DISCLAIMER: No profit is made in any way shape or form from this fan fic. All of the Magnificent Seven characters are the property of Mirisch, Trilogy, MGM, CBS, and now TNN. However I would like to state that I do not wish my characters borrowed without my knowledge or consent. If you are not certain a character is canon or mine, I will be happy to let you know. Just ask or look at my list of original characters.
Maude had no way of knowing that Ezra was still alive. She only knew that her son had been shot twice and was lying unconscious on the ground. She had been forced to go with Ainsley and his men. As they rode further and further away, she forced herself to calm down and tried to make plans in which to ensure her safety. Maude knew her situation was dire indeed, but she still had resources. Ezra had insisted that she wear her derringer at all times, securely strapped to her upper thigh. As long as she played the compliant prisoner, they might continue to leave her hands free. Only needing an opportunity alone in which to get the gun in her hands, Maude had determined that she would stay alive, doing anything to ensure that.
The Army was chasing them, so she had some hope. Most of all her determination was to see Ainsley hang if he had caused her son's death. She was very worried about Ezra and had no way of knowing that Josiah was so close behind them, but it was the pale man riding off to her left that caused her thoughts to be so disjointed. He made her feel like a tasty pastry in a window shop with the way he kept staring at her and licking his lips. He caused shudders to go up and down her spine. He scared her as Ainsley did not and made her even more miserable than she was already. As it was Maude was exhausted, worried sick about Ezra, and just plain mad. It didn't matter she told herself. She had been in far worse spots than this and had extricated herself from them all by herself. Who needed the Army when you were Maude Standish? She straightened her back, glared right back at that odious man until his eyes dropped away from hers, and she cleared her mind of every thought but one. She would survive.
Meanwhile, Josiah had gone immediately to Ezra's side. One trooper had been dispatched to the shack to get Buck to drive the wagon here and pick up Ezra and take him back with Vin. He worked with yet another trooper to get the bleeding stopped to almost a trickle in the shoulder wound, but the bullet would have to be cut out. The other bullet had gone through the left leg. It was roughly bandaged while Ezra was still regaining consciousness. He jerked awake and would have fought the trooper helping him except Josiah's deep voice penetrated the depths of blackness out from which he was trying to crawl.
His shoulder felt like a white-hot poker had been rammed inside it, his leg little better. Ezra knew he had been shot. There were two of Josiah and two Army colonels leaning over him when he opened his eyes. He waited while they shifted and came into focus. He didn't see any stars or feel nauseous like Vin had, so he concluded that he did not have as severe a concussion as Vin had little over a month ago. Then he remembered why he was lying on the ground like this. He searched with his eyes among all the people for his mother, but all he saw was the body of the victim the colonel had ordered cut down. He gratefully accepted the water from the canteen Josiah had placed at his lips.
"Mother?" Josiah shook his head no. Ezra tried to get up, but his friend held firm. "We have to go and save her."
"We will as soon as the Army tracker gets back. This piece of trail has always been well traveled. We want the right tracks. The colonel is leaving two men with you until Buck gets here with the wagon. They'll take you and Vin back to town."
"I take it Mr. Tanner is still in one piece?" Josiah nodded and looked up at the two soldiers who had hurried up.
"I'm goin', Ezra. The tracker's back. These two men will stay with you."
"I'll be fine, Josiah. Save her." The older man nodded as he stood up. "She had her gun when last I saw her." That information made Josiah grin in anticipation. So Maude had a gun. That would certainly come in handy.
"I'd say the odds just changed a little more in Maude's favor, Ezra." With a grin for luck Josiah was gone with the rest of the troops.
Ezra watched them depart wishing he was going with them. The news that Buck was following with Vin made him feel better, but he suddenly realized that none of the others were with Josiah. He looked over at the two troopers who were digging a hole. One dug while the other stood watch. The colonel must have ordered them to bury the dead man while they waited. Ezra decided that was best since they had no idea how close Horace Winston was. He called out to one of them men.
"What happened to the other men who protect Four Corners?"
One of the troopers looked up and grinned. "You one of them? Man you boys are tough. I ain't never seen so many men shot up so many ways and you're all still alive an' kickin'." The admiration in his voice made Ezra grin at him. The man had just told him in his statement full of admiration that although wounded as he was, all his friends were alive and not mortally wounded. It was also one of the finest compliments Ezra thought he had ever received. He settled back to wait for Buck knowing that if anyone could extricate herself from a mess like she was in, it would be his mother. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Buck was talking.
"I told ya Ezra would be okay, now didn't I? He's just too ornery to die."
Ezra almost laughed aloud at the next statement. "You say that about everybody, Buck. Cordin' to you all of us'll live till we're a hundred cause we're all too stubborn to die."
"That's is because Mr. Wilmington is one of those annoyingly optimistic folk who always look at the bright side."
"Bright side my ass. He just likes hearing himself talk is all." Vin was leaning against Buck's saddle in the bed of the wagon. He grinned at Ezra as Buck yelped. Too busy thinking of a retort that would keep Ezra's thoughts off his mother, Buck managed to land on his bad leg when he jumped down to help the troopers load Ezra in the wagon. "You might want to hobble back on your own, Ezra. Bucklin's hit every rut and hole from here to Four Corners."
"Maybe you'd like to crawl home with him?"
"Shut up, Buck," was the unanimous answer from his two wounded friends. That was fine by Buck. Ezra had actually sounded a bit like his old self. Maybe Maude's situation was better than they thought.
"Ezra? We're gonna lift you into the wagon now." Buck finally had a chance to look at Ezra up close. He knelt down and saw two clear but worried green eyes looking back at him. Buck stayed in the wagon bed with Vin and Ezra while the troopers went to collect their things. The one who had led Buck here was standing watch as the other two finished covering up the body.
"I'll be fine, Buck. It's mother I am worried about. Josiah's gone after her."
