RINGO

By Scribe

DISCLAIMER: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.

Authors Note: Even though I have envisioned Johnny Ringo as he was portrayed by Michael Biehn in the film Tombstone, I have chosen to base this story on the historical facts of his life, i.e Ringo and Doc Holliday never faced each other, his involvement in the death of Wyatt Earp’s brother, Morgan and the suspicious circumstances of his death.

Prologue:

Gravitating Objects

She kept the windows closed and the curtains pulled close to keep away the light. The doctors had told her that it was the best that she avoided the dryness produced by the sunlight against her skin as it would only harm the healing process. She could not abide the possibility of scars in any shape or form so she remained hidden; praying that the precautions she was adhering to with such insistence was enough to spare her from a horror she could not face. She stayed cloistered within the walls of her room in the private sanitarium that had been her sanctuary for some time now, unable to face the outside world without the tools that had allowed her to survive in it for so long. Behind the bandages that concealed her identity and her injuries, she awaited in silent anticipation of the day she would be free of them, praying for the first time in her life that when they did, she would not be disappointed by what she found.

Because Laurel Chase could not be anything but beautiful.

Mr. Zhang remained at her side as always, almost as much in need of recovery as she did, after what they had endured in recent months. Her faithful servant ensured that no one found their way to her during her convalescence which was just as well for she was in no condition to defend herself if there was danger. Laurel was unaccustomed to being vulnerable and the experience was not at all pleasant. Hidden behind the swathe of bandages, she prayed that she be allowed to recover before it was time to move on. Zhang’s injuries healed faster than hers and even the best surgeons in the world could not ensure a speedy recovery because the damage done to her face required the one thing that money could not buy, time. Thus Laurel languished in the limbo of not knowing whether her most precious physical attribute would survived her ordeal.

In the darkness of her room, she seethed in white-hot fury at the events and the individuals whose actions brought her to the nightmare she now endured. She thought of Mary Larabee and Alexandra Tanner who had within them, monsters that had almost destroyed her face. She had no idea that the Venom, which she had used to drug and enslaved, so many men could have such an adverse affect on the women as to bring forth the latent personalities that remained buried under their skin. She had no understanding of how she could have unleashed such fearsome creatures but she knew that she was afraid of them and so she would not attack them directly when it was time to wreak her vengeance.

She would attack the men they loved.

That thought alone gave Laurel great comfort because it pleased her to think that she would pit herself against Chris Larabee once more. He had been her great project, the man she had chosen to be her consort. If he was only capable of appreciating the darkness within himself, there was no telling what they could have accomplished together. When she had first seen him in that provincial little town in the heart of the Territory, she knew she had to have him. The sight of the man, black coat billowing in the dusty wind, his eyes searching the street like a hunter had been the most magnificent specimen of the gender she had ever seen and she knew that she wanted him there and then. In a life where she had been the object of desire, Laurel had finally understood what it was like to crave something just as badly.

She gave him no choice in the matter of course because she had been so certain that once he knew what real power was; he would forget the wife and child she forced him to leave behind. For a time it had worked and she had bound him to her with such strength that he had no choice but to become her creature. When she finally took him to her bed, it was just as she imagined and she was determined that nothing would take him from her. Unfortunately, she had not counted on the men he called his friends for they sought his return with fierce devotion and did not relent one wit in finding him. The one called Vin Tanner had pursued him with such rancor and ruthless determination that it was inevitable that he would find her prize. Tanner had led the others to her place of power and took Chris Larabee from her.

As anticipated, once he was freed of the Venom, he had come back for her to exact his own vengeance but she was ready for him. She had planned her escape carefully and ensured her freedom. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction to see the rage in his eyes when she forced him to let her go but she was certain that they would meet again and he was absolute that they would. For a time after that, she remained hidden, sitting out the storm of interest generated by Chris in law enforcement circles for the manner in which she produced her concoction. Her Venom required the enzymes produced in the pituitary gland of all human beings and in order to manufacture it, she needed and acquired donors, usually involuntary ones because the process of extraction was fatal. Even Laurel no longer remembered how many had been sacrificed for her purposes but she supposed the number was enough to inspire the authorities utmost desire to find her and make her accountable for them.

When Laurel emerged again, it was to bedevil Chris Larabee again for though he had escaped her, he still very much belonged to her. She wanted him and only him to sit at her side. All it would take for that to happen was to break that spirit and the bonds he had to his old life. She had intended killing the men he rode with and the wife he remained so devoted to. Unfortunately, her underestimation of Chris’ wife Mary had severe consequences for her personally. Laurel had barely escaped her confrontation with Chris’ wife alive although the beauty she had relied upon all her life had not been left unscathed. Her face, upon so much of her power over men relied, had bore the brunt of Mary’s retaliation for the attack upon her family. If not for Zhang’s loyalty, Laurel would no doubt be enjoying her convalescence behind bars, if they had let her live that long.

Her physicians assured her that her face would suffer no lasting effects despite how severe the damage might have appeared to her. Laurel lived in fear that they were wrong, that her great beauty was marred forever and while she lived in part with the terror of that possibility, she also lived with the hatred of vengeance at those who had caused this misfortune to be visited upon her. Nothing else mattered except that. She would make him pay, him, his friend and, not to forget most importantly the women who had done this to her. She would make them all suffer. Eventually.

Unfortunately, aside from her physical difficulties, Laurel found herself without a plan of attack even though in her solitude, she had the time to formulate one. Nothing came to mind however, largely because she was so uncertain of herself. For a woman who was so used to being in absolute control of her destiny, the rudderless limbo she now found herself was disconcerting, especially when she wanted so badly to make those who had driven her to this state pay for their crimes. Her depression grew the more she hated without purpose or scheme and until she could look into a mirror without shrinking in horror at what might be, she knew that her confidence would not return.

However, there was one thing she could not escape from no matter how much the anger tainted her or how deep her need for vengeance ran through her veins and that was the incontrovertible fact that on some level, she still wanted Chris Larabee. She knew that he was fast developing into her weakness but Laurel had been unable to shake the desire. She had enjoyed pitting herself against him, enjoyed being able to make him twist and turn from the games she played with him. Did she love him? It was a question Laurel pondered long and hard during the months of her convalescence. It took some time for her to realize that she did not. She was merely drawn to what he was for they were both creatures of a type although he did not seem capable of admitting it.

She did not love him, Laurel decided most conclusively but she did wish to possess him and that made it all so much sweeter. One did not love a man like Chris Larabee for it was folly to do so. Laurel preferred to enjoy him without ever becoming misguided by the notion that love had anything to do with it. She was determined that he would play her game and become her creature again. It was only a matter of time before she left her prison of walls and sought the way to make that a reality and this time, she would not let his dear wife stop her but she would leave Mary alive to suffer the knowledge that he belonged to her.

The way Laurel suffered.

************

A life away from where Laurel Chase was presently making her secret promises of revenge, a man was riding back to Territory, wondering why he was returning at all. It was not as if he was not a wanted man already and he had probably the most relentless lawman in the West determined to catch him. However, Johnny Ringo was not too terribly worried about the consequences should he get caught. In truth it would probably be to his pursuers disadvantage then it would be to him. Besides, Wyatt Earp had been pursuing him for some months now and he was still no closer to catching Ringo then when he first started. Still it amused Ringo to no end that Earp continued the chase. It never ceased to amaze Ringo the length people went to fulfil their desires for vengeance. Ringo never took it personally. People died all the time; the trick was to never become too attached to anyone for it to hurt.

Of course there were people for whom he mourned, some he thought about frequently, others which he tried not think about at all. The ones he thought about were the friends who had died too recently for his liking, often at the hands of the man who was now chasing him into Perdition’s Fires, with no idea that Ringo had been there since he was fourteen years old. Wyatt thought to make him suffer for his crimes with nary the slightest inclination that Ringo had been suffering for as long as he could remember and there was little Wyatt could do to him that would make that any worse. Still Ringo could not helping missing friends like Old Man Clanton and Curly Bill Brocius.

He actually shed a tear when the news reached him about Bill

He did not know at which point he chose to run instead of staying around and facing Wyatt. Perhaps the deaths had mounted up to the point that the life he had chose for himself no longer interested him. When Bill had gone, the color seemed to have drained from his world. Ringo remembered how he and Bill had taken on the Earps in Tombstone. The Clantons were never smart about their disdain for the famous family of lawmen and chose to attack them in the open. Ringo and Bill had been smarted than that. Their way was subtle and unexpected. They crippled Virgil and they killed Morgan outright. The strength of the Earps had always been in their numbers so they thought, but unfortunately with his brothers either crippled or murdered, Wyatt went on the rampage. Too many of their companions bore the brunt of that frenzied rage.

Wyatt had killed Bill in much the same way.

If Ringo had allowed vengeance to sink its ugly tenterhooks into him, he might have tried to avenge his old friend but he was too sensible for that. With so many of the friends who would have rode at his side to take revenge on the marshal dead or in prison, Ringo knew when the odds were against him. Besides, Bill often said that the dumbest thing a man could do was let things get personal. Once that happen, he opened himself up to a whole world of trouble Therefore when the news reached him about Bill, all Ringo had done was to take a quiet moment to himself, allowing the emotion of sorrow to pass through him while toasting a drink to his lost friend before saddling up and riding out of town.

From there he had traveled to California, spending a few weeks in San Francisco, getting high on opium in the dens to be found in Chinatown, enjoying the company of many a dainty whore before coming down to earth again. He was on his way back to the Territory when he heard Doc Holliday was dead. That did upset him a little because he had always wanted to see which of them was the faster draw. They had almost gone at it once in Tombstone. In a drunken stupor that was not exactly one of his finer moments, Ringo had challenged both Wyatt and the Doc to a gunfight. Wyatt was good with a gun but he was not the marksman that the Doc was and it was Doc that Ringo had really wanted to fight. The opportunity never came because the so-called police of Tombstone settled the matter before it spiraled out of control and the chance to face the only man who might have killed him slipped away forever.

Now the Doc was dead. No doubt taken by the tuberculosis that reduced him from a well-spoken southerner to the sick, dying man that he was. Holliday was the only man that Ringo knew of whom had an even greater death wish then he. The last thing of challenge in his life had finally gone the way of the of dodo and suddenly Ringo was struck by the feeling that it would not be long before he met his end as well. In some way, he knew that he had been waiting to die for quite some time, ever since that day when he was fourteen, in a memory he had all but buried for the sheer horror of it.

There was nothing left for him anymore, not with Old Man Clanton gone, his son Ike rotting in jail and with Bill buried in Boot Hill. Ringo rode into the Territory, certain that death would find him soon enough and if he were lucky, he would take a good many men with him when he went.

After all, how else was Johnny Ringo supposed to die but in blaze of glory?

RINGO

Part One

The Marshall

He had been travelling for almost a week now, searching every one horse town and then some for the prey but so far he had found nothing except another town even farther down the trail he had been following relentlessly. Sometimes he wondered if the thing he sought was an illusion, an apparition given form because of grief and guilt. This quest upon which he had embarked with no end in sight felt as if it had taken the best years with him even though in truth he knew it was only little more than two. The Doc would say that he was using the chase as an excuse to keep from getting on with his life. Perhaps his old friend was right but he would never be able to admit that to him because the Doc was dead.

He had been present when it happened, watching a man so proud and dapper, disintegrate before his eyes, trying not to remember the countless times Doc had watched his back and now his friend needed him most, he could do nothing to help. It broke his heart hearing Doc’s raspy breath or the coughing that seemed to rip the soul out of him each time it forced its way out of his throat. In the end, the Doc could hardly speak and all he could do was sit by his bed and watch helplessly as the disease took away the best friend that Wyatt Earp would ever have.

He died whispering his thanks to Wyatt because a gentleman did not take his leave of anyone without making appropriate farewells. Wyatt tried not to get emotional thinking about the Doc, aware that the display would have annoyed the sardonic physician to no end. However, there were too many periods of solitude during this quest where he had nothing to do during the nights but think and inevitably the memories of better days would return to plague him. The memories about Doc were the one of the hardest to bear but there were deeper wounds, hiding in the recesses of his mind, waiting for him to give breath to their existence by journeying down the winding paths of his past. Wyatt had made avoiding those agonies something of an art and now he was so practiced at avoiding the issue that it was almost second nature.

He did not kid himself any more that the badge he wore on his breast was for the enforcement of the law. The woman, who loved him, Josephine Marcus had stayed in California waiting for him to return, had shattered that illusion before he left her to embark upon his quest. She had wanted him to stay with her and he had every intention of returning to her but he could not let this go, not until he was finished what he set out to do. Being Marshall allowed him to seek his prey with more efficiency. It ensured that he received cooperation from the lawmen he came across in those little frontier towns where the enemy was known to hide. He remembered what Josephine had said the last time he saw her and her words still stung, especially when he was faced with yet another dead end.

The badge had nothing to do with justice and everything to do with revenge.

It was getting harder and harder to deny that she was wrong because he did want revenge. He craved it with so much need that it was worse than desire. It made him continue even though the trail was as cold as the ashes of the dead he was attempting to avenge. It pushed him onward with relentless determination and Wyatt Earp was ruthless in his quest to find the man who had shot his older brother Virgil, crippling him forever. However, not even Virgil’s injury could compare to the reason why Wyatt was driving himself like a man possessed because Virgil was still alive.

And Morgan was not.

His younger brother had been shot in the back a few days after what had become known as the gunfight at OK Corral. It was fast becoming a legend that Wyatt did not care too much for especially when he remembered what it cost him. Morgan had killed a man for the first time that day and it stole his younger brother’s innocence forever. Not that Morgan had much time to regret his loss. He was killed some days later, shot in the back. A man had the right to see his killer and his murderer had taken that away from Morgan.

Wyatt had no idea which one of them was responsible, Curly Bill or his deadlier companion Johnny Ringo. Perhaps he would never know since it did not appear likely that he was going to find Ringo anytime soon. However, he had left nothing to chance because Bill was dead, Wyatt had seen to that. Ringo was the only one left of Morgan’s possible murderers and Wyatt was determined to see justice done although lately he had begun to question whether or not he was the last victim of Ringo’s crime. After all, he was trapped in the cycle of the chase, unable to focus on anything else because of his determination to catch his brother’s murderer. Was it possible that Ringo knew this was exactly what he would do? Wyatt hated to think he was that predictable because if he was, then his whole reason for finding the man was a lie and it was something he would not be able to face.

Fortunately, it had not come to that yet and Wyatt found himself about to ride into another small town. This one did not look any different than the others he had seen scattered throughout the frontier that was the Territory. Perhaps here he would find Ringo and if not, then a warm bed and a good stiff shot of whiskey would do just as well. He was not particularly concerned of which it was at this time. He was tired and in need of rest. He had been riding since daybreak and the sun was too high in the sky to continue any further. Besides, he and his horse needed to get under the shade and the heat was much too hellish to permit them any further travel today.

The town of Four Corners reminded him in part of Tombstone when he had first arrived. There was just enough ruggedness about it to convince a visitor that its lawless days were not that far behind it but more than enough prosperity in the streets to indicate that it was thriving. It was a dusty town but then no settlement in the Territory could really escape that aspect of the desert. As he made his way past the outskirts of the community, he could see that it had a number of saloons and a large central hotel, which would serve him very well for the night. Despite being accustomed to life on the trail, it was nice to slip in between the cool sheets of a comfortable bed after a hard number of days riding.

He refused to entertain the notion that Ringo might be here because he had been disappointed so many times already and Wyatt was too jaded to feel anything resembling hope these days. He rode into town with little expectation of anything beyond his fulfilling his immediate needs for rest and a hot meal. Of course a stiff drink would not hurt either and when he entered the main street of town, he sought first, the nearest saloon to satisfy that particular requirement. It did not take him long to find one. Despite being a small town, there were two saloons, a place called Diggers Dan’s and a more respectable looking place called the Standish Tavern. Wyatt opted for the latter for that very reason. Dispensing with the need for lodgings at present, Wyatt directed his horse towards the Standish Tavern.

His appearance in town did not raise much of a stir beyond the usual curious glances of townspeople at the arrival of a new person in town. A few paused to look him over and while he noted that there was caution in their eyes, this too was customary in the Territory. However, the badge that sat on the lapel of his duster did much to alleviate their concern and soon caution was replaced by curiosity. Wyatt led his horse to the hitching post before dismounting and going through the motions of seeing the animal properly tethered and close enough to the water trough to quench its thirst. After all it’s was hardly fair that he should get a drink and his riding companion during this journey be denied.

Leaving the animal for the moment, Wyatt reminded himself to ensure his horse be stabled at local livery he had seen whilst entering town before turning in for the evening. It was mid afternoon when he entered the saloon and the evening crowd was already starting to build up. A sultry Mexican barmaid was holding court behind the counter, giving orders to an equally fetching Creole barmaid who was armed with a tray of drinks. Both stood out amongst the company of saloon girls because neither appeared garish adorned and seemed appropriate to more respectable surroundings than their present location. The barmaid moved off before he arrived at the counter but the other greeted him warmly once she caught sight of him.

