Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
Authors Note: This story is set between One Day out West and Working Girls.
The insistent rapping on the door of his room at the lodging house forced one question out of Chris Larabee when he was finally induced from his drunk induced slumber the next morning. Who was it in Four Corners that was in possession of such a monumental death wish? The sound had exploded into his consciousness like the discharge of dynamite, with such potency that his ears were ringing. It had not occurred to him that the percussive nature of the sound was probably amplified by the bottle of whiskey he had shared his bed with the night before. His mouth tasted bad and his ears and brain ached from the almost never-ending noise of knuckles against wood. Chris' second thought after identifying the cause of his pain was whether or not he ought to be answering the door with or without his gun because he sure as hell was going to shoot somebody for waking him up like this.
Cursing loudly as he staggered out of bed, Chris was barely able to process being awake let alone the racket that was coming from his door that was playing havoc with his temperament as well as the raging headache that had made itself felt as soon as he was conscious. Reaching for the gun belt slung across the corner of the bedpost, Chris slipped fumbled with the buckle as he fastened it around his hips. Fortunately, he had fallen asleep with his pants on so he did not have to deal with trying to work out which leg went in first into the garment with his present state of mind. Barefoot, he padded towards the doorway, his footsteps clumsy and loud, eliminating all traces of his usually stealth approach.
Pulling the door open (almost off its hinges as a matter of fact) Chris was confronted with a blinding glare of light from the afternoon sun. It filtered into the confines of his dark room, almost surgical in its precision and burning his retinas all the way to the back of his skull. For a few seconds, the gunslinger was bombarded with a kaleidoscope of shapes and dark spots as his vision hastily adjusted for the sudden flood of (morning or afternoon?) light. When his eye sight did return to something reasonably clear, Chris wished it had not since the kaleidoscope of color had contracted into the shape of Mary Travis, standing at his doorway, wearing impatience across her face.
He was not in the mood for this.
The good widow Travis tilted her head forward, sniffed the air in his general location and stepped back again, eying him critically. "You're drunk." It was not so much of a statement as it was an accusation.
"No hung over," Chris retorted crisply, his voice little more than a growl when it escaped him. "Drunk was a few hours ago. What do you want?"
It was at this point that Chris noted that Vin was standing further along the corridor, looking not only uncomfortable but also somewhat apologetic that he could not keep the woman from seeking Chris out. Obviously, Vin had attempted to 'talk' to the lady about accepting some protection in the wake of Lucas James' hanging. In particular, the possible repercussions if Stuart James chose to avenge his dead nephew by striking out at those responsible. Chris had avoided talking to Mary himself because he knew the arguments she would throw at him in order to keep herself from falling under their protection and he had relinquished the duty to Vin because he knew that he would have no patience for anything she had to say. Unfortunately, Chris should have known better than to leave this in Vin's hands. As much as he relied upon the tracker to watch his back, the fact was Vin was lousy around women. It was easy to forget how much younger than he Vin was despite their deepening friendship, The tracker's experiences with women were too scant for him to be able to deal with someone like Mary.
It was like sending a rabbit to deal with a grizzly.
Mary wasted no time telling him once the question was asked of her, though she did not mind admitting she did not like the manner in which it was put forward. "Mr. Tanner tells me that I am to be under guard."
Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. What he needed was a good dose of the proverbial 'hair of the dog' to get through this encounter but since that was not going to happen until after he got rid of Mary, he would have to simply put up with her. Fortunately, he was capable of making any discussion between them end as quickly as possible. If there was one thing good about being the bad element, it was being able to send decent folk scurrying when one was not in the mood to deal with them. In Mary's case, it was a godsend.
"That's right," he drawled. "You're the closest thing the Judge has to family in these parts. After what happened to Lucas, James might try to return the favor in kind." He hoped making his point so bluntly would scare some sense into the woman.
Her expression hardened and she met his gaze with equally set eyes. "I am able to take care of myself enough to ensure I do not need babysitting, Mr. Larabee. I seriously doubt that James can enter this town without giving his presence away. In any case, two of your men looking over my shoulder seems a rather wasteful use of resources."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Chris retorted, starting to turn back into his room, since as far as he was concerned the discussion was over.
"Keep an eye on her Vin," He remarked in a more civilized tone, a distinction that did not escape Mary.
Vin glanced at the widow and saw that despite Chris' efforts to withdraw, there was no way Mary was allowing this to end with that. In fact, he saw her starting to get very mad and he wondered this was not the time to take a step back and let the duo kill each other. Perhaps he might come back once the carnage was done.
"You are hardly in a position to be the judge of anything!" She snapped when his back was turned.
Chris paused and craned his neck enough to show that he had heard her. "What does that mean?"
"It means," she said smoldering with fury at being told what to do as if she were a child. "That your judgement is hardly reliable when you reek of alcohol. Orin is not paying you to be a drunk. He is paying you to protect this town."
Sweet Christ on a crutch, Vin Tanner thought in disbelief as he heard her say those words.
However, that faded quickly enough when he saw Chris stiffening in the wake of her stinging words. The gunslinger turned around slowly, his jaw tightening with a fury equal to or perhaps even greater than the one that had inspired her to fling such words at him without thought. Chris was turning around to face her and when he did, the stare he aimed in Mary's direction was merciless. Vin wondered if he ought to intervene but knew that it would not be well appreciated by either Chris or Mary and so he held back, watching the situation as it transpired, preparing to step in if required. He saw Mary's resolve waver some and guessed that she had come to the realization that she had gone too far and would have to answer for it.
