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part6

Vin lead the four other men out of town. He did not bother following Larabee's original trail. JD had marked where the threesome had switched direction. Tanner's blue eyes strained under the moon light trying to read the signs in the hard clay. Devil's Canyon. They were heading for the Canyon. Vin followed the twisting meandering trail trying his best to ignore the jittering movements of the gelding beside him. Tanner had thought about heading straight for the place but Jackson's made a good point.

What if Chris and Buck don't make it to the canyon? What if they fall sick before they reach their destination? Ezra would most likely stick with them and try to help them the best he could. The damn Southerner would stay close and watch helplessly as two friends died.

Would Standish recognize the signs of poisoning?

Nathan wanted to know what kind of poison. The sketchy description that JD had over heard could have been any number of things. Besides what if the two young men who masterminded this plot picked the wrong weed or plant. How did they know how to dose it? How familiar with the poison were the two vengeful outlaws? Was there a cure? All these questions swirled relentlessly through Nathan's mind. God help them.

Josiah rode silently in the back. The lighthearted game had taken a murderous angle. The preacher gazed up at the bright night sky and wondered what kind of twisted humor brought such trials to men. They could not follow the two young men. No one had seen which way they rode out of town. None of the others wanted to waste time trying to pick up their trail when they knew which direction Chris and Buck had taken.

JD kept his bay under control Both horse and rider fed off each other's frenzy. Dunne was no stranger to horses and understood the need for a calm seat. Still his gelding felt the charged energy from his rider and pranced in response. Dunne kept his mouth shut. He did not want to interfere with Vin's tracking. Buck! Only you could find trouble out in the middle of no where! Do I have to look out for you all the time? Darn it Buck you had better be alright cuz when we find you I'm gonna strangle you myself. Dunne seethed under the halting pace they were forced to keep. Maybe Ezra was right, rules were for the losers. JD and the others had followed the rules and now they just might lose two friends over it. Dunne silently prayed to his mom, she always knew what to do, well before she took sick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris lounged back on his saddle resting his hands behind his head. He watched slightly amused as the cardsharp finished a second cup of coffee. Figures he liked it when no one else did.

"Ezra we leave at first light," Larabee pointed out. He did not know what it was about coffee but if he drank it to late at night he never fell asleep. It normally took a couple of stiff shots of whiskey to help him doze off after consuming coffee.

"What a surprise Mr. Larabee," Standish dead panned. He rested the empty mug next to his saddle bags. First light. Didn't anyone enjoy a good nights sleep other than himself? The gambler lay on his bed roll resting his head on the saddle. He had put the saddle blanket under the roll in an attempt to soften the ground and add some insulation against the cold.

Larabee turned his head as he heard Buck rumble from under his bed roll, "Flipp'n moon is brighter than the morn'n sun." Wilmington grumbled something else and then immediately stopped.

Chris sat up, "Bright enough to ride by even."

Buck wiggled out from under his blankets, "Maybe even track by," his insinuations clear.

Ezra watched the clipped conversation with growing apprehension. They could not be serious. It was freezing out. Bad enough they had to sleep outside on the frozen ground. Those two could not possibly be serious.

Without further words to one another the two men scrambled to their feet, "Vin's out tonight," Buck whispered with exasperation. The man was a damn blood hound on the scent.

"Yup," Chris agreed. He and Buck started breaking up camp. Larabee's gaze fell to the unmoving gambler.

"Come on Ezra git your butt up where movin out now," Chris's tone left no room for argument.

Standish made room, "What happened to first light?" Ezra slowly extracted himself from the warm confines of his sleeping rolls. Right now he would take a few hours of rest over no hours of rest.

"Move it Ezra," Chris said softly. The threat rolled across the small camp. It brought a curse to Standish and a smile to Buck.

Chris lead the other two down a twisting turning trail. The dry soil rolled under the horses feet as they made wove amongst the small twisted plants that struggled to survive in unforgiving environment. Rolling hills rose around them offering a dark wave like impressions against the unusually bright night. The horses picked their way cautiously following the movements and foot placements of the one in front of them.

Chris with subtle leg commands directed his mount off the trail. Without hesitation and with well earned trust the black gelding slid from the path like a shadow. The soft clop of shoes on packed dirt became muffled as they entered into a tall browning grassy hill. They would traverse here cut along the ridge, getting a view of Devil's canyon and then pick their way down into its depths.

