Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. Please note that the character of Amanda in this story draws its inspiration from the short story written by SuLu of the same name.
Chris Larabee could not sleep.
There was a time when the only requirement he needed to fall asleep was a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a space large enough to accommodate him when he finally passed out. Inwardly, he knew the reason for his restlessness as much as he might loathe admitting it, was the possibility that marriage might have made him accustomed to soft living. Still as he lay tossing and turning in this unfamiliar bed, he was unable to deny that he had such difficulty lapsing into slumber was because of Mary's absence next to him.
Even though they had spent nights apart since their marriage, he could not deny that he missed having her in his bed and feeling her warmth beside him. He could not count the number of times that he had relished the feeling of rolling onto his side before draping his arm across her delicate waist before nuzzling up to her and breathing in the scent of lavender soap that lingered on her skin. Chris had on many a night drifted to sleep with that heavenly fragrance in his lungs. Chris confessed that part of the reason he was noticing Mary's absence so intensely this time was mostly because he had the feeling that she had wanted to tell him something prior to his departure from Four Corners. However with everything that had transpiring at the time, the chance for her to do so had been lost in concerns over Vin's safety and Alex's state of mind. Hopefully whatever she had intended to reveal to him could wait until he returned home and Chris made a silent vow that he would ensure he made time for that conversation.
He finally gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed, searching through the darkness for the bottle of whiskey that still remained in its brown paper bag on top of the bureau. Chris grabbed it and unsealed the bottle because drifting to the window and staring beyond the glass at the quiet streets. There was nothing stirring at this hour of the night and in the twilight, he found that Tascosa did not seem like such a bad place. Of course, he had obvious reasons to be so adverse to this community since it was from here Vin Tanner's troubles had originated.
Chris tried not to worry about his best friend even though things were looking up considerably since this whole situation began. The murder of Jesse Kincaid had followed Vin for as long as Chris had known him. If they had not chosen to take a break in Four Corners following their first adventure together in the Seminole village, it was likely Chris would have accompanied the tracker to this town almost three years ago. However, events in Four Corners had kept them there and both men were unknowingly on the verge of great change in their lives. At the time, Chris would have gratefully left Four Corners forever, sensing the shift in the wind that told him that his life was catching with him even though he was counting the minutes to his death. He had known that he was at a crossroads the first time he had laid eyes on Mary Travis.
It had taken longer for Vin but eventually the tracker who had lived a nomadic existence most of his life had been just as lost when Doctor Alexandra Styles made her arrival in Four Corners. Chris had to admire her mettle and knew that if it were not for Mary, he would have found Alex just as exciting a creature as Vin obviously did. He was impressed by how she had regained her usual resilience to provide the assistance that not even Chris could manage. She knew better than they all did except for Chris himself that Vin had needed a lawyer from the very beginning. Though she never spoke of it to him, how quickly she retained the services of Gideon Dunwill and had him travel to Tascosa was proof that she had given some thought to Vin's situation long before Jamieson had arrived.
Chris had always known that eventually the price on Vin's head would catch up with them and confessed to becoming complacent because things had settled so nicely with all the men lately. Buck, married and with a new daughter, who have figured that? Certainly not Chris since Buck's roving eye for a fresh piece of tail was almost like a force of nature. Just like Ezra who had finally regained his beloved saloon and loving every minute of it that he was now Inez's boss after she had been managing the place for so long. Not to mention that someday soon, they would have to address Nathan Jackson as Doctor instead of plain old Nate. That really did please Chris because finally the healer was going to get the recognition he deserved. Meanwhile Josiah's friendship with Audrey King was moving along a lethargic yet healthy pace for a man who was more of a romantic about the ladies than anyone else, while JD was becoming a man right before their eyes.
Chris was ruminating on such things when he heard footsteps coming down the hall outside. Instinctively and out of sheer habit, he retrieved the pearl handled peacemaker from his gun belt hanging on one of the posts of the bed head. Chris cocked the weapon quietly, listening for the footsteps, which were advancing down the corridor, past all the other rooms and appeared to be definitely closing in on his. He held his breath, moving deeper into the darkness as he saw the crack of light beneath his door obscured by the intruder's shadowy approach.
A loud crack of snapping wood followed the door swinging open abruptly after it suffered a swift and powerful kick that tore the lock from the doorway. Light poured into the room as a man brandishing a shotgun appeared at the door way and was about to fire when Chris who already had the drop on him, even though he did not know it at this point, remarked rather calmly in great deference to the present situation.
"Can I do something for you?" Chris asked coolly as he stepped out of the shadows and appraised the man of his present circumstances.
Realising that the situation had altered drastically than from what he previously envisioned, the man's shoulders slumped, repeating the gesture a moment later when the shotgun barrel sagged in his hands as well. Staring into the eyes of the man he was sent to kill, he was realistic enough to know that the target would put a bullet in him before he even had a chance to pull the trigger far enough back to fire his gun.
"Drop it on the bed," Chris ordered in a low voice.
The intruder let out a deep breath and advanced far enough to put the gun down on the unmade bed before Chris came forward and retrieved it, his own gun never wavering from the man's chest as he did so. Once the weapon was firmly in his grip, Chris gestured toward the door.
"Shut it." He instructed just as calmly. "Then you and I are going to have a little talk."
It was a secret truth known only to gamblers that poker was the universal bond capable of transcending all racial, economic and religious barriers to unite greedy men in search of quick money. This adage was never more apparent when applied to his present situation where he found himself seated around a felt covered table, indulging the previously hostile inhabitants of Tascosa in a friendly game. It appeared that while his choice in riding companions might leave something to be desired, that still did not make him pariah enough to be excluded from sitting in on a couple of games.
Unfortunately, it became very apparent, particularly after the first hand that the new arrival did not simply look like a professional gambler with his fine clothes but actually was one. However, by the time this realisation had dawned upon them, most of the players at the table had already lost too much to be able to leave the carnage of the gambler's skill without losing face as well as profit. Ezra continued at his juggernaut pace for the rest of the night, seeing no reason why he could not indulge himself after the tension that had gripped them all since becoming temporary residents of Tascosa.
Faces changed at regular intervals at the table with everyone wanting to take on the professional card sharp convince that they were the one who could make him cry defeat with his money in their pockets. Ezra kept an eye on all of them, aware that it was never wise to let one's guard down when he was taking their money. Though most men could accept the luck of the draw, there was always one or two who would resort to name calling and even more drastic measures to regain their lost currency.