Mary was regretting her words and not because of his glacial expression or the cold she could feel emanating from his hard stare, almost like a physical sensation. His glare raked across her skin and suddenly more aware of his infamous reputation than she had ever been before. She wondered what she was thinking, provoking this obviously dangerous man who often ended his fights before they even had a chance to begin, by merely treating his enemies to that fearsome glare. Mary reminded herself that she knew nothing of him really and provoking him with such incendiary words was dancing with folly. She had only to cast a sidelong glance at Vin and see the alarm on the tracker's face to know that this was the unbidden truth she had blinded herself from because the town needed him so desperately.
"Now you listen to me, Mrs. Travis," Chris took a step forward and Mary found herself taking step back until her back was pressed against the wall, trapped.
Chris paused near enough to ensure she could not get past her and he had no intention of allowing her to do so until she had listened to what he to say, whether or not she liked it. He placed his hand on her chin and raised it gently, capturing her dove like eyes in his before he spoke, the way one might speak to a lover. "I don't give a flying rat ass whether or not you think I reek of alcohol as you put it. Just because I decided to stick around does not give you any goddamn right to tell me what you think I should be doing. I don't give a damn whether you're Travis' daughter in law or not. Out of respect to the Judge, I'm keeping an eye on you because I know it will hurt him to see you strung up by your neck the way Lucas was. Vin and Nathan will be around and you will offer them every cooperation or I swear I'll lock you up in the jailhouse until I'm sure its safe. Do we understand each other?"
Mary swallowed hard, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. Her cheeks flushed red with anger and her lips thinned with humiliation because she only had to look into those eyes to know that he would do as he threatened, just to show her he could. "Yes," she whispered, her eyes dropping, wanting to hide the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. "I understand perfectly."
"Good," Chris stepped back, satisfied his point had been made clearly enough and averted his gaze from the trembling Mrs. Travis to Vin once more "Like I said, keep an eye on her."
Vin did not at all approve of the manner in which Chris had spoken to Mary but he suspected that part of Chris' harshness had to do with the fact that in this matter he was going to be obeyed one way or another. Whether or not he might want to admit it, the gunslinger did have some feeling for Mrs. Travis and allowing her to risk her life because of stubbornness was something he was not about to do. If he had to be brutal in order for her to take his offer of protection seriously then so be it. Vin knew enough about Chris now to understand that Chris did not waste time with words when actions was necessary. He demanded it of the men who rode with him and the people who looked to him for safety.
"Sure Chris," Vin nodded, revealing nothing in the brief moment of eye contact.
With that Chris returned to his room, slamming the door shut on both of them.
Orin Travis was not at all happy to leave town with the prospect that Mary might be in danger but after much convincing, the Judge decided that he could rely on the seven peacekeeper to ensure that his daughter in law remain safe. The judge was certain at the very least, Chris would ensure that Mary did not place herself in an unnecessary jeopardy. The old man was perfectly aware of how headstrong his daughter in law could be and knew it would take someone just as stubborn to see to it that Mary did not behave recklessly in her efforts to stand up for herself. As much as Orin treasured Mary, he knew that she was capable of taking foolish risks just to prove it. Fortunately, Chris Larabee did not appear to be a man who would allow Mary that much freedom, particularly if her life was in danger.
When Orin finally departed, he did so with Josiah and Ezra in his company. Although the Judge was leaving Four Corners on the stage, Chris saw no reason why he, Josiah and Ezra could not journey part of the way to ensure that no one was lying in wait to ambush the Judge. It was a tense journey most of the way with Josiah acting as intermediary between Chris and Ezra. The preacher wished a different complement had been chosen to accompany the stage since the mix of Chris Larabee and Ezra Standish was like putting dynamite and fire together, although he was had pressed to say which was which. Outwardly, Ezra did not display any redeeming features. He was by nature a creature whose stock and trade was deception but there were occasions where something else surfaced long enough for Josiah to know that there was a human being under that slick exterior.
Unfortunately that side of the gambler made its appearance rarely and almost never in front of Chris Larabee whom Josiah was certain had already made up his mind about Ezra. Still Josiah could not understand why Ezra was allowed to remain in the group if Chris thought him to be so unredeemable. Whatever his reasons for keeping Ezra Standish a member of the seven, it was clear that the two men were as different as night and day and their personalities reflected this contrast most prolifically particularly when they were in close proximity. Josiah wondered if Chris merely kept Ezra in their company to ensure the gambler would not return to his conman habits if he were not. Certainly Chris did not regard Ezra with the friendship that he offered the others and his manner towards the man was glacial to say the least.
In the distance, the stagecoach continued its way to Eagle Bend, having finally satisfied Chris' confidence that it could manage the trip without incident. They were a good half a day's journey away from Four Corners and so far there was no evidence of the vengeance that they were certain Stuart James would carry out on Judge Travis for the death of his nephew Lucas. Not knowing for certain in what form this vengeance bothered Chris to no end. Since taking on the role as one of the town's unofficial lawmen, Chris had attempted to foresee any danger and deal with it before it culminated into something that would see innocent people dead and the town being shot up again. The community in general was anxious enough about their presence without there being regular gunfights in the street to add to that paranoia. Chris took his responsibilities seriously even though he knew that if he had to leave Four Corners behind tomorrow, he would not exactly be broken up about it. He might miss the men he had rode with but nothing more.