"He'll bring her back all right, Ezra, you know that." Vin would have said more but they were interrupted by the return of the troopers.
"You're the law round here, mister. What you want done with this here money?"
The three men looked at the blood soaked money they had taken off the dead man. Then they looked at one another.
"You keep it." Buck made the decision.
"Not us. We ain't touchin' that money. Colonel would have our hides. Sides it's all covered with blood." The other two troopers were almost through, but they stopped long enough to agree with their friend. No one wanted the money at all.
"Then bury it with him. We don't want it neither."
They all agreed and finished the chore in silence. As they rode back Ezra demanded to know what happened to the others. Buck proceeded to tell him in detail while Vin interrupted pointing out the spots where Buck's embellishments differed from the story he'd already told Vin. It served to keep Ezra from spending the whole time brooding about his inability to help his mother. Nathan was waiting for them outside the hotel when they arrived. He took one look at the sorry state all three were in and shook his head. It was going to be a really long night.
Josiah knew they had little time in which to save Maude, so he entrusted his friends' lives to the troopers and left with the colonel. He didn't like it at all when the colonel called a halt ten minutes later stating that the horses needed to be rested. Common sense made him comply because he needed these men, and he also knew he would never reach Maude in time if his horse couldn't go any further. Plus, Ainsley would have to call a halt as well. Then, he sorted out all possible options that Ainsley could try in order to avoid the trouble he was in. So far no one but his men had died in this venture. He might get by with just a prison term for conspiracy with a good lawyer and lots of money spent in the right places.
Josiah didn't know if Ainsley's fellow conspirators would help him with money or influence simply because they did not want to be associated with him at this moment. No, there were two possible things Clay Ainsley could do. He could marry Maude and effectively prevent her from testifying against her husband, or he could kill her claiming he found her body carved up by the murderer Horace Winston who had escaped. Josiah wondered if killing Maude was a viable option. First, they had the documents with Ainsley's signature all over them. Second, Ainsley had been recognized by more than just the seven peacekeepers of Four Corners; the woman he had held hostage had already described him perfectly. She would recognize him again and testify in court. Maude's death while with him would add truth to her claims. If Ainsley could force Maude to marry him and have the marriage certificate dated before Maude handed the documents over, he could claim that she forged the documents to have him put in prison and take over all he owned for herself and her son. With the right lawyer a jury could be led to believe that.
However, Josiah doubted that Maude would marry the man who had left her son for dead. She would fight Ainsley all the way if she thought Ezra was dead. Maude would certainly weigh all her options, and she was a survivor, but this could be the one time when emotion could cloud her judgment. Therefore, marriage was not an option. If Josiah knew Maude as well as he thought from the way she had reared her son, Maude would give Ainsley a run for his money, playing upon every fear the man had. Her manipulations might just buy them the time they needed to catch up and save her before Ainsley decided that killing her was the best option. If Ainsley knew about Horace Winston and connected the mutilated body with the crazed killer, Ainsley would kill Maude as quickly as he could draw a breath. Then he could use her murder to worm his way out of trouble. He had enough money and influence to produce witnesses who would testify that Maude forged those documents. He could provide witnesses to testify that he was trying to force her into confessing because he felt he had no choice, that he was as distraught over her death as anyone else.
All these thoughts that were running through his mind were running through Maude's as well. She was driven by a fierce instinct for survival as well as motivated by revenge. For once greed took a back seat. Ainsley had her sitting on a log as they rested their horses. There were four men surrounding her, so that she could not reach her derringer or even try to use it. So, she sat as she schemed and kept an eye on that man who was still staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Ainsley had noticed it, too. She saw him stalk over and roughly pull the man aside. This was a chance for her to at least cause some mischief.
"You, gentlemen, are really quite foolish." She deliberately kept her voice low so only the four men around her. "That man back at the shack that Ainsley left two men to kill? That man is John Terrell's nephew."
She let her words sink in as she saw that at least one of the men knew who John Terrell was. She also kept an eye on Ainsley. He was still talking and gesturing to the man who was calmly standing there making no comment. Most of the men were watching their boss.
"Who's John Terrell, Bill?" One of the men asked quietly of the man who had started to fidget at the mention of Terrell's name.
"He's that railroad baron. More money than Ainsley, hell all the cattle ranchers here bouts. Nothin' Terrell loves better than a good fight. I seen him an' his men take on bands of Apaches and bandits with no more than fifteen men at the most. Never lost any of them. Man can fight, an' folks say you do to his kin, he'll get ya. Killed a whole band that murdered his brother. If Joe and Sam managed to kill that boy back at the shack, Terrell will hunt Ainsley to the ends of the earth."
"Hell, Bill, what we gonna do?"
"You could help me." Maude said it so low that the four men almost didn't hear her. "Ainsley's finished anyway, and Terrell might give you money if you help put Ainsley away." Maude fell silent letting what she had said sink in for all four men.
"Ainsley'll kill us fer sure." Daryl had said nothing up to this point but he had been listening and thinking. "If he don't, Army'll string us up."
"If you know where Ainsley's taking me you could go to the Army and tell them that Ainsley told you he was trying to rescue his wife and you found out he lied to you. Then you tell them that you will take them to where I am at if they will let you go."
"We won't git the rest of our money." Jiggs was not too bright, but he was greedy enough to want the rest of the money Ainsley had promised him.
"What good's five hundred dollars iffen yer dead? We got three hundred, an' if we do what she says, we get to keep it an' maybe get a reward." Bill had decided what he was going to do. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life as an outlaw. He signed on thinking he was going to intimidate homesteaders and farmers for the rich cattle ranchers, but he had not expected to be ordered just to kill people. He looked at the other three men. They all let him know one way or the other they were with him.