The big man with the rotten teeth and the eye patch was not a resident of Tascosa. This much Ezra could tell when he sat down at the table. The other players regarded him with unfamiliarity and from the moment he sat down, his eyes were fixated on Ezra alone and throughout the evening as the game progressed, the man's gaze seldom shifted from Ezra or the gambler's hand. Ezra came very quickly to the conclusion that the man suspected him of cheating and made no attempt to even let the notion cross his mind to prove his accuser right.
In the meantime however, Ezra took the opportunity to learn more about Jesse Kincaid as per Chris Larabee's instructions. On the advice of Vin's lawyer, the seven were attempting to garner as much useful information as they could muster about all the players in the little drama presently being acted out in Tascosa. Little was known as about Jesse Kincaid and Chris had stumbled upon the idea, which Ezra agreed with completely, that the dead man's sole possession of water in the immediate area must have made enemies of many of his neighbors. There was no reason to assume that it was merely Patterson who had engineered Kincaid's murder.
"So tell me," Ezra drawled as he cut the deck and prepared to deal. "Mr Kincaid must have made a small fortune before he died. I understood that his piece of property was one of the few farms in the neighborhood to turn a profit after the drought."
"Bastard made money alright," one of them remarked, a rather easy going if somewhat grizzled man that had the look of a prospector past his prime. "Son of a bitch bled everyone dry. If your friend hadn't killed him, someone else would have."
"Really?" Ezra said pretending to be uninterested but still needed to ask. He shuffled the cut deck and started distributing the cards between the players. "I gather Mr Patterson was most inconvenienced by this state of affairs?"
"Yeah," the old timer continued, more concerned about the hand he was being dealt rather than divulging sensitive information about his powerful neighbor. "He had to put down half his livestock because he didn't have enough water for all of them. Made him plenty mad if I remember correctly. Then Kincaid died and his widow sold up quickly. For a long time, some folk thought that Patterson put your friend up to killing Kincaid, maybe to get a payoff as well as a reward."
"My friend is unnaturally honest," Ezra remarked automatically. "Whether or not you good folk may choose to believe it, Mr Tanner found the body and assumed it was Ely Joe. Until we confronted the brigand in Four Corners, Mr Tanner had never met the man faced to face. Ely Joe had been most clever about using that to his advantage."
"Don't know about that," the old timer shrugged, not about to get into a debate over the matter particularly when he did believe that Tanner had been Kincaid's killer. However, a poker table should always be considered neutral territory and he had no wish to anger the gambler, preferring to play instead.
"Everyone knows your friend is a killer!" The man Ezra had been aware of watching him all night finally made his move. Ezra was not surprised but he was not about to act rashly either, allowing this man to play his hand before he made his own counter-offensive. "He couldn't catch the real Ely Joe and so he killed some innocent farmer to git his money!"
"That is one opinion," Ezra said coolly, his hand made no move to the gun in his holster but instead prepared to use the derringer carefully hidden beneath the frilled cuff of his sleeve. "How about we resume our game Sir, this is hardly the place for a gun battle."
"Mighty smart talking ain't ya," the man sneered derisively even though he had secretly taken note of where Ezra's hand was, the gambler noticed. "Let's see if you're smart enough to talk your way through a bullet." He pulled out his gun and was about to fire at Ezra but the gambler was faster. The mechanism holding the derringer snapped into place and the handle of the small weapon slid into Ezra's waiting hand easily. With faster reflexes than this huge lumbering oaf would ever possess, Ezra pulled the trigger without batting an eye.
The bullet slammed into the centre of the man's forehead, blowing the back of his head outwards and causing a slight spray of blood behind him before he tumbled to the ground. A few screams were heard, these mostly came from the saloon girls while the other players jumped away from the table when the altercation had turned deadly. Ezra watched the dismay and shock in the crowd as the dead man lay on the dirt covered floor, blood spreading out in a crimson crown around his head.
"He don't even know Patterson." One of them remarked as they stared at the grisly scene. "He ain't from round here."
"He was not." Ezra remarked, aware of what the man was all about. "The gentlemen was waiting for an opportunity to do this, Patterson's name being mentioned appeared as good an opening as any." What the gambler did not add was that this was no random attack. The man had been after him specifically, masking the intent to kill by a display of mock offense at the sullying of Caleb Patterson's name. It suddenly occurred to Ezra whether or not he was the only one who facing such attack.
"Gentlemen," the gambler said coolly to his opponents. "I think I will call it a night." He tipped his hat at them before hurrying out of the saloon, determined to find his friends before they were made similar visitations.
"Go on JD," Buck Wilmington said to the younger man as he stepped into the jailhouse. Ritter was on hand as always to keep an eye on the proceedings, trusting none of them with his prisoner since he had to endure their presence in his jailhouse. "Get some sleep."
"Thanks Buck," JD remarked, feeling a little bit of a knot in his back at having to remain so long in the chair near Vin's cell. The tracker did not sleep much, spending most of his time staring outside his window although whenever JD felt the need to talk, he had listened patiently. JD had the feeling that Vin was afraid even though it was not in the man's nature to show it. "I'll see you tomorrow Vin." JD said glancing at the tracker in his cage.
Vin was still awake and reacted just enough to look away from the window and offer the young sheriff of Four Corners a parting look of farewell.
JD slipped both his guns back into his holster as he walked past Ritter's desk since the only way the man would allow them to keep their vigil with Vin was to remain unarmed while they were inside his jailhouse. Knowing that they were allowed to remain only at the sheriff's sufferance, the peacemakers from Four Corners were not about to argue the point.
JD yawned upon emerging into the night air.
In truth, he did not mind Tascosa really, mostly because it did not look all that different from Four Corners. He rather thought that all small towns looked the same now that he knew enough of them to make the distinction. Although the others would not readily admit it, mostly because their opinion of Tascosa was based on the effect the place had on Vin Tanner's life, JD found Tascosa to be pleasant enough. It was probably as tight knit a community as Four Corners was when faced with difficulties. While it was obvious that not many people really liked Kincaid, they still felt inclined to defend the man even in death. It would be no different if anyone had killed someone in Four Corners, he was certain the town would band together to demand justice as the townsfolk of Tascosa had done although he was not as assured that a lynching would be on the agenda.
He left the jailhouse, eager to return to his lodgings as he walked the quiet street because fatigue had caught up with him and he wanted to sleep. He gazed at the stars above and marveled at the crystal clear blue beauty of the sky above and hoped that their departure from this town would not be under worse circumstances from when they had arrived. JD could no more stand it than any of his older companions if he were forced to see Vin Tanner hang and if the outcome of his trial was anything but satisfactory tomorrow, that was the nightmare they would be facing.
He took note that the saloon was alive and jumping as he closed the distance between it and himself, frowning a little because his lodgings were above the establishment and would only keep him awake. Taking a deep breath, he decided there was nothing for it but to grin and bear his situation since it was his own fault for thinking it fun to take a room in the saloon when the others had opted for a lodging house. The lights of the saloon beckoned him through the darkness when suddenly he heard something in the dead of night that made him react immediately.