"Good afternoon," she started to say but paused briefly upon noting the badge he wore. "Marshall. What can I get for you today?"

"A whiskey will do for now ma’am." Wyatt smiled at her pleasantly and then notice that there was a wedding ring on her finger and immediately became less familiar with his manner.

"A whiskey coming right up," she smiled a dazzling smile and Wyatt found himself thinking that the man married to her was fortunate indeed.

She went away for a moment to fill his order and Wyatt allowed himself to observe the patrons within the establishment. Most of the drinkers were travelers like him taking a break in their journey to other places. Others were cowpokes who had come off the trail or locals who were here for a little bit of entertainment, either in the company of the saloon girls or playing a hand of poker. Wyatt did not see much danger in this crowd and felt himself relax a little before turning back to the bar counter where his drink was waiting.

"Anything else Senor?" The lovely bartender asked him politely.

"I don’t suppose I could get something to eat?" Wyatt asked hopefully, not really in the mood to go to a restaurant.

"I can fix you something," she replied. "You look like you need it."

"Can argue with you there," Wyatt responded, removing his hat as a gesture of thanks and acknowledgement that he was dealing with a lady, even in these surroundings.

The woman offered him another dazzling smile before she disappeared into the kitchen at the rear of the bar and Wyatt returned his attention to his drink, making plans to get an early night so that he could resume his quest at daybreak. He would go through the motions of trying to learn if Ringo had been seen in these parts but he was not holding much hope of that. If there was one thing that Wyatt knew about Johnny Ringo by now, it was the fact that the man knew how to lay low. Ringo was certainly not going to walk through the front door.

If there was one thing Wyatt Earp knew with certainty, it was the fact that when he finally caught up with Johnny Ringo, neither of them would expect it.

************

Married life was not what Ezra Standish expected.

In truth, he had not known really what his marriage to Julia Pemberton would be like. Observing Chris, Vin and Buck was no assistance whatsoever, even if he did enjoy their domestic bliss. For the numerous times he had been in the Larabee household, he had been somewhat amazed at Mary’s abilities to be able to juggle her roles as mother, wife and editor of the Clarion News while still managing to remain an immaculate housekeeper. Alex on the other hands who was going into the fifth month of her pregnancy was still managing to play doctor to Four Corners and keep house with Vin. Inez not only kept house with Vin, looked after a delightful infant daughter but she also ensured the smooth running of the Standish Tavern. With these three as examples, Ezra had come to the firm realization that there were tricks to life that were beyond the understanding of men and clearly in the purview of the fair sex. It was the only explanation he could conceive of why women were able to do the things they were. So he was quite mystified than upon moving into Julia’s home to experience his own brand of domestic bliss, he found that it was nothing of the kind.

His marriage had only been a few weeks old and Ezra was finding that it was nothing like what he had imagined it would be. For so long he had been sneaking in and out of Julia’s home that when he finally said goodbye to his lodging house, he was certain it was going to be nothing but bliss to be able to wake up in the same bed with Julia every morning. Of course with everything in life, imagination had little to do with reality and as Ezra found himself thrust headlong into the complexities of married life, he discovered that he knew very little about Julia beyond the romantic idea they had shared for so long.

Like for instance, she couldn’t cook.

Okay, that was unfair. She could cook a little but most of the time, she either ate the hotel restaurant or had food brought to her at the Emporium, since she usually worked until well after six. When they had shared supper before, it was usually because she bought it from one of the restaurants in town. This did not surprise Ezra as much when he first discovered that his desire for breakfast was soon followed by a rather blank expression on her face at realising he expected her to make it. She was after all, the beloved daughter of a millionaire, she probably had never had to cook a thing in her life.

Of course, she did not know how to housekeep either.

Ezra looked around the untidy house with a torn shirt in his hand wondering if it would be simpler if he did some of the housework. Julia was not at home and he wondered when did she ever have time to make the place look presentable whenever he used to call on her. He rummaged through the closet where his clothes now rested and found to his chagrin that none of his shirts were laundered. Further investigation revealed that his entire store of white shirts was currently languishing inside a hamper at the foot of the bed. Ezra glanced at the shirt he was presently wearing and frowned unhappily. He and Buck had just pulled apart two brawling farmers at the local granary and in the process had been sent him tumbling into the dirt, soiling what appeared to be his last clean shirt.

"Julia!" He called opening the door to the bathroom where she was presently bathing.

His wife peered at him from under her hair, pinned untidily on her head as she soaked languidly in the cool water. She had returned home shortly before he did and he had not wanted to bother her until now. After a hard day’s work, Ezra could not begrudge his wife wishing a moment to herself. Her lips curled into a little smile seeing him, not at all paying much attention to the look of annoyance on his face.

"Join me?" She asked teasingly.

"Do I have any clean shirts left?" He inquired neutrally.

"Aren’t there any in the cupboard?" She sat up in the bath, noticing the tension in his voice.

"Not that I have been able to find," Ezra pointed out. "They all seem to be in the laundry hamper."

"Oh," Julia mused as she stroked her skin with the wet sponge, rivulets of foam and water running down her outstretched arms. "Becky Taylor does the laundry on Tuesdays. They’ll be done then. Now take that off and come on in," Julia repeated herself, this time putting a hint of pout in her lips as her toes stuck out of the tub, wiggling at him with invitation..

"Tuesday is tomorrow Julia," Ezra replied. "I do not have any shirts until then."

"At all?" Julia looked at him with a brow cocked.

"No," he retorted more sharply then he intended. "This," he glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, with its ripped sleeve and dirt covered front, "is all I have."

"We’ll just go pick up some new ones at the Emporium," Julia said brightly, not seeing a problem. After all, the two of them had endured much worse in the past to be concerned about anything as mundane as shirts.

"Julia," he sighed. "I am your husband, not a kept man. I will not simply help myself to things whenever I need it from your Emporium."

"You’re serious," Julia stared at him in astonishment. Of course everything she had would be his when they married. Julia was no so modern in her thinking that she could ever imagine that would be different. It was the way of things that upon marriage that what was hers became his. She accepted that without question even if she did handle her own business affairs. However, it was not the kind of sharing that could be documented in titles or deeds. It was just the way it was.

"Of course I’m serious," he exclaimed with exasperation. "I married you because I love you, not because I wish to live off you. I simply meant that it would be nice if you could occasionally do some laundry."

The sponge fell from her hands and splashed into the water. Green eyes met his with astonishment and suddenly, Ezra had the feeling that he had been on the edge of a forbidden line and had crossed it without even realising it was there. Julia stood up abruptly, heavy trickles of water running down her glistening neck and it was at this inappropriate moment that Ezra found himself thinking of Boticelli’s Venus rising from the ocean. Completely naked, she stepped out of the bath and grabbed her robe; her emerald colored eyes becoming like hard points of flint at she stared at him.

"Are you telling me you expect me to wash your shirts? To clean up after you like some maid!" She hissed.

"It’s what married women do," he said weakly and with incredible ignorance of the consequences until it was too late.

"What married women do?" She gasped, her eyes blazing outrage as she stormed up to him, naked and soaking wet, oblivious to her nudity with murder in her expression.

"Granted, I do not expect you to become Mary Larabee overnight but I thought at least laundering a shirt or two might not be too much to ask for," Ezra stammered nervously. He swore inwardly as soon as he uttered Mary’s name, aware that he had made a bad situation deteriorate into an absolute catastrophe.

"So now I’m not as good a wife as Mary!" Julia finally exploded. "Well excuse me Mr. Standish, or should I said my LORD AND MASTER!"

"Julia," Ezra started to retreat at the rage in her eyes, "now let’s not blow this out of proportion…."

"Out of proportion!" She roared and snatched a bottle of perfume that was seated on the dressing table and flung it at him.

Ezra had just enough time to stumble out of the door into the hallway when it impacted at the space where he had been standing, sending a spray of scented water all over his shirt but fortunately not glass. "Julia, I think you’re over reacting!"

"Overreacting?" She hissed, side stepping the glass fragments as she followed him out of the room. "I am sorry I do not have time to wash and clean after you but this house we live in and the food we eat does not magically appear out of the goddamn dollar a day that you so magnanimously bring to the housekeeping budget! I work just as you work and since I’m not going to start arguing about whose job is more important, I might remind you Mr. Standish that if you feel my housekeeping abilities is lacking, then perhaps you ought to try a novel approach!"

"Like what?" He looked at her, not daring to say anything more before made things even worse.

"LIKE DOING IT YOURSELF!" She screamed just before slamming the bedroom door on his face.

For a few seconds after the echo of the slamming door had faded into stillness, Ezra let out a sigh and shook his head in frustration, "as mother would say, smooth Ezra very smooth."

*********

"Vin I can ride!" Alexandra Styles Tanner grumbled as her husband hitched her horse to the surrey that he had made her buy at the onset of her pregnancy, some time ago. She stared at the stupid contraption, wondering why this was necessary even though as a doctor, she knew perfectly well why he had insisted.

Vin ignored his wife as he continued to yoke her horse Phoebe to the little carriage, refusing to entertain another word of protest and wondering if it was such an unreasonable thing to wish to lock her up for the duration of the pregnancy with a gag in her mouth. The mental image conjured up by that brought an enigmatic smile to his face even as Alex’s complaints grew louder and more unreasonable in the background. For once in his life, he wished he possessed the Larabee stare. The ability to shut people up with that infamous glare was a talent that Vin would have traded his right arm for. As much as he loved Alex, the potent mix of hormones and resentment at not being able to do to the things she had always done had turned the woman he loved with all his heart and soul into the most ornery female this side of the Territory.

He was certain she could scare away grizzly bears with her temperament.

"No you can’t Alex," Vin said through his teeth, trying to remain calm. He was not one to get unusually agitated and prided himself with being unflappable to most things. Hell he had ridden with Chris Larabee for almost four years and though the man was his best friend, there were times when even Vin wanted to strangle the grim son of a bitch, and these days Chris had actually mellowed.

"Look I’ll be fine," she insisted, pacing the ground outside their newly built home situated on the ranch built on the land that had once been home to Chris Larabee’s shack. When Chris had married Mary Travis, the gunslinger had moved to town and allowed Vin to take up tenancy while at the same time establishing a horse ranch where Vin and Buck were equal partners. The shack had burned down thanks to one of their enemies some months ago and Vin had taken the opportunity to build a real home for Alex and their unborn child.

Vin’s fingers tightened around the strap of the horse’s reins, his knuckles almost turning white from the effort of his restraining his anger. He looked up at his wife and saw her staring at him defiantly, her cheeks flushed with annoyance, her face taking on that little girl petulance whenever she knew she was not getting her way. Her stomach was prominent by the swell of the life she carried within her and yet she looked wonderful. If anything kept him from snapping at her, it was the radiance of all that reminding him that she was not in her right mind. Chris had warned him about this, right after he gave Vin the valuable advise that perhaps he should carry his gun close by for the rest of her term.

Bastard, Vin snorted to himself.

"Alex," he gave her a long meaningful stare, the one he knew she couldn’t resist. She was not the only one who knew how to use a pout to her advantage. "You can’t ride. It’s safe. You’re a doctor, you know that better than anyone else."

"Argh!" Alex threw up her hands in exasperation and glared at him. "I hate it when you do that!"

"What?" He stared at her with blue eyed innocence.

"You know!" She growled. "Use logic on me! I mean I hate this! I mean I love the idea of having a baby, our baby but why can’t it be quick! Its insane, I know what to expect, I’ve seen it happen hundred of times, I’ve delivered babies, advised mothers on how to care for their infants and right now I feel as maternal as branding iron!"

A little smile crooked past Vin’s lips and he finished securing the carriage to Phoebe with a pull of leather. Rounding the mare and her new burden, he went to his wife who was leaning against the side of it appearing flustered and depressed. Mood swings were also something he had noticed during the past five months and fortunately, he was not capable of dealing with it instead of walking around the place looking downright confused looking for peanut butter at strange hours of the night. Once again, Chris had been a fountain of useful information when he remarked that Alex might get by better on dry crackers and actually convinced Vin to bring some for his wife.

He was damned lucky he did not have them removed from an uncomfortable place following her reaction to his statement that they were better for than peanut butter.

"I know its hard," Vin started to say.

"Wait," Alex stuck her hand out at him, preventing him from speaking further. "This isn’t based on more useful advice from Chris?"

Vin had to think about it before answering, "course not."

"Good," Alex sighed in relief. "You remember what almost happened to you and those crackers."

"I remember," Vin nodded instinctively brushing non-existent crumbs from his hair. "Don’t worry Inez explained it to me."

"Finally," Alex grinned, "advice from someone who isn’t a man!"

Vin knew he should have been offended but he was too smart to let on. Instead, he sidled next to her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him and holding her tight in his embrace. "We’ll get through this darling."

She melted in his arms. Well truth be known, she could never really be mad at him for too long, even when she was throwing dry crackers at him. "I know we will. I feel so useless. I’m not used to feeling this way."

He supposed she could not, now that he considered it. Alex had spent most of her life with her father, taking care of him until she was old enough and knowledgeable enough to work with him. After that, she had dedicated herself to being a healer and there was always someone that needed tending to somewhere. If it was not being the physician of choice for one of the many injuries the seven seemed to have, even with Nathan as one of their numbers, it was as doctor to the town of Four Corners. She traveled almost as much as he in her profession and she brought her healing to the Indian villages around the locality, not to mention the smaller communities that did not have any medical facilities of any kind. He loved her for her unfailing desire to help and he could appreciate her frustration at being incapable of doing the things that defined her. Vin supposed if he had suddenly lost his sharp shooting abilities or his tracking skills, he’d be just as ornery.

"You’re wonderful," he whispered into her hair, "and you could never feel useless. I’d be lost without you."

"Liar," she said with a little smile, not wanting to admit his reassurances were making her feel better.

Vin chuckled but knew he had won her over, even if she was still resisting. "Once you have this baby, you’re never gonna feel like that again. Our son will need you as much as I will so you don’t got to worry, you won’t be like this forever."

"You’re such a sweet talker cowboy," she turned around and stared into his eyes. "How can you stand being around me, I look like a whale."

Vin smiled perfectly aware of what she wanted to hear and kissed on the forehead. "I ain’t never seen a whale before but I’m sure you got one beat." He winked.

"Thanks," she rested her head on his chest, "I’m sorry I’m acting so crazy Vin. I guess this is what they call the text book mood swings."

"Really?" He looked at her with mischief. "I hadn’t notice. You ain’t much different to how you normally are – difficult."

"I am difficult?" She snorted imperiously. "Says the man who must have two eggs in the morning for breakfast, sunny side up with a serving of jam and toast with freshly brewed coffee or else you won’t get a civilized word out of him?"

"What can I say," the tracker grinned, unrepentant. "I’m a connoisseur."

Alex rolled her eyes; "this is what comes from you hanging around Ezra too much."

Vin’s response was another embrace and this time he held on to her for a time, thinking how much he loved holding her and how good it felt to have her in his arms now that they were creating life together. Having a wife, a child on the way, enjoying them both in the house that he had built with his two hands was as close to bliss as Vin ever thought he would experience in his life. Despite all the trouble that seemed to come the way of the Magnificent Seven, he and Alex had managed to weather it without endangering their relationship in anyway. If anything, the bond between them had only strengthened and Vin had no doubt that once she had the baby, she would be a great deal happier.

"Come on,’ he pulled away from her, "let’s get going to town."

Alex let out a heavy sigh and stared at the surrey waiting for her. She knew that he was being sensible in requiring her to make the journey to Four Corners in the carriage but it was just another symbol of all the things she could not do. She missed riding on Phoebe herself but most of all she missed riding with him like they used to. Alex had loved riding with him on horseback, she loved holding onto him, smelling the musk of his buckskin coat and the woody scent of his body. Nowadays, Peso just flinched at the sight of her approaching, no doubt feeling all kinds of trepidation about having to support not only Vin but she who had suddenly become as large as a hippo.

"I don’t suppose you’re going to let me ride there without the….."

"Nope," Vin said shortly without even drawing breath to consider the question. "So forget about even asking."

"But…." She tried to add.

"No Alex," Vin drew away from her and walked to the step that led inside the carriage waiting expectantly for her.

"I could…"

"I’m sure you could but not today you ain’t," he declared firmly in the tone of voice that very much said that he would be immovable on this matter. "Got anything else to say?" He looked at her sharply.

Alex let out a heavy sigh and shook her head in response.

"Good," Vin smiled triumphantly to himself.

For once, he had the last word.

************

Chris Larabee could smell Ezra Standish halfway down the street before he actually encountered the gambler on his way to the Standish saloon. What was more astonishing then the fact that Ezra smelled like the inside of a cat house was the fact that he looked like something that ought to be bundled within the contents of a laundry hamper. Despite Ezra’s less than impeccable grooming, a situation Chris was certain the gambler would have found completely unacceptable, Ezra was putting up a brave front, pretending to appear nonplussed as if everything was status quo even though it was definitely far from that for him to be in this state.

"Ezra," Chris noted as he paused along the boardwalk, waiting for the southerner to catch up with him.