Maude was no longer paying attention to them. She had turned them from Ainsley's side to hers with just a few words. She would have patted herself on the back if she had the time. Men were so easily manipulated. If it wasn't money or women it was the fear of a rope around their necks. Ainsley was coming back with the odd man following him like a dog on a leash. He looked at her, and she felt a shock of fear. His eyes were feverish looking. This man was desperate for something; Maude just did not know what. Then she watched as he shifted his gaze to Ainsley. A sneer on his face made Maude aware that Ainsley had humiliated this man to the point of rage. Could she use that rage to help her?
Ainsley stopped near one of the men by the horses. He said something to him, but Maude was unable to hear all of it. She only caught snatches. Ainsley was going on and on about how the man was too chicken to fight his way up the back stairs of the hotel in Four Corners. It was Ainsley's opinion that the man had given up too soon thus getting his partners killed and forcing Ainsley to enter the fray and get recognized. The man protested and made as if to walk away. Ainsley shot him in the back. The four men near her murmured a faint protest. Maude couldn't have planned it better. She stole a look at the man standing next to her who winked at her. It was he who had caused Ainsley to confront the man. Maude did not remember seeing him at the hotel, but here he was with Ainsley. Why would he help Maude by eliminating one of Ainsley's men? She had no idea her unknown accomplice was none other than Horace Winston. Nor did she know that it was to Horace's advantage to eliminate as many of Ainsley's men as possible for how else was Horace to get his hands on Maude. Maude decided to see just how far the man was willing to go to help her. Knowing how Ainsley would react did nothing to stop the words that spilled from her mouth.
"You won't get away with this. The judge has the documents. Killing me will only get you hung."
Ainsley turned around and slapped Maude with the back of his beefy hand. She went sprawling across the log onto the ground. The four men she had spoken to earlier edged away from Ainsley. Even his other men backed away, but the man who had been so docile in following Ainsley was staring at the back of the big man's head with nothing but pure hatred. Maude would have to overcome her dislike of that man in order to use his hatred for Ainsley to her advantage. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand as Ainsley reached down to her. She looked him in the eye and dared him to hit her again. He had drawn his hand back for another blow when he was stopped by a hand placed on his arm.
"Those men, they're leaving, Mr. Ainsley!"
The four men galloped off before Ainsley could order them shot. He'd find them later. Maude watched as they rode back in the direction from which they had come. The odds had just turned in her favor. Bill and his friends would save themselves by saving her, and she just might have an ally in working against Ainsley. She just had to get over feeling like a bug caught under a microscope every time that man was around. He was a handsome sort of man if weak willed men appealed to a woman. His sandy blonde hair was straight and fine, but his face and hands were not the face of a ranch hand or a gunman. He was dangerous though, more dangerous than the other men knew. She looked around the camp. Clay Ainsley still had six very capable gunmen with him. Maude would just have to see who else she could get rid of. Ainsley would be on his knees begging her before this was all over.
With the Army surgeon's help, Nathan managed to treat all of the wounded. They were all on the first floor of the hotel; the lobby and dining rooms had been lined with wounded. No one was seriously injured, but Nathan and the doctor were keeping tabs on everyone making certain each individual had someone who could change the bandages and keep the wounds clean before they would release them to go home to their families. Ainsley's men, those still alive, were carted off to the jail to be watched over by the troopers left by the Colonel. No one had presented too much trouble until the surgeon had taken a break to eat. Nathan was alone with Chris and JD who were still trying to get up to go and help the others.
Nathan Jackson was in hell. He just knew it. When you thought with pleasure the ways you could shoot your patients and shut them up, then it was time to seriously consider a new line of work. He heard rather than saw JD as he tried to stand.
"Do it an' I'll dose you with laudanum."
"Aw geez, Nathan. I gotta go."
"There's a chamber pot right over there. Had one brought in just in case."
"I ain't goin' with all these folks gawkin' at me. Casey's on her way back from Mrs. Bridger's with food for us. What if she walks in on me?"
"Ain't nobody here but me an' Chris." JD threw him a dirty look.
Nathan turned his head so JD wouldn't see the grin that split his face. Serve that boy right. He was worse than Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee rolled into one. He heard Chris snort from the couch where he was sitting rather than lying down. He had several pillows propped under his arm to support his shoulder. Nathan made a mental note to send for Mary and Billy Travis as soon as he could. They might be able to keep Chris in line especially when he found out Nathan had hidden his pants, his boots, and his gun. At least Mary wouldn't let Chris shoot him.
"You gonna walk to the privy without your pants on, JD?" The Larabee sarcasm drew a burst of laughter from Nathan that he quickly hid as a coughing fit. "Casey's gonna get a real eyeful you get up out of bed."
"Aw, shhh,. . ." JD stopped as Mrs. Potter showed up at the door of what usually served as the dining room. "Aw shoot, Chris." That was all JD would say. He was just miserable and his hip hurt like hell. If Chris's shoulder hurt as bad as that deep gouge Nathan sewed up on his hip, then JD just did not know how the gunman stood it. He wanted to howl and now this. It was just plain humiliating. Nathan took pity on him.
"Miz Potter, you know if the hotel has any rooms that got any of those screens people dress behind?"
"I'll go ask right now. I believe that Ted Owens just rode in saying Mr. Wilmington is bringing in Mr. Tanner and Mr. Standish in a wagon." Nathan forgot about JD's dilemma. He looked at the two men who were looking everywhere for pants that were no longer visible.
"Nathan!" Nathan almost laughed at Chris's near shouted demand.
"You both just lie still. I mean it. I'll have 'em brought in here." He turned to Mrs. Potter as he hurried to the door. "Ma'am, can you get me some water to boiling and send someone to fetch the doctor?"
"I'll check on those screens while I'm doing that." Nathan had time to smile at the woman before he disappeared through the door. Then she followed him out to get things ready. JD and Chris were left to stare at one another.
"You see what he did with our pants?" JD shook his head no.
