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part 12a I do perceive here a divided duty...Shakespeare, Othello
Larabee matched Wilmington´s gaze. Buck still leaned against the porch railing resting his hands behind himself as faced Chris. Neither said a word as JD slipped from the clinic leading the dog. Beau did not acknowledge either man but followed dutifully on the heels of Dunne.
Buck listened to the clop of JD´s boot heels and the soft click of nails. The two descended the stairs and started down the board walk. Wilmington watched with slumped shoulders. There really was no choice...they had no other option....
“He´s got to be destroyed, you know,” Buck´s soft statement hung heavy in the air. His conviction only as strong as those who would or wouldn´t back him.
“Yup,” Larabee kept his gaze on the man in front of him. He had known Wilmington a life time. A steadfast loyal friend. Dedicated to those around him.
Buck continued on, rationalizing his thoughts out loud, “He pulled down a Gawd damn horse, Geezus Chris how the hell did he manage that?” Wilmington didn´t think of the horse..instead he saw Billy Travis, in his boyish clumsiness, falling backward before the dog with a yelp. He could see the dog lunging instinctively for the boy´s throat. What chance does a fifty pound child stand against a dog bred to fight? What chance does the soft skin of a child´s throat have of resisting the dog´s teeth?
Buck could only see blood. What if it ever turned on Ezra? They conned Standish into this...into taking the dog on...and now what? They kill his dog while he sleeps? Ezra might have been right...maybe he should only trust in his cards and wit.
Wilmington sent a pleading look to his oldest friend. Maybe Chris would see a way out of this. Larabee had a manner in which he took things by the horns. He met problems head on and wrestled through them.
Larabee held his tongue. You should have known it would lead to this...
Buck saw no comfort or support from his friend. Nothing to indicate that Larabee supported him or rebuked him. Nothing.
“Damn it Chris...what if he turns on one of us for picking on Ezra?” Turns on you or Nathan or Josiah when he´s drunk...or if a practical joke gets misread...? Buck pushed himself from the railing and started pacing nervously. His hands fluttered back and forth, “What if he goes after one of the woman folk,” Buck paused and nailed the gunslinger with a worried glance, “or God forbid one of the kids...Billy or the Potter children...”
If he were hoping to get a reaction from Chris with the mention of Billy, he had failed. Instead, Chris sat back with his hands stretched out over the bench back that sat against the clinic wall.
“Damn it Chris....” Buck implored with a silent plea for help. Don´t you see it Chris? Beau ain´t no different than you....You´re smarter maybe...but you stop thinking when your a fighting mad drunk...you use a gun instead of teeth....You both got the same single minded devotion toward protecting what´s yours....Tell me to spare him his life...
“You boy´s got yourself into this mess....I suggest you figure a way out of it,” Larabee turned his gaze over mainstreet. JD and the dog headed toward the Clarion.
Billy ran out to meet them rushing the dog.
Buck followed Chris´s gaze. The Ladies´ man hissed and unconsciously dropped his hand to his revolver. Larabee climbed to his feet. Both silently berated JD for not stepping in between child and dog.
Travis hit the dirt on his knees and slid into Beau wrapping his arms tightly around the dog´s massive neck. Beau stood quietly and withstood the close proximity of the child. His tail dropped.
“JD!!!” Buck´s deep voice rang with a warning.
Dunne swung around and gazed up at his friend. The young sheriff could hear the anger and fear in the voice. What was wrong with Buck? Hell, what was wrong with the others...even Josiah?
Instead of thanking Bo, they were looking at the dog as if he were the one who had shot Vin and Ezra.
“Gawd damn kid,” Wilmington´s mutter fell harshly toward Larabee. Didn´t the Kid have any sense? Too much trust...JD just had too much trust.
Disgusted, Buck pushed from the railing and headed down the stairs. Someone had to take care of the dog. Better do it while Ezra was still out of it and while everyone else understood why it had to be done. Do it while he had his resolve.
Wilmington didn´t bother gazing over his shoulder at Chris. Larabee wouldn´t follow. He had no interest or stake in the dog. This was Buck´s and the other´s headache.
Larabee stood with hands braced on the porch railing. He followed Wilmington with his eyes. He watched as Buck strode to JD. Billy climbed to his feet. Words were exchanged. A tense conversation from the looks of JD and Buck. JD threw and accusing gaze over his shoulder at the dark gunslinger. Chris ignored it. Billy waved when he laid eyes on the dark gunslinger. Larabee ducked his head. More words were exchanged and Buck took the tether from JD. Billy listened intently as Buck spoke to him. The boy´s smile never dipped. Wilmington ruffled the boy´s hair. He then turned and headed toward the end of town with Beau on his heels.
