Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
She knew there was something wrong because the townsfolk seemed to hush with silence each time she walked by, holding Ezra in her arms as she ran her errands for the day. They would steal glances at her from the corner of their eyes, trying not to stare but unable to stop themselves, as she moved among them, seemingly oblivious to their stares. The atmosphere in town was thick with tension. Something was about to happen and everyone was aware of it except her. It created icicles of fear on her skin and she clutched Ezra tighter in her embrace, forcing a little whimper from his cherubic lips by the time she had started for home. Maude felt her chest pounding with anxiety, unaware of why she should feel such fear but knowing without doubt that something was wrong.
She turned the corner to her home when she saw three very formidable looking men ride up the main street, capturing the attention of those who happened to see their arrival in town. Maude did not recognize any of them as she went on her way. Yet, as they rode past, she saw one of the men, a sinister looking creature with a thick dark moustache cast his gaze upon her as if she were the only thing on the street worth seeing. For a moment, Maude considered running because something about his look frightened her.
However, his interest was nothing more than a long stare which faded away once his mount took him further into town. Maude continued home, trying to shake the anxiety born of his interest and hoped that the Marshal was not too far away. Sometimes, only Peter could make her feel safe again. Ezra seemed to be just as unhappy by the encounter because the whimper had become tears and until she rounded the corner and saw their home in the distance, the child did not stop crying despite her efforts to cajole him into silence. Maude wondered if he sensed the tension in the air and guessed that it might be possible. Her son may not know exactly what was going on but he had her instincts and sometimes that was enough to detect trouble.
As she neared her home, she saw the Marshal's horse Sundance, tethered to the hitching post at the side gate. Although she was pleased to see him back, her brow furrowed in puzzlement because she was certain he had stated he would not be back for at least two days when they had last seen each other. Hastening her pace home, as she always did at the prospect of seeing him, Maude brushed aside the concern because she supposed he would explain it soon enough. Hurrying up the cobblestone pathway, she arrived at the door and was glad that Ezra had settled down. Before she even reached the doorway, the Marshal had swung the door open, in anticipation of her arrival.
The expression on his face froze her in her tracks.
"What is it?" She asked softly.
"Come inside," Peter beckoned just as quietly before his eyes shifted past her, scanning the area the way prey sought out the presence of the hunter. It was disconcerting when she understood that he felt as the former.
Maude did not argue and followed him into the house when he retreated first. It was not lost upon her that he stood by the doorway and ensured that she was inside before he closed the door. That and the fact that he was holding his gun when he had come out to greet her.
"Peter what is it?" She demanded angrily, her fear making her temper short. Maude glanced away for a moment, trying to compose herself when she noted a carpetbag seated in the floor of the hallway.
Her carpetbag.
She turned to face him, eyes staring at him in accusation. "What is going on?"
"You need to leave." He said abruptly, sheathing his gun in his holster. "Right now."
"Leave?" She stammered in confusion. "Why?"
He did not answer that question but continued speaking. "The carriage is packed and ready to go. I've put all the things that Ezra might need for the trip and a few supplies. If you leave now, you can get to the stagecoach in Valmont in plenty of time to catch it. From there, it will take you out of the Territory. You can make your way to New Orleans. I'll find you there."
"Peter I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!" She shouted and startled Ezra in her arms who promptly started crying again.
"Maude, I don't have time to debate this with you!" He barked. "I want you to go now. There isn't time to waste! I have to get you both out of here while I still can!"
Suddenly a flash of insight came to Maude and she stared at him in understanding. "I saw some men riding into town."
He did not answer but then he did not need to.
"They're here for you aren't they?" She asked, her voice almost a strangled whisper.
"No," he shook his head grimly. "They're here for us."
It was the hardest ride the five men had ever made to Four Corners, a situation not helped by the fact that they had a young passenger with them. Prior to their departure from town, Chris had wisely told a few of the townsfolk that trouble was coming their way. The people of Four Corners had enough experience in these matters to have some idea of what to do. By the time, the lawmen had Four Corners in their sights; the town was strangely deserted as people went to ground by returning to their homes and keeping their heads down until the crisis had passed. Chris had passed on similar instructions to Gloria Potter before they set out to rescue Robbie. Considering how vindictive Benjamin Bosshard had proven himself to be, Chris could not discount the danger to Gloria and her family when Mallaeson Davis and his gang finally came to town.
They had not seen Davis on the journey back from Purgatory but Chris estimated the outlaw would not be far behind him. What they had done in Purgatory had provoked the man into acting and Chris had every faith that if he wasn't after them now, he soon would be. In any case, it was just a matter of time. Riding into Four Corners, Chris was glad to see the streets devoid of people as he led the way to the livery. Behind him, Vin's mare's leg was drawn and held in the tracker's hand, primed to fire if anything came after them or got in their way during the journey. Josiah and Nathan were riding in flanking positions near Ezra, protecting the gambler because of the child he was carrying on his horse. Young Robbie's expression was one of muted fear. The boy was trying hard not to show his terror but it was glaring back at them from his wide eyes.
They arrived at Yosemite's livery without incident and Chris was gratified to see that the curmudgeon in charge of the place had wisely taken cover as instructed when they had left town to retrieve the boy. When Chris dismounted from his horse, preparing to stable it, he heard familiar voices calling out as the others did the same. Buck and JD were hurrying towards them from the direction of the jailhouse. No doubt, they had arrived in town to find it much the state that Chris had hoped it would be and had feared the worst as to what was happening.
"What's going on?" Buck demanded as he reached Chris. "Where's everyone."
"Hiding." Chris answered abruptly.
"Why?" JD asked before Buck could.
"We're about to have company," Vin retorted as he climbed off Peso and began leading the horse towards the stables.
"Company?" Buck looked at his companions for answers, feeling as if he had walked into the middle of a play.
"Davis." Chris explained, aware that Buck was about to start bellowing if he did not get answers soon. Patience was not a virtue the big man had in any large quantity. "Bosshard kidnapped Gloria Potter's boy Robbie so that she'd sell. That's what he had on her. He kept the boy with Davis at Purgatorio. We just went and got him but we couldn't do it quiet like and it's a good bet that Davis is on his way here right now with his men."
"Hell Chris," Buck's expression etched in concern. "Can't leave you boys alone for a minute can I?"
"You know us," Vin retorted as he paused next to them. "Always out for a fun time."
"How much time do we have?" Buck asked, facing Chris again.
"I don't know," Chris answered honestly. "I'd reckon they'd be right on our tails."
"That ain't much time." Buck pointed out.
"No it ain't," Chris agreed and decided there and then that they needed to move quickly even if Davis wasn't right behind them. "Vin, get up high to the granary, you too JD." He instructed rapidly, thinking up his strategy as he spoke. "When those outlaws come riding in, I want you to be able to take as many of them down before the element of surprise is gone."
"We're gone." Vin nodded slightly and glanced at JD to give him a minute to put Peso away before they went. The tracker led his gelding into the stables with JD following closely.
