part 10

Vin lay in his bed roll and stared up at the night sky. The slowly shifting positions of the constellations marked the passage of time. It was so bright but still not enough light to risk tracking their friends through the water. The sharpshooter listened to the campfire snap and pop. The branches were slightly wet still clinging to their spring moisture. The hissing of released steam added to the back round noise. Tanner knew he was not the only one laying awake. Josiah and Nathan both lay silently in their respective blankets.

Those two were formidable when it came to snoring. Buck had once joked that a night watch was not needed when Sanchez and Jackson laid down to sleep. The combined noise alone would keep potential marauders away. This had earned the ladies man a few chuckles and two scathing looks.

Tanner kept his eyes on the night sky. He listened as JD continued to toss and roll. The kid could not keep still even in sleep. Standish had once remarked that between the ungodly sounds emanating from the depths of Jackson and Sanchez and Dunne's inability to keep still it was a wonder anyone got rest at all.

Vin bit back a chuckle at the memory. Josiah had been in a foul mood during that comment and hauled the gambler out of camp and tossed him into a nearby river. No more comments had been uttered about snoring.

Tanner felt a rock under his lower back and fished a hand blindly under his makeshift bedding. He tossed the jaggered stone a few yards away listening as it bounced and rolled along the hard packed dirt. His frustration seemed tangible.

"Don't worry brother we will find them in time," Josiah's soft baritone voice floated over the small camp.

Vin did not bother answering. What was the point? They were going to find Buck and Chris the there was never any doubt in his mind. What he dreaded and feared most....what if they were to late? What if Buck and Chris were better at hiding their trail? What if Vin missed something along the way. Would his lack of education his lack of skill be his undoing?

Tanner closed his eyes. He did not believe in the Deity of other White Men. He did not hold much stock in a system that slaughtered the very People that raised him. If Vin had learned one thing since acquainting himself with these other six men it was trust. Tanner had no problem in trusting people it was just later he would regret it. Unlike Standish who found subterfuge in every act of kindness. Tanner searched for kindness in every outwardly cruel act. Funny Vin thought that he should learn something from the slithering conman. Yet Ezra in actions alone had entrenched in Tanner the need to cover all his bets. Don't leave anything to chance. When one stood alone and faced outrageous odds it was always in ones best interest to learn all possible avenues of escape.

Vin would do no different in this situation. It was with a tentative quiet voice, "Josiah ya wouldn't mind..."

Sanchez smiled under the broad brim of his hat. He too stared up at the heavens. Instead of marking the slow passage of time he was carrying on a monologue. Hopefully the right 'spirits' were listening.

"Already done brother," Josiah answered. He would save Vin the humility of having to ask a favor from a friend. Especially a favor that would delve into a realm Tanner did not woefully believe in just yet...maybe never. Sanchez would not push his beliefs or his father's teachings onto the others. Josiah watched the bright tail of a shooting star. How could he pass on his believes when he himself did not know where his faith may actually lay. What were his believes what Cannons did he live by? Sanchez had no answers. His faith was as muddled and misdirected as a silt lined puddle. Yes, Josiah would spare Vin the hypocrisy of having to ask for a prayer from a God in which Tanner had no true faith.

JD listened to the brief conversation. Tears fell unseen. He curled on himself feeling the salty tears cut paths across the bridge of his nose. If Vin was asking for such a favor then things were in deed terribly wrong. Dunne kept his misery to himself. The others did not need the added burden of his weakness, or so he thought. He brushed angrily at his running nose. Here he was a grown man crying over the helplessness of the situation. He knew Vin and Josiah weren't shedding tears. Nathan was not visibly shaking over the enormous responsibility that was about to befall his shoulders. No, the other three men stood and faced the hardships that fell murderously upon their small family. Only himself, JD, crumbled to tears. He was weak. Again he muffled a sniffle, choked back a sob and fought with himself to be as tough as the others....to be as confident as Vin and as rock stable as Josiah. If only he had Nathan's brains and skill maybe he could of some help to this group. Instead he was just a sniveling kid afraid of losing his best friend and his hero.