Overhead, the sun was high in the sky and the heat was indicative of a merciless New Mexican summer, a fact that Ezra seemed to point out at least once every ten minutes. The southerner was not hiding his disdain at having to endure the noon day sun on what had turn out to be a pointless exercise since it appeared James was nowhere in sight and the Judge was on his way to Eagle Bend without incident. Josiah had come to the conclusion that Ezra liked to talk, not merely to hear himself speak but also to pass the time. His topic of conversation on this occasion was to complain about the insufferable weather and the game he could be playing in the nice cool shade of a saloon somewhere. Chris had barely said three words on this particular journey and Josiah guessed it might have something to do with the fact Chris had disappeared for a private drinking session the night before and was probably suffering the consequences of it.
Ezra's prattling in the background had become a drone the two men had almost started to ignore, allowing the sound to be absorbed into the skin rather than being listened to. Fortunately, the gambler came to the realization that he was complaining excessively and was reaching the limits of his companion's temper. Deciding that for his own safety a change of subject was in order; he began a 'faithful' retelling of some of his adventures prior to arriving in Four Corners. After awhile, Josiah found himself listening intently to Ezra despite himself and drawing a good deal of amusement from the gambler's stories. Chris on the other hand, made no offerings to the conversation, sitting silently in the saddle as they continued onward.
"So what did you do in Laramie that made Travis remember you so well?" Josiah asked as the sun began to disappear into the clouds behind them.
"Oh it was nothing too illegal," Ezra shrugged, supposing that it was only a matter of time before someone brought that up. He saw no reason lie about it since they all knew what he was before he had joined up with them and their opinion of him could not get any lower than it was already.
"I admire your ability to make such a measured judgement," Josiah remarked with a little smile. If anything, Ezra could be entertaining.
"Thank you," Ezra smiled, flashing a gold tooth in his direction. "I prefer to think of it as being an eternal optimist."
"That's one way of putting it," Josiah remarked, raising a brow. "So what did you do?"
"Well it was a lucrative little scheme concocted by my dear...." Ezra started to say when he paused and collected his thoughts, brushing away what he was going to say and issuing the version he preferred using instead, "by a dear friend. He had this idea of performing a little sleight of hand for the benefit of a local jeweler."
"You mean cheating." Chris looked up from under the brim of his hat and retorted.
The word stung despite Ezra's efforts to hide it but as always, the gambler was careful not to show how he really felt about Chris statement and continued speaking as if nothing was wrong. "Now if you're going to heckle the performance Mr. Larabee, I cannot continue."
Chris snorted and faced front, an indication that he was not interested enough to make further comment, thus allowing Ezra to continue.
"As I was saying," Ezra faced Josiah again. "My partner entered the establishment and proceeded to reveal a tidy sum of cash for the purchase of this rather valuable bauble, I believe it was necklace. The store owner upon receiving the tidy sum I believe it was 500 hundred dollars, produce the necklace and was about to complete the transaction when I entered the room and proceeded to introduce myself as a servant of the law."
"You pretended to be a lawman?" Josiah asked, his face furrowing with disapproval.
"I have even played a Jewish Rabbi and stop interrupting, I am coming to the best part of my tale." Ezra said reproachfully, like an unhappy magician to a particularly inquisitive child.
"Sorry," Josiah remarked. "Please continue. I wait with abated breath."
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Ezra pointed out.
"I'm tall enough not to care," Josiah retorted smoothly, drawing a chuckle from the gambler who continued speaking with that quip served back at him so expertly.
"Well I was superb in my performance as a purveyor of justice and convinced the man that the monies he was about to be paid with was actually counterfeit notes, a suggestion which shocked him to no end I can assure you. I offered to take my partner into custody and the jeweler was most grateful for that little task and was more than happy to turn over both money and the necklace to me for evidence in the forthcoming trial. I even wrote him a receipt."
Josiah broke into a soft rumble of laughter as Ezra grinned triumphantly. "So you got away with both?"
"Well," Ezra frowned darkly. "I managed to elude justice for a time but my partners chose to abscond with our earnings at first opportunity. Leaving me to face the music so to speak while she.... I mean he returned to St Louis."
"This partner of yours wouldn't happened to be a woman would it?" Chris looked over his shoulder with a faint smile, that revealed that he had been listening to the tale and had been amuse by it as much as Josiah.
Ezra let out a sigh. "I see it will be difficult to keep anything out of your purview Mr. Larabee."
"And don't you ever forget it either," Chris replied, warming a little to the gambler but not enough to figure him out completely just yet.
"She have a name?" Josiah inquired.
"Not that I care to remember," Ezra answered, having no wish to open that particular can of worms with anyone, least of all those in present. "Nevertheless, she was one of the craftiest members of her sex that I have had the misfortune to encounter."
"So you got done in Fort Laramie because of a woman?" Chris stared at him. "Never figured you for having a weak spot for the opposite sex Ezra."
"Well I am not made of stone Mr. Larabee," Ezra replied, knowing his situation in Fort Laramie was nowhere that simple but he was not going to explain to the gunslinger why. "After all, I think its safe to say we've all fallen prey to a beautiful face at some point in our lives."
"Not me," Josiah retorted. "My biggest concern these past few months is trying to decide whether or not it is time for me to meet my God."
"You are a complex man aren't you?" Ezra remarked. "However, I did not mean in the recent past."
"A man of the cloth isn't likely to make those kinds of mistake Ezra," Chris pointed out.
"Alright then," Ezra turned to him. "What about you?"
"We're not talking about me." Chris said with just enough edge in his voice for Ezra to understand that it was not a subject he was going to discuss in an open forum.