"Ezra, Nathan," Chris turned his attention to the gambler who was standing close to Robbie Potter as Nathan gave him a quick once over to make sure the boy was no worse for wear following his ordeal as Davis' prisoner. "Get the boy to his ma and then take point in the main street. Keep out of sight for the time being."
"Thy will be done Mr. Larabee," Ezra tipped his hat. "Nathan, you heard the man."
"You're okay son," Nathan ruffled the boy's hair. "You come through it pretty good. Now let's get you to your ma."
That seemed most agreeable to the young boy and he revealed his pleasure with a little smile for he was eager to see his mother again after everything he had been through. Nathan and Ezra set off to find Gloria Potter who had been instructed to take refuge within the schoolhouse with just as much haste as Vin and JD had taken their orders. Only Josiah, Buck and Chris remained which just how the gunslinger had planned it. There was one other thing that needed dealing with now that Mallaeson Davis and his outlaws were coming to town and Chris preferred it to be handled by anyone else other than Ezra Standish.
"Buck, Josiah, I'm gonna need to run a little errand. I need you both to run shot gun." Chris replied once the gambler and the healer were out of sight.
"What is it?" Buck stared at Chris, seeing the dark intensity in his eyes.
"Bosshard," Chris said icily. "I want him found. He's at the heart of all this and if we can get our hands on him maybe we can keep this from getting as bad as its liable to get."
"You think Bosshard can call Davis off?" Josiah ventured a guess.
"I don't know," Chris replied honestly. He did not picture Davis as a creature that could be reined in for too long and certainly their actions in Purgatory had enraged the killer enough to ignore the orders of his master. Chris had no doubt that the rope by which Bosshard had Davis tethered was very fine indeed since the man's blood thirsty nature was well known throughout the Territory. Chris suspected that most of the time, Bosshard simply unleashed Davis upon his enemies before stepping back to let the man's natural savagery run its course. In the case of Four Corners, it was almost certain that was what would happen, especially after they had inspired Davis's anger as they had by snatching the boy from right under his nose.
"Probably not," he said more decisively a fraction of a second later, having given the matter further thought. "I just don't want Bosshard running around loose when all the shooting starts. Him or his friend, Spenser."
"I'm all for that." Josiah nodded in agreement as well as Chris' decision to handle the matter amongst themselves instead of including Ezra. The situation between Ezra and Bosshard was volatile enough on its own without the inclusion of what was coming at them from Purgatory. Josiah guessed that Chris was still hoping to keep the bloodbath to a minimum even though it seemed rather impossible with the players that were involved in this particular crisis.
"Well let's do it then," Buck frowned, wishing they did not have to go around Ezra like this but supposed Chris was right. Bosshard had already murdered his father and attempted to force himself upon Julia, there was only so much a man could take before restraint gave way and Buck was somewhat surprised that Ezra had not snapped already.
It was a redundant statement as Chris was already striding forward purposefully towards the hotel where Bosshard was staying. Although Bosshard and Chris had been aware of each other's existence ever since the man had arrived in Four Corners, neither had meet face to face. As Buck watched Chris making his way forward, his black duster billowing behind him and the brim of his hat pulled down low, Buck had no doubt this first meeting was going to be eventful.
Vin Tanner emptied his pockets of the ammunition that did not fit in his gun belt, certain that before this was all over, he would need them. Placing them neatly at the place he had selected as the best vantage point when Davis and his men came, he checked his rifle carefully, ensuring that the weapon was in perfect working order. In the horizon, he could see no sign of the approaching enemy, but like Chris, he knew they were not far behind. It would not be long before they arrived. Men like Davis were surprisingly predictable. No matter how much they claimed to owe allegiance to another, it often became apparent that they were slave to their egos more than any other person. Mallaeson Davis was no exception to this rule.
Chris had wounded his pride with the rescue of Robbie Potter from right under his nose. The ruse the lawmen had perpetrated was one of desperation but it had worked and Davis would not soon forget that insult. Like Chris, Vin did not think Davis nor his men would waste any time in riding towards Four Corners. Their rage was fresh and revenge spurned them on with more determination than even the most powerful intoxicant. Vin had heard about Davis' terrible wrath and those helpless victims that had stood in the way of the Santa Fe Ring and had paid the price for their defiance. He had heard the stories and felt doubly grateful that Alex and the rest of the women were well away from here. The thought of Mallaeson and his men anywhere near the woman he loved twisted his insides with a rage equal to the one that was bringing the outlaw and his gang here.
Next to him, JD was conducting similar checks on both of his guns. The youngest of them hardly looked that as he made a routine examination of his weapons. His eyes were focussed, his fingers moving deftly over polished steel. Even though he still bore a youthful countenance, everyone in the seven knew that JD was no longer the child he had been when he stepped off the stage not so long ago. He would always be young to them but in his own right he was a man and a rather formidable one at that. Despite all the growing he had done, Vin could tell that he was a little afraid of what was coming at them. Vin did not blame him. Only a fool did not feel fear.
"You okay JD?" Vin asked once he had nestled his own gun on the edge of the roof, using the wooden edge to steady his mare's leg and his aim.
JD looked up from one of the twin Colt 38's he was currently inspecting. In truth, the weapons were always in good working order but at the moment, JD's fastidiousness had more to do with needing something to do rather than anything else. "I'm fine Vin. Just a little nervous."
JD was unashamed to admit it. If it were Buck, he would rather have died than made that confession. As much as he cared about Buck and saw him as a brother and a friend, Buck could sometimes make him feel like such a child and right now he id not need that. Vin on the other hand, seemed to take such answers with as little fanfare as possible with his eyes always reflecting empathy.
"Ain't nothing wrong with that," Vin drawled, his gaze not meeting the younger man's but heading out towards the horizon. Vin was keeping a watchful eye on things no matter what. There was no way on this earth that anyone was going to sneak up on them, not on Vin's watch that was for certain. "We've got a lot of trouble coming at us. I'd like to avoid it if I could."
"You Vin?" JD looked at him. "I didn't think you were afraid of anything."
It was true. JD really believed that. In the face of danger, Vin could be almost as glacial as Chris. When he believed in a cause, nothing could stop him from carrying it out to its end. He was more than determined about such things, he was downright stubborn and heaven help the man who got in the way of that determination. JD admired Vin because he was not so much older than JD himself. Sometimes the younger man wondered what it was that had shaped Vin's life, made him so much older than his years. JD wondered whether the sacrifice of innocence to gain that much experience was worth it but he did not have courage enough to ask Vin about it.
"I'm afraid of a lot of things," Vin admitted with a little smile. "I just try not to think about them and focus on what's ahead. You know like checking my guns and stuff."
JD chuckled slightly, feeling a little less edgier that he was not alone in his feelings of anxiety. "Do you think that we'll be able to stop them?"