What of Standish? JD felt another tear roll across his nose. Damn tears. Ezra wouldn't be crying he would be doing everything he could to help Chris and Buck. Dunne's breath hitched again....what if the brothers shot Ezra or hurt him too so he could not help them. Oh Gawd...the tears came in earnest. Dunne muffled his sobs biting his lip. He was so weak. So terribly weak..a momma's boy.

Nathan lay on his side listening to JD fight back his tears. The kid. Jackson had empathy like that once. They all did. Each and everyone one of them had lost that special gift. Somewhere along the way the empathy had been beaten, stolen, cheated or just plain buried. The other six actively tried not to put themselves in someone else's boots.

Not JD. It was what made him strong in most aspects. His gift really. In this case his possible undoing. It was this empathy the others had tried to preserve in their young friend. It was JD who, in his naiveté gave the benefit of the doubt. He felt others' pain. Dunne never acted without realizing what he would be imparting on those he acted against. The death of Annie had nearly killed the boy. He took a life a terrible, horrible accident. Dunne had felt that death had put himself in the shoes of those kids whose mother had been stolen from them. Stolen from them because of his bullet. JD had taken their mother just as his mother had been taken from him...to soon and too young.

Now in the middle of the night amongst hardened men the young man hid his fear. Jackson wanted nothing more than to ease JD's pain. He wanted to impart to the young Bostonian that it was this very gift that made him strong. It was not something to hide, he did not need to bury his pain from those he considered friends.

Jackson did not know how to approach the boy. Instead he settled for watching him from under hooded eyes. Nathan admired the youngest in the group who was still able to express his grief and fear.

Nathan hoped Josiah's prayer found a sympathetic entity. Maybe an angel with JD's heart would hear the silent plea and act on their behalf.

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

The grey of a false dawn lit up the sky. A few thin clouds dotted the slate colored morning. Standish slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. He held his coats tightly closed. The morning dew had settled heavily on everything even himself.

He really hated the outdoors.

The small moderate fire still blazed. For the fifth time Ezra made his way over to the two fallen friends. The bleeding had stopped in Buck's wound. Thank goodness. Maybe there was hope after all. Chris had become more and more coherent each time Standish woke him. This pleased the cardsharp to no end.

The southerner did not want the responsibility of the other men's lives resting in his slippery hands. He was adept at watching out for only one life...his own. Even his horse would fend for itself when push came to shove. It was a cruel world they lived in and Standish was no fool. Watch out for number one...then if circumstances permitted it one could then dabble in the foolish acts of a good Samaritan. Ezra had to admit he found some personally fulfilling rewards in such unselfish acts but normally he performed said duties purely by mistake.

It was not in his nature or in his experience to tend to those who held no immediate advantage for his own personal stakes.

So what the devil was he doing here..soaking wet, cold and trying to save the life of a one Buck Wilmington? There was nothing to be gained from said actions. Not monetary..No money had nothing to do with it.

If Buck died it would hurt. Plain and simple. It would hurt...just thinking about it brought a physical pain to Standish. Ezra bit back his rising panic. Oh God don't take Buck. The unnerved southerner shot a quick look in the direction of the two gunslingers. The both breathed. One shallow in the normal rhythm of sleep and the other raggard and to deep. Not Buck please not Buck.

Ezra wiped his face with both hands trying to gain his composure. All he had to do was get Chris on his feet and hopefully shift some of the burden onto Larabee. Yes share the weight. Together they could keep Buck alive long enough for Nathan to reach them.

Oh God, Nathan wasn't coming.....Standish in a fit of frustration threw more wood onto the fire. Jackson was in town reveling in the tranquility wrought by the absence of the others. No...no..no.. this was not fair. They needed Nathan.

Standish gripped his coffee cup and sipped from the near empty mug. It was time to get Chris up and moving. The gambler pushed himself to stiff sore legs. The muscles had become cramped do to the cold raw weather. With stiffness born of a man burdened with more than usual, the southerner crossed the small grassy space to the two sleeping men.

The gambler knelt beside the blond man. The bullets passage was marked by a shallow furrow in the skin and a spectacular shade of maroons and blues...some deep enough to match more than a few of Standish's duck tailed coats.