Ezra knew enough about Chris' history to not push that particular point and sought to recoup the momentum of the conversation by moving towards another subject. "I suppose there is not much chance of the opposite sex being much of a distraction in Four Corners, Mr.Wilmington's record not withstanding. Although Mrs. Travis is a lovely morsel indeed, I am rather surprised she isn't inundated with suitors. If the lady were not so respectable, I would not mind calling on her myself."
"She's more trouble than she's worth," Chris found himself saying. "And you got enough of that on your own as it is."
"Mrs Travis is perfectly charming and very intelligent," Ezra retorted, never shying from coming to the aid of a lady, whether or not she was present or aware she was in need of assistance. "In a geographical location where the most valuable commodity out here other than livestock is members of the opposite sex, I would think that Mrs. Travis would never be in need for company. Besides, never let it be said that I am adverse to immersing myself in a little trouble occasionally."
"She is a fine woman," Josiah remarked. "A woman like that tends to change a man."
Chris said nothing, disliking the whole notion of Mary and Ezra in each other's company. He was right of course. In the territory, men outnumbered women one to twenty and someone like Mary should have been in no small need of gentleman callers. However, just thinking about Mary having anyone call for her made Chris uncomfortable and he forced his mind to stop thinking of it in any depth since there were more important things concerning Mrs. Travis at this time.
"Let's just keep her alive for the moment." He said gruffly after awhile.
"Well James was meant to be in town today to claim Lucas' body," Josiah announced quietly. "One of his men rode into town last night and told the undertake to get it ready for moving."
"I suppose Mr. James would want to inter his nephew on the family spread." Ezra suggested.
"I would say so." Josiah responded. If he had family, he supposed he would want the same, no matter how they had ended their lives. "Maybe he's calm down."
"He won't," Chris answered shortly, his eyes facing front into the distant horizon at something only he could see. "He's just taking care of business."
Josiah's eyes moved towards Chris' direction. "Business?"
Ezra who was aware of Chris' history knew precisely what Chris referred to and chose to spare the gunslinger of explaining to Josiah by stepping in first. "He is carrying out his familial obligations to Lucas first. Men like James are methodical, they will take care of their own, shunting aside vengeance to deal with immediate concerns. Once Lucas is in the ground, then and only then will he address the idea of vengeance."
"So Mary is probably safe tonight." Josiah remarked.
"As safe as she can be," Chris shrugged. "But James isn't the kind to get his hands dirty. He'll come after her but not in a way that will incriminate him. Ezra's right about that."
"Twice in as many days," the gambler muttered under his breath. "Does that mean that I will have to forgo my evening to relieve Messrs. Tanner, Dunne and Jackson from guarding the fair widow?"
"They have been at it all day," Josiah pointed out. "Considering how happy she was about someone guarding her, they probably need the break."
"I'll do it." Chris said sharply, giving Ezra a look.
Ezra stared at the dark glint in Chris' eyes and wondered what he had done to garner such a venomous stare. His suggestion was meant to be a show of consideration for his friends not inspire the annoyance of his leader. For a moment, he was puzzled until he saw Josiah attempting to suppress a little smile that Chris was oblivious too. Ezra blinked in realization and wondered if he was monumentally blind for not seeing the obvious signs that he was wandering into forbidden territory.
"I suppose you think me incapable of keeping the widow under guard," Ezra insisted, wanting to confirm his suspicion.
"I can handle her, you can't." Chris retorted stiffly. "Knowing Mary, she'll run rings around your southern chivalry."
"If you say so," Ezra replied, valuing his life enough to not wishing to be caught between Chris and Mary, especially when the gunslinger's feelings for the lovely woman was not as glacial as he liked everyone to believe. Josiah's expression when Ezra glanced his way told him without a doubt that he was on the right track.
"Trust me," Chris responded. "I'm not looking forward to it."
For some reason, neither of them believed him.
James did not meet anyone's eyes as he rode through town, not even the lawmen that had aided the Judge in the death of his nephew. When he made his way through the main street, he kept his eyes facing forward, giving no one the benefit of his gaze. The town of Four Corners had never meant anything to him and after what had happened to Lucas, he dared say he hated the place. He did not hate the lawman that had made it possible for that Judge to hang Lucas. How could he hate them when they were like mongrel dogs acting in accordance to their nature? They were being paid to do what they did best and he could not hate them. He wanted them gone and was willing to do anything to see that happened but hate was an emotion he did not think them important enough to bestow upon.
Judge Orin Travis he did hate. He hated the man with a rage that knew no boundaries. He wanted the man to suffer as he had, to watch someone he cared about strung up by the neck like a dog and be forced to let him or her die. He wanted Travis to feel that pain as he had felt it. When he was done with Lucas today, when James had seen to it that the boy be laid to rest in a manner befitting one of his kin, then he would turn his attention to making Travis understand that agony. He had already made inquiries to that effect because he would not make the mistake of soiling his hands with such bloody work. He wanted to be able to enjoy Travis pain as the Judge twisted and turned like a worm on a hook. He wanted to do it and have Travis know that he was untouchable. Only that would satisfy his vengeance, nothing more.
He hated Travis and he hated this town. The town that his ranch and others like it had given life to. The people of Four Corners owed their lives in this community to him. Without him, there would be no town and yet they had forgotten their place, their allegiance to him because Travis had walked into town waving a rulebook and given them the audacity to sit in judgement over Lucas and condemn him to hang. Twelve men had found his nephew guilty but as far as James was concerned, they were all equally guilty of murdering Lucas. He did not know how he would destroy Four Corners but he would, he swore it when he had learnt that Lucas was dead. The town could wait however. Right now, James was interested in the main protagonist in the death of his nephew. Once Travis was dealt with then he would take care of the town.