Vin contemplated his answer. There were at least twenty in Mallaeson Davis' numbers. They had faced that many before but it had been victory won through a great deal of luck and no small amount of effort. Chris could have enlisted the aid of the townsfolk but he could not bring himself to do that when it was only the seven that Davis was after. To involve the rest of Four Corners was to risk their lives unnecessarily. The rest of the seven agreed with this reasoning. If they all were killed today then it would only be their lives that were lost, not some innocent who might have lived if he had not chosen to cast his lot with the peacekeepers. The seven could take the gang of outlaws, he was sure but they would do it by the skin of their teeth if they succeeded at all. He looked at JD and saw that the kid needed to know that they would make it. If JD thought Vin believed it, then he would do so as well.
Right now, belief was just the edge the boy needed to survive the day.
"Yeah," Vin answered in his too soft voice. "I think we're gonna have a tough time of it but I think we can take them."
Relief flooded JD's face and Vin knew that his words had gone some way to reassuring the younger man of their chances. Unfortunately, something else caught his attention that negated his ability to feel some measure of success at making JD feel a lot better about what they would soon be facing. In the distance, the cloud of dust was barely visible to anyone else who might be staring into the horizon but Vin had the far seeing eyes of a hunter, honed through years of watching the creatures he tracked and studying markers in the land where none appeared to be. His eyes narrowed as they shifted away from JD and remained singularly focused on that fixed point.
"They're coming." Vin said simply.
Chris motioned Buck and Josiah to hold position once they reached the top of the stairs leading to the corridor and the room where Benjamin Bosshard presently resided. They had been careful to remain unseen when they approached the hotel, not wishing to give Bosshard any warning of their arrival. A wise man unleashing what he had in the town of Four Corners would have left by now, being content in watching the destruction he was going to cause from afar. However, Chris knew that Bosshard was too arrogant for that. He would remain in town, determined to watch the death of his enemies because the desire to show them in their deaths that he was the instrument of their end was too much for the man to resist.
Bosshard was still here in town. Chris was sure of it.
Buck and Josiah waited in the stairway, their guns drawn as they watched Chris walk silently down the corridor, making nary a sound in his approach to the door. Being around Vin and his own experiences had taught the gunslinger all he needed to know about stealth and when he reached the door to Bosshard's room, he paused long enough to listen. There were voices behind that door, not loud enough to hear words but clear enough to know that one of them belonged to Bosshard. Chris felt his jaw tense and his fingers tightened around the peacemaker he had drawn long before reaching this point. Glancing at Buck at the end of the corridor, Chris nodded in answer to whether or not Bosshard was in the room.
Chris sucked in his breath and when he released it, his foot slammed against the wooden door and sent it flying open. He was through the threshold in less than a second after the sound brought everything into speedy motion. Bosshard who was on the chair started to rise quickly and Spenser who was pouring his master a drink, dropped the bottle immediately to make a desperate attempt to retrieve his gun.
"I wouldn't." Chris cocked his gun once in the lackey's direction; the glint of menace in his eyes indicating clearly what would happen if Spenser's fingers completed the journey to his holster.
Spenser's jaw set in anger but was unable to call the bluff when that icy glare was piercing his skin with its intensity. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down nervously as he came to the conclusion that he would not survive if he chose to draw. His hand dropped after a moment in surrender.
"On the floor." Chris repeated himself as footsteps pounded up the wooden floorboards, bringing with them Buck and Josiah as Chris stepped deeper into the room. Now that they were present, Chris could shift his attention to Bosshard who was standing up, his face reddening with fury as Buck went to remove the gun Spenser had dropped on the floor at Chris' behest.
"Mr. Bosshard," Chris stared at Benjamin Bosshard. "I thought it was about time we met."
"On the last day of your life Larabee," Bosshard sneered, angry but unwilling to concede anything just yet. "On all your lives." He barked at Buck and Josiah.
"Or yours." Chris retorted. "We know about Davis."
"Knowing about him doesn't mean you can stop him." Bosshard returned, unperturbed that the enemy knew his ace in the hole. "Mr. Davis is extremely effective. He'll kill you and then he'll get better acquainted with all your families. I hear the women in your lives are extremely comely. That was half the reason Mal was so excited about killing you."
"Sorry," Buck hissed, trying to ooze his good-natured charm when all he wanted to do was tear the heart from this son of a bitch. "Saw that coming too. The ladies are gone and where they are, ain't no where you'll be finding them anytime soon."
Bosshard's face darkened at the thought that his revenge might be incomplete. "I'll find them." He returned in a low voice. "When you're dead and buried, nothing will keep me from feeding them to Mal."
"Like you found Ezra and Maude?" Josiah asked, unable to resist deflating that arrogance ego just for one second. "Seems to me that you missed the mark there too."
"Get moving," Chris waved the barrel of his gun just enough for Bosshard to get the message that they were leaving this room.
Next to him, Josiah and Buck took similar charge of Spenser who did not dare to meet Bosshard's gaze. His employer's expression was dark and stormy and no doubt if they survived this day, Spenser was resigning himself to bearing the brunt of Bosshard's anger. The small group advanced to the door, with Chris maintaining his sharp eyes on Bosshard at all times. The hope that they might have reasoned this out was dwindling, if there had been any at all. Chris supposed that he should have known better but had felt obligated to try finding a peaceful solution. Unfortunately, Bosshard's manner indicated that nothing less than all their deaths would satisfy him and Chris was not about to give him that pleasure.
"Mal's coming isn't he?" Bosshard asked, guessing there must be some reason for their actions. For all the weeks he had been here, Chris Larabee had made no effort to meet him face to face. Bosshard could only deduce that the reason for this belated meeting had to do with a change in the status quo. Bosshard had sent Marks to give the outlaw the word to ride into town tonight but there was an urgency in Larabee's actions that indicated that perhaps Marks had disobeyed him, that Mal was not coming tonight but rather right this minute.
"We got Robbie Potter back," Chris said coldly. "You don't have anything to blackmail Gloria with."
"I've got her store," Bosshard returned triumphantly as they made their way down the stairs. "Signed seal and delivered."
"A deed signed under duress doesn't constitute as legally binding." Josiah retorted, not about to let the man think he had won something.
"You're going to take me to court?" Bosshard laughed derisively. "You're not going to survive the night."
"We don't have to take you to court," Chris' voice escaped him in a low hiss. "There's a friendly judge who will see it our way. In any case, you're done in this town."
"Pretty big talk considering you're all going to die." The man snorted.
"We ain't dead yet," Buck retorted. "And I wouldn't be too sure that we won't take you with us. Like Chris said, you're over."
They reached the hotel lobby and proceeded out the door. As they made their way out, Chris noted that the establishment was quiet. Sensibly, Mr. Heidegger, the owner of the Gem Hotel had taken Chris' instructions to stay out of sight until after the trouble was over. A few people still lingered in the saloon because for them, not even a gunfight was going to get in the way of their drinking time. Chris decided nothing was going to change their minds and supposed they would have sense enough to put their heads down when the shooting started. Keeping the barrel of his gun pressed firmly in Bosshard's back even though he would never consciously shoot a man in the back if he could help it, they ushered Bosshard and Spenser into the street.
No sooner than they had emerged, JD Dunne who was at this moment taking point on the roof of the granary because next to the Emporium, it was one of the highest structures in town, immediately called out to the gunslinger.