With a simple nudge to the shoulder, Larabee bolted up right. His hazel eyes wild searching left and right.

"Are you alright Mr. Larabee?" Ezra asked to tired and cold to put much concern into his voice. Buck was his biggest worry.

"How's Buck?" Chris bit out. He was getting sick and tired of Standish waking him up.

"He is alive," Ezra answered as he made his way over to the ladies man to check the bandages.

"Leave that," Chris said again. His rough voice was raw. There was a cold edge to it that caused the Southerner to look up.

Larabee noted the questionable expression on the haggard features of the southerner. Chris did not mean to be so brusque. His head hurt, his stomach bubbled with violent tendencies and he was tired. Bone tired. All Larabee wanted to do was curl up and go back to sleep. He could not. Would not..Buck needed help. Wilmington hung to life with a loosening grasp.

Chris was not mad at Standish, not in the slightest. The damn gambler was out of his element working under conditions he had avoided all his adult life. The conman had pulled another trick out of his hat....Wilmington survived the night.

Larabee did not intend to make Standish a target of his frustration. It was not done with premeditation at all. Anger was a knee jerk reaction. Rage was easier and more satisfying to deal with than worry and fear.

What if Buck died? No, Chris would not think like that...he would not let his thoughts race down those rails. Instead Chris acted in a manner that best suited him. He lashed out. He gave orders without explanation expecting them to be followed because he uttered them...more importantly because Buck needed it. Action was always preferable to stewing. They needed to be moving.

Unfortunately those commands fell on the one person in the seven who would not follow blindly. Demands were thrust at a man who floundered all night in the turbulent seas of forced actions. Chris refused to see this and Standish failed to uncover the true motivations that pushed Larabee. Both men fell back on what they knew.

One spit orders and the other balked. The old friction was back but the levity was seriously lacking.

Standish threw a caustic glare at Larabee, 'Did Larabee blame him some how for this mess?'

When Standish hesitated in moving Chris seethed, "Git the horses ready we're movin' down into the canyon." He left no room for argument, he left no leeway for discussion. The dark clad gunslinger rolled unsteadily to his knees and with some difficulty crawled over to Wilmington.

Standish stared at him with an unmasked look of astonishment. Ezra was about to spit back a reply of his own but hesitated again. What more could he have done last night? He got the bleeding stopped. Mr. Wilmington made it through the night. Standish acted and reacted with everything in his arsenal. What did Mr. Larabee expect from him? What more could Chris possibly want from him?

"Git movin'" Chris hissed out again. They had to get to the bottom of the Canyon. That was their best chance of running across Tanner. If Larabee knew Vin, then Tanner had already figured out where they were headed. The short cut Standish had shown them was a curse in disguise. Vin would not have known about it and Buck had done a commendable job covering their tracks.

Tanner was sure to lose them trying to follow them through the water so he would head to Devil's Canyon and hope to pick up their trail there. It is what Chris would do.

"Mr. Larabee you can't be serious," Ezra stammered out. The blow to the head had to be affecting the gunfighter more severely then Standish originally thought. "Mr. Wilmington will just start bleeding again." The conman did not try hiding his incredulous shock. Why would they even risk moving the Ladies Man? It was madness.

"Ezra shut yer damn mouth and git the horses," Chris's hand fell to the butt of his gun. It was an absent minded move. He was not even conscious that he had made it. A natural reaction to his rising anger and frustration. Larabee wanted nothing more than to keep Buck still. He understood the risks he took by bringing Wilmington down into the depths of the canyon. Chris could not bear to risk missing Tanner. Vin could search the canyon for days before realizing the others had never made it down there.

Splitting up? No...Chris would not risk sending Ezra down into the bowels of the Canyon alone. The place was a natural maze of dead ends and circling paths. A man unused to such places could wander for days retracing their steps without ever realizing it. In this spring heat with drying watering holes it would be a murderous thing to do. Sending Ezra alone into the canyon would be no different than shooting him.

Besides the Donavon brothers were still lurking close by. Larabee could feel it. The gunslinger hated to admit it but right now Standish held the steadiest hand and therefore offered the best defense should the two brothers decide to come back.