There was only one thing that could make a sound like that and with everything that Buck Wilmington had taught him, JD immediately dropped to his knees as the shot rang out. The bowler hat he was wearing was whisked off his head as the bullet missed his skull by a fraction, the speed and inertia of the projectile sweeping the headwear with it. JD saw his favorite hat tumbled to the dirt, smoking where the bullet had entered the fabric and left a hole. He felt his chest constrict with fear and then relief at the realization at how close he had come to dying.
JD kept low to the ground, trying to discern where the gun shot had originated and knew that the angle of the bullet's entry into his hat indicated it was high. His eyes scoured the darkness through the windows of the surrounding buildings and saw not even the sign of movement. He scrambled through the dirt quickly, just in case the sniper was still trying to get him within his sights again. If Chris were here, the gunslinger would be next to livid that someone had come after them in such an underhanded way. There was one thing that Chris Larabee could consider worse than shooting a man in the back, shooting a man in the back and hiding like a coward while doing it.
The shooter reloaded and more shots rang out as JD felt dirt and gravel fly in all directions inches behind him as he crawled away for cover. He could feel the roar of bullets attempting to claim him and he knew it was only luck that had allowed them to keep ahead of him, that and probably the fact that he was small enough for his size to be an advantage.
"JD!" He heard Nathan cry out. "Stay where you are!"
JD who was now hiding behind the water trough he had managed to crawl behind, peered over the edge to see Nathan running into a building directly opposite him. The healer was armed and burst through the door of what appeared to be the local hotel. JD also saw Ezra trying to reach him, the gambler's eyes were trained on a window of the hotel facing him and the youth gathered that was where his would be assassin was making his attempt to kill him.
A moment of silence followed when suddenly, shots rang out in quick succession, someone screamed and to JD it sounded like a woman. The scream was cut short by the overpowering sound of glass shattering as a body fell through the window, landing hard on the awning above the door and smashing through the wood with a terrible crash. JD held his breath and knew that Ezra was doing so as well until Nathan appeared at the window, alive and well.
"Its okay," Nathan signaled to the men on the ground. "He was alone."
Both men exhaled loudly and Ezra turned back to JD, walking towards the young man now that it was safe to do so. He bent over and picked up JD's hat as he approached taking note of the hole and when it had entered.
"Mr Dunne, I trust you survived that encounter better than your hat?" Ezra asked with his usual flippancy, hiding the depth of his concern for the boy as always, with a glib remark.
"Yeah," JD swallowed as he got to his feet, dusting himself of, still rather dazed by everything that had taken place in the last few minutes that he needed to recoup his senses. "What was that all about?"
"I am not entirely certain but I do believe that a concerted effort is being made to tell us that we are not welcome in this community. I had a brigand scowling his way into a card game with me and then selecting the flimsiest of reasons to make an attempt to shoot me."
"You okay?" JD asked concerned.
"Obviously." Ezra remarked, replacing the hat back on JD's head who promptly adjusted its positioning. "I sought out Mr Jackson and found that he had already dealt with the man who came after him. Likewise with our religious friend."
By that, JD assumed he meant Josiah. However, JD looked around and noticed that the preacher was conspicuous by his absence. "Where is Josiah?"
Josiah Sanchez feared the worst.
He saw the door to Chris Larabee's room with all signs that it had been broken into. Someone had barged into the gunslinger's room violently and let himself out again after it was all said and done, shutting the door behind him and promoting the illusion of peace inside the room. There was no light emanating from narrow gap between the floor and the door or any signs at all that could be considered life. The preacher's heart felt cold inside his chest as he neared the door, thinking in a surge of panic that he was too late. Instinctively, it made sense that Chris would be the first one attacked since the gunslinger had proved himself time and time again to be the head of the pack whenever they faced danger. Removing Chris would be to deliver a mortal blow indeed to the fellowship and ensure that the group be splintered forever.
Josiah forced himself to ignore such fears since he knew nothing was for certain until he saw the irrefutable evidence before his eyes that left no doubt. Upon reaching the door, Josiah pushed it open slowly, poised to jump out of the way if Chris' attacker was still present and felt inclined to take another one of them down. His guns preceded him as he took another step forward, ready to fire instantly, it the need arose. The door swung open noiselessly at first, breaking into a loud creak once the expansion of space between it and the doorway made the room half open Josiah.
The gunfire that was meant to erupt did not come and Josiah called out tentatively.
"Chris." His deep voice resonated in the darkness and felt hollow in the prelude to what he feared he would find if there was no answer.
"Come on in Josiah." Chris Larabee's voice responded with typical laconic understatement, a sharp contrast to the tension that was running through the preacher at this moment.
Josiah let out a sigh of relief and stepped into the room to see that Chris Larabee was sitting on the sill of his bedroom window, allowing only the light of the full moon through the glass to illuminate the darkened space within. On the bed, his would be assailant sat before the gunslinger, trembling with fright. Josiah could see beads of sweat running down the man's forehead even through the darkness and the preacher looked up at Chris in question, wondering what the leader of the seven could be doing to this man to engender such fear.
"Shut the door Josiah," Chris ordered and the older man complied immediately.
Only when they were alone, did Josiah deem himself to speak. "I take it this is your midnight visitor." Josiah remarked, stating the obvious.
"Yeah," Chris nodded, his eyes still on the man. "Everyone all right?" He assumed from Josiah's arrival here that the attack that would have taken his life had he not been awake at the time, was not an isolated event.
"As far as I know." Josiah answered pulling up a chair and sitting down since Chris was making no move to leave his present position by the window. "Ezra took care of his in the saloon and thought something was up. He came and found me and Nathan before the two of them went to find JD. Buck's still in the jailhouse so I think he's safe enough for the moment. No one is dumb enough to try and take him in there. Ritter's a bastard but I don't think he'd stand for murder."
"I agree." Chris nodded. "I've been having a little talk with our friend here. He ain't being too helpful."
"You're fucking crazy!" The man shouted fearfully, the desperation and terror in his voice apparent. "That's what you are! Crazy!"
"Maybe," Chris nodded as he cocked the gun in his hand and prepared to fire. "But you're running out of time."
Josiah thought for a moment that Chris had intended to scare the man and did not really believe Chris was going to shoot until he heard the hammer of the gun pulled back and Chris showing no intention of desisting. The preacher's mouth dropped open in shock as the gunslinger's finger tightened around the trigger and completed the journey.
"Chris!" Josiah exclaimed, unable to believe that Chris Larabee would resort to a cold blooded execution like this.