"Chris, they're coming!"
Maude watched from behind the window of the hardware store as the announcement was delivered to Chris at the front of the hotel. In her purse, she carried a revolver, having learnt her lesson the first time around that she needed more than a derringer to carry out the task she set herself. She watched Chris react to the news and felt her insides seething with hate when Bosshard looked over his shoulder at the gunslinger to display what was clearly a gloating smile of triumph. She would have killed him there and then except he was out of her range and she had no wish to harm Messrs., Larabee, Sanchez or Wilmington in her effort to do so. Thus she waited in patience as she saw Chris complete the journey across the street with Bosshard and his man, Spenser.
Despite the escalating urgency of the situation, Chris did not shirk from his intention of putting Bosshard where he would not cause any harm. She saw him march her husband's killer towards the jailhouse, no doubt intending to leave him there until the present crisis was done so that they could deal with him later. A part of Maude wished it would be that simple but she knew that powerful men who would do everything in their power to see his release protected Bosshard. She could not take that chance. This man had taken the Marshal from her. He had ended the life of the only man she had ever loved and denied Ezra the chance to know his father. When Maude thought of just how much would have been different if Peter had lived, it stoked her anger into white-hot fury.
Perhaps if Bosshard was dead then perhaps Davis might desist in his attack against her son and his friends. Surely, Davis could have no reason to continue the bloodshed when his master was dead. Maude hoped this was the case but she would have no answer until Bosshard was killed. Chris Larabee had entered the jailhouse with the rest of his companions and Maude waited for him to emerge from inside the empty hardware store. She could hear them beneath the floorboards, covering in the basement in order to keep away from the line of fire. Considering the troubles this town seemed to have, a precaution like this was second nature by now, Maude thought to herself.
Less than a minute after they had entered the jailhouse, Chris, Josiah and Buck appeared again. Chris appeared to give them instructions and the men scattered, no doubt to position themselves for the battle they were about to fight with Bosshard's hired killers. Once they were all gone, she stepped out of the hardware store, aware that she did not have much time to do what was necessary since she had no desire to be caught in the crossfire between the seven and Bosshard's outlaws.
The only killing that interested her today was that of Benjamin Bosshard.
Julia dismounted her horse at Yosemite's livery and felt a sliver of trepidation at why there was practically no one about. Not only were the streets devoid of people but there was an eerie silence about the place that most would associate with a ghost town not a thriving community like Four Corners. She wondered where Ezra and the rest of the seven were at this time and suddenly felt a profound need to see them in order to feel some reassurance that she had not made a terrible decision in coming back here. However, she had no doubt that if Ezra were to see her back in town, their reunion would be anything but happy. The gambler had specifically told her that he wanted her to be as far away from Four Corners as possible when trouble came, not be right in the thick of it as she was now. However, she was not entirely sure if what was taking place at this time was trouble but rather a brief interlude.
Sweeping across town with as much stealth as she was capable, Julia relied upon the buildings of Four Corners to provide her with cover as she tried to find Maude. The silence in the streets brought to mind an image of a battlefield just before the fighting began and the notion only made her more frantic to find Maude and get out of town. Pausing at the foot of building that house Nathan's infirmary, Julia allowed her gaze to sweep across the town. She felt it somewhat disconcerting that she could not see any of the seven even though in this atmosphere, she was certain they were around somewhere.
Suddenly, from the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Maude emerging from Virgil Watson's hardware store. Maude had the look of someone who knew exactly where she was going. Julia watched for a moment as Maude crossed the street quickly, her destination almost certainly the jailhouse. Holding back briefly, she observed Maude stepping onto the boardwalk before finally closing in on her destination. Pausing at the jailhouse door, Maude's sweeping gaze across town forced Julia to retreat behind a corner to keep from being seen. A second or two passed before Julia dared to look around the corner once more and caught sight of Maude's skirt disappearing through the open doorway of the jailhouse.
Julia took a deep breath, debating whether or not it was wise to follow Maude. After all, had she not wanted Bosshard dead herself? Allowing him to die would solve the problem of her father finding out her whereabouts. What right did she have to deny Maude her vengeance when Julia herself would be driven to the same thing if anyone took Ezra from her in the same way? The debate, such as it was, did not last long for Julia because she remembered the most important reason why she could not let Maude murder a man was Ezra. With everything else he had gone through these last months, she would not let him have to deal with his mother falling prey to the consequences of her vengeance. Ezra had suffered enough.
Bracing herself, she stepped out into the street once more, prepared to take the path Maude had taken and save the woman from herself before she caused any damage that was beyond repair.
"I won't go without you!" Maude shouted.
"You don't have a choice!" Peter said grabbing her by the arm and towing her towards the door. "I can't fight those men if I have to worry about you and Ezra. You need to be away from here Maude."
"Peter please," she implored helplessly as he steered her out of their home. She felt their whole life together contract into a fleeting moment about to be lost. She could sense it with every fiber of her being. She knew that if she were to walk out of this house, it would be the end and she would never have it back again. She could not bear it. She could not bear life without him but somehow, she felt it coming at her, almost like impending doom. "Don't make me go."
Peter closed his eyes, wishing he could hear none of her words, feeling his heart ache in pain at having to deny her because he wanted to run with her, just as badly as she did not want to leave him. He had never thought a man in his line of work could be happy but the three years with his Maude and little Ezra had been the best of his life and he would not trade that for anything. Even if his life was forfeit, at least he had touched paradise for a time. In his line of work dying young was something he had accepted would happen the longer he stayed behind this badge. He had accepted it. However, living if Maude and Ezra were dead was something else entirely and that thought alone hardened his heart into granite.
"Maude," he blinked his eyes open and stared at her with full composure. "Those men are going to come after us. At best, they'll kill you both, at the worst, they'll keep you alive and make you suffer a hell like you've never known just because they know it will make me twist and turn in the grave. I won't let that happen to you. Maude, if you love me, you will leave. Don't put me in a position where I may have to watch you and my son die."
"You're telling me to leave you to die!" Maude cried out.
"No," he lowered his lips to her forehead. "I'm asking you to live, for me."
Maude closed her eyes and felt tears running down her cheeks because she had never been able to refuse him anything. She loved him too much to ever say no to him and though it drove a knife inside her heart agreeing to what he asked, she knew that she would comply in the end. "Alright," she swallowed, wiping the tears from her wet cheeks. "I'll go but you promise me that you will not stay here any longer than you have to. You don't need to die anymore than I do."
"I promise," he answered. "Once I know more of what's going on, I'll high tail it out of here myself."
Maude nodded slowly, accepting his words even though they both knew he was lying.
The cloud of dust had dissipated and in its place were men on horseback. Vin Tanner watched them thundering towards Four Corners, appearing like the apocalyptic horsemen who had suddenly multiplied in number to bring certain death. At first they were indistinct, faces of anger and savagery, it was hard to tell one from the other. Their fury seemed to bleed into one after the other. It was like watching a whole not individuals. Vin saw the others spread out across town. JD had moved to the other edge of the roof, guns drawn. Vin and JD would be the first to encounter the invaders although in truth, it was more he than JD. The tracker already had his mare's leg poised to fire and was lowering himself to take careful aim as soon as the enemy came into range. Even though he could not see, he knew that the others were also fanning out across town, taking up optimum position to make their stand. He hoped he could lessen the odds for them a little and blinked slowly focussing his vision.