Young Travis missed the silent angry, communication between the two men and suddenly was pulling on JD´s hand. Buck would never come right out and say what he planned ...not in front of the Billy.
Dunne would be ingenious enough to know what Wilmington intended to do.
With great reluctance and a backward glance at Buck, JD allowed Billy to pull him toward the Clarion.
Buck grasped the end of the leash and trudged down mainstreet. Beau stutter stepped a few paces wrestling with the simple rope leash. The dog did not like the change in atmosphere. Wilmington did not wrestle or pull too abruptly on the line. He spoke a few calming words to the dog and nudged it forward.
Beau trusted this man simply because his man did.
Buck stopped by the sheriff´s office and disappeared inside for just a brief moment. He returned with a rifle clutched low in his hand.
Together Buck and Beau walked down the boardwalk and out of town.
Chris kept his eyes on the diminishing figures. How else did they think this would turn out? Didn´t they realize back in the clearing so long ago that the dog was doomed. Doomed the minute it survived its first fight? The most humane thing anyone could have done was destroy the dog before freedom whiffed under its nose....The dog should have been disposed of before Standish learned what devotion really meant.
Damn Buck....your road is never easy.
Chris felt eyes upon him. It was then the gunslinger noticed the hammering on the roof of the church had stopped. Larabee eyes drifted across the street and noticed Josiah staring at him. Their eyes met for almost a full minute.
Larabee felt his anger rise.
Chris pushed off the railing and headed for the saloon.
Josiah threw his hammer and struck out at a stack of wood shingles. The first few broke. My God what have we done?
JD stood in the window of the Clarion. He tried to ignore Billy´s incessant questions. The sheriff´s anger afforded him no patience for the little boy at his hip.
With sudden righteous resolve, Dunne skittered past Billy and rushed out the Clarion door. This was not right, not fair. Bo didn´t do anything wrong.
JD hit the boardwalk running.....and ran right into Josiah.
The large preacher knew this was coming. Had seen it the minute Buck headed out of town with dog and rifle. Though he didn´t feel it right, he could not find a way to disagree with it. There would be wounded souls that would need mending before this day was through. The most sensitive and the most wounded carried out this blackest deed of betrayal.
With a sense of foresight and with the hopes of keeping Buck´s job easier, Josiah made his way down to the Clarion just in time to intercept an enraged JD Dunne.
The boy had a greater sense of right and wrong than any of them. He perceived the world in black and white. Law and lawless...loyal and unloyal...faithful and unfaithful. He did not see the circumstances, he was not jaded enough to see the possibilities of dire miscalculations. Benefit of the doubt did not survive in later life. Actions spoke truer than intent. Ability and potential ability had to be watched with a wary eye.
With strong arms, heavy determination to protect Buck, and questionable sense of right and wrong, Josiah Sanchez intercepted the boy sheriff.
JD hollered and yelled. He threw punches and swore. Unfallen tears of anger sprang forth as a descriptive litany of Josiah´s heritage flew forth from lips that had never spoke such harsh words. Grief and pain were something JD was quite familiar with...they all were.
Josiah held on....Buck didn´t deserve this. Wilmington would beat himself up more than any of JD´s angry retorts and words. Worse yet sometime before these next few days were up Buck would have to face Ezra. The enormity of Buck´s actions, his sense of duty and protection slammed into Josiah heavily.
No man should be left to defend others so absolutely....so absolutely alone.
Buck shouldn´t have had to do it alone....someone should´ve have helped him. Damn it he liked the dog too...hell he loved Ezra as a brother.... Dear God someone help Buck.
With his arms wrapped around JD´s waist, ignoring the young man´s persistent struggles and caustic accusations, Josiah Sanchez half carried, half dragged his youngest most impressionable friend to the saloon. In time, maybe JD would learn just what a sacrifice Buck was committing. Josiah hoped some day JD would forgive Buck and see the undying dedication the man had for his friends and town.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vin Tanner lay in the bed. He listened to the sounds of JD´s anguished voice as it floated in around the closed door. The bounty hunter cast his gaze on Nathan. The healer averted his eyes and only shook his head.
Neither man saw any other way....both turned and lay their gaze on the man sleeping oblivious to the destruction of the one thing that loved him unconditionally.
Vin clenched his jaw. His fault really. If the damn bounty hunters had just come a different day....just attacked when Ezra and Beau were not around. His fault. Tanner draped an arm over his eyes. With a mournful breath he sighed.