The chamber clicked into place but no bullet emerged.
The sound of an empty gun cocked echoed through the room and the would be victim let out a soft cry of relief as well as plain fear as the death he had anticipated did not come. Chris met Josiah's gaze and flashed a predatory smile which told Josiah immediately, he need not have feared. "You've got only another chance at this." Chris said to his prisoner. "I'm not usually this lucky at Russian Roulette but if you don't tell me what I want to know soon, I'm likely to wait out this lucky streak and see how far it goes before a bullet actually fires. You got a problem with that Josiah?" He did not look at the preacher when he asked that question.
"It seems to me that if a man is low enough to kill another in his own bed, he brings on the wrath of god on himself. Ain't my purview to make comment on how the Almighty wishes to dispense justice." Josiah offered Chris a smile of amusement and one of support and made a silent note to the gunslinger to continue.
"Who hired you?"
"I ain't telling!" The man barked back but the edge of his fear was unmistakable, he was close to cracking and they both knew it.
The surge of defiance would be brief, Chris could tell by his wide eyes that the stark terror displayed by his victim was just about to overwhelm him and it would take only a nudge to send him tumbling over the dark abyss. Well perhaps not a nudge, Chris thought with a sinister smile, more like the pull of a trigger. Without giving him any further warning, Chris cocked the gun once again. The man let out a cry of horror as he saw the chamber shifting into place. He stared down the barrel of the gun, almost ghostly white with fear as Chris brought down the hammer of the firing mechanism...
And discharged nothing but a loud click of metal that coincided with the man erupting with hysterical cries of fear as the defiance left him.
"Patterson!" He screamed, so frightened that Chris could not distinguish where one word began and another ended. "It was Patterson! Patterson hired us all to kill you and your friends!" The acrid odor of human waste began to exude from him and Chris wrinkled his nose in disgust as he lowered the gun, even though the shotgun was still poised to fire in case the man experienced a resurgence of defiance.
Chris glanced at Josiah and remarked with a faint smile. "I think I'm going to need to change rooms."
"You probably do." Josiah had to agree, unable to deny the gunslinger was if anything, effective. Chris' would be assassin was breathing hard, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to gain some measure of dignity after his humiliating display of defeat while glaring at his tormentor with unmasked hatred.
"By the way," Chris stared back at him dispassionately and pulled the trigger again, making both Josiah and his intended victim jump when the sixth chamber of the gun registered the sound of emptiness. Josiah started to laugh, realizing that he should have known better. Chris was too crafty to take chances with a man's life, even one who had tried to kill him.
"You bastard!" The man started to shout as the discovery that when he had seen Chris empty the chamber to begin this little game of Russian roulette, he had mistakenly believed that one bullet still remained when in actual fact Chris had removed all of them. "You tricked me!"
"Shut up." Chris stared at him with a cold look in his eye and pulled the trigger of the shotgun he was still holding. "You ain't gonna be so lucky with this thing." He gave the man a look that stated clearly that this time it would be no ruse. The man gulped visibly and fell silent again. Chris turned to Josiah once more. "Come daylight, I think its time we paid Mr Patterson a call."
Unfortunately, while Chris and the others were all in favour of riding to Caleb Patterson's ranch the next morning, they were soon reminded that Vin would be facing a judge on that particular day. Chris had no intention of allowing Vin face that trial on his own. While Chris sorely wanted to make the rancher accountable for his coordinated attempts to murder them all the night before, the gunslinger was not about to be absent during Vin Tanner's day in court. As it was, the tracker was feeling gloomy enough about his fate and pining away in secret for his lady love who unknown to him, closer than he might have believed, without Chris and his friends abandoning him for the retribution that could be afforded a day's delay.
The courthouse was located directly across the street from the sheriff's office and as a place of legal judgement, was not particularly lavish with its hewn wooden benches and tables provided for the parties arguing their cases. At this time, there was no opposing defense and no trial as such was scheduled to begin. As Gideon Dunwill explained to Chris and the rest of the lawmen prior to the commencement of the proceedings, this was merely to establish a plea of guilty or innocent prior to an actual trial where the case would be argued with a prosecutor representing the State of Texas.
Judge David Stoner sat behind his bench or the wooden table that passed as one, overseeing the proceedings with a steely eye. He appeared to a sharp witted man and though his manner seemed gruff, he had the worn look of someone who had seen much in his time and learnt even more from it. He raised somewhat of a curious eye at the number of people inside his courtroom, considering that the hearing, once it was underway, would be brief. The defendant had a lawyer and that meant that the judge's input would be minimal until the trial was ready to commence.
Gideon Dunwill sat at the desk provided for him at the left end of the room, away from those who had came as spectators. The lawyer had his notes before him as always and a leather case which he occasionally rummaged through while waiting for Sheriff Ritter to arrive with his client. Chris studied the faces in the room and saw some of the folk that had prepared to lynch Vin their first night here present and waiting just as impatiently as his own men. JD was fidgeting with Buck nudging him to be still and in doing so inspired a battle of nudging and prodding between the two until Chris heard Josiah hiss at them to be quiet. Ezra met Chris' gaze and the gambler rolled his eyes in sarcasm at their behavior while Nathan and Nettie were engaged in quiet conversation.
Several benches back, Chris saw Jamieson and Langstrom tipping their hat at him in acknowledgement of greeting before their eyes faced front again. Chris wished things would get started. He hated all the pageantry that went into deciding a man's fate, especially when that man was his friend. Chris feared the worst for Vin. He liked it even less than the one person who should be here was probably in her room, going through her own private hell while she waited to hear whether she would have the chance to spend her life with the man she loved. Chris made a mental note to see Alex after the courtroom formalities were taken care of. In Vin's absence, Chris felt obligated to see if she was all right because in his place, Vin would do the same.
It felt like an eternity before Vin was finally ushered into the room with reactions being mixed at his arrival. The natives of Tascosa hissed at the tracker as he strode into the court. Vin showed no reaction to their jibes and accusations of being a murderer before the judge brought down his gavel and threatened to turn them out if order was not maintained. Eventually, Ritter released Vin into Dunwill's custody and Vin took a seat next to his lawyer.
As Stoner brought the gavel down on the wooden bench once more and made the opening statements to get things off to a start, Vin looked over his shoulder and met Chris' gaze. The tracker did not have to speak for Chris to understand what he was attempting to say. No matter what the outcome of the trial, Vin was prepared to abide by the decision made and wanted to let Chris to know that it was alright if things did not turn out the way they hoped. He had made the choice and wanted none of his friends to regret the decision to let him come here and face judgement.
Chris nodded silently at the tracker, understanding that it was the way Vin wanted things and hoping that when the time came, he could accept it too.