The group of men had crossed what was considered the outskirts of town, entering unknowingly into the tracker's field of vision. Vin had removed his hat, so he would not give himself away while JD crouched low, attempting to do the same thing. He glanced apprehensively at Vin, trying not to show that what was coming at them had some power over him but Vin knew that it did. Davis had an infamous reputation that someone like JD who had been influenced by the tales of the West in determining his life's choices could not be ignorant about. Vin shifted his gaze long enough to show JD he was aware of the young man's stare and they were in this together and he could rely on that if nothing else.
Vin turned his attention to the approaching riders who were well pass the town's boundaries and were also within the range of his mare's leg. He allowed them to get a little further, until there were buildings around them and streets ahead. It clouded their perception, allowed details to become obscured so they would not notice him until he had pulled the trigger.
"Its show time, JD." Vin said coolly and pulled the trigger.
The first bullet tore through the air and slammed straight into the man called Jaques shoulder. The Frenchman howled angrily a split second before he was toppled off his horse. Vin hardly paid attention as Jaques hit the dirt, trying madly to scramble out of the way before horses that could not stop in time ran him down. Vin was already targeting his next victim. The sound of open fire had scattered the riders and they split up in several directions in order to confuse the sniper who had already brought down one of their number. That suited Vin fine because it allowed him time to take care of the enemy in sections. Besides, he had anticipated this course of action once the element of surprise was exhausted. He tried to aim for Mallaeson but the man was much too crafty for that.
JD had emerged from his hiding place and was helping Vin cut down as many of the riders as he could possibly manage, shooting with both guns. The young man had learnt through experience to time each shot consecutively so one might be mistaken into believing that there were two men shooting at them instead of one with two guns. Mallaeson Davis slipped out of view and some return fire was coming their way. Bodies began to littered the dusty street and seeing how precise Vin was with the rifle, inspired JD to give the tracker cover when they were being fired at.
Vin winked at JD in thanks and began firing again, making every shot count because soon the riders were going to wise up to this attack and get closer to the buildings or worse yet, dismount and come after them on the roof. Vin knew he had only another few minutes left before he and JD would have to think about joining Chris and the others on the ground. He lowered his head as another bullet struck the wood near his position and sent splinters that force him to turn away. Meanwhile JD was firing both guns at the men taking refuge under some awnings in order to escape Vin's line of sight. The youngest of the seven quickly shifted his position to ensure that none of them had a clear shot of Vin and sent enough bullets into the air to keep them from locating the tracker with any ease.
Suddenly JD saw two men darting into the granary despite his best efforts to keep the hired guns away from the building that had allowed them to cause so much damage to the enemy's ranks.
"Vin!" JD called out getting to his feet. "Two of them are in the granary!"
Vin looked up just in time to feel a bullet smashing through the fleshy part of his thigh. The tracker cried out softly as the bullet escaped the fabric of his pants and created an expanding crimson stain where it had exited. Bullets began to riddle from under them and JD hurried over to Vin, barely avoiding being shot.
"We got to get off this roof." Vin grunted, stating the obvious and controlling his pain by the grimace on his features.
"I don't think we're going to be able to go up the way we came," JD pointed out.
Vin looked around, trying to think despite the sound of gunfire tearing through the roof. One of those bullets were bound to meet their mark eventually and Vin did not want either of them to be hurt any more than they were already. Glancing off the edge, he surveyed the uneven skyline and saw the only way out, though it was not his first choice as an exit.
"There." Vin nodded in the direction they were going to have to go.
JD's eyes widened. "Vin are you kidding?"
"Trust me," Vin sucked in his breath as he attempted to stand. "That's the last thing I'm doing. Come on!" He grabbed the younger man's shirt and started running towards the edge of the roof, hoping that he could bear the pain long enough to make the jump.
"Oh shit!" JD hissed as they went over the edge and landed on the roof of the bank a good ten feet from the top of the granary.
JD landed well enough but Vin's injured leg gave in as soon as he touched the hard stone roof of the building. His knee slammed against the surface, drawing another cry as he rolled across the roof from the force of his landing. JD immediately scrambled to Vin when the tracker did not get up immediately. Vin was lying on his back, his hand still grasping his rifle as he stared up into the sky overhead, an expression of stillness on his face.
"Vin! Are you alright?"
It was a moment before he answered. "Yeah."
"Can you get up?" JD inquired, his eyes fixed on the wound.
"Yeah but I'm not gonna." He replied.
"Why?" JD asked puzzled.
"Because my leg is fucking killing me!"
"Oh." JD answered and supposed he could give Vin a minute or two.
They had lost Chris.
One minute the gunslinger had been at their side and then he was not. Buck and Josiah found themselves taking refuge inside Digger Dan's Saloon, holding up a handful of outlaws who were hell bent on driving them out of the establishment by putting as many holes into it as possible. While Buck had positioned himself beside the batwing doors, Josiah had opted to make his stand at nearby window. Beyond the filthy glass pane, the former preacher could see at least five men, one of them he recognized from Vin's description to be Stephens, one of Davis right hand men. Stephens was evidently preparing to use the same trick that Chris Larabee had used to distract the outlaws when they had rescued Robbie Potter. Josiah had only to see the bottle being handled so carefully by Stephens to know that the man did not plan on drinking its contents.
Josiah took aim with his Schoefield revolver hoping that he would hit Stephens who was preparing to launch the bottle through the doors of the saloon. Although Digger's place was hardly their favorite watering hole, Josiah had no wish to see it burnt to the ground. However, it was difficult to take aim when bullets were flying through the window, threatening to take out his eye even as he tried to make the shot. Above and beside him, bullets tore through the glass window, creating ragged fissures where it did not shatter completely. Bottles on the far wall were being broken at regular intervals, until the floor became wet with alcohol and the fumes filled the walls of the room.
"Buck!" Josiah finally gave up trying and regarded Buck who was reloading his gun after sending a murderous assault of projectiles at the group of men attempting to burn down the saloon around their ears. "I need cover!"
"Say when!" Buck shouted as he finished his reload.
Josiah faced the window again and saw that Stephen was one step closer to constructing his little incendiary device and knew that if he did not hit the man soon, they were going to be in a great deal of trouble.
"Now!" He shouted.
Buck wasted no time and immediately began firing a round at the thickest past of the gathering. He drove some of them back and gave Josiah a clear line of sight to Stephens for a fraction of a second. Josiah was no sharpshooter like Vin but he was a damn good shot and squeezed the trigger with almost careful deliberation, even though the urgency of the situation did not allow the time for such consideration. The bullet escaped Josiah's gun with a loud bang even though the noise of gunfire was all around them and he should not have been able to tell the difference. However, he was of the opinion that one always heard the shots that mattered and this was no exception. It struck the bottle after Stephens had lighted the sliver of fabric that acted as something of a fuse. Glass and fluid sprayed in all direction. The bullet had not struck bone or flesh but for Stephens that hardly seemed to matter.
