' perch was proving difficult in the dwindling light, but not impossible. Mace led the way and proved to be almost as sure-footed as Tanner. Chris didn't question, he just followed in Mace's path. Possessing a keen eye sight that was the key to his lightning draw, Chris followed halfway up the rugged path, ignoring the little rocks that splintered and sputtered out from under his booted feet.
"Who taught you to track, son?"
"Grandma's second husband was a man out of Tennessee." Mace turned a wicked smile on Larabee that reminded him of Ezra when the gambler was ready to spin one of his tall tales. "Seems he was kin to one of the men Davy Crockett took with him to the Alamo. He knew things about trackin' most folk never learn. He taught all of us from my daddy to my youngest cousin. Said a man who didn't know how to get along in the world ought to buy himself a coffin and wait for the Grim Reaper."
"He was right. He teach ya to shoot, too?"
"Yep. Pa says I'm almost as good. Vin's as good or better. Grandpa could hit anything, an' trackin' was his strongest skill."
"It's a good skill to have. Vin's been teachin' those twins of his. It's scary how good they're turning out to be at it."
"Yes, Sir. I noticed those little girls were smart as whips. Way they've learned how to survive out here is sure somethin' to be proud of. I figured Vin's been teachin' them. Younguns tend to pick things up real fast, least that's what my grandpa always said." Rocks dislodged by their booted feet started cascading down the path Cal Jenkins had used that morning.
Mace stopped immediately. He appeared to be listening intently. Larabee stopped beside him, feeling the growling of the rocks beneath their feet. More of the rocks disturbed by their trek up the track joined the other rocks tumbling to the bottom, stirring up a small cloud of dust and sending the men standing at the bottom stumbling backwards. Chris and Mace exchanged a look and pondered the wisdom of continuing upward. The decision was taken out of their hand when all of a sudden the rocks beneath their feet began to shift and move. Another look passed like lightning between them.
"Run!" they both shouted at one another.
Both men struggled to keep their feet as the path dissolved beneath them. No longer worried about alerting Jenkins to their presence, both men were running and sliding flat out to reach the end before the rocks tumbled down on top of them. Thoughts of the dynamite they had used earlier flitted across Chris's mind as he ran flat out. It must have disturbed more than just the area it had been exploded in. Time and erosion had worked along with the dynamite to cause the unstable area to virtually collapse.
One terrifying look behind him had him pouring everything he had into his speed, shoving Mace ahead of him. The rocky perch that Jenkins had claimed as his own was no more. It was cascading down as the whole side of the mountain came down upon them, and they were not quite fast enough. The rocks overtook them and buried them under the rubble as man and rockslide tore into the open space at the bottom. Ezra Standish was being held back by Sheriff Johnson while Guy Royal actually did one decent thing for one of the Seven. He and his foreman held Buck Wilmington back from rushing head long into the oncoming slide. Only when the rocks and dirt had come to a cloudy halt did Royal let go of Wilmington. He stood his ground while a livid Wilmington turned on him, his fist moving straight for Royal's face until it was stopped in midair by another equally powerful hand.
"We don't have time for this, Buck." It was said in a soft tone of voice, but the power behind those softly spoken words drew Wilmington's immediate attention and forced his anger into a manageable rage. John Terrell mirrored Buck's distress, and Buck immediately began to push his anger and concern into that area of his mind where he could channel their power into the control he knew he would need to save his best friend. For Buck would not believe for one second that Chris Larabee was dead.
Sheriff Johnson flanked Terrell while Ezra Standish stood to Buck's other side looking as if he was, for once in his life, not exactly sure what he should be doing next. That his mind had incredibly gone blank when the rockslide had overtaken Chris and Mace was still reverberating through his mind. Ezra reacted without thought when his own survival was in question. He knew what to do in a gunfight or when facing an angry group of lousy poker players who were trying to blame him for their inept play, but he had no idea what to do when the earth just swallowed a man whom he considered a friend, no a brother. Standish refused to believe that Chris Larabee was under all that rubble, for the man had cheated death so often, Ezra was beginning to believe that the man was invulnerable. He started to move forward in order to dig Larabee and young Mace from the rubble, for had not both he and Vin Tanner survived a rockslide relatively unscathed? The fact that they had survived one even worse than this had to improve the odds that Chris and Mace had survived. About Jenkins, however, Ezra had not even wasted a thought or for that matter any pity whatsoever.