"I can't believe he stole our pants, Chris. This is all Vin's fault."
Chris had to smile at that. Nathan had learned that taking any of his injured friends' pants was the only way to keep them in bed for any length of time. Vin said he even hid a pair at Nathan's so he could have them there whenever he needed them. Chris hadn't believed him until now. He hated waiting, but Mrs. Potter hadn't seemed too upset. She liked Vin and Ezra, and she would have been upset if anything were really wrong with them. He kept telling himself that because if they were dead, he'd have to kill them both.
The door opened interrupting his thoughts, and Mrs. Potter asked where the screen was needed. Chris pointed to where JD was sitting up in bed with his leg propped up. Gloria stood aside and directed two men to carry the screen over to JD's cot.
"Go ahead and set it up in front of his bed, ma'am." Mrs. Potter frowned at Chris for a moment, and then she caught on very quickly.
"Yes, gentlemen. Put it right here." She adjusted it where it blocked JD's cot from complete sight, and she silently nudged the chamber pot within reach of the injured young man. She actually winked at Chris as she ushered the two men out of the room ahead of her. "I'll just make certain that no one enters unless they knock."
"Ma'am?" Chris needed to know about Vin and Ezra.
"Mr. Owens ran into the troopers and our boys right outside of town. One's got a bullet to the shoulder and the other has some broken ribs." With that she was out the door, shutting it behind her. Chris let out a sigh of relief. So did JD, but it was for purely selfish reasons. Chris actually smiled at the muttering coming from behind the screen. JD probably talked his way through his own birth.
Ten minutes later Chris heard the noise outside the in the lobby.
"I can walk, Nathan. Hell, I lived through every damn rut and bump in the road Bucklin could find." The Texas drawl sounded just a tad peeved. Chris and JD, who had managed to slide the screen out of his way, looked at each other and grinned.
"Vin's got the broken ribs," JD said, and Chris agreed.
"Sounds like it. That means Ezra got shot in the shoulder."
"Sure hope they don't have ta cut it out, too. That must a hurt real bad."
"Well, JD, let's just say I'd rather kiss Top Hat Bob than go through that again."
They both were grinning when Buck threw open the door and limped in half pulling and half-supporting Vin.
"Will you stop haulin' me around like I was a sack a grain? We gotta warn folks bout Winston."
"You best quit complainin' 'bout ole Buck's drivin' else I'll tell Nathan who was out cold under a roof and two dead bodies when me and Josiah got there." Vin quit muttering and let Buck limp him over to the stool near Chris's place on the couch they had turned into a makeshift bed.
"Why warn folks about Winston? You seen him?" Chris looked worried all of a sudden. "What about Josiah and Maude?"
Buck looked over and answered one of the questions. "Ole Horace's been busy. Sliced up one of Ainsley's men bout three miles from your shack. Troopers said they'd warn folks."
"Ainsley got Maude, but Josiah an' the Army's right behind them." He took a long look at Chris. "Damn, you look like you been shot, cowboy." Vin grinned at Chris, but the older man could see the pain in his friend's eyes.
Despite his worry Chris tried to keep up the bantering tone Vin and Buck had set. "Like you don't. Looks like a horse drug you from here to the shack."
"Didn't drag me, rolled over and fell on me." Vin turned his head to look at JD. "How you doin' kid? You yellin' when ya did sure saved our bacon."
JD beamed at Vin's compliment. Maybe this wasn't so bad an injury after all even if he couldn't find much less wear his pants right now. His question never got asked as Nathan came through the door directing the troopers who were carrying Ezra on a makeshift stretcher. He was pale but conscious.
"Please do be careful. My attire has already suffered a mortal wound with all this blood. Must you scrape my boots on every wall we pass?"
"He's lucky they don't drop him on his head." Buck, JD, and Vin heard the muttered comment by Chris and smiled. They knew Chris was worried about the gambler as much as he was any of his men. Louder, Chris asked, "You okay, Ezra?"
"Oh, I'm just beside myself at my good fortune. I have managed to lose my mother, I have a hole in my leg that has ruined my pants, and I am looking forward to Mr. Jackson's exploration inside my shoulder to locate the whereabouts of the foreign object that is currently imbedded in it."
"He even complains fancy, don't he?" Ezra managed a less than polite answer for Vin who tried to move but felt a hand on his shoulder. Nathan glowered down at him. He stayed where he was. The Army doctor entered just then, and they set about the task of removing the bullet from Ezra's shoulder. Once the bullet was removed, Nathan began wrapping the bandages while Captain Fellows cleaned the wound on Ezra's leg. The bullet had passed neatly through the fleshy part of his lower left leg. The bullet had entered in exactly the same place as it had Buck's. Dr. Fellows looked at Buck while he finished securing the bandage on Ezra's leg.
"I need you to remove your boots and your pants."
"I ain't in the habit of droppin' my pants for men, Captain. I'll just sit here out of the way."
"You let the doctor clean that hole in yore leg, Buck, else I'll make sure all the ladies in town hear that the bullet went too high and gelded ya." Even an exhausted Ezra smiled at that one when Buck had his boots and pants off in record time.
Nathan was left to fix Vin up. He looked critically over Vin looking for any abrasions as he helped the tracker pull off his coat, his suspenders, and his shirt. He winced at the bruises all over his back and side where he'd hit the ground. There was a particularly large bruise and scraped skin on the outside of his right arm and shoulder.
"Who in the hell threw you off a mountain, boy?" Nathan was happy Vin wasn't wounded on his left side. He had begun to think the tracker was jinxed on that side of his body.
"Weren't no mountain, Nathan. Vin here fell off his horse." Buck was enjoying the slight flush that crept up Vin's neck into his face.