Travis, like Four Corners was marked.
Vin Tanner allowed JD and Nathan to keep watch on Mary when Stuart James rode into town that afternoon to retrieve his nephew's body. Mary was working at the Clarion News and though he suspected that she might be tempted to appear on the street when James arrived in Four Corners, Vin had instructed Nathan and JD to ensure she did not. Everyone else seemed to be on the street when the rancher moved through the main street, flanked on either side by his men as he headed towards the funeral home. People tried not to stare as he rode past them on the street but there was no doubt he commanded the town's undivided attention. Buck and Vin did not mask their deep scrutiny of the rancher and his men, making themselves visible on the street. They maintained their observation from under the awning of their favorite saloon, seeing to it that James noted their presence and did not attempt anything even though Vin was certain that the rancher was only here to collect Lucas' body. He would avenge himself upon them eventually but Vin did not believe that of him today.
"You think there will be trouble?" Vin asked Buck as they watched the rancher and his entourage ride towards the funeral home.
"Probably not," Buck offered a guess. "I think he'll be more interested in burying his dead instead of picking any fights."
"I'm glad the Judge ain't here," Vin remarked as they both continued to keep their eyes fixed on James. The rancher was almost to his destination now and the town's fascination with watching him make that journey dwindled somewhat as they returned to their own business, retreating insides stores and disappearing from windows.
"Travis is a smart man," Buck remarked. "Probably figured he's being gone wouldn't cause a ruckus when James came to get the body."
"I suppose," Vin muttered, his hand still grazing the butt of his mare's leg in anticipation of trouble. "I guess Chris was right about that."
"So what else is new?" Buck said crisply.
Vin had not known Buck that long but he knew the man was very seldom perturbed about anything. Buck was easily one of the most affable people Vin had ever known. Sometimes the man's gregarious nature and general love of life could overwhelm Vin who was so reserve and solitary but it was impossible not to like Buck for that very thing. Indeed other than himself, Buck was the only other person who did not judge Ezra harshly and while Chris' strength bound the seven together, it was Buck who provided its heart. Vin admired that and he respected Buck's ability to feel so much and lack of fear at showing it. Therefore it surprised Vin somewhat when he heard the brusque tone in the ladies man's voice.
"Something up with you and Chris?" Vin asked Buck, his gaze shifting towards the older man in a sidelong glance. He was still watching James closely but was now alternating that observation by periodic glimpses in Buck's direction.
"There's nothing up with me and Chris." Buck said sharply and there it was in his voice again, an unusual harshness that was felt alien in Buck's tone.
"Doesn't sound like it," Vin pointed out.
"Well what would you know junior?" Buck declared. "Just because you and Chris are plenty close now, doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about him."
Stupid! Vin swore at himself inwardly. Was Buck jealous of his friendship with Chris? He supposed it was possible since he and Chris had become almost inseparable since their first encounter. Buck had been Chris' friend for more years than he could count and he supposed that it might be possible that Buck would have some issues about their friendship. "I didn't mean to say that I know everything about Chris, Buck." Vin tried to regain some ground. "I mean you've known him longer."
"And you think that means anything?" Buck declared. "It means nothing. I'm no one to him, just some guy he used to know."
"That ain't true," Vin quickly spoke up. "When we hooked up to go to the Seminoles, you were the first one he thought of."
"Maybe," Buck stared at him and let out what had been building up inside him for some time now. Inwardly, he knew he was being unfair taking it out on Vin but the truth was Chris would never stick around long enough to hear what he had to say. "But how long was he in town before he decided to look me up? I was there the night his son was born; I stood up with him at his wedding. Hell, I helped him put Sarah and Adam into ground that terrible night and still, it took a job to get him to come find me."
"I'm sorry," Vin found himself saying even though he knew that Buck wasn't angry with him really, just hurt. Besides, if he were in Buck's place, he would be just as angry. However, his loyalty to Chris compelled him to make some attempt to defend the gunslinger in his absence. "Maybe he's got his reasons. I don't think he means anything by it."
It was a lame excuse and he knew it but this was one subject that he never discussed with Chris because he knew that Chris could not bring himself to talk about it with anyone. Personally talking about it would do the man a world of good but Chris was not the kind who could unburden himself about matters so close to the heart. Unfortunately, his silence and his intense dislike for anyone who attempted to bring the subject up with him meant that Vin could not even tell him that. He guessed that part of the reason that Chris held Buck at arm's length had to do with his discomfiture at having Buck see him at his most vulnerable. Some men found that hard to deal with and for Chris in particular, who guarded his inner most feelings with fierce privacy, that much exposure was difficult to deal with and thus explained his aloofness towards Buck.
Buck let out a short sigh and then cracked a sad smile. "He probably doesn't," Buck's tone however, indicated otherwise. "I guess there are just some things that can't survive a friendship. I knew that when I was helping him through it and I hoped it wouldn't make a difference in the long run but I guess that it did after all. Things have changed between us and it ain't ever gonna be the way it was before. I just have to accept it."
Vin wanted to tell him that he was wrong but he could not and felt inordinately guilty that he was partially to blame for the widening rift between the two old friends. He was not blind to the fact that Chris looked to his counsel more than he did Buck's and since they had met, both men had been drawn together in a bond that was more like blood than friendship. He had usurped Buck's place at Chris' side without even realizing it and though he knew that he could not change what had happened, he did feel badly for it especially when Buck was stinging at the loss.