She wanted to be there so badly that she almost ached physically.
Alex paced the floor of her hotel room, feeling the walls shrinking around her as if she were vermin trapped inside a cage. She could not count how many times she had gone to the window of her room hoping to catch a glimpse of Vin as he was brought to the courthouse even though she knew the hotel was not near enough to offer her such an opportunity. The futility did not stop her because the action gave her something to do. Each torturous second that passed as she waited for Gideon to bring her news seem to make her question the reasoning that kept her inside his room and not at Vin's side offering him her support.
Finally Alex could stand it no more because it was driving her insane with longing to run out of this room and burst into the courtroom and tell him that she was here in Tascosa and had always been. Emerging from the hotel, she felt the need to walk and clear her head of the thoughts that were swirling inside her mind with images of Vin and the dreams they had shared of the future. Alex was not ready to give up on them yet and forced herself to believe that Gideon's assurances that an acquittal was possible in light of the evidence they were uncovering in Tascosa. However, she did not fool herself into thinking that his assurances made it a reality either. As much as she needed hope, Alex could not delude herself into believing the illusion of hope until it something tangible, not wistful thinking.
Leaving the hotel behind her, she noticed that it was not long after noon and knew that the hearing had well and truly commenced by this point and reminded herself again and again that her appearance would serve no purpose but to make Vin feel worse than he already did. No matter what he might think when he first saw her, eventually the shame of his circumstances would sink in and he would that she had seen him like that. Alex loved enough to spare him that shame by keeping away. She continued her trek through town, trying to focus herself on anything other than Vin Tanner.
When Alex arrived at Amanda Kincaid's store, she had no idea if her journey here had been intentional or not. She had been so intent in not thinking about Vin that she kept walking from one end of the town to the other, trying not seem inconspicuous even though everyone in Tascosa knew that she had something to do with Gideon Dunwill, the man defending Vin for murder. So far, it appeared that Amanda had not revealed to the rest of the community that Alex Styles was in fact, Vin's lover and fiancée to which the doctor was grateful.
She entered the familiar surroundings of the store she had visited earlier for no reason other than the fact that she was driven there by instinct and now more than ever she missed the solidarity and friendship of Mary, Inez, Rain, Julia and Casey. As women who loved unusual men and were themselves unique in their mettle, Alex had found life long friends that would have been her privilege to know even if they were not bonded by the men whose hearts they had won. She had seen something of sympathy inside Amanda Kincaid when the woman learnt of her attachment to Vin enough to believe that it might just be nice to talk to the woman. Perhaps she might learn something to help Vin but mostly because she did not wish to be alone.
The store was empty except for Amanda who was behind a pedal operated sewing machine, running a length of white floral fabric under the rapidly moving needle. The machine made a low whirring sound that was not loud enough to mask Alex's entry into the place and Amanda paused when Alex entered. Remaining seated as the new arrival approached her, Amanda wondered what Alexandra Styles wanted of her.
"Hello." Alex greeted, trying to sound pleasant and not as pained as she felt. "I'm surprise to find you here. I thought you might be at the hearing."
Amanda shook her head, showing no hostility at the inquiry. "Jesse is gone." She said with that same quiet manner. "I don't need to know who killed him. It don't change anything."
"I guess not." Alex had to concede agreement on that point.
"Why ain't you there?" Amanda asked thinking that of the two of them, this exotic looking woman would be the one who had most reason to be present at Vin Tanner's courtroom appearance.
"It would hurt him too much for him to see me." Alex said unafraid to lie on this point. "Vin would not want to see him like that. I haven't seen him at all since he came to Tascosa. He has no idea that I am even here."
"You really love him, don't you?" Amanda looked at her, touched by the pain that Alex had driven to submission in order to cope, even though its reflection could be seen in her eyes.
"Yes," Alex swallowed, feeling a tidal wave of emotion surface with that simple admission. "He's my life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him."
Amanda did not want to hear this. She wished Alexandra Styles would go away but there was too much compassion inside her heart to chase away the woman when Alex so clearly needed comfort. "Would you like some tea?" Amanda asked with that too soft voice once again, aware of the danger she was allowing by this simple act of kindness.
"Yes I would," Alex said with a smile, promising herself that she would not take advantage of Amanda's kindness by probing her for information during the invitation.
Amanda nodded shortly and went to the front door where she secured the lock and placed the sign saying 'closed' in the window before she withdrew into the backrooms and gestured for Alex to follow her. One of the small storage rooms in the shop had been converted into a small kitchen with a table, a stove and pantry. As Alex sat at the small kitchen table, admiring the patterned table cloth covering the rough surface, she had to admit that the room though small was actually quite cosy and must have been Amanda's refuge when she needed a moment's rest from the day's work. Alex could well understand a need for a place like this since her own home was situated in the rooms above her clinic.
Amanda said nothing as she prepared the tea and Alex had a feeling that it was not because the woman was unfriendly, simply because the situation between them was awkward and a deeper suspicion that perhaps Amanda was not, in general, very sociable. She was in the midst of pouring hot water in a pretty ceramic teapot when the cuff of her dress rode up her forearm a little and Alex caught sight of her skin.
"What on earth happened to you?" Alex blurted out, her doctor's instincts kicking in immediately when she saw the scars on the lady's arm.
"Its nothing!" Amanda said defensively pulling the fabric over her arm once more, mortified that Alex had seen the remnants of Jesse's cruelties on her person. "Just a little burn, that's all." She swallowed hard but Alex was already on her feet and took her arm without even hearing the protest.
"A little burn?" Alex looked at the arm, noticing the burns that were the size of coins against the skin. She was certain that the level of scarring left behind had been third degree burns when they had been fresh wounds. "This must have been terribly painful, you would have taken weeks to heal. They're almost third degree."
"It was an accident." Amanda said fearfully, unable to meet her gaze as she made that admission.
Alex realised they were on the verge on uncomfortable territory and she had just stumbled upon something important and could not afford to alienate Amanda any further if she was to learn any more. "I'm sorry, I can't help myself. Being a doctor and all..."
"You are a doctor?" Amanda exclaimed with genuine surprise. "I didn't know that there were lady doctors."
"My father was a doctor and he was pretty determined that I be one too," Alex replied, returning to her seat and continuing to widen the space between the uncomfortable topic of a few moments ago. "I studied in England and got my degree but there was no room there for someone like me to be a doctor so I came out west."
"It must be something to travel like that." Her hostess sighed with a hint of longing that was far removed from her usually dispassionate manner. "I'd love to see the ocean just once."
"It is beautiful," Alex could not deny that much. "When you see the sea as far as the eye will let you, you almost think that nothing bad exists anywhere."