Nathan rolled bandages and placed them in the clean wash basin. His heart hammered in his chest. Dear God let Larabee have gone with Buck...don´t let him do this alone. The healer finally dragged a chair over to Standish´s cot and sat beside him. He placed his chair in the spot which Bo had laid loyally lay for the past day and a half.
Loyalty and protection...a bullet for his reward. They had no choice really...God help Buck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wilmington released the leash a quarter mile from town. Trees dotted the area as the long grasses of summer whisked against legs and tree trunks. The stage coach route lay a hundred yard to the west.
Buck took a steadying breath and walked a few paces from the dog. He turned to find Beau at his heel.
The Ladies´man choked out a chuckle. “Stay boy.” With a simple pat on the dog´s grizzled head, the gunslinger walked off a few more paces. He turned and faced the black dog.
Beau lay down in the grass. He rested his monstrous head and jowls on his crossed front feet. The dog lay still and followed Wilmington´s actions with large, sorrowful, brown eyes.
Buck started to raise the rifle. For the first time in a life time the rifle seemed too heavy in his hands. The match didn´t fit, the union seemed false. For so long, he had carried a rifle it had always seemed apart of him...until now. Now, it felt like a grotesque scar to be hidden from sight.
With a pounding heart, the large man raised the rifle slowly to his shoulder.
He stared at the dog. He didn´t see Beau, however, instead he saw the times Ezra climbed down the saloon steps with a stiff neck because the ‘bedeviled dog´ stole the gambler´s pillow while he had slept. Buck recalled all the times on the trail when Beau would make himself at home in Standish´s bed roll before Ezra even finished laying it out....Buck remembered the instance when Chris and Nathan discussed the ills of cheating at cards with Ezra, only to have the gambler point out that it was the dog who cheated not him.... How many times had they seen Ezra fight with Chaucer in front of the livery with Beau dodging in and out stirring matters into a frenzy.
How many times had the damn dog given them company when no one else seemed to pick up on their internal strife´s?
Reward Beau with violence....how could it be the right thing to do when it felt so wrong...such a vile betrayal?
Buck squeezed his eyes closed and raised the rifle to his shoulder. It was just a dog...a dangerous potentially murderous dog.
With the sun high in the fall sky, with a soft breeze whispering through the tall golden grass, Buck Wilmington raised the rifle to his shoulder.
He had a duty to the town.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 12b
Vin dreaded every movement. He watched praying Ezra would quit moving around and just settle back down. The tracker gazed across the dusk lit room. Long shadows of early evening darkened the room to dull shades of grey.
His prayers went unanswered. No surprise for one Vin Tanner.
His only hope would be that Ezra would still flounder in that hazy land of semi consciousness. It seemed the gambler could not hold onto a thought. His memory only lasted as long as the sentence he listened too. Vin couldn´t count how many times Nathan had retold the story of how Ezra got his head wound.
Standish for his part had listened wide eyed and normally drifted off before the story was completed. He had not realized the dog was missing. He had not uttered much in the way about the dog but then again his speech had been so befuddled and confused and drenched in a thick drawl he could have been asking about the dog but no one knew it. With each consecutive waking moment the conman had become more and more lucid.
Just as well, until now.
Buck would have been back by now. He would have done the deed. It had been hours since he had lead Bo out of town. Vin had struggled to get out of bed but vertigo slammed him backwards into his pillow. He had even passed out for a short while. He woke to a pounding headache and a quiet room. Nathan had slipped off some where.
The bounty hunter now watched with apprehension as Ezra´s eyes blinked open. Tanner held his breath as he watched the gambler´s green eyes circle the room and then land on him.
Vin cursed. Ezra knew where he was. His mind was back on track.
Tanner returned the gaze and simply muttered, “I´m so sorry Ezra....I...” Vin fumbled for words that would explain why Buck weren´t to blame...why it was his, Vin´s fault, that Beau was gone.
Instead, Ezra, as was his custom, started speaking, “There is nothing to be apologizing for...you did not pull the trigger...you did not ask those men to hunt you down...and if you were not there, perhaps they would have destroyed Beau and myself as well.”
Ezra noticed the flinch at the mention of the dog´s name. It was then the gambler noticed the dog was missing.
“Beau...he did survive our little encounter did he not?” Ezra could not be sure but he thought he had seen the dog by his side a few times. His memory was confused and hazy at best but the image of the dog seemed clear.