As always, Ezra wore that impenetrable mask that allowed no emotion to escape his expression of choice. Chris had no doubt that he would rather die than show those around him that he was in the least bit distressed. It might have worked if not for the fact that Chris knew him too well to be deceived by any of the facades that Ezra might choose to wear for the benefit of others. Four years of friendship and weathering the worst of storms had seen to that. Even if Ezra chose not to speak of what troubled him, Chris was more than willing to accept that on its merit because Ezra was a private person and he knew when to ask for help, no matter how embarrassing it might be.

"Mr. Larabee," Ezra said stiffly, trying to maintain his composed expression even though the gunslinger’s natural curiosity was already attempting to discern the reason for his rather disheveled appearance.

"Rose water isn’t it?" Chris leaned forward long enough to take a slight whiff of the scent emanating from the gambler.

"Very funny," Ezra’s eyes narrowed at he glared at Chris, furious that he could hide nothing from the gunslinger. "I suppose there’s no hiding anything from you."

"Well not in this case since something does smell bad," he grinned with a devilish gleam in his eye that was pure Chris Larabee.

Ezra gave him another look, "fine if you must know, Julia and I had an argument. It’s nothing serious even though I’m certain nothing like this ever happens to you. After all you and Mary have had numerous occasions to prove that your life is a perfect example of marital bliss."

Chris cocked a brow at that statement; "you think so huh?"

"Isn’t it?" Ezra grumbled.

"No," Chris laughed, wondering if Ezra would think the same if he had spent a day in the Larabee household during the first few months of little Mikey’s infancy. There were moments during the child’s midnight feedings where Chris and Mary had spilled blood, drawing lots as to whose turn it was going to be to feed the baby. "There ain’t such things a perfect in a marriage Ezra, trust me I know."

"I suppose you’re right," Ezra let out a heavy sigh as they came within sights of the saloon. "Perhaps I overreacted somewhat. I suppose I was being to presumptuous expecting Julia to wash my shirts."

Chris just about choked on his spit at that statement.

"What?" Ezra stared at him following that reaction.

"You asked Julia to wash your clothes? Julia Pemberton?" Chris did not know whether or not to laugh in disbelief or shock, either way both emotions seemed appropriate for the moment.

"Yes," Ezra stiffened with annoyance at Chris’ amusement at his predicament. "Pray tell what is so funny?"

"Ezra come on," Chris looked at him. "There are women who do the cooking and the cleaning but even I knew that Julia ain’t one of them. She wouldn’t even know how."

"But she’s been on her own for sometimes without the complement of custodial staff that would no doubt have served her when she was in her father’s house. I did not think it unreasonable to assume that she might have some idea of how to accomplish some domestic duties." Ezra retorted, however he was starting to see the magnitude of his error.

"You don’t expect it from your mother," Chris pointed out.

"My mother is different," he stated firmly.

"Not that different Ez," Chris reminded.

"That’s not funny," Ezra stared at him before he let out a groan, "oh dear lord! What was I thinking?"

While Julia was not like his mother in many respect (thank the heavens), she was not a woman who was accomplished in things domestic and he should have known better than to expect such of her. After all, he loved her because she was not conventional and he could not believe that he had been stupid enough to think that she would play maid to him simply because he now called her his wife. Of all people, he should have remembered that Julia was not made to run after a man and he knew he did not wish her to be that way.

"Do yourself a favor Ezra," Chris chuckled as he patted the gambler on the back, "get yourself a housekeeper."

Ezra’s response was corresponding laughter that showed his agreement with Chris’ statement. The two men walked into the saloon, locating the rest of their number whom were already at their usual table. Despite the fact that they now had families of their own, it was important for them to continue this ritual of sharing a few drinks together each evening. It reminded them that despite the years that had come and gone and the changes that had evolved their lives, they were still friends and would always be no matter what transpired. JD, Buck, Josiah, Nathan and Vin were already congregated around the table and Chris saw Buck signaling to Inez across the room to bring them two more glasses of whiskey.

"Thank God," Ezra sighed at the prospect. "I could use a drink."

However, Chris did not hear him. In fact, the gunslinger’s attention was no longer fixed on the six friends at the table but rather singularly focussed on the man who was standing by the counter. His entire being fused with tension as instincts that kept him for most of his life came into play with speedy intensity. His hand immediately went for his gun and the rest of the seven, with the noticeable exception of Vin Tanner, had not yet seen the caution in his eyes. Vin rose to his feet slowly, his gaze meeting Chris, aware of there being danger even if he was uncertain from whence it came. He only knew the look in Chris’ eyes and that was usually enough for Vin as his hand reached for the sawn off short gun at his hip.

Chris’ eyes were locked in mortal combat with that of the stranger at the bar, the stranger whose expression drained of color upon seeing him. The man was no one that Chris recognized but in the same way that he knew he was able to capture the attention of the room whenever he entered this man was able to ensnare his undivided interest in the same manner. Clad in a respectable dark suit mostly hidden beneath his dark duster, the man with the drooping moustache stared at Chris with nothing less than bald hatred. Intense blue eyes bore into Chris Larabee’s skin and for the first time in his life, the gunslinger flinched under a gaze almost as powerful as his own.

There was no time to think. The stranger’s guns were drawn but somehow, Chris knew immediately that shooting him wasn’t going to be enough. Whatever ills, this man though he had done, Chris knew that the stranger wanted to make him suffer. The rage in his eyes burned white hot and to Chris’ surprise that was something familiar in it, something Chris recognized even though he could not fathom what he had done to this man to earn so much black hatred. The man closed the distance between them as everything slowed to a crawl; Vin had raised his gun to fire, preparing to put halt the stranger in his tracks before he reached Chris. However, the discovery of a gunfight about to erupt, sent the room into a state of pandemonium with bystanders rushing for cover and intruding upon the sharpshooter’s line of fire.

Chris gun was drawn and he fired. The stranger moved almost as fast as him through the frantic movement of bodies attempting to escape. Screams impacted their ears but it did little to effect the momentum of the moment. For an instant of time, Chris was only aware of his gun discharging as he closed the distance between himself and the enemy. The stranger fired and Chris shifted position enough to ensure the bullet whizzed past his shoulder .He retaliated by firing again and saw the corresponding evasion carried out by his opponent who dropped enough to let the projectile fly past his ear before slamming into the glasses behind the counter. Chris did not react to Inez diving under the bar for safety because he was too busy pulling the trigger.

By now, those in the saloon were aware of whom the main players in the commotion were and a path cleared between them as Chris jumped over a fallen chair as his enemy pushed aside a table, sending glasses and whiskey in all directions. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Vin shouting to get down but Chris was beyond hearing. The enemy fired again and this time Chris felt the bullet graze the cloth of his sleeve, his skin felt its heat but remained unbroken. He fired in turn and saw the stranger weave just as expertly as he had, avoiding the shot. The gunplay between them was almost graceful although to those present, hearts were pounding with fear and anticipation as to whom would survive the encounter.

Chris did not know what he had done to inspire this rage that was coming towards him like waves of hellfire, he only knew that he had to stand firm or be swept away by its power and its power was fierce indeed. He had never reached a point in his life where had ever wanted to run or to think twice about rushing into a fight when it was time to do so but this occasion made him doubt, it made him wonder if he had not perhaps met the better man. He brushed the thought out of his mind, forgetting all that would hold him back, most prominently the wife and children that would be devastated by his loss. This was a game with expensive stakes and the minute he had unsheathed his gun, he had chosen to play.

The bullets flew past each man, not meeting their mark even though in skill they were matched and though one was confused, he was as singularly committed to staying alive as the other and so neither fell as they advanced. The space between them diminished rapidly and in an instant, it paused as suddenly as it had begun with each man staring down one another’s gun. It was like a meeting of two great storms that were on the verge of a violent and cataclysmic collision. Those watching could not intervene as both men faced each other in a contest as old as the West.

Chris found himself staring down the barrel of the enemy’s gun and in turn, his opponent faced the same view in the barrel of his peacemaker. The room was deadly silent now. The patrons of the Standish Tavern had left the premises in order to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Both men were breathing hard, gazes locked intensely as they did battle mentally as well as physically. Chris wondered who the man was even if he had noted the badge of a US marshal. His stance exuded the law unlike the men that Chris had previously encountered wearing the same appellation. This was not Top Hat Bob who had come gunning for Chris with one eye or some imposter attempting to lynch Vin.

This was the real thing.

The stalemate continued as the anticipation built to almost breaking point. Chris’ gun did not waver as it stood firmly in his opponent’s face, just as his eyes did not flinch from the dark steel of the gun barrel before him.

"Ringo," the man finally spoke, breaking the quiet that brought a rumble of confusion from the six friends who were witnessing what was transpiring but were at a loss over what to do.

"Who?" Chris stared back at him in confusion.

"Don’t take me for a fool," the stranger hissed. "Getting rid of your moustache and changing your clothes isn’t going to change who you are." His voice was like grated glass, low and menacing. "You can’t hide from me."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Chris responded. His mind reeling at the fact that all this could actually be a case of mistaken identity. It was almost laughable if the game were not so deadly and he poised upon the knife-edge between life and death.

"You’re Johnny Ringo," the stranger repeated himself with absolute certainty.

"I’m Chris Larabee," Chris retorted. Chris knew perfectly well who Johnny Ringo was. One could not live in the Territory and not know about the infamous outlaw who had once been the leader of the equally notorious ‘cowboy’ gang that had terrorized the West, stemming from the town of Tombstone. Of course, Chris had never seen the man himself and by all accounts neither had anyone else. Ringo had gone to ground to evade the relentless pursuit by legendary lawman Wyatt Earp. His eyes widened slightly at the realization.

Oh hell….

"Earp?" Chris exclaimed upon coming to the conclusion who he was engaging in a classic stand off.

"I’m glad you decided to give up this little act," Wyatt said coldly, seeing nothing but Johnny Ringo in the face before him even if the black clad gunslinger was dressed a little different. Was this how Ringo had managed to stay at large and so elusive for all this time? By disguising himself with an entirely different persona? "Chris Larabee is a lawman."

"You’re right about that," Vin Tanner spoke heard for the first time. "Here in Four Corners."

"He ain’t Larabee," Wyatt insisted without taking his eyes off Chris. "He’s Johnny Ringo!"

"Why do you keep saying that?" Chris demanded. "I AIN’T HIM!"

"JD," Vin stepped forward, trying to diffuse this situation before someone pulled the trigger and blew someone else’s brains out. "Go get Mary."

What?" Chris exclaimed but did not take his eyes off Wyatt’s gun. "What do you doing Vin! I don’t want my wife in the middle of this! JD stay where you are!"

The forcefulness of that demand froze the young sheriff in his tracks and he looked to Vin in confusion, unsure whether or not he ought to do as Vin ask or heed Chris’ orders.

"Wife?" Wyatt gasped, causing a crack to appear in the certainty of his features. "You have a wife?"

"And two sons," Vin answered before Chris could. "This man is Chris Larabee, I’ve been riding for him for the last four years. If you ask anybody in town they’ll tell you the same Marshal. This ain’t Johnny Ringo."

"You expect me to believe that!" Wyatt demanded but Vin’s words had clearly affected him. The absolute belief in his eyes was gone and now Chris found himself facing an enemy that was no longer as certain about his situation as he had been a short time ago.

"Most assuredly Mr. Earp," Ezra added his voice. "Myself and my five associates have been employed by the Territorial Judge in these parts to maintain law and order in Four Corners for the past four years. Mr. Larabee is married to the editor of the local paper and has two sons."

"This is insane!" Wyatt cried out, refusing to believe that he was wrong. He had not gone mad! He knew he was staring at Johnny Ringo. "I know what Ringo looks like and this man is him!"

"You’re saying Ringo looks like Chris?" Buck declared. "Look, Marshall that may be so but I’ve known Chris for longer than anyone. Hell we even served in the war together. If he was sneaking off playing Johnny Ringo, I’d know."

"Thanks Buck," Chris growled, not knowing whether or not his old friend had helped his case.

"Senor," Inez stood up from behind the bar. The lovely bartender had heard the conversation taking place and hoped that perhaps her earlier rapport with the lawman might allow him to believe the truth if she were to corroborate it.

"Inez get down!" Buck ordered horrified that she was exposing herself.

"Do as he says ma’am," Wyatt responded in agreement. "You don’t want to get messed up in this."

"Marshall," Inez ignored them both and continued nonetheless. "You’re a good man but you’re making a mistake. This man is not Johnny Ringo. Look at him, not with your anger but with your mind. Tell me that you are certain that the man before you is the one you seek because if you are wrong, then you are condemning an innocent man."

Wyatt sucked in his breath because the possibility that he might be wrong was something he could not ignore. He had spent his entire life protecting the innocent and as much as he wanted vengeance for the death of his brother Morgan, not even his rage against Ringo would allow him to betray everything that he stood for. He did as the woman asked because he knew people and he had a sense of her as being someone worthy of trust and he could tell instinctively that she was sincere in her request. He faced the man whose gun was poised before his eyes and saw the face that looked uncannily like Ringo’s if the words of those around him were to be believed and tried to find some semblance of the murderer who had taken his brother from him.

There was none.

Wyatt did not understand how this could be. The man before him wore Ringo’s face but his eyes were not the eyes of a killer.

"You look like him," Wyatt said after what seemed like an eternity of time and lowered his gun.

An audible sigh of relief flowed through the room upon his statement and a deep breath was in order for those who had been witness to the unfolding drama.

"I’m not him," Chris reiterated and dropped his gun to his side, glad that he was still standing and had not been forced to use it on the man before him.

"You could be his brother," Wyatt stated, wanting Chris to understand that he was not in the habit of accosting men in saloon, thinking they were Johnny Ringo. "Hell, not even his brother, his twin."

"Chris really look like Ringo?" JD asked fascinated by this whole thing.

For the first time since this all began, Wyatt’s gaze shifted from Chris’ to the young man who had asked the question. "Yeah," he nodded slowly, still a little shaken by what he had almost done. "If it wasn’t for this little lady here, I wouldn’t have thought twice about shooting him."

"Well she’s got a way of cutting through the crap," Buck said sliding a protective arm around his wife and giving Wyatt a clear indication of their relationship.

"I noticed," Wyatt swallowed thickly before facing Chris. "I’m sorry. You kind of caught me by surprise."

"I could say the same," Chris remarked, the tension easing slowly out of him as he sheathed his gun back into his holster. "But no harm’s been done and if I look as much like him as you say, I can understand why you might have acted the way you did."

Wyatt stepped away from Chris and the others and went to the bar. His bottle of whiskey had miraculously survived the gunfire and waited for him. The marshal did not look at anyone when he muttered softly, "that’s still no excuse."

And it was true. It was not. If he had killed Larabee then he would have been a murderer, no better than Johnny Ringo and wherever the outlaw was now, his revenge upon Wyatt would be complete. He would have turned Wyatt into the very thing he hated. For the first time since Wyatt Earp had embarked upon the quest to seek out Johnny Ringo, the Marshal was faced with the possibility that it might be time to stop.

Before he really did kill someone.

************

In a nameless town not too distant from where Four Corners was presently situated, Laurel Chase disembarked from the confines of the Concord in which she had been travelling for some days now. Despite Mr. Zhang’s insistent advice, she had left the sanctuary in Mexico that had been the venue for her convalescence for the past few months. Her face was a glorious as it had ever been with only a slight blemishes against the skin to indicate the injury it had suffered at the hands of Mary Larabee and Alexandra Tanner. In the months where she had remained behind the cloistered walls of the sanitarium, she had forgotten her effect on members of the opposite sex. She had always relied so heavily upon her beauty that the lack of it even for a time had done a good deal of damage to her usually unshakeable confidence.

However, the trip to this little town had been something of a revelation. As soon as she made her debut into the world once more, she was reminded of the power she had at her beck and call. Men stared at her like teenagers, stumbling over their words, attempting to charm her without much success. Their ineptitude did have one positive effect and that was to remind her how easily manipulated they were as a gender. By the time Laurel arrived at her destination, it was clear that to her there was no reason to doubt her power over them. With her confidence renewed, Laurel could not turn her attention to the very important task of destroying Chris Larabee and everyone around him.

She intended to deconstruct every aspect of his life, to bring it into utter chaos that he would consider it a pleasure when she finally chose to kill him. The slivers of delight that ran through her body as she imagined how satisfying it would be to destroy him gave her much incentive to court the danger that came with such an undertaking. However, Laurel was beyond caring. She had stood in the face of fear and she had prevailed, nothing would ever give make her afraid after that. The ordeal she had endured these past months had suffused the mettle of her being with a new strength and she was prepared to face anything.

Until she looked across the street from the sidewalk she had stepped upon, following her disembarkation from stagecoach and saw him.

At first, she thought she was mistaken. It could not possibly be Chris Larabee. Chris was home with his little wife, no doubt living the mundane life he craved with such desire even more than her, incredibly. However, she could not deny the resemblance was uncanny. Throwing caution to the winds, Laurel crossed the street in pursuit of the man, determined to have this riddle answered once and for all. Even though her mind kept screaming danger, that Chris was not a man she should be taking risks, there was apart of her that could not believe it was him despite the evidence of her eyes.