"I've never felt like that," Amanda's gaze dropped as she made that confession.
The sadness Alex saw in her eyes surfaced then and something tugged at the doctor's heart as she saw that deep, intense pain that Amanda Kincaid must have surely carried with her, every day of her life since whatever demons that plagued her now first shattered that fragile spirit. "Amanda," Alex spoke up firmly, forgetting Vin for a moment because the doctor inside her recognized someone in pain and was compelled to act. "Those burns on your hand, they're cigar burns aren't they?"
Amanda could not meet her eyes but managed a slow nod. "Yes." She answered and was surprise that it felt like the great weight pressing upon her chest for so long had been lifted.
Alex simply nodded because this was not a unique story no matter how odious or terrible it must have been for Amanda to live it. "How long were you married to him?" The doctor asked quietly not even requiring confirmation that it was her husband that had inflicted such injuries upon Amanda.
Alex simply knew.
Tears began to fill Amanda Kincaid's eyes. "Ten years." She whispered. "Ten long years."
Alex closed her eyes trying to imagine what it must have been like to live with someone who would use a lighted cigar to amuse himself on his wife's skin. She had suspected something of the like when she had first encountered Amanda's indifferent manner to her husband's death but until she had seen those burns, did not understand the extent of abuse the poor woman must have endured. "I am so sorry. I gather you had nowhere else to go for help?" Alex asked gently.
"No." Amanda shook her head slowly. "No place at all." She said hoarsely, remembering her mother's indifference to her plight, caring only about her own selfish needs and not about her daughter who was enduring her own private hell. "Momma said that's the way marriage was. You obeyed your husband in all things and you put up with him because you swore an oath to God to do so."
Mary would beg to differ, Alex thought quietly but did not voice that opinion. "You don't need me to tell you that is not how it is at all. I've never been married but I've met others like you, not a lot but enough to know that it is definitely not how its supposed to be. I can't imagine what you must have been through."
"No you can't," Amanda met her eyes with a tear filled gazed. "Your man loves you. He ain't never going to do nothing to hurt you. When he touches you, it's a beautiful thing. When Jesse put his hands on me, all he ever knew how to do was hurt me and keep hurting me, inside and out. God, how I hated that son of a bitch! Every filthy degrading thing that he could do hurt me, he did and if you wonder why I can't feel anything for him its because I was freed from hell when he died! I'm sorry about your man but Jesse dying was the best thing that ever happened to me!"
Alex looked at the dark mask of hatred in Amanda Kincaid's eyes and knew without doubt that the lady had the key to Vin's freedom. However, she had lived with her ordeal for a long time, suffering almost a decade of abuse the likes of which would drive a lesser person to the grave. It would be difficult to convince her that it was time to speak the truth about what she knew about Jesse Kincaid's death.
Somehow, Alex was going to have to manage that minor miracle because Amanda was Vin's only hope.
Vin sat next to Gideon Dunwill at that exact moment listening to Sheriff Ritter informed the court about the events that had led the tracker to this instance in time. During his narration, the locals offered their opinions by heckling at regular intervals until Judge Stoner made it plain that the next person to cause such disruption was going to find himself or herself in contempt of court. Eventually such instances disappeared completely and the hearing continued smoothly while the preliminary specifics of the case was laid out before the judge.
When Ritter had concluded his story, the judge looked at Dunwill. "Mr Dunwill, how does your client plead to the charge of murder?"
Dunwill rose to his feet and motioned to Vin to do the same as they faced the judge behind his bench. "My client pleads not guilty." Dunwill said firmly.
"A plea of not guilty is so noted." Stoner nodded, anticipating this from the moment he had realised that Tanner had a lawyer to defend him. He gestured at Vin and Dunwill to take their seats again and prepared to speak further when Dunwill interrupted.
"Your honor," Dunwill cleared his throat and added, aware that his next statement was going to cause disturbance from almost everyone who believed in his client's guilt. "I move to recommend a change of venue for the trial."
A rumble of dissent followed the courtroom as those who understood the lawyer's fancy words, reacted immediately to it as he had suspected. As the dissent gained momentum, Stoner was forced to silence the room once again with the heavy banging on his gavel against the wooden surface of his bench. "Order." He demanded and a hush of silence fell over the room again as he turned to Dunwill for an explanation.
"On what grounds?" He asked.
"I believe my client's safety is in question in this community. Two nights ago, when my client had voluntarily surrendered himself into the sheriff's custody, some of the members of this locality had attempted to conduct a lynching. Had it not been for the timely intervention of Federal Marshall Jamieson, the outcome would have been most unfortunate."
Dunwill glanced at Chris Larabee briefly, hoping that the gunslinger would understand why he had credited the protection of Vin's life to the Marshall since a legally appointed lawman would carry more weight with the judge than six hired gunmen from another state. The gunslinger nodded slightly at the lawyer from his seat with the rest of the courtroom attendants, showing his approval with that single gesture. "I believe Sheriff Ritter can confirm this to be true since he was present at the time."
Stoner turned to Ritter. "Is this true?" He questioned.
The sheriff frowned, appearing not at all happy about the prospect of letting Vin out of his jailhouse but had no choice and was forced to begrudgingly speak the truth. "Yes your Honor," he nodded reluctantly. "They were aiming to lynch the man."
"You see your honor," Dunwill continued, mounting a formidable case for his client's removal from Tascosa. "Even the sheriff cannot guarantee my client's safety. The facts of this case are ambiguous to say the least and my client should never have been arrested let alone be brought to trial. It is my contention that until the facts are revealed at the proper time for his freedom to be granted by a court of law, we should at least try to keep him alive."
Stoner shifted in his seat as he considered Dunwill's words, brushing aside the man's attempt to sway his judgement with the possibility that an innocent man could lose his life if he were forced to remain in Tascosa.
Vin stared at the man behind the bench, wondering how one came to the decisions he did when so much depended upon it. While the tracker had not said much during the hearing, he was singularly impressed by the argument Dunwill had made to save his life and to declare his innocence. For once, he was glad that Alex's money had brought this stranger here to speak in his defense and Vin hoped that the faith he was starting to place in Dunwill was not a wasted effort.
He looked over his shoulder and met Chris' eyes who was not as overt about showing his admiration for the lawyer but was nonetheless pleased by the way things were progressing, Vin was certain. Ezra flashed the tracker a dimpled smile of encouragement, while Buck winked at him while JD offered a small wave with his fingers, Josiah tipped his hat and Nathan nodded in Vin's direction. Beside the healer, Nettie smiled warmly and told him without a saying a word, that they were here for him. Knowing that made Vin feel better, even if the judge did not rule in his favor.