"Actually, Mr. Tanner was fallen on by a horse and did not fall off a horse." Ezra was feeling better now that Nathan had used a little morphine on him. His eyes were drooping, but he needed to know if anyone had heard anything. "Has Josiah sent any word, yet?"
"If we don't hear somethin' by sun up, me an' Buck'll go check it out." Vin's offer was met by protests.
"You can't ride with three broke ribs!" Nathan was incensed.
"Hell, I ain't ridin' anywheres with you and three broke ribs. I'd end up havin' to carry you, and I plumb don't feel like it. I'll go alone." Buck thought that would mollify Nathan. It didn't.
"You ain't goin' nowheres neither!"
"I'll go." Shouts of no met JD's offer. Nathan was ready to have a fit.
Then Chris threw kerosene on the fire. "I'll go in the morning."
"I'll knock you over the head with a two by four you even look at a horse for the next two weeks. I didn't dig that bullet out and stitch you up for you to go out and tear em or get an infection or start bleeding. That goes for the rest of y'all. Ungrateful bunch. I oughta let ya go on out. You'd be crawlin' on your hands and knees hollerin' your fool heads off in less than an hour." He looked up in disgust to see them all smiling at him. He shook his head and laughed. He really should shoot them all, or maybe he'd just hide all their pants from them. That would work. The doctor looked over at Nathan.
"I will be happy to go and check. I promised to check on the gentleman who owns the livery. He took a bullet to the right leg." With that he was gone shaking his head at the antics of the six men. They acted like a bunch of brothers who were happiest when making each other play keep up. He rather envied that boisterous camaraderie being an only child himself.
"Hell, every man in town's gonna be gimpin' round town for weeks. How's a man supposed to impress the ladies when every other man's got a bullet hole in him, too?" Buck's lament was the last thing Ezra remembered as he succumbed to the morphine-induced sleep. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if anyone could help his mother it would be Josiah. He was even more confident that if anyone could come out of this in one piece, it would be his mother. Ezra had no idea that right now his mother was planning on trying to manipulate Horace Winston else he never would have fallen into such a peaceful sleep. As he dozed off, Chris looked sharply at Vin who was trying to get comfortable on the cot they had brought in for him.
"What roof fell on you?" Vin ignored him and started snoring. "Aw hell, you wrecked my shack again, didn't ya?" A pillow aimed at the back of Vin's head got no reply. Chris heard soft laughter coming from Vin's cot. "I should've let the twins have you that first time. Might still." Buck joined Nathan, JD, and Vin laughing this time. Chris snorted and laid his head back on the pillows. The smile on his face said it all, but he wasn't going to tell them that.
Horace Winston was a desperate man. His boiling hatred for Ainsley and his need for bloody satisfaction were forcing him to take too many chances. The need to reunite with his mother and to hear her call him her beloved son as he satisfied her again and again were all combining to force him into making a fatal mistake. He was trying to hold on, but setting up the killing of one of the men by Ainsley had only appeased his blood lust for a short time. When Ainsley had struck the woman who had become the center of his very life, Horace had wanted to rip Ainsley to shreds. However his mother had turned her gaze upon him as if to warn him not to act now.
That he wanted to kill Ainsley for her was enough to satisfy her now. She knew he had planned it for her, and that was almost enough to bring that heady, satisfied feeling that would explode into his mind and leave him reeling in delight. He saw the speculation in her eyes wondering when he would act against Ainsley. Horace Winston decided that this time he would allow his mother to join him in this ecstasy just as she had shown him how to find that same ecstasy by pleasing her. He could still feel the whip marks biting into his tender flesh as she had beaten him until he learned to satisfy her properly. The very thought of it made the urge to blood his kill even more profound. Soon, if he could control his need to kill, she would witness what brought that mind-numbing delight to her son for he would kill Ainsley slowly in front of her. Maybe she would even like to join him. Mother might even want to bathe her golden hair in his blood. Then, there would be no more need for Horace and his mother to struggle against the loneliness her separation from him had caused. Ainsley had taken her from him just as he was trying to take her now. Soon, he would pay for all of it, very soon. It was the only thought that kept Winston's madness in check as they rode for the protection of the mountains.
Ainsley pushed his people hard, and finally they came to a small hunting cabin in the mountains. Maude was exhausted, but she could not show anyone just how dispirited she had become. She felt like her manipulations had borne no fruit after all, for wouldn't the Army have caught up to them by now? She had no way of knowing that Josiah and the colonel were hot on her trail and in fact were just an hour behind them. They would get there at dawn for Maude had been successful in getting Bill to turn against Ainsley. Of the four men she sent, only Bill had decided to actually ride to the Army to help the woman. The others took their money and ran for the border, but Bill had chosen the wrong road and knew it. With three hundred dollars he had a chance of starting out fresh. It was time for him to look to a future that didn't include living by the gun. He took his chances and used Maude's tale and offered to show them the way to Ainsley's hideaway. Josiah was confident that they would get there in time, for Ainsley and his men would be too tired to do anything until morning.
Josiah was right about Ainsley wanting to take his time and think what his next step would be. There were all sorts of possibilities, and they all hinged on Maude Standish. He'd been bewitched by her from the start. When she had refused his offer to become his mistress, he had even succumbed and asked her to marry him. She had laughed at him, showing her contempt. Then, he had resorted to blackmail threatening to call in the sheriff and accuse her of stealing from him. She had acted like she needed time alone to think it over. Thinking that he would soon have her right under his thumb to do with as he pleased, he had left her in his study. Called away to check on a new group of sod busters, he had returned to a room that had been rifled through. Maude was gone and so were his letters and notes detailing his plans to kill the men who supported statehood.