He was covered in alcohol and provided the flame with the fuel it needed to burn. The front of Stephen's clothes burst in flames and the man let out a scream of fear borne from the most primeval of terrors, the fear of fire. Within seconds, the fire had spread until his torso was encased in heat and he staggered out into the street, arms flaying about in desperation trying to put out the flames that he had intended for them. His companions attempted to aid him but by the time Stephens ended up on the street, it was more or less decided that the blaze around him was too much for them to risk coming to his assistance. Taking advantage of the confusion, Buck took the opportunity to dispatch them as they were momentarily caught by the dance of death before them. Josiah flinched as he heard Stephen's screams, not intending that fate for the man even if he had intended it for them.
When Stephens dropped to the ground, kicking and screaming, his entire body aflame, Josiah found he could stand it no more and fired another shot. This one was almost as carefully measured as the one that had placed the outlaw in this predicament. However, while that had been an act of self-defense, the second shot was one of mercy. The bullet struck Stephens in the skull, halting his screams and his agony swiftly. His flaying limbs dropped heavily to the ground, twitching one last time before he stopped moving altogether. Josiah closed his eyes for a moment, trying to make peace with his God over what he had done but wondered if he had as much forgiveness for himself as the Almighty had at what he had done.
Chris Larabee was not so much lost as he was tracking his own prey. Following the outbreak of gunfire, Chris had seen Mallaeson Davis break off from the rest of the group, leaving his men to commit as much mayhem as they could without him, while he followed his own agenda. Chris watched Davis dig his heels into his mount and pull away from the direction of the granary where Vin was evening up the odds for his friends. A few bodies littering the street leading to the granary had confirmed Vin's accuracy as a marksman for none of them got up again when they fell. However, Chris knew that once the tracker's location was discovered, the outlaws would converge upon the granary like a pack of hungry coyotes. Chris hoped that Vin had sense enough to get out of there before that happened.
Davis had seen the danger posed by the marksman and had steered his mount away from the kill zone, leading it to the boardwalk. He and his horse continued deeper under the town by taking the boardwalk. Keeping his head down low, the outlaw was able to make good progress through town, the sound of hooves against the wooden panels each time the animal took a step. He was easy enough to find, especially with all the chaos that was going and Chris had been forced to shoot it out to keep on the trail. Not knowing where the others were concerned him a great deal but he had no time to deal with that at this time, first he wanted to know where Davis was headed.
It did not take him long to learn what had been Davis' destination when he saw the outlaw dismounting his horse and striding through the office of the Clarion News. Chris' jaw set in anger, aware that there could only be one reason for Davis to go there and that was to carry out his threat of harming Chris' family. The gunslinger entered through the front door not long after Davis had disappeared, keeping his head down as gunfire whizzed through the air, slamming into walls and shattering glasses at periodic intervals. Chris slipped through the open door of the Clarion News and paused upon detecting the sound of footsteps moving rapidly through the building from where he stood. No doubt, Davis was searching the home for its occupants. Inwardly, Chris thanked God for the foresight that made him send Mary and the boys away.
Chris moved through the hallway that led to the top of the stairs, knowing each and every floorboard well enough to know what creaked and what did not. Sneaking into bed after a night at the saloon with his friends in the hopes of not waking up Mary had taught him that much at least. He heard a growl of dissatisfaction through the roof above him and guessed he was hearing Davis' frustration at not finding Mary or the kids. Chris pressed himself to the wall, waiting quietly in the shadows as Davis came down the stairs. He appeared soon enough, cursing under his breath as he descended the staircase. Chris waited until he was almost down before slipping his arm through the railings and grabbing Davis' foot hard. The action caused the man to lose his footing and he fell off the steps in a spectacular tumble, complete with colorful expletives to match.
Once he was on the floor, disorientated by the fall but possessing enough faculties to draw his gun, Chris stepped out of the shadows to promptly kick the gun out of his hand. The weapon sailed across the room, disappearing behind a divan. Davis seemed to stagger and Chris started to bring his own peacemaker to bear when suddenly, Davis lashed out across with surprising speed, sweeping his own gun out of reach. His eyes widened as he recognized his attacker and his voice escaped him in an angry snarl.
"Larabee."
With that he lowered his head and launched himself into Chris' direction. Davis was a tall and robust man, his head slammed into Chris' torso and propelled him into the divan, which was ill equipped to handle either man's weight and tipped over it over. Both Chris and Davis went sprawling with Davis being on top when they both landed on the hard floor. Chris felt his back meet the obstruction of wood a second before he saw Davis about to strike. Reacting swiftly, he brought his knee up and kicked hard. The tip of his boot connected with the back of Davis' head hard and unbalanced the outlaw enough for Chris to throw a punch, which effectively threw the man off him.
Chris rolled onto his knees just as Davis threw another punch and this one caught him on the jaw, sending him to the floor once more. However, Chris recovered faster and braced himself from falling over quickly. Throwing out one leg, he planted a foot firmly in Davis' stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Using his momentum, he used one of his knees as a pivot and faced Davis once more, throwing a second and a third punch while the outlaw was recovering from the strike to his torso. Chris went to strike again but Davis caught his arm and brought his head forward, slamming his head against Chris and dazing the gunslinger.
"I'm going to kill you Larabee," Davis gloated menacingly as he caught sight of his gun, exposed by the divan that had fallen away. He scrambled for it and Chris knew that if the man were to get the six-shooter, he would be done for. Looking around quickly for something to defend himself, most preferably his gun, Chris only found one of Mary's vases (the one he really hated) lying on the tapestry rug on the floor. It had survived the fall because of the covering, its flowers sprayed around it like a crown. Chris wasted no time and grabbed the ceramic receptacle and flung it forward hard. The object hit its mark dead on. The ceramic shattered into fragments upon impacting against Davis' skull. The outlaw went down without a word as pieces of porcelain broke around his ears. Chris watched his eyes daze with pain before he fell flat on his face unconscious.
Chris sucked in his breath and looked at the wreckage of the room, guessing it was not so bad and went to retrieve his gun which he had now had time to seek properly. He turned to pick it up when he heard something moving behind him. Swinging around almost in what was pure instinct, Chris fired at the same time Davis who had not been as incapacitated, as he seemed pulled the trigger. Chris bullet caught Davis dead centre but he felt his shoulder flare in white-hot pain as lead passed through it and was abruptly halted in a juncture of bone. Davis felt backwards, appearing to spasm in pain as he hit the floor, the front of his shirt wet with blood as he landed heavily.
Chris reached for his shoulder and saw that while he was not hit seriously, he would need medical attention soon. His right arm ached in pain as he walked towards Davis. Upon reaching the man, Chris dropped to his haunches, examining the man gingerly in case Davis tried to play possum with him again. However if he was, Chris estimated he was doing a superb job of it, as his pulse was thready and he glared at Chris on approach.