The bounty hunter paused. Good Gawd does he lie? Does he lie and save Buck the confrontation that was sure to happen? It would happen eventually. The perpetuation of a lie when so many knew the truth would not last very long. In the end, the pain they had tried to save those involved, would only increase and burn even more.
Ezra deserved better than a lie. Tanner wouldn´t fall into the false security of such foolishness. He would explain the truth. Truth with sensitivity...because without sensitivity honesty could be brutal.
“Beau? well ya see Ezra...Beau made it through just find...fact is he saved you and my lives...” Vin´s voice faltered. This was not making it any easier.
Ezra smiled and rubbed at his head, “There has got to be a way to make a profit from his noble deeds,” The pride he felt for the dog manifested itself in schemes for success. Maude had taught him that way as well. Win a card game and thus include him in a more profitable scam later on. Do well and be allowed to accompany her. Beau presented an endless supply of cons. The dog was easy to teach and so willing to please.
“Well ya see, he dragged down a horse....nearly tore the leg off the poor beast....got the rider killed,” Vin´s hesitant nearly frightened tone sent warning bells ringing in Ezra´s already ringing ears.
“What are you saying Mr. Tanner?” Accusation laced his words.
“He´s strong Ezra...and ain´t no telling how he´s gonna react in a given situation,” Vin rubbed at his leg. He spoke again interrupting the conman, “Mean ya can never be too sure when it comes to Billy or the Potter kids...or anyone for that matter....”
Ezra stopped listening. The words hardly made any sense. It was the body language, the fear and pain in Mr. Tanner´s eyes and voice. My God what have they done?
“What are you alluring too, Mr. Tanner?” True anger flooded the voice.
“It weren´t Buck´s fault,” Vin continued, just git it over with, git the truth out and deal with the pieces later.
Standish stared at the man across the room from him. His mind whirled. Anger and betrayal sprang forth nearly cutting his breath short.
Ezra tried to sit up. Dizziness hit him like a brick wall. He fell back with a gasp. Pain erupted through his skull. It hardly registered with the sharp ache that scoured his heart.
“You Bastards....” Standish rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself to his knees. His ears rang as blood rushed through his system. With blind determination, he found a pair of discarded pants and fumbled into them.
He did not hear Vin´s pleas...He did not acknowledge Tanner as he pushed his way past the unsteady tracker and stumbled for the door. He never looked over his shoulder as the bounty hunter fell over the bed to crash to the floor on the other side.
Vin scrambled to his feet. He heard the clinic door slam close. Lightheaded and nauseous Tanner crawled to his feet and made to follow the gambler.
Someone protect Buck.
Vin heard rather than saw the gambler trip and stumbled down the clinic steps. Vin reached the steps but found Standish had already gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JD sat with Nathan, Buck and Josiah. Wilmington slugged back another shot of whiskey. His eyes watered with effects of the alcohol. Sanchez followed closely on his heels. JD nursed a beer and shared a look with Nathan. This isn´t going well.
At another table, ensnared in his own dark corner, sat Larabee. He glared at the world warning everyone to stay away. The lives of his men were their own but when they hurt and fell, he felt himself go down with them. Exactly why he had left Buck so long ago after the loss of Sarah and Adam. Chris did not want to hurt any more...he did not want to share anyone´s pain. His own private hell was enough for him.
JD knew solitude was no more the answer to problems in general than reaching for a bottle of rotgut. With some persuasion and cajoling, JD convinced the three older men to go to Larabee´s table.
Chris bristled at the company but did not push them away. Dunne had the persistence and diligence of a partially grown puppy. The more you shoved him off the quicker he came back.
With hard won patience, Larabee withstood the company.
No words were exchanged.
Buck staggered to his feet and threaded his way to the bar. Though a smile adorned his face it held no carefree levity. The forced smile benefited only those that did not know the ladies man. Even the working the girls tried to offer condolences but he politely shrugged them off.
None of the four gazed up when the bat wing doors were shoved aside.
Wilmington had made it to the bar falling into it. Inez with a sad smile simply handed him another bottle. She understood what tore at his heart and wanted only to embrace him in a hug and protect him from himself.
JD and Nathan held their breaths as Buck weaved and stuttered his way through the smoke and haze between chairs and people and back toward their table.
Movement by the outside doors drew their attention.
“Oh no,” JD´s young voice seemed to pull the four men to their feet as one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ezra stormed through the saloon doors in an unsteady gait. The world listed left and right. Through fuzzy shifting vision, he laid eyes on the target of his anger.