Instead Vin remained quiet, choosing to let the awkward moment of silence dissipate as they continued to watch James dismount from his horse and stride into the undertakers office.
The two lawmen continued to keep close eye on the rancher as he entered the funeral home to claim the body of his nephew, making no attempt to hide their scrutiny. James ignored them because he had more immediate concerns at present and it was a task he loathed doing as it was without letting himself become distracted with thoughts of vengeance. An accounting of all wrongs done to him would come soon enough but for the moment, he would bury his nephew. Lucas had requested that he be buried at the ranch even though he had always believed that his Uncle Stuart would rescue him long before those instructions would ever become a reality. Lucas had honestly believed he would be delivered, that he would not face the hangman's noose. The unfortunate thing was; James had believed the same.
James had been confident that he would be able to secure his nephew's release. During the trial, he had paid for the best attorney that money could buy but unfortunately not even the fancy legal trickery of an eastern lawyer could discredit eye witness accounts of Lucas shooting a man in cold blood, especially when one of those witnesses was the presiding judge. James remembered a time when the people of Four Corners would be so intimidated by him that they would not have dared passed a judgment that found his nephew guilty of the charge. That time had obviously passed when they found Lucas guilty and he was then sentenced to hang. James had exhausted every possible favor to have the sentence commuted but with the eye of entire country aimed at the Territory and its lawlessness, even those who he had called friends once were unable to help.
He had considered breaking the boy out of jail but there was no way he could do that without implicating himself and the only thing James cared more about than Lucas was himself and he was not about to risk his freedom for anything, not even his nephew. It was sheer desperation that had made him roll the dice on a rescue attempt the day of the hanging and he should have known that it was doomed to failure. Fortunately, Larabee's misguided efforts at clemency, as if it would earn him one iota of credit in James' eyes, had kept the rancher from prison for the attempt.
"I'm sorry Mr. James," the undertaker remarked, his expression of sympathy was well practiced and in this instance well employed.
James did not answer because he was certain that the man did not mean it and he had no need of sympathy from a member of the town that was responsible for Lucas' death. The undertaker withdrew in the shadows, attempting to give him some measure of privacy. A gesture that James did not appreciate or feel was required. Everything that his nephew was had died with him, there was no need to reminisce with a corpse. James lowered his gaze to the pine box on the table within the inner recesses of the funeral home. The coffin was still uncovered and he had avoided looking at it from the instant he entered the room. However, now there was no avoiding it and his eyes traveled downward, pausing when he finally saw Lucas.
There was no sign of the violence that had killed Lucas, just the peaceful expression of one who had died too early. He was still clad in the clothes he had died in and the collar of his shirt was button, mostly to hide the discoloration of skin where his neck had been broken. He looked like he was sleeping and it gave James some measure of comfort that his death mask was somewhat serene in contrast to the fear he must have felt when facing the executioner. His eyes were mercifully close and James swallowed thickly, remembering the child Lucas had been, the youth he had cherished and the man he had become, tough and understanding of his place in the world. The older man ran a finger across Lucas brow, thinking of the sister he had buried first, the promise made to look after her son since her husband had passed on years before, the promise he had failed to keep. Stuart had no children of his own and had always assumed Lucas would be his heir.
All that was would never be now, the dreams of the future vanquished with a snap of rope on a stormy day.
He blinked and felt moisture in his eyes but he would not weep. He would not show the undertaker that his heart had been wounded, that they had managed to make him hurt. Lowering the stoic mask over his face once more, the vulnerability he had exposed briefly was crushed into oblivion once more and he turned away from Lucas and directed his attention at the undertaker.
"I don't need to see any more." He replied brusquely. "Seal him up and I'll take him home. I ain't letting him be buried in Boot Hill. He deserves to be with the rest of his family."
The undertaken nodded slightly for it was not in the man's habit to say any more than necessary. Most folks in James' position did not like answers even though they talked a great deal at times like this. He guessed it had to do with preoccupying the mind with trivialities instead of the grim death that was in the room sharing space with them. He had taken care of Lucas the best he could and now the body was no longer his to tend to. Stepping up to the table upon which the coffin was situated, he began the process of sealing the box for its transport out of town.
James could not watch any longer and hurried out of the room, joining his men who were awaiting him outside. Upon leaving the room with its waxy smell of death and chemicals, James sucked in his breath and steadied himself, for it would not do to look shaken in front of his employees, even though he was certain that on this occasion it was perfectly permissible.
"Boss, you okay?" His head foreman Bruce Hawkins inquired of him in genuine concern. Hawkins was a good man who had been in his employ for more almost a decade. He was fiercely loyal and was willing to do a great deal when asked of it.
"Yeah," he nodded slowly, trying to get the smell and the sight of Lucas out of his mind.
"We'll make them pay for this Mr. James," Hawkins retorted boldly.
"We will," James nodded. "I've seen to it."
Hawkins did not need any more explanation then that. He had been aware of the stranger's arrival at the ranch this morning and knew that whatever was being discussed would most likely have to do with Judged Travis and this misbegotten town. He hoped whatever he had planned for the Judge and his kin would be equal to the pain the rancher was caused at the death of his nephew. Even then, it could not be enough.