"Mr Dunwill," Stoner spoke finally and brought Vin's attention back to him. "You will cease from making such obvious attempts to curry my favor in your claim of Mr Tanner's innocence. That is for a jury to decide."
"I apologize your honor." Dunwill shrugged, aware that he had gone too far when he had said it but was required to make the effort nonetheless.
"However," the judge continued after a moment. "You have made a sufficient case in regards Mr Tanner's continued safety should he remain here in Tascosa, therefore motion to conduct the trial at Amarillo is carried. You will have your opening arguments ready two weeks from today. Mr Tanner will remain in custody until preparations can be made to transfer him to Amarillo. Court dismissed."
With that he brought down the gavel once again as the room erupted with discourse over his decision.
"Well," Dunwill let out a sigh as the rumble of dissent rose around his ears but determined not to allow the anger displayed by the natives of Tascosa from dampening the victory of clearing his first hurdle in what was never going to be an easy process. "I say that went well."
"I ain't hung yet so its gotta be good." Vin joked despite the fact that his troubles were far from over.
Dunwill looked at him. "Mr Tanner, do you think we could for a little optimism?"
Patterson should have known that lawyer was trouble he moment he heard the man was in town preparing to defend Vin Tanner for the crime of Jesse Kincaid's murder. While he had not been so restrained dealing with Tanner's comrades, Patterson knew that to make a move against a high priced lawyer such as Gideon Dunwill was to invite trouble on a scale he could not hope to cope with. It was one thing hiring outside talent to wipe out a bunch of troublesome gunmen but another thing entirely to kill a lawyer. Not even Ritter would stand for that and Caleb Patterson knew it.
However, his situation had not improved by the failed attempts at ending the threat that Tanner's comrades had posed or the determination by the court that the trial should be held in Amarillo. In Amarillo, without the weight of local opinion against him, the chance that Tanner might be acquitted was a real possibility and Patterson would not stand for it. When he had arrived in town the morning of Tanner's trial and learnt that the six men guarding him were still alive and the lawyer had succeeded in having the trial moved to Amarillo, Patterson knew it was time for a new plan.
Patterson had learnt enough about Gideon Dunwill to know that the services of a lawyer from Silver City did not come cheap and did not believe for one moment that Tanner could afford the legal eagle without assistance. Dunwill had not arrived in Tascosa alone and Patterson had to assume the proud elderly woman who was a frequent visitor of Tanner at the jailhouse was paying his fees. After all, if she could afford to have a nigger maid travelling with her, it was possible she could afford to hire a lawyer. The hotel register had her listed as Nettie Wells but that did not mean she was not related to Tanner in anyway.
The rancher made his way up to the jailhouse determined to see Tanner following his trial and make him aware that the man still had weaknesses that could be exploited, no matter how invincible his friends might appear to be. No doubt, Tanner would have been delivered to the jailhouse following the court proceedings, as arrangements to move him to Amarillo would take days to set in motion. Thus Patterson still had the opportunity to resolve this matter before he was forced to escalate the situation. He was not going to endure the uncomfortable questions that would be raised by a trial.
If need be, he would have the tracker killed on his way to Amarillo.
However, as he made his way up the steps to the jailhouse, Patterson knew he had another bit of ammunition still remaining in his arsenal that might make Tanner a little more pliable to his desires. He did not relish the idea of hiring more men after the dismal effort by those he had sent after Tanner's comrades. As it was, he was glad most of them had been killed so he did not have to pay them for such incompetent work.
He entered the building and found Ritter in his customary position behind his desk. The lawman rose to his feet as Patterson entered.
"Caleb." He greeted. "What can I do for you?" Ritter's voice seemed taut and Patterson had the feeling that the sheriff believed him responsible for the shootings the night before. Well he could believe all he liked, Patterson snorted, proving it would be an entirely different thing since Tanner was not the only one who had access to expensive lawyers.
"I'm here to see the prisoner, Josh." Patterson said smugly, feeling a hint of triumph knowing that he was impervious to whatever suspicions that Ritter might be harbouring.
"I don't think that's such a good idea." Ritter replied automatically, not simply because of his suspicions but because Larabee was with the prisoner at the moment and Ritter had enough sense about the man in black to know that Patterson would be stupid enough to provoke the man into acting.
"I want to see him now." The rancher declared with even more insistence. "You can't stop me from seeing him."
"No I can't," Ritter shook his head and felt his own feelings in the case of Jesse Kincaid becoming clouded with the appearance of Patterson and the events of the previous night.
For a long time, the sheriff had clung to the belief that it was Vin Tanner who killed Jesse. It was an opinion he had refused to abandon even though there were circumstances prior to the death that might cast doubt on that possibility. The midnight attacks on the Kincaid ranch for instance and all that trouble over water rights. Kincaid had come to him on numerous occasions, demanding action on the acts of terrorism that Patterson had been subjecting him to in order to blackmail him into selling his place. The rancher was always smart because there was never evidence left behind that would allow Ritter to make any charges hold up under scrutiny. For a time, Ritter was certain that things were going to escalate to a point where one of them would wind up dead. Yet when it had happened, it was nothing like what the sheriff had expected.
He supposed that it was more convenient to believe that someone else had killed Jesse Kincaid then one of his own neighbours. Ritter wondered whether his stubborn belief in Tanner's guilt was a result of that. While he was determined when Tanner had ridden back to town with his friends, to believe that it was a murderer that he was locking in his cell, too many inconsistencies were starting to appear that made him feel slivers of doubt burrowing into his skin.
"I do know that something is up Caleb and the only reason that you ain't in jail right now is because the man Larabee brought in here has refused to name you even though he squealed earlier."
"Careful sheriff," Patterson warned with sinister intent. "You ain't exactly untouchable either. You got a family in this town, best to consider them."
Ritter straightened up and glared at the man. "Is that threat Caleb?" He asked without a hint of fear in his voice, he would not give the man the satisfaction.
"It's a reminder." The man retorted and started towards the cells, not waiting for the sheriff to give him permission.
While Chris Larabee knew immediately who Caleb Patterson was by sight when the man stepped into the narrow walkway that ran along the jail cells, Vin did not. The tracker stared at the new arrival in question but recognised the look in Chris' eyes to know that this man was not a friend. Thanks to the incidents the night before, Ritter no longer demanded their guns while they were in his jailhouse, having decided that they were willing to let the law determine Vin's fate and not take matters into their own hands. Chris rose to his feet immediately upon seeing Patterson approaching the tracker's cell.