The Buck whistled quietly to himself. He loved the night. The moon accented the beauty of the area. The freedom and thrill of the chase added to his enthusiasm. His Grey felt it. Though it's walk was smooth the grey stretched out it's long legs in ground eating strides. Its nostrils flared and eyes swiveled as it kept pace behind the familiar black gelding. Yes this was a familiar sensation a familiar scenario. The grey knew they would be on the trail a long time. No more sitting in stalls or livery corrals. It was out on the trail and from the feel of it they would be out for quite awhile. That was fine with the grey. Like its owner, the gelding relished the freedom and work of being on the move. The Grey shook its head achieving its goal, more reins to allow freer movements. Buck smiled and complied to his horse's request.

Ezra sighed quietly. Good thing he had the coffee. This looked liked it was going to be along night. Larabee would push until they reached the canyon. Standish closed his eyes and fell into an easy rhythm with his horse. The chestnut moved gracefully and slowly. It felt no sense of urgency. There had been no raised voices, no shouting, no frantic movements from his master. They were on the trail but not being chased. The gelding would not waste its energy trying to keep pace with the other two. The chestnut kept them in sight, watched their movements and foot placements and mimicked them at his own pace. Until his master asked for speed the quarter horse would keep his leisurely pace.

Chris peered over his shoulder. Buck and his Grey kept pace easily. The big gelding was just pleased to be out of town, much like its owner. Larabee squinted his eyes and focused on the lagging third in their party. Larabee shook his head, he should have known. Standish and his fool horse were two of a kind. Neither moved unless absolutely necessary. When it was deemed necessary then one had better watch out. The Chestnut had the same attitude as its owner. It would roll with only so much before it balked.

Larabee swiveled back around. Dear ol' Vin did not stand a chance. Tanner was good. There was no doubt. Chris had never seen a better tracker. Larabee smiled but Vin had never had to hunt down Buck or himself. No things had been easy on Vin lately, his skill had not been tested very much. Chris settled into the saddle and leaned back giving the Black his head. Yeah, Vin and the others would realize just how difficult it was to track someone who knew what they were doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cole and Devlin had watched in dismay as the threesome rode the ridge. The three lawmen were silhouettes against the moonlit sky. Larabee and Wilmington rode one behind the other and the gambler trod a few yards behind them.

"Ya think they drank the coffee?" Devlin asked. What if they had not. What if their plans were falling apart. Even in the dark Devlin could see the anger rise in his older brother. See yes, but one could feel it. Hatred and frustration emanated from his brother like waves of heat. The old Cole was buried again. The smile and smugness slipped from his features. The cold mask of fury fell into place. Devlin cursed the three men. It was their fault. All they had to do was drink the blasted coffee. Drink the swill get sick and die. Cole would come back. Cole would be his old self again and they would be a family.

" 'Ow the hell should I know," Cole spat out. Couldn't the damn kid keep his mouth shut? What did Devlin want from him?

Devlin shied slightly from the sharp rebuke. Cole was mad at him again. Without Cole he would have no family. His older brother was all he had in this world. Devlin needed him and Cole needed Devlin.....or so the youngest brother hoped. It was just sometimes, sometimes Devlin was under the impression that his older brother wanted him gone. Sometimes Cole looked at Devlin as if the youngest reminded him of a pain that was still fresh.

"Maybe we could....." Devlin started to mutter quietly.

"Do what!?" Cole hissed out in anger. Why couldn't the kid just shut up and let him think? He turned away from his youngest brother. Devlin was his biggest responsibility. Cole turned his back on his brother and faced the two men he yearned to kill. The kid might come first but the demise of Larabee and Wilmington was paramount. Once this was done Devlin and he would be a family again.

Devlin hunkered down in his saddle trying to create distance from the anger of his brother. He only wanted to help.

"I don't know, just shoot'em maybe," Devlin offered meekly. He wished this business was over. Liam would not come back even with the miserable death of the two lawmen.

Cole swung around. His fist was balled in rage. He had never struck his little brother before, well not out of anger. Cole caught himself. The fear in Devlin's shadowed eyes was unmistakable. Cole swore under his breath. His baby brother feared him. He was doing all this for Devlin. Didn't the kid understand?

Shoot them? Cole stared at his younger brother as the words rang through his mind. Just shoot them. Not as elaborate, not as safe as they had planned but...why not? They would get this business over with and move on to bigger and better things.

Devlin watched his brother. He feared Cole would actually hit him. Cole had never hit him unless they were rough housing or something. Never, never out of fury. Devlin watched his brother closely. If Cole hit him then he would have deserved it. If there was one thing the youngest Donavon knew and that was the oldest were always the wisest.