Maude Standish had cost him all his plans and a hell of a lot of money. Ainsley wanted her to suffer, so he had not killed her right away. He wanted her dead, but he couldn't afford to kill her now that he had been seen and identified at Four Corners. He was beginning to distrust his own men having seen four run off when he shot the man who caused his identity to be revealed. He needed time to think, so he had locked Maude in the small room in the back that was built into the mountain. It had no windows and was used for storage. It was also icy cold. Maybe sitting in that bone-numbing cold would teach her respect for the man who held her life in his hands. Ainsley had not seen Winston toss Maude several blankets or candle and matches before the door was shut and locked. Had he known that for every discomfort he visited upon Maude was another nail in his own coffin, he might have just let her go and fled to Mexico with what money his lawyers could salvage. As it was the man who had captured Ainsley's confidence and was standing watch while the other six men slept was the very man who was quietly and systematically plotting the release of the woman he thought his mother and the death of all Ainsley's men.
Maude did not trust the man who had watched her so carefully. His attraction to her she had noticed, and the fact that he wanted to please her could be used to her advantage. However, Maude was no trusting fool. There was something wrong with the man; she could sense it. He was no con artist like her or her son. He wasn't a man running from a painful past or one seeking redemption for sins that weren't really sins at all. He was no man with a need to heal or a young boy full of innocent exuberance growing into a solid and compassionate man. He wasn't a womanizer with more respect for the female population than most women refused to grant to one another. Nor was he a wild card who was polite to women and children but deadly when it came to anyone who preyed upon the week. Fortunately, most of the people Maude had conned over the years were people who were too greedy to stop and think that the shady dealings she and her son offered were ruses to abscond with their money. She had never really preyed upon anyone who didn't deserve to be preyed upon, and she had instilled her high standards into her son. There was simply no profit to be made off regular people. Maybe that was why Vin Tanner accepted both Maude and Ezra as they were. This man bothered her, and she knew deep down she was safer with Ainsley than with him even if she was locked in an icy room with a few blankets and a candle with matches. Someone had better rescue her soon, or she was going to be seriously peeved.
It had been a full half-hour before she had heard anything outside her door. Too tired and cold to sleep she dozed uncomfortably. Then, she heard a movement outside her door, a muffled noise, a thud, and then silence. It was eerily quiet, too quiet. There was a rattling noise of metal scraping on metal. She bent down to look at the keyhole. The key was obscuring her vision. The fools had left the key in the keyhole! Maude stepped back and looked around. What if it was a trap? What if Ainsley was just teasing her with the thought of freedom? She tore at a stack of old papers used for packing. She slid the heavier piece of paper under the door and pulled one of her hairpins from her hair. Working at the keyhole, she managed to dislodge the key and drop it on the paper resting on the floor right under the door. Very gently and carefully she pulled her treasure under the door and into the room with her. It was the key, and she put it to good use.
This was the time to use her derringer. She pulled it from its hiding place and held it firmly in her left hand as she unlocked the door. Something was in her way. She held the gun up and shoved at the door with first both her hands and then her shoulder. The door opened just enough to let her into the short hallway. She stepped in something slick. She didn't need the dawning light to show her it was blood. The gaping hole where once a man's throat had been gave her evidence that she was standing in fresh, warm blood. Bile rose in her throat as she clumsily tried to step around the body, and she kept telling herself that was not steam rising from the blood into the cold air. She nearly slipped on it, but one more step and she was free of it. She gulped a mouthful of cold air and watched as the condensation from her warm breath formed as she exhaled. Something was terribly wrong for it was just too quiet. She rounded the corner on her way to the door praying that her luck held and everyone was asleep or at least hunting the murderer. Still no sounds.
Then she heard a noise like a sigh then a rattle. Right around the corner was a man who was clutching a hole in his chest with one hand and his open throat with the other trying to stop the bleeding. His open, unseeing eyes gave testimony that he had been unsuccessful. She had to walk through more blood. Maude stopped just beyond the river of blood realizing that she had heard the man's last dying breath. She looked around again. There was no one, not a single one of the eight men who had been here. Not the six who had accompanied her here or the two who were waiting here for them. The feeling was worse than creepy and had Maude been made of lesser stuff, she might have fainted away or gone numb with shock. She didn't though, for Maude knew if she was to live, she had to get out of here fast. Maude knew she needed to know what was happening and plan accordingly, so she pushed open the door of the room she thought was Ainsley's. Two more bodies were there, and both had open, gaping wounds in their throats. The larynx had been neatly sliced just like the others so that no sound would alert anyone to their gruesome and silent deaths. Stopping to take a breath as she eased the door shut, she nearly screamed in terror as she heard something behind her and a hand groped her ankle. Jamming her fist into her mouth to ensure silence, she yanked her ankle back and turned aiming her derringer. A fifth man had managed to crawl into the house and collapse at her feet before dying. Maude bolted for the open door then too panicked to care about whomever waited for her outside the house. She did scream this time as one horse ran past her, a man struggling to stay astride while clawing at a knife that protruded from his back. She heard a shout.
"Nooooooooo!!!" and then silence again. There was another terror stricken scream and another that mingled with a maniacal laugh. She recognized the voice. The screamer was Clay Ainsley. Maude refused to acknowledge the bile forcing its way up her throat or the dizziness that clawed at her consciousness. She couldn't afford to be sick now or faint. She couldn't if she was going to live, and live she would. Maude had decided that she knew who the man was and why he had disturbed her so much. She was trapped with a crazed killer, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she didn't get out of here fast, Horace Winston would come after her when he was through with Ainsley.
Maude looked around trying to remember where the horses were and where the screaming had come from. She spotted the man who had tried to ride away lying face down on the ground as the sun began peeking through the darkness. She could make out the silhouette of the horse standing within fifty feet of the body grazing on the lush grass near the opening into this once lovely valley. She lifted her skirts in her hands, the derringer still clutched but forgotten in her left hand. It remained all but invisible as her skirts folded over her hands. A voice behind her froze her in place.
"Going somewhere, Mother?"