Chris contemplated going himself but then he left Buck in the hands of the gambler. Though Ezra had already proved his capabilities in tending the wounded Larabee hesitated. His faith in the conman was not in question. What if Buck died? What if Wilmington passed from this life and Chris did not have a chance to say good bye? What if Chris came back only to find Buck had died while he was gone......just like before. No, Larabee would not separate the group. They would face their enemies together and face the burden of death as a small group.

The situation flowed with helplessness.

Chris stared at the gambler. Didn't the foolish man realize that Vin would be approaching the Canyon from the West End and they themselves sat on the East Rim. There was no way Vin would know they were up there. While Ezra and he waited up on the rim for Tanner,,,Vin would be searching the bottom of the Canyon oblivious to their location.

Ezra did not shift his eyes from Chris's face. His peripheral vision had spotted the hand resting on the butt of the gun. Standish knew first hand that Larabee would do anything to protect his men. The man would fight any individual, he would go up against any odds to protect one of his own. Standish had been on the receiving end of such rabid protection. It scared him when he realized just how determined Chris could be in ensuring the safety of his 'family'. Ezra himself sat within that realm, but Standish knew Buck was near the epicenter.

Standish found it funny that he did not really fear for his own life when Chris rested a practiced hand on the butt of his revolver. Ezra was shocked, he felt frightened for Buck's safety.

Some kind of twisted logic drove Larabee. Ezra could not fathom it. Standish understood the desperation and fear that drove Chris. The gambler felt it himself.

Without a word Ezra headed for the horses.

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

part 11

Cole and Devlin rested on their bellies in the tall grass. They had watched the small camp from afar. The two brothers smiled. Wilmington was suffering. They watched as the gambler tended the fallen men. This suited Cole just fine. Let the southern man fix up Wilmington it would serve their purposes in the long run anyhow. The gunslinger would linger longer.

The oldest brother nearly laughed out loud as he watched the gambler gather the horses. They three men were moving out. Larabee was a fool. He was keeping company with two dead men.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Vin lead the way through the stream. Peso kept his pace even and methodical. He understood the position of his rider. Things were serious. Horse and rider had done this many times before. This time however the mount picked up on his riders anxiety. Unlike the brash gelding that snorted and stomped behind them, Peso became even more cautious. The gelding did not fight the rein, did not dance or toss his head. Instead the black settled down and slowed his pace. The time for speed would becoming. It always came later.

Josiah's chestnut acted as a buffer between Peso and JD's nervous bay. The preacher held a tight rein on his horse and growing frustration. Sanchez pushed his hat back off his forehead and stared at the broad leafed trees that dotted the area. A crow sat mutely on the highest branch. Sanchez focused on the black harbinger of death and willed it away. When that failed he pulled his gun and fired a round.

The sharp report of pistol fire sent the bird lazily into the morning sky. Heads swiveled in panic and surprise.

"Just trying to keep the devil at bay," Sanchez explained not disguising his disgust. The large black bird settled, unruffled, back on its perch. The other three men followed the preachers gaze and saw the ebony symbol of death. The giant winged creature returned the stares as if mocking them. The small area suddenly erupted with gun fire as the four men drew their guns and fired in random. The bird in panicky haste launched itself from the shattered bullet ridden branch. It cried out in fury as it sought safety in light blue sky. The tree branch riddled with holes, bark torn from its skin fell to the water below with a small splash.

Josiah smiled slyly to himself. Let that be a lesson to any spirit that wished to bring foul play upon the seven.

A Raven, please let it be a Raven, JD begged silently.

Jackson's roan hung back slightly. It was used to fast paced traveling on the get go and slow returns. This was something different. Normally his rider saddled him in a huff and kicked him into a gallop or a fast ground eating trot. Their destination normally a barn or small modest homestead. The gelding was familiar with those actions. This was unusual. There was a need for speed. The gelding could feel it in the seat of his rider and in the tensions of the reins and yet his rider held him back. The gelding would abide for now. When asked it would cover ground rapidly and easily but until then it was content to follow the others.