Yes, he looked like Chris but in every other way he was different.

He noticed her when she was about to step on the boardwalk. He had paused in his journey towards the saloon, captured by the vision of loveliness that was she, like every other man on the street. His lips curled into a smile beneath a heavy moustache and there was a dangerous sparkle flickered in his intense gaze as he ran his eyes over her with mounting interest. Laurel did not understand how this could because this man was in every physical way the twin of her hated enemy and the most desired object of her affections but he was not Chris Larabee.

He was something else, something dangerous that rode the edge of disaster and thoroughly enjoyed it. He did not care for morality or the mundane existence so craved by the other who also wore his features and when he looked at her, there was no thought of anyone else, no memory of a wife or a lover, just her. In his eyes, she saw the same unbidden desire to live life on one’s own terms and damn those who got in their way. She saw danger and menace, all wrapped up in an ruggedly handsome package wearing the face of the only man that Laurel had thought to be her equal until now.

"Who are you?" She asked as soon as she reached him, not waiting for him to speak.

"I might ask the same thing," he replied instead, his voice smooth and familiar but possessing none of the idealism or the emotion of Chris Larabee. It coldness was almost arousing to her.

"I’m Laurel Chase," she introduced herself, extending her hand to him.

He took it without question and pulled down her glove enough to expose skin. Then he pressed his lips to it so that he could taste her. "Ringo," he said huskily kissing her hand, "Johnny Ringo."

"Do you believe in fate Mr. Ringo?" She asked, arching her brow as she tried not to feel equally pleasured by the feel of his lips against her skin.

"No," he shook his head, "I believe in taking what I want."

"Really?" she smiled again, her eyes filling with suggestion. "Is that always easy to do?"

"Far easier than you think," he accepted her unspoken offer and took her hand in his.

"And what do you want at this moment?" She asked coyly, guessing accurately what was in his mind by the lascivious gleam in his eyes. In truth, she was rather eager to accommodate him herself. She was curious to learn all the differences between this man and Chris Larabee.

"At this moment," Ringo considered his words carefully because he had some idea of what this woman wanted to hear. "I want to be alone with you."

"A man who knows what he wants," Laurel smiled with pleasure, "should never be denied anything."

Part Two

Living Legend

It was quite something to be standing in the presence of a living legend and learning that the legend was nowhere equal to the reality.

Chris Larabee learnt this as he stared at Wyatt Earp who had drifted away to the bar of the Standish Tavern, looking clearly shaken by what he had almost done a short time ago. When they had stood before each other a short time ago, staring down the barrel of each other’s weapons, Chris had seen a man who was uncompromising in his principles, who was determined and relentless and would not ever submit to anything. He was someone that Chris admired even though it was likely that Chris would die when Wyatt pulled the trigger. Chris could well believe the stories about this man, about the good he had done over the course of his life that solidified his reputation as one who believed in justice and would defend it to the very last.

However, at this very moment, the legend standing by the counter, downing his whiskey with far too much practice than was comfortable for anyone witnessing it to admit, appeared weary and defeated. Something had broken inside of him the instant he had learnt Chris was not Johnny Ringo. The others could not see it but Chris could. He knew what it was like to feel that desolate and despite what occurred between them earlier, Chris felt for the man. He knew what it was like to crave vengeance, to be led down endless roads, always with the hope that perhaps this time, it would be different. When Ella had escaped, Chris had felt that way but for him there was closure because he had eventually caught up to the murderer of his wife and child. The same could not be said for Wyatt whose pursuit of Johnny Ringo indicated that for the brother lost, justice had yet to be done.

With the commotion now ended, a number of the patrons were returning to the saloon since it appeared that the worst was over. A few were motivated by curiosity to learn the outcome of the gun battle while others were so accustomed to the routine of violence, they knew instinctively when the danger had passed and it was safe to emerge once again. As the typically lively atmosphere of the saloon returned uneasily to the Standish Tavern, a vacuum had formed around the space occupied by Wyatt Earp. No one approached him save Inez who obliged him with another drink when he requested it but mostly, the other patrons left him alone.

"You okay?" Vin asked concerned, the tracker’s eye resting on the torn cloth of his duster where a bullet passed within a hair’s breadth from his skin.

"Yeah," Chris nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on Wyatt as the rest of his friends gathered around him.

"He was going to kill you," Buck Wilmington declared, staring at the lawman before meeting Chris’ eyes. "He really was going to pull the trigger."

"I can’t believe how many times we’ve ridden after Ringo with no idea," Josiah muttered with a shake of his head and his astonishment was mirrored by them all, Chris especially.

Chris had remembered the times when news reached Four Corners that the infamous outlaw was in the immediately locality and the seven had often ridden in search of the man in order to apprehend him. However, Ringo always managed to remain elusive and Chris did not know whether or not he ought to be grateful for that fact. How would it be to look upon someone who was your exact double? To see the dark reflection of one’s self in the eyes of another who could have so easily been him if circumstances had been different. There was no denying he was the mirror image of Johnny Ringo, not when Wyatt Earp had been willing to kill him based on the strength of his initial reaction.

"I suppose finding out this way is better than meeting him face to face," Vin suggested.

"You think?" Chris gave him a look because there was no ‘good’ way to find out that you bore an uncanny resemblance to a man by all accounts was a psychopathic killer.

"It was just a thought," Vin shrugged.

"Someone ought to go talk to him," JD suggested quietly as he stared at Wyatt. In truth, JD wanted badly to go up to the lawman and quiz him on all his extraordinary experiences, the gunfight at OK corral, his dealings with the legends like Bat Masterson and Doc Holliday but it did not appear as if Wyatt Earp needed the adulation right this minute. In fact, it appeared to JD that what Wyatt needed most was to talk to somebody and JD just knew that if he tried, he would say the wrong thing.

"He don’t look like he wants company right now," Nathan remarked, noting the glacial expression on the man’s face.

"I don’t know about that," Buck retorted, observing something else entirely in the man’s manner. "There’s a world of hurt under that badge. Maybe a good talking is what he needs."

Chris did not respond. Instead, he walked away from his friends and approached the lawman cautiously, wondering what Wyatt’s reaction would be at his arrival. The marshal eyes shifted just enough to let Chris know that he had been seen. Chris debated whether or not this was such a good idea, after all, Wyatt looked at him and saw Ringo. However, by the same token, Chris looked at Wyatt and saw a man who was at the crossroads and could go either way. Chris had been there once and if it was not for Buck, Lord only knew how things might have turned out.

"Inez," Chris glanced at the lady bartender and tapped lightly on the counter top for a drink.

She nodded slightly, noting that he intended to take the vacant stool next to Wyatt. Her expression showed concern but Inez had too much faith in him to question his actions. "Coming right up," she said with an uneasy smile.

"I’m sorry," Earp spoke after she had left them.

"It was an honest mistake," Chris replied, not knowing what else to say.

Wyatt turned to him and stared with astonishment. "I almost killed you." He pointed out.

"I know," Chris could not deny that fact. "But you didn’t."

"If it wasn’t for your friends and the lady, I would have," Wyatt insisted.

"But you didn’t," Chris reminded him, able to tell that the marshal was taking the mistake he had made very hard. "I’m still here."

"And why is that exactly? What do you want?" Wyatt stared at him. "I almost killed you and you’re being too damn civil about it."

"Cause I’ve been where you are," Chris met him straight in the eye and replied with no allusions, just plain brutal honesty.

"Oh and where is that exactly?" The marshal asked ambivalently.

"Looking like you could go either way," Chris retorted.

Wyatt faced front. "Damn you look like him," he muttered softly. "You even sound like him. Do you know how scary that is?"

"Not as scary as meeting him face to face," Chris confessed. "I don’t think I like the idea of Ringo looking like me. I’ve done enough things in my life that I ain’t too proud of. I don’t need to be mistaken for the things he’s done too."

"He killed my brother," Wyatt said shortly, hoping that explained his behavior. Because he had almost killed this man for Ringo’s crime, Wyatt felt the need to give him a reason for why he had almost taken Chris Larabee’s life.

Chris was aware of the history between Wyatt Earp and Johnny Ringo of course. One simply could not be in the know about things in the West without being aware of that fact. The story of how Wyatt Earp had gone to Tombstone with his brothers after finishing his work as lawman in Dodge City was well known throughout the Territory. Upon arriving at Tombstone, Earp had found the thriving town securely under the yoke of a gang of outlaws called the Cowboys. For a time in Arizona, the Cowboy gang had run supreme and there was no lawman left untouched in the whole state until Wyatt Earp. Wyatt’s justice had been brutal and swift because that was the only kind of lesson the Cowboys could understand. Following the infamous gunfight at OK corral, the Cowboys had exacted their vengeance by killing Wyatt’s brother Morgan and crippling Virgil. After that, Wyatt Earp went on a crusade to bring the Cowboys to justice.

Johnny Ringo was the last one still at large.

"I heard, but he’s never been here." The gunslinger replied, hoping the intelligence might give Wyatt some aid in his search.

"It doesn’t matter," Wyatt sighed lowering his glass. "I’m done."

Chris stared at him, "what?"

"I mean I’m finished." Wyatt repeated himself. "I’ve been chasing him so long I don’t know why I’m doing it any more. Is it justice or revenge? Revenge is a fool’s game. I won’t play it. I’ve put everything else on hold for too long, just trying to hunt him down. If I keep on, maybe I’ll catch him and maybe I won’t. The thing of it is, I don’t want to find out. Morgan," the marshal sucked in his breath at the mention of his brother’s name because even now, it was painful to speak about his dead sibling. "Morgan said he looked up to me because I wasn’t afraid of standing up for what’s right and I’ve tried to do that but if I won’t be if I keep hunting Ringo. Before he died, a friend told me to live because he couldn’t. I’ve got a woman waiting for me to be done with this chase and I’m gonna do her favor by walking away while I still can."

It was quite something to make an admission like that. Chris wondered if the tables were turned would he capable of making such a healthy decision. He recalled how he had been when he learnt that his family’s death was not accidental, that a human agent had been behind the tragedy. Until he was led to Cletus Fowler, he had been a man obsessed. When he had learnt that it was Ella that was responsible, he had been in such a stupor of shock, he had not managed to act in time to keep her from fleeing. In the end, it made little difference because the presence of Mary in his life had brought Ella out and it was Mary who had dealt with the woman once and for all. He had been so grateful to see Mary alive that he never considered how he had felt about being cheated of taking revenge himself.

"Sometimes that the best thing you can do," Chris offered. "I’ve been where you’re at and for a long time, it ate away at me."

"That’s why you’re standing here?" Wyatt asked with a little smile. "See to it that I’m not a lost cause?"

"Something like that," the gunslinger remarked.

"Thanks," Wyatt replied. "I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to knock some sense into me."

"Day’s early," Chris raised a brow. "And I don’t exactly see you burning a trail out of town just yet."

"I will," the marshal laughed. "I’ve got a long ride ahead of me."

"Where would you be headed?" He inquired as he downed his own drink.

"San Francisco," Wyatt replied quietly. Josephine was waiting for him in California and he did not intend to disappoint her. He also knew that if he lingered in Four Corners any longer than necessary, he might lose his resolve to end his quest and he did not wish that to happen, not when he was on the verge of putting all this behind him.

"I hear California’s nice this time of year," Chris commented.

"I do too," Wyatt responded, somewhat surprised that the weight he had felt pressing down against his chest did not feel as heavy now that he had reached this pivotal decision. In retrospect, he supposed the ease of his decision to move on had a great deal to do with the fact that he had doubted his quest for some time now. Being forced into a position where he had almost taken an innocent life had given him the push needed to make the choice. He wondered if he should thank Chris Larabee for being that impetus.

"I’ll be moving on in the morning," Wyatt stated after a pause. "I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you, what with trying to kill you and all." A hint of mischief crossed the marshal’s face.

"Don’t mention it," Chris grinned back. "You welcome to stay a spell. Ain’t no rush to see you leave, if that’s what you’re worried about."

"Thanks," Wyatt replied genuinely touched by the consideration offered by a man he had almost killed a short time ago. "It’s appreciated but I’ve got to get moving before I change my mind. Don’t know how long I’m gonna stay this sane."

"Take advantage of it while it lasts," Chris advised.

"I planned to," Wyatt replied finishing his drink and deciding that he had no taste for another. He reached into his coat and retrieved a few battered notes from his pocket before placing them on the counter. With that he turned away from the counter, glancing at Chris long enough to tip his hat in the gunslinger’s direction and remarking, "see you around Larabee."

"Likewise Marshal," Chris replied in turn even though they both knew it was the last time they would ever lay eyes upon each other again. Turning back to the empty shot glass before him, Chris did not need to look as Wyatt Earp made his way out of the saloon. Inwardly, he hoped that the marshal would be able to stick to his resolution to give up the quest for Ringo. He had a sense of the man in their brief meeting and he knew he would hate to learn that Wyatt Earp had come to a tragic end chasing down Johnny Ringo. As one who had burned with vengeance for so long, Chris knew how fruitless it could be and the best moments in his life had come about because he had managed to let go of that hate and move on. It was the best revenge he could have possibly inflicted on Ella.

After Wyatt had gone, Chris had ordered another drink from Inez and returned to the table where his friends were presently awaiting. They had stayed out of the conversation because Chris had not invited them to join him when he had approached Wyatt and the rest of the seven knew their leader well enough to see that some things needed to be said without the presence of an audience. It was clear that something positive had been achieved by the manner in which Wyatt had left the saloon since neither man had resumed hostilities and seemed to have engaged in civilized conversation.

"Everything okay?" Vin Tanner asked first. Predictably, he had been the first to speak Chris after the marshal’s departure.

"Yeah," Chris nodded slightly. "He’s leaving."

"Leaving?" Buck inquired. "Don’t tell me he’s gonna keep chasing after Ringo?"

"Well the man did kill his brother if the rumors are correct," Ezra interjected. "That sort of thing does tend to stick in a person’s mind."

"What happened Chris?" JD shook his head of their theories, wishing to hear from Chris himself of what had come of his conversation with Wyatt. JD could not deny that he was excited at the thought of being in the presence of Wyatt Earp but he had tried to use some maturity in restraining his eagerness to meet him. However, now that Wyatt was gone, JD found it hard to contain himself.

"He’s riding to California tomorrow," Chris answered, taking pity on JD before he burst from anticipation.

"California?" Nathan asked bewildered. "Ringo’s in California?"

"No," Chris replied automatically. "Wyatt’s lady is there. He’s going to join her."

"Well," Buck’s brow wrinkled in confusion. "Never let it be said that I don’t encourage a man and a woman getting together but I thought that he was chasing Ringo."

"Not any more," Chris announced. "He’s walking away while he still can."

"Walking away?" JD exclaimed, unable to imagine the great Wyatt Earp turning away from any fight. "You mean he’s just letting Ringo get away with it!"

"It takes a strong man to turn away from vengeance JD," Josiah reminded. "Not many people have the courage to do that."

"I guess," JD frowned. The others did not admonish him too much for his excitement. For all of JD’s maturity of late, he was still a young man and the folly of youth had not quite left him as of yet.

"At least one thing came out of this," Vin replied, facing Chris. As always, the tracker was thinking far ahead of them all and his concern had not abated even if Wyatt no longer chose to kill Chris. "We know that you look a hell of a lot like Ringo."

"You consider this a good thing?" Buck stared at the younger man in question.

"Yeah," Vin retorted. "At least if anyone comes after Chris for no good reason, we might have some idea why. They could think they’re coming after the wrong man just like Earp."

"I see Mr. Tanner’s point," Ezra agreed. "Those who make that mistake might not be as conscientious as the marshal. They may not stopped to consider they might have the wrong man, not until they had pulled the trigger."

"We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it," Chris said with a sigh. "Can’t be looking over my shoulder for threats I don’t know about."

"No you can’t," Vin agreed with Chris on that point but not with the fact that they should not be cautious nonetheless. "But that don’t mean they won’t come."

"And what about Ringo?" Nathan added his voice into the mix, perfectly aware of what Vin was alluding to. "Ringo’s been through this area a couple of times. Just because we ain’t seen him don’t mean he won’t be back. If he looks that much like you, he could ride straight into town without raising an eyelash because people would be tricked into thinking he was you."

"Are you proposing we find him?" Chris looked at the faces before him.

"It might be an idea," Vin replied. "Wyatt’s too close to this. When a man feels that personally about finding someone, they tend to miss things. We won’t."

Chris saw the determination in the tracker’s eyes and knew that Vin wanted to bring this man in before Ringo did something that made it impossible for the seven to ignore him or his existence Vin’s concerns were never to be taken lightly. His best friend had good instincts and Chris had learnt to rely on them because they usually kept him alive. If Vin decided that this needed dealing with it then Chris would oblige him. Inwardly, Chris could not deny that meeting his mirror image face to face was going to be disconcerting, just as disconcerting as it was for him to know that somewhere out there, a man was walking around wearing his face, especially when that man was Johnny Ringo.