Vin and Buck were on their way to the Clarion News to relieve Nathan and JD from guarding Mrs. Travis when the stage from Bitter Creek rolled into town. Prior to his departure from town to act as escort for Judge Travis, Chris had left them with instructions to keep an eye on any strangers that might suddenly appear in town. Ezra's suggestion that a man like James did not need to soil his hands or that of his employees with the grisly work of exacting revenge made Chris painfully aware that the arrival of any new face should be regarded with caution. While Vin as skeptical that James would make his move so soon, Chris was not that easy to convince. As far as the gunslinger was concerned, they were at their most vulnerable when they leapt to obvious assumptions.
James had claimed Lucas' body and left town promptly without incident. Although the lack of trouble should have engendered his gratitude, Vin could not help thinking that the rancher was behaving a little too reasonably. Stuart James did not strike Vin as a man who would simply forget what had happened to his nephew and he was rather surprised that James was taking so much time to make his move. Even though Lucas had died yesterday, it seemed like an eternity of time because James was not a man who appeared at all patient. Something should have happened by now and if not, there ought to be whispers of it in the wind. The fact that neither had happened was inspiring the tracker's utmost ire even though Chris was sure that it would happen in due course. Chris' certainty was unwavering and his absolute confidence erased any impatience that might have arisen from the waiting.
Chris knew something was going to happen. It was just a matter of when.
"I wonder how Nathan and JD did with Mrs. Travis," Vin remarked as they lingered on the boardwalk, watching the disembarking passengers from the stage with mild curiosity.
"Oh Nathan and Mrs. Travis have been friends for quite some time I hear," Buck explained, reminding Vin that Nathan had been in Four Corners almost a year before the seven had come together. "Its JD whose gonna be sweating."
"She ain't that difficult," Vin shrugged. "I found her kind of nice."
"Oh she's nice enough," Buck quickly recanted because he could never bring himself to think unkindly of Mary in any way. "She's just real headstrong about what she wants and she doesn't want protection. Nathan can hold his own but JD's just a kid."
"JD's a smart kid," Vin spoke up in the young man's defense. In truth, Vin was not that much older than JD but upbringing had made that poles apart and he was tempered with more experience in his short life than JD had even begun to imagine. "He'll figure things out on his own."
"I don't doubt that," Buck said quickly, trying to hide how much he thought of the younger man. "But someone's gotta watch his back. He's full of dreams about what the West is supposed to be and has no idea how it really is. He's learning it a little now but not enough to keep himself from getting killed if he does anything stupid."
Vin could not disagree with that much of Buck's insight into JD because he was right. JD was full of dreams and while Vin could not berate any one for that since he had a few secret ones of his own he told no one, he did agree that the West a dangerous place and the Territory was even worse. Had JD not hooked up with them when he had first arrived, who knows what would have become of him? He was about to comment further when a man stepped off the stage that immediately gave Vin cause for concern. For a few seconds Vin stared at the stranger with the hard eyes and even harder face. He was a little older than Vin but the differences in their demeanor was marked and Vin knew without even meeting the man, that this was someone who was dangerous. The tracker had a sixth sense about these things and he was seldom wrong.
The stranger's gaze moved across the town as if he were sizing it in some way. However upon catching sight of Vin and Buck, he quickly ceased the practice as if scalded by their scrutiny. Instead he returned to the activity of unloading his belongings from the coach. Both lawmen noticed there was not much of it and guessed that the new arrival was not staying long in Four Corners. He kept his eyes conspicuously away from their direction before he moved with the rest of the new arrivals towards the hotel. Even as he walked away from them, the clothes he wore did not appear to suit him. He was wearing the clothes of a farmer or a man accustomed to hard labor but his manner was anything but.
"What do you make of that?" Buck asked.
"I don't know," Vin drawled, feeling the tension in his bones because the man looked like he was trouble but whether or not that had anything to do with Mrs. Travis was another thing entirely. It seemed awfully quick for James to have someone already in town to do his bidding. "He's here for something other than a visit that's for sure."
"You thinks he's here because of James?" Buck ventured a guess but there was more than a hint of doubt in his voice. Like Vin, he was at a loss to decide whether or not this stranger had come to Four Corners because of Stuart James or for some other reason entirely. However, he was certain that the man was up to no good.
"Could be," Vin admitted even though he felt it unlikely. "If he is here because of James, he's moving faster than any of us thought. So much for a mourning period."
"We ought to keep an eye on that boy," Buck remarked, his eyes following the stranger across the street to the hotel before something caught his attention and drove all thoughts of danger and Stuart James from his mind. "Well what have we got here?"
Vin knew Buck well enough now to recognize that tone all too well. He followed the big man's gaze and was unsurprised that it had latched on to a young woman who was being aided out of the stage. She was a slender thing with pale skin and fine chestnut hair that was held together with a lacy piece of ribbon. She was not exactly as ravishing beauty and the word that came to mind when Vin studied her was sweet. Her hazel eyes looked about apprehensively and Vin could tell that she was a little shaken at being here alone in a strange place. She seemed to flinch when the stage coach driver pointed her in the direction of the hotel as if he could harm her with his words alone.
"Now a lovely young lady like that shouldn't be roaming around this town alone and unescorted," Buck declared already walking towards the girl like a bear towards honey. Vin rolled his eyes in resignation, coming to the conclusion that the only way of stopping the Lothario for the object of his next conquest was to shoot him and Vin was not about to do that; yet.
Buck intercepted the young woman as she was making her way to the hotel and judging by her expression upon seeing him, Vin estimated she was no happier at being confronted with him them she was with the stagecoach driver. However, Buck did not seem to notice and launched once again into his charming best as he greeted the young woman who stared at Buck in wide eyed anxiety.