Tanner paused at most of the tributaries. He cursed Buck. The large grey gelding had danced his way up many of the small rivers only to return again. It ate precious time. It had been Wilmington's intention and it succeeded. With each new convergence the others would wait in silent impatience as Vin searched the water. He would focus past the glittering moving water onto the rocky bed and try to read the signs. A slow tedious process that had everyone on edge. After a few minutes Vin would egg them onward.

They continued like this for most of the morning. Vin followed the slight shod scrapings on the rocky bed. They passed yet another tributary. It appeared as if Buck's Grey had traveled up it. Probably another false lead. Tanner decided to ignore it. Devil's Canyon lay before them a day and a half ride. That was where Chris was headed. The tracker would try and play the odds, take a risk and head straight there. In the canyon on the sandy flooring he would find their tracks and make up time then. They strode past the tributary.

JD recognized this small stream. His guts twisted in knots. His heart hammered in his chest. He had already angered Vin yesterday. He knew the others had heard him crying last night and it shamed him. Vin and the others were smarter than he ever hoped to be. They knew more about signs and people than JD could every learn in a life time.

Dunne knew this stream...he knew where it lead. JD made a decision.

The young Sheriff pulled back on his reins fighting his gelding to a halt. The bay danced and splashed in the water. It shook its head trying to wrestle more reins so it could go further, keep up with the others. JD fought the horse, fought his fear and held his ground.

Vin and Josiah noticed the increased fight between horse and rider. Vin turned in his saddle annoyance and anxiety written clearly on his face. He wanted JD to read his expression so Tanner would not have to use words to make his point.

Josiah did not bother interfering. He had seen crows. Crows...who had they lost? Did they lose both men?

"JD what're ya doin'?" Tanner was forced to ask.

"This goes to Devil's Canyon," JD's voice was low and wavered with fear. He did not want to incur the anger of these men, his friends.

"JD quit wastin' time," Jackson answered for Vin. They did not have time for this kind of argument. Nathan could only hope they reached the others before the poison, whatever it maybe, did irreversible damage.

"JD that ain't the way ta Devil's Canyon," Tanner spoke slowly trying to contain his impatience.

"Yeah it is, you can go this way too," Dunne spoke again. His voice became stronger as he was forced to face more than one front. Nathan behind him Vin in front of him. Where did Josiah rest in all this?

"No ya can't J..." Vin started to say but Josiah cut him off. The larger preacher did not want to fight, not now. When they did find the others and if one should be gone from them, fighting will only serve to hurt them further.

"What makes you so sure son?" Sanchez used a tender tone. He did not want to scare the kid any more than he already was at the moment. If JD felt strongly enough to stand up not only to Vin but Nathan and himself then Dunne had a reason for it. They would hear him out.

"Well ya remember when ya got all mad at Ezra for the collection basket scam?" Dunne started off tentatively. Josiah had become demonic in his intentions of dismembering the conman.

The others nodded. Sanchez felt slightly ashamed of his blind rage but then again it was somewhat justified.

"Well I followed him out of town...just to make sure he was alright..." JD stammered not sure how far to go with this little tale. His dark eyes fell to Jackson.

Nathan blushed slightly. Though Josiah had never got his hands on the slithering thief....Jackson had...and belted him good right in the head...a couple of times. The healer had been so outraged he had not even considered his actions might have been witnessed. It was not that Nathan was sorry for his violent outburst. He wasn't. Someone had to teach the southern fool the difference between right and wrong. If that entailed a small burst of violence then so be it. Nathan never considered he was observed. Apparently JD witnessed it. Jackson was not a violent man by nature but his world bred physical confrontations and sometimes that was just plain difficult to ignore.

"What's your point JD?" Tanner asked wiping his brow.

"Ezra went to Devil's Canyon, he took this stream," JD explained. When no one said anything JD's speech quickened with fear, "he made Devil's Canyon before late afternoon."

This developed the desired results. Vin, Josiah and Nathan shared incredulous looks.

"Yeah think Ezra told Chris?" Vin asked out loud.

"With money involved?....Yup," Josiah answered.

"Bet Chris and Buck listened too," Nathan finished the thought.

Tanner lead the way up the stream. Each man gave JD a congratulatory pat on the back.

For the first time since this mess started JD smiled.

continue

back to title page