"Alright," Chris conceded to the point Vin was trying to make, "if he’s in the Territory, we’ll find him. I kind of think that Ringo ain’t dumb enough to hang around where Wyatt can find him, he’s probably miles away from here."

*************

Within the hotel room of town not at all that far away from Four Corners, the musk of sex hung heavily in the air. Neither of them had left the room since they had stumbled into to it, a tangle of lips and arms, clinging on to each other as they were overcome by lust for something unattainable that was now in reach. For Laurel, she had the man she had always wanted and though he was not who she thought he would be, he was all that she had anticipated just the same. This was the Chris Larabee she had craved when she first saw him on the streets of Vesta City, unleashed and unconcerned about the moralities of life. Here was the uncontrolled force of nature that accepted his darkness, reveled in it as a matter of fact and took great exception to those who would try to convert him to any other way.

Their lovemaking had been passionate and brutal, an expression in pleasure and pain. It was the kind of coupling she had only managed to experience with Chris when she had addicted him to her Venom and yet in Ringo, nothing of the kind was needed. He had taken her hard and he matched her for intensity, a thing that delighted her to no end and kept her trapped within this room with him, forcing her to remain as they continued to ravage each other over and over again. In every way, Johnny Ringo looked like Chris. The lines of his body, the intensity of his eyes and even the tough mask he wore around his emotions. It was all there but it still was not Chris. There was an edge to Ringo, something that did not yield to anything or anyone.

And she thrilled in it.

"So," Ringo looked across the bed at the woman he had enjoyed for the last 24 hours within the confines of their hotel room, watching her naked form as they feasted on the meal brought to them by a rather embarrassed maid. "Am I as good as your Chris?" He teased, aware by the way that she had screamed his name several times during the night that Chris Larabee had been the last thing on her mind but masculine pride demanded he hear it from her own lips.

"You know better than that," Laurel smiled as she slid a piece of chicken into her mouth seductively. She chewed on it briefly and swallowed before responding again, "you are the way he should have been and now that I have experienced perfection, I will not ever crave for unfulfilled potential again."

"That’s good to know," Ringo smiled, resting his head against the pillow as he watched her lips moved and made a mental note to take her again, soon. "Tell me about him."

"Him?" She met his gaze.

"Larabee," Ringo replied, amusing himself in the surprise on her exquisite features. In all his life he had never had a woman like Laurel Chase. He had met whores who knew how to pleasure a man but to them it was a skill of the trade, to Laurel it was a God given talent and she did not like the genteel foreplay enjoyed by most women. She liked her sex rough and brutal. She enjoyed being handled, and wanted to be dominated by her partner. Fortunately, he could oblige her.

"Self righteous, arrogant and supremely confident in his ability to control everything," Laurel stated first because that was what she thought of Chris now that she had been in the company of Ringo. "He’s a lawman at a small nothing of a place called Four Corners where he rides with six men. The locals call them the Magnificent Seven."

"Really?" Ringo’s lips curled into an amused grin. "Go on," he urged, genuinely interested now.

"Well," she shrugged. "There’s a tracker that’s extremely attached to him, not to mention a wife and two children."

"He’s married?" Ringo asked somewhat surprised by that. The notion that there could be someone out there who looked just like him, with a completely different life, the stuff that all good fairy tales were made off, intrigued Ringo to no end.

"Yes," Laurel stared at him hard, not liking the interest shown in Chris’ marital state. "She’s a newspaper editor at the local paper. One of those forthright Christian women that tend to live on the good graces of propriety, very proper."

"Seems like he has it all," Ringo mused, watching her closely as she spoke about Larabee’s voice. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice as she spoke. Ringo smiled inwardly, unsurprised by Laurel’s reaction understanding her more than she possibly knew.

"I intend to take it all away," Laurel said coldly, uncomfortable at the way his eyes were boring into her. "He and his whore will pay for what they did to me."

Laurel had told Ringo about her encounters with Chris and Mary, how he had once been her creature and her prized attraction at the Arena when his six comrades rescued him and returned Chris to his wife. She had even told him about how she had planned to retrieve him, to tear his life apart so that he would have no choice but to come to her until it had all gone wrong and she had barely escaped alive not to mention with her looks intact. Laurel omitted the part the Venom had played in that episode, how her concoction had drawn out in Mary and Alex something wholly unexpected that had almost cost Laurel her life. He did not need to know that part of the story since it was likely that he would not believe her anyway. Sometimes even Laurel had trouble absorbing what had happened. However, she had no wish to see Ringo think less of her now that she had found him.

"Don’t make it personal," Ringo warned as he reached for the bottle that was resting on the side table next to the bed. After taking a good swig from it, he turned back to her. "You make mistakes that way."

"I don’t make mistakes," Laurel said coldly, disliking the fact that he thought her emotional.

"Sure you do darling," Ringo grinned took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to her mouth in a bruising kiss. For a few seconds, he tasted of her with relish, enjoying her reaction to his lips before pulling away once more. In the past few hours, Ringo had come to the firm conclusion that he might just love this woman but he would never be foolish enough to allow her the upper hand. If there was going to be anything between them, he would establish that all-important ground rule first.

"If you didn’t make mistakes you wouldn’t have almost gotten killed," Ringo pointed out with relish and enjoyed seeing her squirm. This was not a woman who accepted her frailties easily and yet to stay alive in the course that she had chosen, it was a survival trait she needed desperately. He himself had accepted his flaws and he knew his limitation. It was one of the reasons why he was still alive when all others in his life had perished.

As much as Laurel loathed admitting it, she had to begrudgingly agree that he was right on this point. She had underestimated Mary and Alex and the result had almost cost Laurel her much relied upon beauty. "I suppose you never make mistakes?" She stared at him with annoyance.

"Sure I do," he said nestling himself comfortably into the collection of pillows on the bed. "I left Tombstone cause I knew taking out Morgan Earp was a big one. Who knew that straight-laced marshal was going to go on the rampage? I high tailed it out of there for a good reason. Because a man out for blood is dangerous and no matter how good you think you are, its best to be out of his way until that fever burns itself out."

"I suppose," Laurel shrugged. "But I mean to have my revenge on Chris, one way or another."

"I can see that," Ringo looked at her still wearing that bemused expression on his face. As smart as she was, she was still so predictably female. They were always ruled by their emotions no matter how intelligent they may appear to be. Although Ringo spoke the lingo of a hardened gunslinger, in truth he was an educated man who had run the gamut of intellectual pursuits. The twists and turns of his life had brought him to his current situation but in truth, he had stayed alive because he had opted to keep his intelligence a secret, thus making him something of an unknown commodity when he faced the enemy.

Laurel was undoubtedly intelligent, borderline genius as a matter of fact but she was hindered by the totality of feminine passions and that made her vulnerable, despite what she thought of herself. No doubt much of her hatred towards Chris Larabee had to do with the fact that the man had rejected her advances. Ringo was certain that Laurel had enchanted every man she had ever met. There were those who probably would have given up everything for her and she was smart enough to use that power to her advantage. It must have been galling to meet a man who did not seem to want her like all the others. It was because of this rejection that she was so determined to have Chris Larabee.

After all, if he could escape her charm, who was to say others might not.

Ringo was not going to deny that he had fallen under her spell. At a time in his life where he was waiting for the bullet to claim him, she had been an unexpected surprise. He never believed a woman had the power to make him wish for life but Laurel had done that for him because he knew that she would always keep him amused. For Ringo that was enough to keep him in the mortal plane at least for a little while longer. He had a feeling that she could be an amusing distraction if he gave her the opportunity. However, the existence of Chris Larabee had given him a third option he had never considered until now.

"However, I got something else in mind, if you don’t mind indulging me a little." He remarked.

Laurel offered him a smile and let her hand glide under the sheets where she demonstrated with her skillful touch just how much she was willing to indulge him. "I suppose I could," she responded.

"Wyatt Earp has made it a crusade to bring me in," Ringo drawled lazily as he explained to her his plan and enjoying her touch at the same time. "I’ve been keeping one step ahead of him for some time now but one of these days I’m gonna run into him."

"He’ll never reach you Johnny," Laurel said confidently. "I have resources at my disposal that would protect you."

Ringo stiffened at the thought of her money solving his problems. He liked handling things his own way. "I had something else in mind," he retorted with just enough menace in his voice to tell her that he did not like her solution to his problem. "I ain’t got no problem with killing Earp and truth be known, I ain’t afraid of his catching up to me. But killing a lawman like Earp - that’s big trouble no matter how you look at it. Even if I walk out alive, there’ll be someone else to take his place and then someone else after that."

"I can see how that could be inconvenient," Laurel replied, wondering what his plan was because she was fairly intrigued now.

"What I got to do is convince Earp that I’m dead. That’s the only thing that will call him off." Ringo stated firmly, seeing that he had her undivided attention. "So what I’m proposing is a way to get what you want and to get what I want."

"What I want is revenge," Laurel stated firmly, wishing him to know that on this point there was no negotiation. It did not matter how engaging she found him.

"I didn’t say you weren’t going to get that," Ringo replied as if he were dealing with an impatient child. "For me to get Earp off my back, I’m going to need Larabee."

"You’re going to use him to throw Earp off your scent?" Laurel asked, supposing that would be an obvious use for the man if he was Johnny Ringo’s exact double.

"Something like that," Ringo nodded.

"That would hardly inconvenience Chris enough to be an adequate revenge," Laurel pointed out. "The man knows how to talk his way out of a situation and these lawman are notorious for sticking together through adversity."

"You ain’t telling me nothing I don’t already know," he said smoothly, anticipating the question. "I wasn’t intending on leaving Larabee alive long enough to talk his way out of anything. I just want to leave something behind for the marshal to find. If he finds a body that looks enough like me, he’ll call off his search and go back to that pretty girl of his in California."

"With nary a thought about Johnny Ringo again," Laurel nodded in understanding and finding that she liked the idea of Chris Larabee dying in the place of a killer. It seemed almost poetic really. "I like it."

"I’m glad you do," Ringo replied. "I’m gonna need your help to pull it off."

"That’s for sure," Laurel met his eyes. "Those six men around him will die before letting you harm him."

"That’s probably true but then there are ways around that too," he smiled grabbing her legs and pulling her to him. Sliding them around his waist, they met groin to groin, with arms wrapped around each other as their bodies now replenished from the momentary interlude was prepared for more passionate exertions once again.

"How so?" She asked before he claimed her mouth and lowered her into the sheets. His body pressing into her own and she could feel his growing hardness against her bare skin.

"Well," he pulled away from her mouth and started trailing kisses down her collarbone, "you keep saying how much I look like Larabee, maybe we ought to put that to the test."

"Test?" She closed her eyes, savoring the delightful sensations he was sending through her.

"Yeah," Ringo responded as he continued his torturous descent down her body. "Let’s see if his friends can tell the difference any better than you can."

"They’re not fools," Laurel managed to say through the sensuous pleasures coursing through her body.

"I didn’t they were," Ringo replied with a smile and she shuddered at his touch when he arrived at the most sensitive part of her body, his hands caressing her parted thighs. "But I’m a pretty good actor," he grinned before dipping his head and driving any further thought of Chris Larabee from Laurel’s mind.

**********

"I mean how do you do it?" Julia asked Mary Larabee across the kitchen table of the Larabee home. She eased back into her chair with a sigh, wishing the answer to her problem would surface in the cup of tea she was presently holding in her hand. Unfortunately, as calming as it was to the taste, it did not eliminate the problem occupying her thoughts at the moment. Mary, Alex and Julia had gone through an entire dish of apple pie discussing her argument with Ezra and the only thing conclusion that Julia had so far come up with involved Ezra being an insufferable prig. Unfortunately, since that was not about to eventuate any time soon, she was still left with something of a conundrum.

"Do what?" Mary looked at her mystified, having listened to Julia’s ramblings about what had happened between Ezra and her earlier today.

"Do what you do," Julia exclaimed with exasperation as she glanced at Mary who was presently feeding Mikey in the seat of his high chair. The child was happily consuming some concoction that might have been strained carrots as his mother patiently fed him, oblivious to the conversation taking place around him. "I mean you have two children – one of which is an infant, a job as newspaper editor and you manage to play housewife as well."

"Not without help!" Mary laughed and wondered if Julia remembered that at this moment, Billy was taking supper with Audrey and Lilith King. If it were not for the fact that her oldest son was occupied elsewhere, Mary would have had to deal with keeping an eye on two boys instead of one, making this little gathering they were presently enjoying quite impossible. Therefore Julia assertions that she managed to juggle all aspects of her life with ease was somewhat ludicrous. She was merely fortunate enough to have a wealth of friends who could help her, just as Julia did; though at the moment the woman’s anger was too intense to see it that way.

"I’m in the same boat that you are Julia," Alex remarked from her own seat. Sensing that she was in a something of a mood, Vin had wisely left her in the care of Mary Larabee, hoping by the time he came to collect his wife, her sour temperament would be gone. "I feel as if I can’t manage anything any more. Vin won’t even let me ride Phoebe on my own."

"Well you are pregnant," Mary pointed out as she listened to the two women exult in the wrongs of their present circumstances. "You’re into your fifth term and by definition you do more than you should already. Women in your stage of pregnancy should not be traipsing around the countryside playing doctor."

"I am a doctor," Alex frowned. "Its what I do. Its what I’ve always done! I can’t stop being it even though I’m going to have a baby!"

"Uh Oh," Julia glanced at Mary with concern, "she’s starting to get upset, get more pie."

"Very funny," Alex gave her a look. "And you want me to feel sympathy for you not being able to wash a bunch of shirts?" The doctor said sarcastically but nevertheless took the last piece of pie left in the dish and began scooping dollops of cream onto to it. After all, arguments aside – it was still pie.

"It’s not the shirts," Julia growled, her green eyes blazing with annoyance over the whole issue. "I work. I work very hard. Now, what comes out of the saloon is adequate but since Ezra shares the profits with Inez down the middle, a situation I have no difficulty with mind you, in all truth he cannot support the lifestyle we are both accustomed to. My house costs to upkeep and yes we have money thanks to the Emporium but the Emporium does not run itself, I have to be there to do it. I cannot stop working to run after him like some house maid."

"Julia," Mary placed a hand on the younger woman’s arm to calm her from becoming even more agitated. "I’m sure he does not expect that."

"You should have heard him this morning!" She exclaimed. "He stood there expecting me to wash his shirts! I mean in almost two years we’ve been together, he’s never even made mentioned of something like that! I just could not believe it."

"Well Ezra is kind of prissy in that way," Alex pointed out, suddenly grateful that she never had such difficulty with Vin. As it was, she had caught him several times attempting to wash his clothes in the same trough he used to water his horse much to her horror.

"Ezra is not prissy," Julia said coming immediately to her husband’s defense though he did not deserve it. "He’s a southern gentlemen and you know how they are."

"Prissy," Alex smiled. "Look I’m not taking a shot at Ezra okay," she quickly explained herself. "I mean I live with a man who looks like he’s come off the trail on the best of days. However, Vin is not Ezra and you two are not exactly frontier material. I mean in the south, the woman’s role in the household is clearly defined, she takes cares of stuff like clothes and cooking. I don’t have that problem with Vin because he’s used to doing things for himself. I mean right now, he hates the idea of me doing anything but even under normal circumstances, he doesn’t expect me to look after him. He leaves the house to me most of the time and helps when I ask."

"And Chris has been married before," Mary chimed in as she wiped a smear of carrot from Mikey’s lips and was rewarded with a gurgled smile. "He knows what its like to be a father and a husband, what it takes to run a house hold and how sometimes it needs both of us to make it work. You wondered how I do everything that I do? Well I don’t do it on my own that’s for certain. Chris helps a good deal when he can. I do cook and I do wash but while I’m doing those things, he looks after Mikey and Billy. He gives me a couple of hours of his time because the ranch can manage without him with Buck and Vin there. Of course when there’s trouble as there always is in Four Corners, then I let Rain or Casey baby-sit while I do what I have to. There’s not special trick to it. It’s just a matter of management."

"So you’re telling me Ezra is behaving like a pig because he doesn’t know better?" Julia stared at them both incredulously.

"Of course!" Alex stated firmly. "He told me once that his mother left him with every relative she could think of when he was a kid so I’m guessing that even though he wasn’t wanted, he was taken care of. However, he was never around long enough to understand how a household functions, to know the dynamic of what needs to be done to make a house a home."

"That’s true," Julia agreed recalling what Ezra had told her about his childhood. It was not a happy experience for him because he was often passed along from family to family until Maude had exhausted all their patience and he was forced to travel with her while she purportedly taught him a trade. After that it was traveling from one hotel to another, searching for the perfect game and the con, with maids and servants who often took care of his needs once the proper monetary incentive was provided. "I suppose he’s never really had a home to know better," Julia mused, realizing that perhaps Ezra was not the complete moron she thought he was when she had first arrived at the Larabee home.