'He thought she was his mother? Dear God what have I ever done to deserve this?' Maude prayed; something she hadn't done in more years than she cared to remember. 'I will never con or cheat, okay I lied,' she ended her prayer abruptly. Oh dear God help me!' was her silent litany. Please!' Maude wasn't one to make promises she knew she couldn't keep.
She turned slowly and forced herself not to flinch or stare or scream or turn around and run. Maude opened her mouth to speak continuing to ask God to spare her life. Then she remembered that he had given her the very talents she needed now to save herself. She forced herself to act naturally like a concerned parent. God would help her if she would only help herself. Maude knew that for a fact.
"Oh my goodness! You nearly frightened me to death! Where were you? All those men are dead, Horace!" 'Please let me get this right!' Maude didn't know whether to act frightened or angry or concerned. She had no idea how to play this maniac, but she wasn't going to end up like those men.
"I did it for you, Mother. Are you pleased?" Horace reached out a blood-covered hand. Maude could smell the blood on him, and once more nausea threatened to have its way with her. She forced her face to remain as it had been. As long as he wanted to please her, she had a chance. "They hurt you. It was very satisfying punishing them for hurting you." Horace sounded like a cross between a little boy eager for his mother's approval and a man demanding that she applaud his killing. He took her hand in his and began to drag her towards the barn. "Wait till you see what I have for you." He turned eager eyes upon her. "You can watch and then bathe in his blood if you want."
Maude froze once more and refused to walk further. Horace looked confused then angry. "Don't you want to come and look at your present, Mother? I did it all for you!"
"Of course I want to see my present, son." Maude cupped her now bloody hand around his cheek and patted him gently. She tried to ignore the blood splattered on his face and clothes. "I just can't run across this ground with just one shoe on." She looked down at her blood soaked shoe. She had lost one somewhere, but she couldn't remember where right now.
Horace immediately looked stricken. "I'm so sorry, Mother, but I couldn't kill him then. They might have hurt you." Horace's voice took on a menacing tone that scared the living hell out of Maude. "He wishes he never hurt you, Mother. I taught him like you used to teach me."
Maude didn't want to know what kind of animal had raised a monster like this. No, she was insulting all animals by calling the mother of this thing an animal. Mrs. Winston must have been every bit the monster that her son was. "What have you done, Horace?" Maude needed time to think. She needed a regiment to save her from this, this animal. There she went again comparing this thing to a poor, dumb beast. How the hell did she get herself into these things? She did it by trying to do a good deed, by trying to see justice done. For what, to get her throat sliced open by someone who thought she was his mother? That was it; she was never going to do an honest thing again in her life. Anger surfaced in Horace's face as he looked down, and Maude remembered the gun she had hidden among the folds of her dress, her hand wrapped round it so fiercely that she was afraid she had lost circulation in her fingers.
"What have you got there, Mother?" Horace squinted looking closely at Maude.
Damn!' He had spotted her gun. Maude had no choice but to offer it to Horace who was still looking at her speculatively. "Oh, I forgot all about this. I never have used it, but I thought you might be in danger. I had to protect my loving son." She didn't want him to take it from her outstretched hand, so she made an elaborate gesture of putting it in her pocket. "Since you're here to take care of me, I can put it away." She gave him her most brilliant smile and added confidentially, "Men rarely think a woman would carry something with which to protect herself."
Her ruse must have worked because Horace returned her smile. "You were always the smartest person I ever met. Come along, Mother. Come and see your present." He offered his arm to her and led her leisurely to the barn.
Maude walked with trepidation towards the barn with Horace. She had managed to keep her gun. She would make a point to go to church and leave a large donation if God continued to help her get herself out of this mess. Even knowing what Horace was capable of after seeing his victims, she still wasn't prepared for the sight of Clay Ainsley tied spread eagle at the opening of one of the stalls. There were blood and knife wounds all over him, but he was still alive. His terror stricken eyes flung open as soon as he heard them approach. He didn't even recognize Maude, his whole attention concentrated on the source of his pain and horror. He started babbling in fright as Horace picked up his knife and approached him. Winston had totally forgotten about Maude as he went to complete his task. His blood lust had been satisfied, and now he was just indulging himself. He didn't even feel the bullet enter him. He felt a burning sensation on his hand and watched in wonder as the knife fell from his hand that was now pouring forth his own blood. He stared at it mystified as he touched the hole that had appeared in his hand. He turned slowly and looked at Maude in wonder. He couldn't believe she had shot him. Then, he understood. She didn't want him to have all the fun, and she was punishing him for enjoying himself without her. He bent over and picked the knife up with his other hand.
Maude couldn't believe it. The fool was grinning at her and offering her the knife. He couldn't possibly think she wanted a turn, could he? Horace spoke to her.
"Here, Mother. I'm so sorry I forgot your turn." His voice was that of a little boy wanting to appease an angry parent. Maude had never killed anyone in her life, but she had to stop Horace Winston. As much as she hated Clay Ainsley and worried that he had killed her son, no one, not even an animal deserved to be slaughtered like this. She pointed the gun at the biggest possible target on Winston and pulled the trigger again. She prayed she had hit something vital, and that he would die quickly. Blood blossomed on his midsection. However, Horace Winston just gave her a puzzled look like he didn't understand what he had done to displease her. Then, as his blood dripped down and mingled with Ainsley's, he turned back to continue his work. He was in pure ecstasy; his pain mingled with his pleasure as he started to raise the knife with his uninjured hand. Ainsley started screaming before the blade even touched him.
Maude couldn't believe it. She had shot him twice, and it hadn't even slowed him down! He was going to continue carving Ainsley like a turkey if she didn't do something to stop him. Bullets didn't stop him. She looked around desperately for something or somebody that would. She heard Ainsley's terrified scream of anguish as Horace must have made another cut. Then she spotted it. There was a plank of wood on the ground. Tucking her empty derringer into her pocket she picked it up. It was heavy, and she prayed it wasn't so heavy that she couldn't swing it. It wasn't.