"You better kill me," he warned murderously. "I won't stop coming after you."
"I don't have to kill you," Chris said coolly. "In fact, I don't have to do a damn thing but watch you bleed to death."
Davis eyes showed no fear. "Man can't live forever. I'll die soon enough but not before I meet that pretty little wife of yours."
"You'll hang long before you meet my wife." Chris returned.
"You think so?" Davis let out a throaty chuckle. "I've been threatened with the noose before, ain't got there yet."
"It wasn't me bringing you in," the gunslinger said firmly. "I'll get you there and I'll see you stay there."
"Never happen lawman," Davis gloated.
Chris was tired of this conversation and threw one punch that ended the conversation abruptly. Davis' head slumped to the floor, knocking against wood with a slight thud. Chris glared at him, his shoulder stinging with pain over that and replied icily. "Never say never."
Maude entered the jailhouse just as the sound of gunfire ripped through the air and shattered the uneasy calm that had befallen Four Corners. She slammed the door close behind her, thinking it would protect her from the carnage outside, so that she could do what she came for before Bosshard's men overran the town completely. Stepping inside the gray walls of the building, she saw her quarry almost immediately. He had rose to his feet at her arrival and now his hawkish features were staring at the bars at her with a look that bordered caution and curiosity. It infuriated her to no end that the list did not include fear because he should be afraid, very afraid.
"Mrs. Standish," Bosshard drawled confidently as she swept deeper into the room. "Or shall I say Mrs. Reeves?"
"You shall say nothing," Maude warned as she revealed the gun in her hand. "Because I'm going to kill you."
"I guessed as much." Bosshard responded, "I guessed you would turn up sooner or later."
"Well you were right," Maude stepped closer to the bars. The hand clenching the gun was unwavering and her eyes were like sharp points of steel. She could hear nothing beyond the walls of the jail, not the voice of men trying to kill each other, not even the gunfire that attempted to deliver that death, just Bosshard's hateful words. For so many years, she had waited for this moment, waited for a chance of vengeance. Now it was just her and Bosshard. She hardly noticed that there were too many in the cell, just the one who killed Peter.
"I've waited for this my whole life," Maude hissed glaring at him. "I want to see you die the way you watched Peter die."
"He died a coward," Bosshard came to the bars and sneered. "He died a coward on his knees begging for his life!"
"You're lying," she said simply, not all swayed by his attempt to provoke her. "I know you're lying."
"How could you know?" He asked derisively, "he had you all squared away so that I couldn't get too you. You weren't there and I was. He begged like a baby for his life. He would have licked my boots clean if I had asked."
"Shut up!" She shouted, her temper getting the better of her. "None of that is true."
"How do you know what's truth or not?" He raised a brow in challenge.
"I know, you son of a bitch," Maude sucked in her breath. "Because I was there."
She should have left as he instructed but she could not. Instead she rode out of town and paused at the home of a local farmer and his wife whose acquaintance she had made during her stay in Eagle Nest. Maude knew it was foolishness but she could not help it, she could not leave him. Maude gave instructions to the family that should she not return, they would see Ezra back to her family down South. Knowing that she was insane for even contemplating this, Maude set out for town once more after her son's safety was secured. She rode back in the darkness, returning to town unseen.
Even from afar, she heard the gunfire and felt her heart stop at the absolute clarity of knowledge that those shots were meant for her Peter. Hastening back to town with her heart pounding in fright, she knew inwardly that she was too late, she would never reach him in time. Maude had borrowed some clothes form the farmer and had entered Eagles Nest appearing most masculine. Her disguise was good enough to fool because she had dealt in illusion long enough to know how to display one quite satisfactorily when the occasion demanded.
The streets were devoid of people in the face of the violence. The only ones who were out tonight were the men hunting Peter. Maude told herself that she was mad to even think of doing this. She followed the sound of bullets, each escaping projectile making her move faster before it was too late for Peter. It did not take Maude long to work her way to the center of town and in the street between the sheriff's office and the saloon, she finally found Peter. He was not dead yet but he was close to it. He was on his knees, bloodied from numerous shots, his gun in his bloody palm. His killers surrounded him; one of them being the man who had taken such interest in her earlier that day. The defiance in his eyes was pure Peter Reeves and she knew then and there, he never had any intention of joining her in New Orleans. He had stayed back to fight them because of Ezra and her, to give his killers an offering that would keep them from his wife and child.
"Where are they?" The man with the angular features and the moustache barked at them.
"Where you'll never find them," the Marshall said coolly, even though his blood was running the ground around him wet.
"I can find anyone," the enemy lowered his face to the Marshall's so that the wounded hero could see his nemesis eyes once.
"My wife isn't just anyone," Peter returned proudly, his chin up and even though he was about to die, even though he was the one who's body was bleeding and broken, he still made his enemy look small. "She'll disappear, she knows how. She always has. You have no idea how much trouble I had tracking her. Marrying her seemed the only way to keep me from having to do that again." His voice lapsed away, as if he was no longer talking to the man but rather reliving his memories, saying things he needed to say. "You can search forever but you won't find her unless she wants to be found and then you better pray to God that you don't turn your back on her because she's a hell of a lot smarter than I am."
Maude felt her heart twist in anguish. Tears ran freely down her eyes and then she saw him turn in her direction. His assassins did not notice the slight shift in his gaze because the Marshal knew how to be subtle. It did not surprise Maude that he had seen her because he had a keen eye and was almost uncanny in his ability to locate prey in almost total darkness. Their eyes locked briefly and in that instant everything they would ever say to each other was delivered in that deep gaze. He dared not spend more time than necessary in this endeavor before he spoke once more to the enemy.
"That's why I will always love her with all my heart."
"Not any more," the man she would someday come to know as Bosshard sneered and pulled the trigger.
He was dead before he even hit the ground and Maude had to bite into her knuckles, tasting blood, while forcing herself to keep from screaming when she saw everything that meant anything to die before her eyes. The bullet had penetrated his skull, sending fragments of brain matter in all directions thanks to the shot being administered at almost point blank range. She did not see his face when he finally landed on the dirt and to this day, she was grateful for that much because she did not think she could have lived with the nightmares that resulted from seeing the final expression on his face. The last thing she saw of her husband was the widening pool of blood under his head.
She made a silent oath then, that his killer would pay. She did not know how or when but she knew they would pay.
Even if it took a lifetime.
"I should have killed you in the hotel," Maude said softly, her memories dissipating into nothingness once more. "I missed my opportunity and allowed you to bring more grief to the ones I care about," she cocked the gun. "No more."
Bosshard took a step back, realizing in that last instant, having seen kinder eyes on hired killers than he did on the woman before him, understanding that there was no bargaining or price that would satiate her vengeance. She was going to kill him. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out of him because there was nothing he could say to change the mind behind the eyes boring into him with such fury he thought he might have been looking into a mirror for its intensity. For the first time, fear began to invade his thoughts. The night, when her son had taken his ear off, it had caught him by surprise and when the pain had dulled enough, he had felt rage but no actual fear.