Vin and Chris had been talking about the ranch and how well the hearing had gone when the sharpshooter noticed the sudden tension in gunslinger's gait and the hardening of his jaw that immediately signalled trouble. Part of the exercise had been to lift the younger man's spirits although all of Chris' efforts were for nothing with Patterson's arrival. Following Chris' sharp gaze, he saw the man approaching and guessed that it must have been the rancher Patterson because Vin knew no one else in Tascosa who could engender such a reaction from Chris Larabee.
Patterson paused long enough to see the other prisoner in the first cell on the walk. The man did not speak as he met Patterson's gaze but a silent nod of understanding passed by them and the rancher continued his advance. It was obvious they knew each other even if none were willing to speak to incriminate themselves.
"Do something for you Patterson?" Chris asked smoothly, his eyes fixed on the rancher like sharp points of a knife. "Or did you come to see your boy in there?" He gestured to his would be assassin. "I'd be careful if I were you, man has a weak constitution."
"Fuck you Larabee!" The man in question shouted in anger at the insult.
Chris did not respond but a little smirk crossed the gunslinger's face as he kept his eyes trained on Patterson who appeared nonplussed about the revelation.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Patterson said showing no signs being baited as he reached Vin's cell and looked the sharpshooter over distastefully. "So you're Tanner."
"You're Patterson." Vin replied eying the man who in all likelihood had as much to do with the death of Jesse Kincaid as Ely Joe. While he might not have pulled the trigger, he certainly had quite a bit to do with the aim.
"What do you want?" Chris asked gruffly, certain that Patterson was not here for a social call. After last nights failed attempt at trying to kill them all, Chris wondered what Patterson's next move was going to be.
"Just hear to have a friendly chat with Tanner and to tell him the way things are." Patterson said with a calculating smile and turned his attention to Vin. "I don't suppose we can't have a private little conversation?" He glanced at Chris, not really expecting his request to be granted.
"You supposed right." Vin retorted shortly. "Now get on with it."
"Not much to say really," Patterson shrugged, not at all perturbed by the man's demeanour. "Just don't assume a smart talking lawyer is going to save your ass. Everyone knows you killed Kincaid and by the time I'm done with you, everyone in Amarillo will know it too."
"We'll see about that." Chris spoke up before Vin could.
"It might just be easier if you just confessed Tanner," the rancher continued, getting to the heart of the matter. "It save everyone a lot of grief, all around. You're gonna be found guilty anyway, why not spare the bloodshed and just admit it."
"I didn't kill Kincaid." Vin hissed, the man's cool manner while making his speech angered Vin more than it ought to especially since it was more than likely that Patterson had hired Ely Joe to kill Kincaid in the first place.
"Of course you did," Patterson replied. "You killed Kincaid and if you know what's good for you, you'll get rid of that fancy lawyer and just admit it."
"Or what?" Chris stiffened, inches away from beating the daylights out of the man for the sheer satisfaction of it even though it would avail him nothing and probably land him a day in the cell next to Vin. Then again, some things were worth that kind of trouble and Patterson was quickly qualifying as being more than valuable in this respect.
"Or who knows what would happen?" Patterson continued his verbal barrage. "It'd be a shame if anything happened to that nice old lady and her nigger maid."
Shit.
Chris swore under his breath as he saw the realisation dawn upon Vin about what Patterson had inadvertently revealed in his threat. The tracker forgot all about Patterson and immediately shifted his gaze to Chris. "Alex is here? When did she get here?" He demanded even though this was the absolute worse time in Chris' opinion to carry out such a conversation.
Chris threw Patterson a venomous look and then decided that perhaps a day in jail was not such a waste if he got to beat the crap out of this sneering bastard. However at the moment, Vin was waiting for an answer and Chris could not bring himself to keep the truth away from Vin any more than he had been forced to already. "She arrived the same day that Nettie did." Chris admitted reluctantly. "She thought you'd hate if she saw you in here so she made us all promise not to tell you."
"So the nigger ain't no maid." Patterson grinned, stumbling onto valuable information. He should have suspected it by the description given to him by one of his men who had been positive in his praise about her appearance being quite extraordinary.
"Don't call her that!" Vin reacted swiftly, slipping his hand through the bars so fast that Patterson did not have time to move away until the tracker's fist had knotted around his duster and slammed him up against the bars. Patterson's head made an ugly whack against Vin's cell and the tracker leaned in close to offer a warning of his own with a voice so cold that it sent a shiver of ice down Chris' spine hearing it. "If you hurt either Alex or Nettie, I'll come for you and by God, I'll get you. Make no mistake on that."
"Tanner let him go." Ritter ordered, attracted by the commotion and stepped into the narrow walkway to see Patterson's face pressed against the bars of the prisoner's cell.
Vin glared at Patterson who had realised in that instant just how serious the tracker was on this point by the menace the rancher saw in the dark points of his eyes. "I'm in here," Vin added. "Because I want my name cleared. Don't mean I can't get out if I don't set my mind to it. I find that you've done anything to Alex, I will kill you and it won't happen as quickly as you made Ely Joe do for Kincaid." With that he released the man who stumbled back shaken, right into Chris.
Patterson whirled around and stared at the gunslinger's face. "If he don't get you, I will." Chris added with just as much lethal intensity for Patterson to know that he was taking his life into his hands by making any move against either Alex or Nettie.
Ritter intervened at this point; allowing the two lawmen from Four Corners to have their say and was somewhat pleased to give them the opportunity after his own confrontation with Patterson earlier. The sheriff tried to stifle a smile as he looked at the rancher. "I think you're done here Caleb."
Patterson stepped away from the cell and Chris Larabee as Ritter waited to escort him out of the building. He threw both men a look and reminded them of his own warning, even if it sounded less impressive this time around. "Just remember what I said." He swallowed, sounding somewhat feeble as he stumbled out of the room with Ritter following closely after him.
When they were alone again, Vin turned to Chris. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"She made me promise Vin." Chris replied, feeling no guilt about what he had done because Alex was his friend too.
Vin nodded in understanding even though his desire to see Alex was even more potent now than it had been earlier, if such a thing was possible. In retrospect, it should not have surprised him to learn that Alex was in Tascosa, realising that she would never have consented to staying behind and let Nettie make this trip alone. While he was pleased that she was here, more than pleased actually, ecstatic that Alex was within reach even if he could not see her, Vin suddenly feared for her life.
"I'm sorry Chris," Vin surprised the gunslinger with an apology when it was Chris who was keeping things from the tracker.
"I shouldn't have let him know how things are between me and Alex," he continued. "He's going to go after her now."
"Yep," Chris nodded, seeing no reason to lie about that. "But you don't got to worry about it. I won't let anything happen to Alex or Nettie."
Vin looked at the older man and knew that he could be assured of that much and was secretly glad to know that when he looked out at the stars tonight, Alex would be doing the same.