As Horace raised his knife again, Maude kicked off her remaining shoe and ran toward him with the upraised board. She heard the sickening thwack as she swung the board and connected with Horace's face as he turned towards her. He fell at her feet, and she jumped back in fear. When he didn't move she gingerly picked up the knife and walked towards Ainsley. She didn't take her eyes off the body on the floor and didn't check to see if he was alive, but she began speaking quietly to the babbling man. He was in bad shape, but Maude couldn't leave him like that. He collapsed at her feet as she cut the ropes that had held him helplessly displayed for Winston's insanity. Seeing a horse blanket on the ground, she picked it up and covered Ainsley. She couldn't lift him to move him, so she did the only thing she could. She ran outside the barn and spotted the horse from earlier that had moved closer to the barn. She kept saying, "Thank you, God," over and over as she limped toward the animal. It was a docile thing and let her approach.
It started to shy away as it finally got a whiff of the blood covering her. She grabbed at the reins and held on tight just before it tried to turn and run away from her. She mounted the horse as best she could, since her feet did not reach the stirrups. She cursed the fact that all these men had much longer legs than she did even though she was not a petite woman. Finally seated in the saddle, she kicked the horse in the sides with her bare feet and galloped toward the entrance to this isolated spot.
Maude promised God that she would make her donation as soon as she had some ready cash even if she had to cheat to win it at the gaming tables when she saw the blue coats riding towards her in the dawning light. She could have wept with happiness when she spotted Josiah. She didn't even acknowledge the colonel or his men as she fell into the preacher's arms and proceeded to do what she had not done since this ordeal had started. She burst into a torrent of tears babbling first about how she had caused the deaths of her son and Vin and now Ainsley and all about a crazed killer. She would have fallen into hysterics if Josiah's strong arms had not surrounded her like a protecting blanket and his soothing voice had not penetrated through the depths of her exhaustion and sheer terror. Finally she gulped back a sob, took a deep steadying breath, and pierced Josiah with tear stained eyes that demanded he tell her again exactly what she wanted to hear.
"Ezra's alive, Maude. He's gonna be fine and so are you." She didn't say much more but hugged him around the neck so tight he thought he might pass out for lack of breathing. Just as he thought it was a nice way to go, she dropped her hands and sat back.
"They're all dead except Ainsley!" She blurted it out just as Josiah and Colonel Rickman asked if she was all right. "I will be, but Ainsley won't if you don't go and help him now." As Josiah urged his horse forward Maude protested. "We can't. I mean I can't. I mean we have to be very careful. Horace Winston killed six men, maybe seven now, back there."
That brought every man in hearing distance up short. Bill, riding next to the big preacher was relieved the woman was all right, and he realized she had probably saved his life by conning him into running after the Army. They had all seen what Winston had done to one man, but how had he managed to kill seven men in such a short time? The woman was clearly hysterical. Maude frowned when she heard the young captain mention that very thing.
"I said he killed them. Ainsley was still alive when I left to get help." Her dead serious tone had an immediate effect as all the men listened. For once Maude didn't care about how many of her male audience she could charm. As they made their way quickly back the way she had come, she explained everything she could. Josiah knew by her monotone voice that she had witnessed horrible things no human should have had to, and she was still in the game. Her sharp eyes and wit were still functioning at an above average rate. "He must have gotten most of them while they were sleeping. He slit their throats. I was locked in a back room with one candle and some matches. He thought, he thought," Maude dug her fingers into Josiah's forearms that he had wrapped around her for support and comfort. She swallowed finally, and then the words just tumbled out faster and faster. She couldn't seem to help herself. "That thing thought I was his mother. He called me his mother." She shuddered and was thankful for Josiah's supporting arms. "He killed the guard, and I found the key was stuck in the keyhole. I don't know if it was left there by accident or if Winston put it there. I found the first body in front of the door. I had to move it with the door to get out." They entered the hidden valley and stopped for a moment while Maude caught her breath and drank from the canteen Josiah magically produced from out of thin air. Maude took a long drink. It was as good as any champagne she had ever tasted.
"There was another dead one in the hallway, two in one room where he must have killed them in their sleep, and one crawled into the house and died at my feet." They passed the dead body on the ground. Two men dropped out to collect the body. The captain saluted the silent command of his colonel and sent a burial detail to prepare the graves. Maude continued.
"I tried to get away, but he caught me." Very quietly, Josiah asked if it was Ainsley who had caught her.
"Winston, he caught me right there." She pointed to the spot recognizing it for the first time. "He made me go into the barn to watch him kill Ainsley. He, he wanted me to watch and then touch him." Maude watched as Josiah took his handkerchief and poured water on it. He wiped the blood from her hands as her tears had washed it from her face. She had no idea that as she spoke of her ordeal, large tears streaked a path down her face. The colonel handed Josiah a wet cloth, and the preacher gently wiped the tears away. Four men with rifles in hand went carefully into the barn as she continued. Maude caught Josiah's hand thinking what she said next would make him think she was as bad as Horace Winston.
"I shot him, twice, but he wouldn't die. Then, he started on Ainsley again and I had to do something. I hit him across the face with a board, and I cut Ainsley down. Then, I ran."
The colonel spoke for the first time the admiration clear in his voice. "Ma'am, you did what needed to be done. I doubt if I would have had the fortitude to have dealt with that monster as well as you." Josiah added his agreement and Maude relaxed against him.
"It's all right, Maude. We'll take care of everything. You just rest."
Maude was ready to put her head on Josiah's big shoulder when one of the troopers came rushing out of the barn.
"Sir, Colonel Rickman! Ainsley's dead, sir, and there ain't no sign of that Winston fella. There's only a trail of blood out the back towards the stream."
Maude fainted.
Continued in Part Four
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