Not like now.
Maude took aim, poised to fire when the door flew open.
"Maude, don't do it!" Julia exclaimed.
Maude turned her head towards her son's lover and the momentary distraction was all Bosshard need to reach through the bars and grab the lady's gun first. Fear had made him fast and he responded like a man half his age. His hand slipped through the bars and yanked the weapon from Maude before she had time to realize what he had done and that the table were now turned.
"Well, well, well," Bosshard's smile gleamed with triumph when he held Maude's gun in his hand, aimed clearly at her. "Looks like I may survive this night yet."
"Julia get out of here!" Maude ordered, prepared to die but not about to see Julia harmed for her incompetence.
"Yes," Bosshard glared at the lovely owner of the Emporium he would not never have, remembering what she had cost him the night before. "Run little Julia, see if you can get far enough away to escape me."
Julia swallowed thickly, dismayed at what her good intentions had done. Maude was now unarmed and Bosshard was. Julia had less than a second to ponder this situation before the sound of a single gunshot filled her world.
"No!" Maude fairly screamed as she watched Julia sink to her knees, the young woman's dress ballooning around her as she stared at her torso in dazed surprise, noting the crimson stain that was expanding across the cool fabric of her cotton dress with something akin to morbid fascination.
"Don't you move bitch!" Bosshard roared when Maude tried to take a step towards her.
"Go to hell!" Maude hissed in a mixture of anguish, heartbreak and unbelievable shame at what her machinations had wrought. She had not been afraid to die when she had embarked upon this course but never at any point, did she imagine she would cause Julia to be in this tragic circumstance.
"Not before you!" Bosshard barked. "You want to help her, get me and Mr. Spenser out of this cell and we'll leave you be. You could get her help and save her life. Don't help me and I'll kill you right now and you can both die!"
Maude's eyes filled with tears as she faced her impossible decision. She had no delusions that Bosshard would kill her the minute she allowed him freedom from his present location. However, what if he was telling her the truth? Could she afford to deny him if there was even the slightest chance of being allowed to help Julia? The young woman dying before her was the love of her son's life, the one woman he had dared pledge himself to after being so lost and alone for too many years. Because of Maude's insistent desire for vengeance, Julia was going to die and Ezra would never forgive her for it.
"Alright," Maude answered, feeling as defeated as she was. "I'll do what you want."
Ezra knew he was insane.
He thought he saw Julia entering the jailhouse but he knew that was impossible. She could not be here because he had personally seen to it that she was on her way to the Seminole village. Yet he knew that he was not prone to delusion and if there was even a chance that she could be in Four Corners with all hell breaking loose, Ezra intended to pursue the matter as far as it went. The fighting was fierce but as near as Ezra saw it, they were holding their own, with the possibility that they might even win the day. He and Nathan had been watching each other's back as they dealt with Davis' men one by one, until of course, Ezra had thought he had seen Julia.
"She's at the Seminole village!" Nathan called out as they made their way to the jailhouse, dodging bullets, delivering a few of their own and lowering the numbers against them along the way.
"I beg your indulgence Mr. Jackson," Ezra returned as they reached the boardwalk and gained some measure of protection by the added cover overhead. "If I am wrong about this, no one will be happier than I."
"You got that wrong!" Nathan declared, deciding that he would stay with Ezra because someone need to keep the fool from doing something that would get himself killed. Besides, if Nathan had thought he had seen Rain here amongst all this chaos, there would be no stopping him either.
Ezra did not answer Nathan's retort as he reached the open door of the jailhouse and stepped inside the room. What he found there was the stuff of nightmares. He saw Maude about to release Bosshard from his incarceration. Bosshard, who held a gun in his hands and was taking aim at the sight of him. And then there was Julia. When Ezra saw her, his mind went numb and everything that transpired after her discovery was not even a conscious thought but rather reflex. Ezra was barely aware of his brain giving the rest of him instructions when he raised his arm and pulled the trigger, again and again, ejecting one bullet after another, until the chamber of his Remington was exhausted and six bullets were tearing through Bosshard's body. Not even one of the projectiles grazed the bars because Ezra was a crack shot and it was going to take a power greater than what was present to keep Bosshard's death from coming to him.
Once there was nothing left in his gun and Bosshard had slumped to the floor, trailing a large smear of blood down to the base of the wall that became his final resting place, Ezra's mind finally regained some measure of recognition. However, what he woke up to was nothing he had ever wanted to experience. He was at Julia's side in a second and a second more saw her in his arms. She was not conscious and her alabaster skin took on a pallor that was almost ghostly. There was blood all over her and when he took her in his arms, his hand became red with it.
"Nathan!" Ezra screamed, gripped in a panic he had never known as he tried to stop the blood flowing out of his lover's body.
"Ezra, I'm sorry!" Maude was at his side. "I didn't mean for this to happen!" She stammered as Ezra started to shake Julia, desperate to revive her. He hardly heard a word Maude said. In fact nothing seemed to register except the fact that Julia was dying in front of him.
"I'm sorry!" Maude cried over and over again weeping pitifully.
"Nathan!" Ezra shouted again, hearing none of this and had not realized the healer was in the room with him but was retrieving Bosshard's gun before his companion, Spenser had a chance to put it to any further mischief. Nathan's first impulse was to go to Julia but he knew that Ezra was hardly in the state of mind to take care of this and so it fell to him to ensure that the situation was safe before he could deal with a patient.
"Ezra let me look," Nathan demanded coming between the gambler and Maude who was sobbing openly because she had been the cause of this.
"Julia," Ezra pleaded with the unconscious Julia, still oblivious to everyone else in the room. "Speak to me. Say something!"
"Ezra, let her go," Nathan tried prying the gambler's arms from around the wounded woman with little success. "I need to see her to help her."
"Don't do this Julia," Ezra begged further, becoming more and more frantic when he saw no response from Julia. He would have sold his soul a dozen times over if only for a glimpse of the familiar light in her emerald colored eyes. "Don't leave me. I can endure perdition's fires and the torture of a thousand demons but I cannot go on without you. Please give me a sign that you've not left me behind!"
"Ezra, if you want me to save her then you have to let her go!" Nathan tried again and finally, his words managed to reach the fog in Ezra's mind because the southerner's grip slackened enough for Nathan to be able to take charge of the wounded woman.
"You have to save her Nathan," Ezra stuttered, his hands covered in blood. Nothing much of his smooth, refined manner remained. "Please, I beg you. I do not know how to go on without her! I don't want to if she dies!"
Nathan had never seen Ezra this distraught, not since that night when he had woke up screaming following the attack by Hannibal Julius where not even sleep offered him any respite from his ordeal. He was sobbing at the sight of blood on her clothes, at the ragged entry of the bullet wound and the red stain that was her life all over his hands. Nathan wished he could say something to reassure Ezra t but he could not. As he examined the seriousness of the wound and remembered that the outside the jailhouse was a scene of violence even bloodier than what was in this room, he did not know whether or not he could help her.
And if he could not help Julia then he would have almost certainly failed Ezra as well.