"I think yer onto something Dev." Cole smiled out. Simple. Quick...Perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vin's gelding trod carefully adjacent to the path. It understood the mood its owner was in tonight. They were on the hunt. The horse adjusted its gait. It would not waste its energy fighting the rein. Not like the wild bay gelding beside him.

"Dang it JD!" Vin raised his voice as Dunne's gelding stomped and skidded on the dirt trail. JD realizing what his horse had done pulled it quickly off the trail into the grass and continued to prance about. His Quarter horse's powerful hindquarters jarred into Vin's mount.

Dunne harshly cursed his bay and violently yanked it back over the trail to the other side effectively creating distance between himself and Vin. The Bay responded to the nervous energy with a more jolting, jittery, gait.

"Sorry Vin," A thoroughly cowed JD answered back in apology. He hung his head as his heart raced. 'Dang horse why don't ya just listen to me?' Had Dunne given it much thought he would have realized the animal was listening to everything his rider imparted to it.

"Easy brothers," Josiah intoned from behind. The tension had been building. JD and his beloved bay felt it and fed off it. Their youthful excitement had charged the atmosphere. With the bright moonlight, the foursome made for a ghost like images. Apparitions really, figures sliding quietly on a the trail, with apprehension filling in their wake. Sanchez tried to turn his morbid thoughts but found he could not do so successfully.

"How the hell do ya expect me to..." Vin started and then stopped noticing the wounded posture in JD. They were all worried about Chris and Buck. Tanner had never felt such urgency before when tracking others. If he was not fast enough Chris could die. They had to move quicker, he knew it but if they moved to fast then they would miss something. JD was just anxious. They all were even Josiah and Nathan. "It's jist harder to read their trail if ya steppin' on it JD," Tanner explained unnecessarily.

Dunne merely nodded his head. Tears threatened to spill over his eyes. No, he was tougher than that, so wasn't Buck. Buck would not succumb to any stupid poison. No way, not Buck. Dunne settled himself in his seat tried to relax his hands and not fight with his horse.

Nathan watched the two younger men. He held his tongue, barely. They were wasting time talking. The quicker they got to the two men the better. If a poison sat to long in the body then the likely hood for a successful antidote became very small. If there was in fact an antidote to be found. The more time they wasted arguing on the trail the more likely they were going to lose two good friends. Joining into the argument would get them nowhere.

Josiah held his breath. There was time for fighting later. Sanchez prayed Standish knew enough on how to help his two ailing friends. Would Ezra push them to the canyon to ensure victory in the bet? Would Standish leave them and head to the canyon himself in hopes of winning? The lure of a bet, the smell of wager and the clang of coin was a vice the gambler seemed unable to ignore. Sanchez prayed that Ezra would feel the pull of responsibility of friendship and family and stay by his two ailing friends. After the collection box incident Josiah knew it would take a miracle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck kept the balance of his seat as his grey danced and stretched along the ridge. The wind had turned brisk and bit through clothing. Wilmington smiled. Ezra would be earning his money this time. Wilmington watched as Chris led them off the ridge. The gunslinger and his black gelding were solid configuration of black shapes. The two moved as one. They communicated without word or overt motion. Horse and rider pre-empted each others intentions.

Buck remember there was a time when he and Chris had been almost the same way. A time when Chris and himself knew each others thoughts knew each others motivations. Times had changed both men. Wilmington had willingly took responsibility of JD. Chris was better now. He did not need Buck's constant company or observations. Larabee had found an anchor in Four Corners and the violent death of Sara and Adam had started to come under control. Buck loosened his tether on his friend.

JD needed the constant guidance. It was different with JD. Buck did not have to worry who the kid would kill in a drunken rage, or who the kid might threaten when a dark mood attempted to drown him. Instead Wilmington faced the strange but refreshing battle of keeping the kid out of harms way. He kept JD from falling victim to others drunken rage, or wild impulses of violence. Wilmington's techniques had changed. His protectorate had switched but the goals remained the same. He worked hard to keep JD safe just as he had with Chris.

Vin had Chris now. Buck happily reneged his responsibility. Wilmington's hands had become chapped and cracked from holding back the reins that kept Larabee somewhat civil. Vin thankfully filled the slot. With Vin Tanner and Four Corners nursing Larabee, Buck quietly slipped from the part he had played. Every time Buck watched Chris and Vin share a beer or a whiskey, Wilmington thanked Vin silently or with a simple nod of the head. The Lady's man and Sharpshooter understood the shift in responsibility and welcomed it.

The wind became buffered once they left the ridge and started their slow decent toward the Plateau. From the plateau they would hit the steep rolling trail that descended into the bowels of the canyon.

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