In truth, she hated fighting with him. They had waited so long to be married, what with the recent trials they had been facing that Julia had started to fear the day may never come. However, until this morning that is, the early days of their matrimonial state had been utter bliss. She loved being his wife. She loved waking up in the morning next to him. She supposed that she should have considered what it meant insinuating him full time into her life after all, their illicit affair over the past two years was nothing in comparison to the reality of living together as man and wife. It was a great change in both their lives and like her, Ezra was feeling his way through the dark. Julia conceded that it was fair that they would stumble every now and then. After all, no marriage was pure bliss. If it were, how would one truly appreciate the good times?

Still they did have a problem and she was not about to deal with this issue once again. Mary and Alex were right, Ezra had behaved as he did because he had no idea how a household was run because he had never had one to learn. She on the other hand had belonged to a stable home for many years and as she recalled how her father’s large estate was managed, found herself arriving at the solution to her problem with surprising speed.

"That still doesn’t let him off the hook though," Alex reminded noticing that Julia’s anger had waned. The devil in her would always enjoy provoking the titian haired beauty. Perhaps it was a throwback to the animosity of their initial meeting, whose meat had little substance now after so many years of friendship but still allowed Alex to enjoy immensely beguiling the Emporium owner.

‘No it doesn’t," Mary agreed as she rose from the table briefly to drop Mikey’s empty plate into the basin where her dishes were washed. "Imagine demanding it of you! I’m rather surprised Ezra did not try charm first."

"Well you know how he is in dirty clothes," Alex winked at the newspaper editor.

"I do know," Julia said sweetly. "And I have the solution at hand," she smiled triumphantly and reached for the pot of tea in the center of the table.

"And that is?" Mary asked as she sat back down at her seat, this time liberating a rather relieved Mikey from his high chair to the more comfortable position on her lap. As she did so, Alex refilled her cup dutifully.

"I need a housekeeper." Julia declared firmly.

"A housekeeper," Mary nodded in approval of her suggestion. "I think you’re right. You certainly don’t have to the time to cook and clean after Ezra and to be honest, I can’t picture you playing the role of laundress and cook anyway"

"I’ll try not to take it as an insult," Julia deadpanned. "Question is, how do I find one? They don’t exactly fall out of the sky."

"Are you talking about someone you want to come around every day or someone who’s gonna share the same roof?" Alex inquired, drawing her attention briefly away from Mikey at whom she was amusing by making funny faces, much to the child’s delight.

"I don’t know," Julia responded, somewhat taken back by the question. "I guess I’m not sure."

"Well I personally think you need someone there all the time," Mary replied. "It would certainly make it easier for you to cope with things unexpected. I mean what’s Ezra going to do when you have to go away for a few days to Eagle Bend or Sweet Water for those buying trips of yours? If he’s that useless while you’re there, can you imagine what state he would be in if you were actually gone?"

"Yes," Julia nodded, "the thought does frighten me. Still how do I go about finding someone?"

"Why my dear," Mary wink a lash in her direction, "you merely place an ad in my paper. Detail exactly what you want and ensure that you have references that can be checked and your problem is solved."

"That could take days," Julia sighed. "What am I going to do in the meantime?"

"That’s simple," Mary retorted shaking her head. "Simply pays who does your laundry now a stipend to increase her workload."

"I suppose that would work in the interim." She conceded. "Still, I should make him suffer."

"Oh make him grovel a bit and when he does forgive him," Alex laughed. "Besides, you are newlyweds you know. You’re sure to have teething problems."

"I don’t seem to recall you having these kinds of worries when you were first married," Julia pointed out.

"Well I didn’t go marry myself a southern gentlemen," Alex replied with her chin raised high. "I settle for the wild and woolly kind."

"Amen to uncomplicated frontier types," Julia raised her cup and was joined by Alex’s in something of a toast to the absent Vin Tanner. "By the way, have you two been thinking up names for the baby yet?"

"Oh yes," Alex nodded, her face bursting into a radiant smile of pleasure as her hand instinctively rested on her swelling abdomen. "At the moment we’re thinking Christopher if it’s a boy and Samantha or perhaps Yasmine after my mother."

"Your mother’s name was Yasmine?" Mary’s brow was raised. "My, that’s terribly exotic."

"Sort of like my mother, if I recall correctly," Alex volunteered. "It derived from the Jasmine flower but I kind of like Samantha though."

"Samantha," Julia mused. "I’ve always been partial to Penelope myself but Samantha’s nice, you could call her Sammie or Sam."

"Well Vin’s still hoping for a boy," Alex declared. "I think he’s scared silly about having a girl mostly because he has this dumb notion that he wouldn’t have a thing to teach a girl."

"Oh men!" Mary shook her head in disgust. "Why do they always think such stupid things like that!"

"I know, I know," Alex chuckled. "I mean I told him my father taught me most of everything I know and if we have a girl, she’ll probably be running after him more than me, especially if she takes after me but he still thinks he’d have nothing to teach a girl."

"Well Buck was the same way," Mary pointed out, reminding them of how anxious Buck had been when he had been faced with the possibility of having a little girl. Fortunately when Elena Rose was born to the world, the former ladies man was nothing but delighted at having a daughter. "I’m sure Vin will come to his senses once little Samantha or little Chris is born."

Alex was about to respond when they heard the front door opening down the hall before Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner made their entrance into the house. Naturally the conversation reverted to more innocent discussions about who was doing what at the next Sunday social. This fooled neither Vin nor Chris of course, but both had been married long enough to have the sense to keep that knowledge to themselves.

"Ladies," Chris greeted with a slight tip of his hat that was corresponded by similar gesture from Vin. He moved towards Mary and planted a small kiss on his wife’s lips before he liberated his son from her lap. A rakish grin cross his face as he held his son in his arms, a picture that made everyone present feel warm and sentimental.

"Hey darling," Vin pulled up a chair next to his wife. "You ready to ride back home?"

"Just about," Alex smiled sweetly at her husband, unable to deny that it was good to see him. "I’ve eaten Mary and Chris out of house and home."

"Well not quite," Mary laughed. "But she did try."

"You’re so funny," Alex glared at her with mock anger.

"Chris," Mary looked at him. "I heard there was trouble at the saloon? Is everything all right? I wanted to go over there but I didn’t want to leave Mikey alone."

At the time of the shooting, Julia and Alex had yet to arrive and Mary had found herself confined in her house with no intelligence of what was transpiring. Fortunately, Gloria Potter dropped in and mentioned whatever altercation had taken place at the saloon, seemed to have righted itself with no casualties and put Mary’s mind at ease. It was the one thing she hated about having to care for an infant, not being able to see what trouble was brewing beyond the walls of her home, especially when her husband was the law.

"Just a case of mistaken identity," Chris replied, downplaying the situation a great deal because he did not wish to worry her. Besides, he would rather explain it to her when they were alone. "No one was hurt and everything is okay." He gave her a reassuring smile.

"I suppose Ezra is still at the saloon then?" Julia said stiffly becoming decidedly uncomfortable by the expressions of domestic bliss around her. It only served to drive home the memory of her quarrel with Ezra earlier that morning.

"Yeah," Vin and Chris exchanged glances, guessing that the lady was probably missing the gambler about as much as Ezra was feeling badly about what had happened between them. "Looking kind of miserable too."

"So he should," she muttered under his breath.

"Come on Julia," Chris stared her way with those all seeing and all knowing eyes which only served to infuriate her because he knew precisely how she was feeling even though she feigned indifference to Ezra’s misery. "He feels really bad about what happened."

"He told you?" Julia groaned in embarrassment. "Great, now the whole world knows I can’t wash a shirt."

"You told us," Alex pointed out somewhat confused.

"Yeah but that’s you!" Julia exclaimed. "You tell us all that time that you think that buckskin coat of Vin stinks if it isn’t washed properly but that never goes any….further…..until… right….this…." Julia drifted off realizing that she had inadvertently given away Alex’s main peeve with her husband.

"Oh thanks a lot a lot Mrs. Clarion News!" Alex barked.

"You really think my coat needs a good wash or else it stinks?" Vin stared at his wife.

"Okay," Chris spoke up before more chaos erupted. "Enough. Julia," Chris looked at her seriously. "Ezra was sorry when I talked to him and don’t worry, it will never leave this room that you can’t wash a shirt, although Vin I’m sorry but the stuff about your coat ain’t exactly a secret." The gunslinger chose to end that statement with a devilish smile.

"Hey!" Vin’s reaction made his smile even wider.

"That’s very helpful Christopher," Mary gave him a reproachful look.

"Well they don’t call me the boss for nothing," Chris grinned.

**********

Ezra Standish peeked past the front door of his house with caution, wondering how he was going to face his wife after their angry exchange this morning. At this time, all he could think to do in order to mend the fences between them was to grovel copiously and hope that the suggestion he offered to their problem would be enough to set things right. He hated fighting with Julia even when it was merely a lover’s tiff. However, on this occasion he felt particularly guilty because on further reflection, he had come to the conclusion that Julia had behaved the way she had because she had assumed that things between them were as they always were. Why shouldn’t they remain the same? After all, it had been good enough to bring them to this point in their relationship.

Upon entering the house, he peered cautiously up the hallway, hearing the sounds of life emanating from the parlor. Sucking his breath, he resolved himself to march right up to Julia and do whatever it took to make her forgive him. He loved her dearly and the matter of unwashed shirts was not going to be the cause of a rift between them,, not when they had endured so much together. He should have known better than to expect what he had from her. After all, that was not why he had fallen in love with her. It was her differences that had snared his heart and upon further thought, he had no right to try and change her. She had certainly never demanded the same from him.

"Ezra," Julia called out as she started out of the parlor upon hearing his approach.

"I’m here," Ezra announced himself as they met face to face in the hallway.

For a moment, they merely stared at each other, trying to put aside the ugly memory of their last time together. Ezra could see that Julia was still upset about it and he himself felt the same distaste for what had transpired between them. "Julia," he started to apologize, determine this enmity between them would end before it became more.

"I’m sorry Ezra," Julia declared before he could.

"Oh my dear!" He exclaimed with just as much gusto and embraced her warmly, "I am the one who should be sorry! I had no right to expect such mundane tasks from you!"

"On no its alright," she quickly replied when they had parted, happy that he was feeling the same guilt about this whole situation as she. "I haven’t gotten used to the fact that I’m no longer alone in this house, I should have thought about you too!"

Suddenly they each paused and gave one another long stare before the humor of the situation dawned upon them and they both started laughing. Within seconds, Ezra had his wife in his arms again, holding her as if they had never fought as viciously as they had this morning. God, he loved her.

"I’ve been thinking…" Julia started to say.

"We need a housekeeper," Ezra finished of the statement and they found themselves staring at each other once more with the same expression.

Before laughing again.

Part Three

Consort

Laurel was not entirely comfortable with showing herself or tipping her hand to quickly in her desire for revenge against Chris Larabee but Ringo was determined to take a look at the gunslinger, wishing to see the man upon whom he was gambling so much. Laurel who have preferred to wait a few days, until she moved the pieces of her plan into action before giving Chris any idea that she was about to strike. However, Ringo was adamant on this point and as she was starting to learn as she lingered in his company, he was also impatient. He did not fear Chris and so he did not see the need to wait. If fate deemed it necessary they would meet, then so be it. Nothing would change the outcome.

For a man as intelligent as he, it sometimes bewildered Laurel how he could come to such fanciful conclusions. Laurel could not bring herself to trust fate on anything. She existed on the comfortable belief that she was master of her own destiny. Allowing fate to control one’s existence was to believe that she was not in control and for Laurel, nothing could be worse than never being in control of one’s life. Ringo however seemed to enjoy riding the random tides of his life, as if the surprise was worth the trouble it often wrought. His feelings towards Chris were the same way although Laurel felt some trepidation at Ringo’s blasé attitude towards the gunslinger.

Chris Larabee was still a formidable enemy despite his self-righteous arrogance and as much as she hated him, she was begrudgingly forced to admit that any action taken against him had to be done so with extreme caution. She also knew for a fact that she was the one person for whom he would have little difficulty in discarding his strict morale code in favour of killing her and if he did not, Vin Tanner would. Her especial hatred of the tracker who stood loyally at Chris’ side had led her to inflict upon him the excesses of her cruel vengeance. On almost two separate occasions she had almost killed him and while Chris might debate the moral implications of killing her, Vin Tanner almost certainly would not. The tracker saw the world in black and white and she definitely came under those categories where decisive action would be taken. In some sense, he was almost as dangerous as Chris if not a little more because he seemed to be more balanced than the gunslinger.

None of this seemed to concern Ringo because he was confident that he could handle anything or anyone that Chris might choose to throw his way. After all, he had faced Wyatt Earp no less and had come away with his skin intact. What was to fear from seven men in a small frontier town? The more she insisted that they take caution, the more his interest was inspired and he wished nothing but to see for himself what she worried about so. For once in her life, she found herself facing a man who was just as determined and blindly ruthless as she. Laurel did not know whether or not she ought to be happy about this.

Ringo intended to visit the town of Four Corners, an act that in itself posed something of a problem. He could not enter the town without everyone noticing he looked like Chris Larabee and while only the seven and a handful of people knew what she looked like, Laurel had no doubt that should she attempt to Four Corners, she would be just as visible as he. Ringo assured her that he had a plan and she did not need to worry about being discovered by any of the seven. She wondered how he could be so certain about this but unfortunately, he was not about to reveal his plan yet. He would give her that cocky smile and then distract her with more love making whenever she asked.

So now she was following him to Four Corners, despite her better judgement, unable to believe that she had fallen under the spell of a man with such totality that she was going to do this fool thing. Any man before, not even Chris had never swayed her. As much as she enjoyed him, she knew when to cut and run. Ringo was not giving her the chance to do that. He took her breath away with each tryst and his viciousness was sinister and understated, like the shark that swims in the shallows. She was drawn irresistibly to the menace about him, like two dark star feeding off each other for strength. Perhaps one day he would kill her and perhaps she might do the same to him. The excitement in their relationship was in discerning how it would come to that end and to enjoy their insanity before it happened.

"My lady," Zhang announced himself after he had entered the room at her beckoning.

"Zhang," she pointed to the luggage in the centre of the room. Ringo insisted they travel without coaches and so Laurel had purchased herself a surrey, which she would used to make the trip. "You may take those bags."

"So we are going to Four Corners," Zhang inquired uneasiness in his brutish expression.

"I believe we discussed this earlier," she straightened the hat on her head and looked at him. "We will be in the vicinity, not necessarily in the town limits."

Zhang shrugged, clearly unhappy. The man was accustomed to holding his tongue around his mistress but the effects of this latest paramour concerned him. Johnny Ringo was a dangerous man, not merely to those around him but also the Lady. Zhang did not like him much and he could tell by the look in Ringo’s eyes that he would not have difficulty rushing into his own death and taking everyone with him in the process, not even the woman Zhang had sworn to protect.

"Speak your mind Zhang," Laurel said impatiently, sensing the disquiet in the Chinese man’s expression.

"I think this is a mistake," he pointed out bluntly.

"Do you?" Laurel’s brow cocked up in surprise that he had been so forthcoming. Her mercurial features hid her outrage at his audacity to question her decisions. She had killed men for less. The only reason he still lived was because their relationship was long and it had earned him some liberties with her. "Why do you say that? Ringo does after all have a plan."

Zhang was dubious that any such plan would not be without its risks. Ringo did not strike him as someone who took into account the safety of those with him He was a man used to riding the edge of disaster and thoroughly relishing the danger that might befall him. Zhang feared that despite Ringo’s obvious attraction to Laurel, Ringo’s baser instincts would not prevent that affection from placing her life in danger and that was something he could not allows as her bodyguard.

"My lady I have followed you for many years," Zhang spoke after a long pause, apparently having worked up enough courage to continue with expressing his concerns now that he had crossed the line of what was permissible between them. "I have watched you with many ‘companions’," he used the word delicately to indicate her many paramours in the past. "You have always had considerable influence with them because they were weak men which you were accustomed to having bend at your will but this man, this Ringo – he is different. I fear that you are unable to control him as you have the others and he is far too reckless to be deemed safe to follow."

"Is that right?" Laurel stared at him, her eyes blazing in fury. "I shall keep my own counsel on whom is adequate company for me Zhang."

"My lady, it is too dangerous for you to go to the home of Larabee. He will know you the instant you enter the town." Zhang implored, attempting to make his usually intelligent mistress see the danger that was plain to him. "If you go, you may not escape as you did last time."

"The last time is exactly that!" Laurel exploded, enraged by his claims that she was not in fully control of her situation or that she was under the spell of a man! "Do not presume to think that I do not know what I am doing. I am aware of the danger in going to Four Corners but I am also capable of taking precautions. Have I not done so in the past few years?"

"Yes," Zhang stammered, conceding that much. However, he genuinely feared the power Johnny Ringo had over his employer. "It’s just that…."

"Just what?" She hissed, wondering what other words he would say to deepen this knife wound between them.

"He is not like the others," Zhang muttered, deciding that perhaps to reach his lady, he might have to reveal what he feared so much about Ringo.

"Trust me," Laurel retorted. "I am aware of that?"

"Are you my Lady?" He asked pointedly. "Are you truly aware of what he is? You have become more attached to him then I have ever seen you and perhaps your judgement is clouded."