"Well hello there darling," Buck greeted with a wide grin that was known and proven scientifically, to reduce many a female to a series of girlish titters. "I see you're just off the stage and I thought it would be the proper thing to do to come and offer a lovely young lady like yourself a warm welcome to our little town. My name is Buck Wilmington and this here is my friend Vin Tanner." Buck removed his hat and nudged Vin in the ribs gently to do the same. The tracker rolled his eyes and did as he was instructed, hoping that they could conclude this embarrassing bit of business and get back to keeping an eye on the other new arrival in town.
"Please to meet you Mr. Wilmington," she answered after a moment of careful examination. "Mr Tanner."
"Now what's a pretty thing like you travelling all by yourself in town?" Buck asked.
"Well I came looking for my uncle," she offered nervously, still debating whether or not they could be of help to her, Vin ventured a guess.
"Well we're the closest thing to law in this town," Buck said quickly. "Maybe we can help you find him?"
"You're the sheriff?" She looked at Buck dubiously and Vin decided the girl did know a thing or two.
"Well he used to be the sheriff around here," she declared. "Sheriff Doohan?"
Buck and Vin exchanged glances, familiar with the man whom she was referring to. Doohan had been the town's last sheriff before the arrival of the seven. When those crazed Texans had been preparing to lynch Nathan for supposedly causing the death of their trail boss, Doohan had reacted by jumping on someone's horse and riding out of town. The man had not been seen since and now it appeared that this young lady had made a rather arduous trip for nothing. Vin did not relish having to tell her the truth but the way Buck was shifting about uncomfortably where he stood indicated that he was even less pleased about offering the young woman such bad news.
"Ma'am I'm sorry," Vin spoke after a moment. It was probably best that such news came from him since it would effectively ruin any chance Buck had with her if he were to deliver such bad tidings. "As far as we know Sheriff Doohan left town some time ago. He ain't been seen since."
There was no reason to tell her that the man had run out of town sporting a yellow streak as wide as the Rio Grande.
"Oh no!" She gasped in dismay, her lips trembling in shock from such disappointing news. "I came all the way from Sweet Water to find him. He's the only kin I got!"
"Now, don't you start crying," Buck exclaimed when he saw the first glimmer of moisture from her eyes. There was nothing he could stand less then seeing a woman cry, especially a pretty one. "We'll figure this out."
"I can work," she stammered looking up at Buck when he placed his hand on her shoulder and tried to offer a strong show of support that he knew what he was doing. "I just needed a place to stay to get started that's all. I can sew pretty good."
Her distress effected Vin as much as it did Buck and the tracker found himself feeling for this delicate creature who had suddenly found herself alone in the world, with no one to help. "What about Mrs Travis?" He venture a guess.
"Mary?" Buck stared at Vin.
"I'm sure she'd be willing to put Miss....Miss....." Vin glanced in her direction. "What did you say your name was?"
"Jenny," she swallowed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Jenny Miller."
"Mrs Travis is pretty nice," Vin continued, paying close attention to her for the first time. She was not extraordinarily beautiful like Mrs Travis but there was a radiant loveliness about her that appealed to him now that he noticed it. "She's the owner of the newspaper."
"You think she'd let me stay with her?" Jenny asked nervously, offering him a little smile that lit up her face in his opinion.
"I don't see why not," Vin responded and stepped forward. "Let me take that for you, Miss Miller."
"Call me Jenny," she replied as she allowed him to take the carpetbag she was carrying.
"Buck," Vin looked to the ladies man. "Why don't you keep an eye on the hotel, see what our friend is up to. I'll take Jenny to Mrs Travis' place."
"You'll take her?" Buck glowered and then noted the way the young woman was staring at Vin and realized that any chance he might have had with her had more or less dissipated when Vin had stepped in and made his suggestion.
"Yeah," Vin looked back at him innocently, unaware that he had done anything wrong. "Like you said, he could be one of James' men."
"I remember," Buck growled slightly and then realized that Vin was right, the man did bear watching. Besides, Buck could afford to be a little magnanimous when it came to the ladies. After all, he was never starved for company and there were more than a few saloon girls to pick from in town. After all, it was not as if Vin had shown any interest in the opposite sex since Buck had known him and the older man suspected that it might have to do with the fact that Vin was too shy to approach them. Oh he could talk to them well enough if it had something to do with protecting the town or just general non-descript conversation but anything that might lead to more send the tracker into full retreat. It was quite astonishing when one realized how capable he was in every other aspect.
"I guess I could keep an eye on him," Buck added after a moment. "Vin could I have a minute before you and Miss Jenny here run off?"
"Sure," Vin nodded as Buck stepped out of the young woman's earshot and bid him forward. "What is it? You need some back up?"
"No," Buck frowned. "I think she likes you." He pointed out, glancing over Vin's shoulder at Jenny before returning his attention back to the tracker.
"What?" Vin hissed, wondering how Buck could come to such a conclusion.
"You heard me," Buck whispered. "Now remember to play it smooth like you are now..."
"Will you cut it out?" Vin snapped. "Just because I am being nice to her, doesn't mean anything!" The tracker hissed defensively, feeling damned uncomfortable now at the possibility. He didn't know how to talk to women when he was in such uncharted territory and now Buck had succeeded in making him so self conscious around the woman he probably couldn't say anything at all. With that he pulled away from Buck and started to walk back towards Jenny when he heard Buck call out again.
"Remember pard," Buck grinned devilishly after him. "Smooth."