Just as Buck moved to join the others in attacking the rubble looking for Larabee and Mace, Josiah barreled around the corner and slid to a stop with as much noise and clouds of dust that the rockslide had. Buck couldn't remember a time when Josiah had sounded so winded or so worried. "I saw it come down. Jenkins was bouncing around like a rag doll. What about Chris an' Mace? I lost sight of them 'bout a hundred yards that way."
"Where did you last see them?" John Terrell was taking charge, but he was cut off as Nathan came round the corner supporting Vin Tanner. JD was trying his best to hold onto the twins, who were practically running. John Terrell almost exploded then, and Ezra watched in fascination as the same vein that he and Tanner took such delight in causing to throb on Larabee's forehead began throbbing on John's. He would have laughed had he not been so anxious about the fate of his other friends. He watched as Tanner leaned heavily against a boulder, pulling the twins close to him. Each little girl was carrying a roll of bandages and a bottle of carbolic.
"You two stay here with me. You get in the way an' we go back behind the ridge there. You understand?" The twins nodded their understanding, but they would behave because they knew Ours would dig Our Chris out of the rubble with his bare hands if he had to. They had seen him try to get to his feet the minute he had heard Larabee and Mace yell, "Run!", and the ridge collapse in a roll of thunderous pounding. Nathan had not said one word, but had immediately risen to help Vin to his feet. That Nathan had not fussed at Vin at all had alerted the twins more than anything else could have just how serious the situation was.
Several more men rounded the corner as even Guy Royal approached with his men. He might hate Larabee's guts, but if the man was going to die, he'd be damned if he would let the gunslinger cheat him of the pleasure of killing the gunslinger himself. He exchanged a look with Tanner and knew that the younger man had divined exactly what he had been thinking. That suited the rancher just fine. It would save energy that way. Besides, the fact that saving Chris Larabee's life would put the man in his debt suited him just fine.
John Terrell took a look at the men who had stepped forward and sent them all to work with just one phrase. "We're burning daylight."
He followed Josiah to the area where he had last seen Larabee. One glance back at Tanner, and he turned as one and began to work shoulder to shoulder with Buck and Ezra. Sheriff Johnson took his position next to Josiah and JD with Royal and his men working on the other side. The men sectioned off into teams of three pulling debris and rocks with their bare hands and the few shovels the men had brought with them. Gloves were pulled on to protect their hands from cuts and blistering. Two men would continuously work picking up rocks and debris and handing it to the other men behind them. They worked quickly and quietly, each man waiting for the word that someone had been discovered. Five minutes had roughly passed since all this had happened, but it seemed like hours to Vin Tanner and the other wounded men who were frustrated at their inability to help with the rescue. His legged hurt like hell, but there was no way Vin would abandon his friends. He would not stay behind nursing his leg while his best friend lay entombed beneath the rubble. He looked up just as Buck turned round tossing off another large rock he had picked up to move out of the way. With a determined look, Buck nodded once to Vin and turned back to move more debris. He had just pulled another rock away as Ezra pulled more dirt away with his hands. He gave Buck a rueful look.
"Mr. Larabee had better make his presence known soon, or I shall be most displeased with him."
"You and me both, pard. We best find him cause I ain't tellin' Mary we couldn't."
Josiah wanted to urge John Terrell to go over and be near his twins should they discover all three men dead. He was just trying to find a way to say it and sound optimistic at the same time. He was saved from saying anything when Royal's group yelled out.
"We got one! He ain't breathin'!"
All the men stopped. Those who admired Larabee and considered themselves friends all held their breath. The twins craned their necks trying to see whoever it was, but Vin reached out and pulled both girls behind him, putting himself between them and the grisly sight. Nathan pushed JD into his place beside Josiah and ran over to the body. A quick glance told him the main cause of death.
"It's Jenkins! His neck is broken!" Later, Ezra would be overheard describing the collective sigh of relief that was given upon this news. In fact, their sighs of relief almost drowned out the low moan coming from directly in front of and beneath them. A hand broke through the surface, and a foot appeared a moment later, followed by a rather loud groan of pain. The dirty, dust covered boot was black and had abnormally dull looking spurs. The cuff on the hand was covered in a thick coating of dust and debris, but the color was unmistakably black.
Continued in Part Five
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