Laurel stiffened, "Zhang, your years of service allow you only so much latitude and I am informing you that you are stretching what you have left of my patience to its limits. Make yourself clear."

"He is not afraid to die," Zhang answered after a moment, knowing that his credibility hung in the balance of his making a penetrating argument. "He is a man who will do as he pleased because he could not care less if he lives or dies. I fear that when he goes to Four Corners, it will not matter to him what the outcome will be when he faces Larabee."

Laurel stared at Zhang for a few seconds, more than prepared to dismiss him but she could not deny that in this he was correct, despite how much she might loathe to admit it. Ringo did have something of a wild streak running through him and his determination to go to Four Corners concerned Laurel to no end but she was not about to make that admission to Zhang. She would control Ringo just like all the others before him, she thought defiantly to herself; it only required a different approach. If he wanted to go to Four Corners she could accept that but if he attempted to get in the way of her vengeance then no matter how engaging he was, she would kill him.

"You do not have to worry," she turned her steely eye to her loyal servant. "I am keeping a close watch on him. He will not put us in an unfortunate situation Zhang," her voice was imperiously confident. "If he jeopardises our safety, you have my leave to kill him, not matter how engaging he might to me."

Zhang nodded slowly, reassured by his lady’s statement and hoping that when the time came, she would adhere to her own words.

************

Outside in the corridor, Ringo listened with a little smile.

He was not surprised by the conversation and guessed that the China man would have objections to them travelling to Four Corners. In truth, he was not really going to Four Corners. A woman like Laurel would be too easily noticed. Of course, he was not telling her they were in actual fact going to a hole in the wall place called Purgatory. He was certain that a lady of her stature would have objections to frequenting a place where the favours of a woman was almost a form of local currency. Despite her viciousness, she liked her luxuries and in comparison to where they were going, the town they were presently occupying looked like Paris. If she was forewarned, he had no doubt she would resist and rather strenuously at that.

It amused him that she thought she could control him. Ringo was almost tempted to let her try but even as he was toying with the idea, he knew it was not a wise one. She was accustomed to having everything her own way and destroying those who would not obey. He relished the dark within her but he was not so foolish to underestimate. She might have been the most perfect specimen of femininity that he had ever encountered but she was as ruthless as he was. However, she had no the inclination that she was lacking something vital in her makeup, to her it was just the power to live as one pleased. She did not understand the truth that like her; she had been born without a soul.

There was an emptiness inside of them from its absence that both of them had tried desperately to fill, be it by death or causing suffering on a scale that staggered the faint hearted. Ringo had no doubts that when she had met Chris Larabee, this supposedly brighter version of himself, she had thought that she had met someone worthy for her. Ringo chuckled as he continued down the hallway of the hotel, making his way to the lobby.

How wrong she had been.

All Chris had done was prepare her for Ringo. Ringo knew that he was caught in Laurel’s spell. He adored her even though he did not speak it and he never would because that would give her too much power over him and nobody would ever have that kind of advantage over Johnny Ringo. She was his soul mate; of this he had no doubt. However, he would never allow her the upper hand. She believed he could be controlled, perhaps it was best if he let her think that for now. After all, it might be useful later on. If all went well, they would be spending a good many years together.

All thanks to Chris Larabee.

***********

Unaware of the storm coming for them, the lawmen known as the Magnificent Seven went about their business as always. As promised, Wyatt Earp had left town the next day, bound for California. Chris made it a point to be present as the famous marshal left town and as he bid the man adieu, he knew that Wyatt Earp would die in his bed someday, not chasing down Johnny Ringo. He had come away from the encountered pleased that he had been able to help someone steer away from the path of disaster. It brought him full circle so to speak, since he was once in the same position as the marshal, though when he looked at his family, both in blood and friendship, it was hard to imagine that he had ever been that man who was so ready to die.

The town seemed relatively quiet and with JD, Josiah, Nathan and Ezra remaining in Four Corners to ensure that if trouble did arise, Four Corners would have the benefit of at least four of its guardians. In the meantime, Chris’ plans involved the ranch and the new acquisitions that he and Vin had acquired at the horse sales in Eagle Bend the week before. They would need breaking in and since Vin liked to stay close to home to ensure that Alex did not do anything foolish during her pregnancy as hot headed doctors with more spirit then sense tended to do on occasion, Chris decided to help him with the task.

"Do you want me to take Billy with me?" Chris asked as he sat at the breakfast table where his wife was presently dispensing a hearty morning meal to her family.

Mary looked up briefly, showing no signs of a woman who had too much on her plate and could not cope. Billy was amusing his little brother on the high chair with the toy horse he had spent the better part of a week whittling. Although Mikey was too young to play with it mostly used it to gnaw with his gums, it was obvious he appreciated the gift more when his older brother was there to animate it for him. "I don’t have that much planned today," Mary confessed. "But Billy can go with you if he likes."

"What do you think pard?" Chris glanced at his son, whose attention was taken momentarily from his younger brother at the mention of his name.

"Me and some of the kids are going to the creek," he said meekly, hoping his stepfather would not mind it if he turned down the offer.

Inwardly, Chris was glad that Billy was making friends with children his own age. As it was the child’s only friend that he knew of to this point, was Lilith and while he had no problem with that, he was glad that Billy was widening that select circle. "That sounds nice," Chris replied, giving the boy a little smile to reassure him that he was no offended.

"Thanks Chris," Billy beamed back at him with pleasure before returning his attention to Mikey once more.

"How did it go with the Marshal?" Mary inquired as she lowered herself into the seat next to his.

"Good," Chris said meeting her gaze. "I think he’ll be okay."

"I would have loved to have interviewed him," Mary sighed, disappointed by the lost opportunity because the man was an honest to god living legend.

"I doubt you would have gotten two words out of him," Chris remarked, sipping coffee. "He didn’t strike me as the interview type."

"Probably not," Mary agreed with resignation. "I know what you hardened gunmen are like." She teased.

"You do huh?" Chris chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his wife.

"Oh get a room!" Billy groaned. "I’m just a child!"

"Billy?" Mary stared at her son in shock. "Where are your manners."

"Isn’t there manners about kissing at the table," the young boy replied as his hands covered his younger brother’s eyes. "You’re gonna scar Mikey forever."

Chris started to chuckle but Mary looked at him reproachfully. "Chris, you should not be encouraging him."

"What you think he was going to stay sweet and polite forever?" He gave his wife a look.

"No," she stammered, "but I had hoped."

"Our boy’s growing up Mary," Chris glanced at Billy who was smirking at them.

"Wonderful," Mary rolled her eyes. "I’m thrilled."

Chris eased back into his chair, wondering if Mary knew how much he enjoyed breakfast with his family like this. When he had been with Sarah, Chris had taken such moment for granted. Never would he make that kind of mistake again. If there was one thing he had learnt from losing them it was cherishing the tiny pleasures like this. When he had lost his family, it was all that had kept him from going on while at the same time torturing him. Chris shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy and the anxiety that came with thinking about such things, aware that it only heightened his fear about the life he shared with Mary coming to the same tragic end. Chris would rather die than let that happen but Fate did not always give one a choice.

Suddenly the door to the kitchen flung open with JD Dunne striding into the house, with a purposeful expression on his face. Something in his eyes immediately sent alarm bells through Chris and when Mary saw his expression harden, she knew instinctively that anything that caused that look on his face was reason to worry. Chris stood up with his eyes fixed firmly on JD as the younger man suppressed his desire to blurt out what was on his mind in deference to Mary and Billy. Even though Mary was accustomed to hearing bad news, JD was uncertain whether or not Chris would want her hearing this. Unfortunately, knowing Mary, the gunslinger would have little choice in the matter.

"Hey Billy," JD greeted Billy first upon reaching the table. "You want to do me a favour and take Mike out to the parlour for a bit? I need to talk to your mom and Chris."

Despite his casual tone, Billy knew that it was not a request to be disobeyed when JD asked. Upon seeing his mother nodding in approval, Billy rose from his chair and lifted Mikey out of his high chair, before carrying his brother away into the next room so the grown ups could discuss what it was that made JD so worried about him hearing any of it.

"What is it?" Chris demanded as soon as his two boys were out of the room.

"I ran into Albert at the Telegraph office who asked me to deliver this to you," JD replied, unfolding a small piece of paper in his hand as he approached Chris. "I didn’t mean to read it."

"Tell me," Chris ordered, impatient at JD’s attempt to bring the matter forward gingerly.

"It’s from Sheriff Merrick in Ridge City," JD swallowed, wishing he did not have to bring this kind of news to Chris but considering who was involved, he had little choice but to do so. If what Sheriff suspected was true, then they were all in great danger. "He says that a few nights ago, he spotted a woman who might have been Laurel Chase."

For a minute, Chris did speak. He could not. His stomach twisted into a knot of anger so intense that he wanted to lash out at something. Closing his eyes and sucking his breath as the words impacted upon his psyche, the gunslinger seemed frozen as he absorbed what was said. Next to him, Mary’s shoulder slumped in reaction to the news, her own demons rising up from the dark recesses of her soul regarding the woman. JD waited for both of them to adjust to what they had been told, not surprised by either of their reaction to the fact that Laurel Chase might be making an encore appearance in their lives.

"Is he sure?" Chris asked finally, his voice a low hiss.

"It doesn’t say," JD replied, handing the telegram to the gunslinger who took the paper out of his hands and read the contents carefully.

Chris’ eyes scanned the words before him in something of a dazed stupor. According to the note, someone had sighted Laurel staying at the local hotel. If not for the large China man travelling with her, she would have gone relatively unnoticed. After all, Laurel’s ability to go undetected was because she was so absolutely beautiful that man had little reason to think that beneath the veneer of perfection beat the heart of a creature that was black like coal.

"Mary," Chris spoke after what seemed like an eternity of minutes, "I want you to pack the boys up."

"Chris, I won’t run from her," Mary said defiantly.

"There’s no Goa’uld to protect you or the boys from her this time," Chris replied turning to his wife with a look that broke no argument. "You will pack the boys up and be ready to leave."

"Chris…"

"DO AS I SAY!" He roared, making not only Mary jump but also JD in the process.

Mary opened her mouth to protest but the stormy expression on her husband’s eyes made her think twice about any objections. She knew that when it came to the matter of Laurel Chase, Chris would take no chances and considering that during their last encounter, both Billy and Mikey had been her prisoners, she supposed that his caution was justified. Mary did not want to tell Chris that she was capable of defending herself, that much of the memories and skill of the Goa’uld Sekhmet still remained with her. Part of him had difficulty believing that she had been host to such a vicious creature but to know that some aspect of it remained within her was more than Chris could probably take and so Mary never told him.

"Alright," she nodded slowly. "Where are we going?"

"I don’t know yet," Chris said tautly. "JD, I want you to go find the others and tell them what’s happened. Tell them to do the same. I want the women out of town. I think Audrey and Lilith should be fine but I’m not so sure about Rain. Not going to take the chance though," he decided after a second’s worth of ruminating. "All the women should be out of town. I won’t give Laurel the chance to use them against us."

"Chris, do you think she’ll really come after us?" Mary asked hopefully, praying that perhaps sense would prevail. She was known across the Territory for what she had done. There was not a sheriff’s office in the frontier that did not in part know at least something about Laurel Chase, especially after the murdering of so many in her arena and in the process of making her Venom serum.

"Yes," Chris replied without hesitation, knowing the woman of whom they spoke with more than intimate knowledge. She hated without reason and the fire of her rage burned its hottest when she had someone to focus it upon. For a time it had been him but Chris believed it no longer had to do with him specifically, not anymore. It was the seven and her inability to defeat them. "You almost killed her the last time Mary," he met her eyes. "She’s not going to forget that."

Mary shuddered at the thought at how Laurel’s vengeance must be burning. She remembered how she and Alex had almost carved Laurel’s face like a Sunday roast and how terrified the woman had been about losing her precious looks. No, Chris was right. Laurel would not forget that slight, not because she had almost been hurt but because for once in her life, she had been reduced to begging for a life, of being a victim. An ego as large as Laurel’s could not accept that kind of humiliation and she would seek out those who had made her suffer to destroy them. She had proven time again that she was not above using the loved ones of her enemies against them and Mary knew that even if they were children, Mikey and Billy were in danger.

"Alright Chris," Mary could find no other argument to keep from leaving and his caution was wise. "We’ll go."

"Good," Chris nodded, relieved that he would not have to debate this issue with her lengthily before he glanced at JD who was waiting expectantly for more instructions.

"Get going JD," Chris ordered unable to think of anything at the moment. "We don’t have much time."

JD nodded and hurried out of the house without further discussion because he knew Chris was right. They did not have much time if Laurel Chase was coming.

*********

Chris spared no time after giving Mary the order to pack and sending JD to warn the others that Laurel Chase had been sighed. Even though it was premature taking such drastic precautions when they did not even have an indication that Laurel was coming after them, Chris did not care. Once before Laurel had caught him completely unawares and placed all their lives in danger. As he rode towards the ranch in order to tell Buck and Vin of what had happened, he realised that he was almost as afraid for the tracker as he was for his family. On two separate occasions, Laurel had attempted to kill his best friend and damn near succeeded. Chris was not about to let her try it a third time.

He rode hard and fast towards the Lucky Seven ranch, his mind whirling about what to do about this sudden appearance of Laurel Chase. There was no doubt in his mind that the report of her sighting was nothing less than genuine. For months since their last encounter, nothing had been seen of the woman. When he and half the state had been chasing after her following the discovery of her Arena and her Venom serum, she had gone to ground with nary a trace left behind. For months, he had searched and when she appeared, it was only so that he would be let into a trap.

No, he could not for one second believe that her sudden emergence was merely coincidence. She was back for a reason and the only thing he could do to protect the ones he loved was to ensure that they were kept out of Laurel’s reach. Her strategy always involved getting the upper hand and with the seven men, it was clear that their weaknesses were their devotion to each other and the people in their lives. While Chris knew to a certain extent that Mary and the women could be protected, the same could not be said of the rest of the seven. If his family was out of her reach, Chris was certain she would turn her twisted plans towards the direction of his friends and take her vengeance through them.

Chris rode his horse towards the Lucky Seven ranch in full gallop, pushing the animal more than he should. However, the pounding of the gelding’s heart matched its master for intensity if not in reason. It did not take him long to reach the ranch and when he and his horse came thundering through the main track, he directed them both towards Vin and Buck whom he sighted at the holding pen. His sudden arrival immediately caught their attention and when they saw how hard he was riding. The two lawmen turned ranchers forgot the business of breaking in their new horses and hurried out of the pen to join Chris. Even Alex, who had been in the house, saw reason to emerge from it.

"Chris?" Buck spoke first as Chris dismounted.

Vin did not speak; capable of reading Chris well enough to know that the situation was dire, even if it was not already apparent by the fact that Chris had ridden here like a bat out of hell. Instead he waited for Chris to tell them and judging by the anxiety in the gunslinger’s eyes, Vin could tell he was not going to like what Chris was going to say. He saw Alex approaching from the house and winced slightly, wishing that she had remained inside. He did not want her worried by unpleasant news, especially in her delicate conditions. As much as she liked to think she was capable of handling anything, Vin was not that confident.

"We need to get to town," Chris retorted as he faced them both and did not seem to pause when he saw that Alex was nearing them. He saw no reason to hold the truth from the lovely doctor because her life was as much in jeopardy as any of them. "I’ve got the others getting the women ready to leave. Buck, I’ve already told Josiah to follow Inez home to help her pack and get some things together for Elena Rose."

"What?" Buck stammered, realising that the trouble must be very bad indeed to warrant their families being forced out of their homes. It had not been altogether that long since they had sent the women to the Seminole village to stay out of the reach of Mallaeson Davis and his killers. What possible threat could have arisen so quickly to warrant such extreme action?

"Its Laurel Chase," Chris finally answered putting an end to any argument regarding the validity of his reaction. "They saw her in Ridge City a few days ago."

"Who?" Vin questioned immediately, his stomach tightening into a knot as he made the demand. His eyes darted towards Alex as he asked the question of Chris and saw the same fear in her eyes.

"The sheriff," Chris responded. "There ain’t much in this telegram and I’d like to talk to him myself."

"So we’re riding to Ridge City," Vin ventured a guess. If that was the last place Laurel was seen then it was where they would begin the hunt.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "We need to get the women out of town. Some place safe."

"The Seminoles?" Buck suggested.

"No," Chris shook his head. "Laurel might know that Rain is from there," he pointed out. "Its too risky."

Alex thought quickly, having remained silent so far because she was still reeling from shock that Laurel Chase was back. She cursed herself inwardly that she had not killed the woman when she had the chance and now that opportunity was lost forever. She and Mary had almost killed Laurel during their last meeting. She now wished they had been more thorough because Laurel would want her vengeance. Instinctively, her hand reached for her pregnant belly because she suddenly felt very frightened for the baby she carried inside her. In her present condition, she was in hardly any condition to protect herself or her child if Laurel sought to harm them. Chris was also right; they had used the Seminole too many times as a safe haven for it to remain a viable hiding place.

Laurel was no fool and through a process of deduction, it was conceivable that she might find them if she was determined enough. No, the Seminole as a hiding place was out of the question. Suddenly it came to her in a flash of inspiration, whether or not it was because she was motivated to protect her child or simply because she wanted to seven’s mind to be at ease when they faced the crazed woman regarding their safety, Alex was not sure. She only knew that it was the best solution she had to their problem and it was some place not even the seven were particularly aware of, except for Vin.

"I have an idea," she announced quietly while the three men debated what they were going to do about hiding their families.

"What is it?" Chris asked simultaneously with Buck and Vin turning to face her.

"The convent at Coventry," Alex answered after a moment. "Not many of you know about it and only Vin has ever been there with me. I’ve been providing medical services to the nun’s up there and I’m sure that if they knew the situation, they’d be willing to put us up for awhile."

"Are you sure?" Chris stared at her intently. It was such an unlikely place for them to take refuge he was certain that Laurel would not think of it but he wanted to be certain that the convent would offer its protection of their families before making any further decision.

"The nuns think a lot of Alex," Vin commented, approving of his wife’s choice and proud that she had come up with such a sensible solution to the looming crisis. "I think they’d be happy to help out. Probably think it’s their Christian duty or something."

"Okay," Chris puffed out his chest as he considered what course they should take now. "Buck, you ride home. Get Inez and Elena and meet us in town. We’ll stay together for the rest of the day before moving out at night. I don’t want anyone to see us leaving."

"Where exactly will we be sticking together?" Alex asked.

Chris gave this a moment’s thought before coming to his decision. "My place," he concluded. "It’s in the middle of town."

Vin agreed with Chris’ assessment of their hiding place. The Clarion News and the Larabee house stood in the centre of town. If the seven positioned themselves adequately, they would have clear line of sight to anyone who attempted to approach the building. However, he did not add that Laurel might have already taken care of the possibility. Vin brushed such thoughts out of his head, knowing that his paranoia arose from the fact that on each encounter, Laurel had been capable of outthinking them. The consequences to him personally had been nothing less than devastating. Both times, he had suffered most at her hands. He was not eager to repeat the experience a third time.

"Buck," Chris looked at his oldest friend. "You need to get going."

"I hear you," Buck nodded in understanding and started to draw away.

"Hey," Chris called out as Buck parted from their group. "You ride to your place quick, you hear me. Don’t stop for anything. If I remember correctly, she had something of an interest in you too. I don’t think either of us want to know why."

Buck’s expression paled a little and the former ladies’ man shuddered under his skin. Yes, Laurel had shown her interest in him at their last meeting and it was something that still disturbed him, wondering what she had seen in him that warranted that curiosity. If there was one person that had cured him of his misconception that women could be as evil and sadistic as men, it was Laurel. Not even Ella Gaines who had murdered Chris’ wife and child had the power to do that. Ella was crazy; there was no doubt about that. However, there was nothing crazy about Laurel and her sanity was what made her actions so damn frightening.

Buck swallowed thickly and responded, "I won’t stop for anything," he reassured his old friend. "Not until I get to my wife and daughter."

"See you town," Chris replied with a little smile, glad that they understood each other.

In the meantime, Vin had turned his attention to Alex and noted the genuine fear in his wife’s eyes at the news that their old enemy had returned. Alex as much as Vin bore Laurel’s deep hatred and suddenly the young life they had created together became their biggest liability because neither had any illusions as to what Laurel would do to their unborn child if they fell into her power again. As always, she tried to hide the full measure of her fear even if some of it was reflected in her soft brown eyes. He loved her for trying to spare him but Vin knew his wife far too well for her to hide something so powerful inside of her.

"Alex," he reached for her hand, trying to give her some of his strength and dispel a little of her worries. In her condition, it was not a good way to be. "You need to go get packed. We’ll have to leave soon." He said gently.

"I know," Alex replied wishing that this would just go away. She was not one to run from her problems but she knew how necessary it was when dealing with Laurel. However, she also feared that whilst she would be hiding away with Mary and the others, Vin and Chris would be attempting to deal with her and she remembered how badly that had turned out the last time. Vin had almost died. In fact he would have died if not for the powers of Goa’uld presence inside of her. If anything happened to Vin now, not only would she unable to help him because of her absence but because without the Venom, the knowledge of Isis was beyond her reach.

"Maybe you should hide with us," she suggested, knowing it sounded foolish and weak but she could not help it. "She always has some kind of twisted plan up her sleeve. I don’t want to see you hurt."

"You can’t hide from someone like her," Vin replied, looking into her eyes. "You know that. She’ll keep looking until she finds us. I’d rather go after her then have her hunt for us. Besides, if we get you girls squared away, it will force her to come after us."

"I don’t want that!" Alex exclaimed.

"Alex," Chris interjected. "I know you’re worried about Vin. So am I," glanced at his friend. "I won’t let anything happen to him. I promise you."

Alex sucked in her breath, knowing that when Chris made a promise like that, he would move heaven and earth to make it come true. As much as she knew that some things were just beyond his power to prevent, she knew that she could trust in his promise to her and she took comfort in that. Besides, she could ill afford to waste any more time with this self doubt, not when they needed her packed and ready to leave soon.

"Alright," she nodded, pulling away from them both. "I won’t be long."

With that, she pulled away from the two men and ambled towards the house.

Chris waited until she was out of earshot before he looked at Vin. "I don’t intend to be breaking that promise Vin," he said seriously. "If she comes after you like before I’m going to fucking gut her."

Vin did not flinch at the words spoken by his friend as he watched his wife making her way to the house. Instead, he replied just as coldly, "if she comes after any of us, I’ll help you."

************

Once Chris and Vin had escorted Alex to Four Corners, leaving her in the company of Mary and the rest of the seven, they duo headed out to Ridge City. None of the women were entirely happy at having to leave their homes on such short notice but when they realised that Laurel Chase was involved, there was little or no argument. Nettie Wells had steadfastly refused to budge from her home and as much as Chris hated to give into the woman, he knew that it was unlikely that Laurel would attempt to inflict any harm upon Nettie, if she even knew about the old woman. Despite his better judgement, he conceded her request to stay and hoped that Nettie knew what she was doing by remaining on her farm. However, Nettie was not so stubborn as to demand Casey remain with her. She had no qualms about sending Casey to safety, especially when she learnt that their hiding place would be a church in Coventry.

The journey to Ridge City and Chris was uncertain whether or not he and Vin would be able to make it back to Four Corners by nightfall. Nevertheless he took care of that contingency, not wishing his loved ones to remain in town any longer than necessary, particularly when Laurel was at large. He gave the rest of the seven instructions to start moving the small caravan towards Coventry as soon as night fell. He and Vin would meet them on route. All five of the lawmen escorting the womenfolk to Coventry was probably excessive but Chris did not care, he would not have them short handed if there were ambushed. As it was Chris was not entirely happy about making this trip to Ridge City but he appreciated that it had to be done. They needed information if they were to counter Laurel’s plans.

Ridge City appeared to be one of those places that seemed to be perennially caught in a dust storm. As the two lawmen rode into town, each found themselves adjusting the brim of their hats in order to shield their eyes from the blowing particles of sand. The wind swept across the town, creating large clouds of sand that seemed to force everyone in their path indoors. Even though it was mid afternoon when they arrived at the town, the sun had been blocked out by the clouds of dust and it appeared as if dusk had come much sooner than they thought. On this particular day, most of the residents were wisely off the streets.

Chris wasted no time riding towards the sheriff’s office since neither were inclined to linger in Ridge City any longer than necessary, not when their wives and friends were in danger. The sheriff of Ridge City, an old hardened war dog named Jaime Merrick had dealt with the seven on numerous occasions and had earned their respect as honourable man who was true to his word and kept the peace not because it was a job but rather a sacred duty. The jailhouse was located centrally within the town and fortunately, Chris noted not too far away from a saloon which would be the next port of call after his discussions with Merrick.

The jailhouse interior was slightly larger than the one in Four Corners, owing mostly to the fact that Four Corners was a much smaller town and until lately, had seen lest traffic then Ridge City. Upon entering the building, they immediately sighted Merrick who was presently hanging a few wanted posters on the wall behind his desk. The sheriff was a man in his fifties with a thick white beard and equally white hair. Even though he was getting on in years some, Merrick kept things running smoothly because he commanded the respect of the townsfolk and often was often able to diffuse volatile situations without resorting to gunplay.

"Chris, Vin," Merrick looked over his shoulder upon hearing the door and quickly turned to greet them. "Expected I would be seeing you after sending that telegram."

"Appreciate the heads up Jaime," Chris tipped his hat in the sheriff’s direction with Vin doing the same a second later. "Your telegram didn’t tell us too much and I figured you’d have a lot more to say firsthand."

"You thought right," Merrick nodded. "I figured I didn’t have to put too much in that little note, just enough to get you here so you can hear me out? Drink?" He asked as he went to small cabinet where he kept such comforts.

"Wouldn’t mind it," Chris accepted politely.

"I can always use a drink when we’re talking about Chase," Vin drawled.

"Yeah, she’s a bad one alright," Merrick agreed to the younger man’s sentiments. He did not know the specifics of Chris Larabee’s dealings with Laurel Chase other than she had twice kidnapped him and attempted to harm his family. However, he was aware that on both separate occasions, Tanner had barely walked away with his life. That kind of injuries tended to sink deep into a man, almost as deep as the vengeance it inspired.

"Things was," Merrick explained once they had all sat down at his desk and were sharing a bottle of whiskey he had spirited away for his visitors. "I wasn’t in town when she was. My sister took ill and I went to see to her up north for a few days. My deputy was holding down the fort while I was gone. He’s pretty new and ain’t as familiar as the wanted posters as he ought to be but he told me when I got back that there was this gorgeous filly visiting town for a few days and that I had just missed her. Didn’t think much of it until he told me she was travelling with a big China man and that there wasn’t a man in town who didn’t want her. They all kind of stared at her like they were loco in the head or something."

If anything confirmed for him that Merrick had correctly identified Laurel being in his town, it was that. Chris recalled how he had reacted the first time he laid his eyes upon Laurel. He was not a man who believed in cheating and he adored Mary enough to be confident that no other could turn his head but the first time he had seen Laurel, he had been swept with a lust so powerful that it drove away all thoughts of Mary. Even Vin had been just as susceptible and this power that Laurel had over men was one of her more distinct characteristics.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "She has that effect on men."

"She certainly did around here," Merrick remarked before continuing. "When I showed Dwayne, my deputy the poster I got of her. He said that was her alright."

"So what was she doing here?" Vin asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Well right off the coach, she met some man and stayed with him in the hotel for a few days.’

This was new. Chris sat upright immediately at the prospect that Laurel would have a lover in town. It did not seem very much like Laurel to have a lover while undertaking the sordid business of vengeance. He wondered what kind of man would capture her interest enough to keep her in town for a few days. Laurel must have been accustomed to never staying in one place for too long after the law knew her.

"What man?" Chris asked suspiciously.

"Dwayne couldn’t say," Merrick replied automatically. "Seems he arrived a day or two before she did. Kept to himself much, mostly drank. Dwayne said that he got the impression, this wasn’t the kind of man you bother, less you want to get a bullet in the head."

"What was he like?" Vin found himself asking because he was just as curious as Chris on this matter. If they did not succeed finding the woman, perhaps they could trace the man.

"Looked like a gunfighter," Merrick answered promptly. "Dwayne couldn’t tell me much about him. I don’t think he got a real good look other than that."

Somehow, Chris could not picture Laurel with a gunfighter. Even when she had taken him as her creature, she had remoulded him to be her ideal of a man, that meant dressing him in fancy clothes and trying to make him believe he was so much better than the life he had. "And they stayed in town for a few days?" Chris asked, realising that Merrick could tell him nothing more about Laurel’s mysterious companion and opted to move on.

"Yeah," Merrick nodded. "Spent most of it in the hotel room I hear. Downright scandalous around here, I say."

Having seen the inside of Mary’s bedroom before they had been married, Chris chose not to comment on that but the implication of Merrick’s words were clear. Laurel had found herself an ally and that was something very unexpected. "Did they leave together?"

"Apparently so," the sheriff replied. "She bought herself a nice little carriage and they all rode out together, two days ago."

"Damn," Chris swore under his breath. Two days ago meant that she could be anywhere by now.

It disturbed him that she could come so close to him without his even knowing it. How was he going to protect his family when she was able to move about freely? What was worse, she now had an accomplice other than Zhang who was quite formidable on his own already. What did she intend with this new addition? Chris caught a glimpse of Vin’s expression and noted that the tracker was similarly concerned.

"I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to you," Merrick replied, genuinely sorry.

"You given us a warning that she was in town," Vin spoke before Chris could. "That’s plenty enough."

"She really come after your family?" Merrick asked, unable to imagine anyone being so cold blooded as to harm a man’s family who had no place in the quarrel.

"She’s done it before," Chris admitted reluctantly. "Almost killed my wife and took both my boys." He offered that information in order to give Merrick some idea of what he was dealing with in case Laurel did come back to Ridge City.

"Jesus," Merrick hissed under his breath.

Chris felt the same way because they had no idea where to search next.

*************

Following their meeting with the sheriff, Chris decided to grab some food and another drink before they met up with the others on the road to Coventry. Already the sun was starting its descend on the horizon and even if they rode back now, they would not be able to catch the caravan before it started its long journey. Deciding to meet them on route allowed the two lawmen time to get a suitable repast and catch up with their love ones as they journeyed to their hiding place. The sign outside the saloon claimed to serve hot meals as well as drink and both men were in the mind for something quick they could wolf down quickly before resuming their journey.

The saloon like everything else in Ridge City was dusty from the severe windstorm that was brewing outside. As wise as it would have been to wait it out, neither Chris nor Vin wanted to expend the time that would take. The saloon was starting to fill up with eyes following the both of them as they crossed the floor towards the bar counter. It was the way in every saloon, a strange ritual practised in every town they had come across. In the West where everything was such an uncertainty, the next man entering the room could be a source of danger and each had to be appraised individually. The lawmen ignored the scrutiny and found themselves a seat at the counter, since the tables were taken and neither felt inclined to share.

Chris waited for the bartender to arrive, his gaze sweeping across the room for trouble. Vin faced front, having already done this when he entered the room. It was a tracker’s instincts, the gunslinger decided. He came to the same conclusion that Vin had when he turned back to the counter again. There was little in the room that could be construed as dangerous, just the usual collection of motley patrons, accompanied by worn saloon girls and enthusiastic barmaids. The bartender, a tidy man with a large dark moustache and thinning hair, approached the new arrivals as he was polishing one of his glasses.

He stared at Chris a moment before responding, "didn’t expect to see you here so soon after leaving."

Chris stared. "What?"

"I said I didn’t expect to see you again, Mr Riley was it?"

"No," Chris rose a brow in his direction. "Its Larabee."

"Larabee?" The man retorted. "I thought you said your name was Riley."

"I never said my name was Riley," Chris declared, wondering what on earth this man was talking about but sensed the tension infusing Vin as the bartender continued to insist.

"Sure you did," the man looked at him strangely. "You told me your name was Riley."

"Mister," Chris stiffened. This was starting to sound familiar, he thought before responding, "I ain’t been in Ridge City for at least a month."

"A month?" The bartender was about to protest when he took a really long look at Chris. "Jesus Chris," he exclaimed. "It really ain’t you is it?"

Chris had a pretty good idea whom he thought Chris was but did not wish to say it out loud just yet. "No it ain’t."

"I’m sorry Mister," the bartender launched into an apology upon realising that he had been caught in a case of mistaken identity. "You sure look like Mr. Riley though, except for the moustache that is."

"When did Riley leave?" Vin asked, perfectly aware that the man the bartender had seen was Johnny Ringo. As if they didn’t have enough troubles already.

"Two days ago," he replied.

Chris blinked and suddenly it became so clear. "Did he leave alone?" He asked quickly.

Vin caught his meaning and stared at Chris in rising shock.

"No, he left with a woman. Prettiest thing you’d ever seen. Travelled with a big China man," he replied.

"Thanks," Chris answered, needing no more questions answered. He and Vin ordered their food and drinks and waited until the bartender had left them before they spoke about the news that had just fallen into their laps and the implications that went with it.

"You thinking what I’m thinking?" Chris asked Vin once they were alone.

"Yeah," Vin nodded. "Ringo’s with her."

It explained a lot really, now that he knew that Ringo was involved. After all, Laurel had always said that once he unlocked the darkness inside of him, he would be able to appreciate her and reach her twisted version of Godhood. It was rhetoric that Chris never bought into and it required the Venom to unleash his more aggressive tendencies, an experience he did not ever want to endure again. However, with Ringo there was no need for Venom because according to Wyatt Earp, Ringo was as all the darkness that Laurel would ever want and he lived on the smell of death and the lack of a soul. Of course Laurel would be drawn to him and then there was also the not so subtle bonus of the fact that Ringo was a mirror image of him.

Laurel had finally found her consort.