With determination that matched his sense of unbalance, the gambler tripped and wove his way through the crowd. Patrons backed out of his way...strangers were pulled from the impending trouble, by regulars. This was not an argument anyone wanted any part in....
“You sonofa bitch,” The words tumbled and fell over each other, the thick johnny reb accent dropped any sense of pronunciation but the maliciousness was clear.
Standish drew back a bare arm.
Buck turned his head at the sound of gibberish...just in time to catch a right cross to the jaw.
Both men fell. Buck stumbled backward into a table. His whiskey soaked sense of balance offered no help.
Ezra toppled forward following the path of his right cross. He stumbled into the falling Wilmington.
The table behind both men up ended sending them crashing to the floor amongst cards, coins, beer and whiskey.
JD started to rush to them, wanted to separate them before anything was said or done that could not be taken back...
Josiah forced him still. The preacher swayed precariously back and forth on his feet. JD inadvertently played the role of a crutch.
“You faithless Sonofa bitch...” Standish tried to recapture his balance enough to throw a second punch. Whiskey and cards stuck to his arms and chest. The bandage around his head slid over one eye.
Vin limped and dragged himself to the batwing doors just in time to witness the two men go down.
He slid through the doors and made his way toward Chris and the others. Patrons created distance from the tracker. Sometimes the Seven lawmen could be as volatile and disruptive as the trail hands that passed through town.
The citizens of the saloon kept a wary eyes on Wilmington and Standish whiling trying to discern the actions of the other five. The seven acted as a pack more times than not.
Buck didn´t bother trying to defend himself, didn´t bother trying to explain himself. He simply waited for the next blow...waited for the anger that should be directed toward him.
Ezra didn´t see anything but the object of his disgust, the source of the betrayal that seared his soul.
He cocked his arm back, tightened his fist and thought only of destroying the person sliding in and out of focus before him.
He never had a chance to land the blow.
A large black object suddenly slid under his arm. A thick coat pushed against his chest nearly knocking Standish sideways. Something licked his face.
Shocked and with undue disgust, Standish shoved the black invader away. The intruder had no intentions of leaving.
The room fell silent.
In the heavy expectation that engulfed the barroom, Standish suddenly realized Beau leaned on him. Stood between himself and Mr. Wilmington.
The dog...the dog.....It licked the spilled whiskey from Standish´s shoulder.
Ezra dropped his fisted hand on Beau´s head. Confused green eyes stared over the dog´s back and landed on the watered, alcohol induced nystagmus stare of Wilmington.
“I couldn´t do it Ezra....jist couldnt bring myself to do it....” The softly whispered words held more pain than the eyes. The normally jovial face twisted into a the sad countenance of a friend seeking forgiveness for a transgression he thought nearly mortal.
Ezra leaned into the dog. Rested his arms around Beau and lay his face on the dog´s neck. His explanation later would be that he was simply too dizzy to support himself. The dimpled smile, full of shame and relief , said otherwise.
“Thank you....” Standish took a steadying breath and leaned heavily against the dog. Beau bared it quietly and continued to lap up whiskey and beer.
Ezra stretched a hand out to Wilmington who grasped it. Nothing lost.
Standish didn´t bother gazing upward at the hand that rested on his shoulder. He was just too damn sick.
“Keep´im on a leash Ezra,” Larabee´s words marked a compromise. Standish nodded not even trying to finagle an excuse to ignore the directive.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Three weeks passed with relative quiet. The weather turned cooler and the days shorter.
Vin had recovered enough that he could almost make it through a whole day without falling a sleep. His limp though pronounced did not keep him from the saddle.
Standish too had recovered enough to convene at his normal spot a the gaming tables. The dizzy spells and severe headaches had diminished. He no longer slept like the dead, unresponsive and unmoving. In those times Beau had hovered close by his master.
Beau, himself, seemed to have thrived those recovering weeks. He spent his time divided between the gambler and the others. Most noticeably Buck and JD. The Sheriff solicited the dog´s attention but Buck never did.
Three weeks and no more had been said about the incident with the bounty hunters and potential bank robbers. Perhaps they fled when they saw the death in the woods surrounding the field. Who knew?
On this dark fall morning a cold wind blew off the prairie. Heavy laden clouds promised a storm. The question remained would it be rain or snow.
Ezra sat at a saloon table flipping cards. A low-grade headache kept him in doors. Beau beside his chair.
“ ‘Ey Ezra,” Vin pulled out the chair opposite of the gambler. He sat heavily. The moisture in the air played havoc with his wound. It ached terribly. As was his habit, the tracker tossed the dog a bit of jerky. Tanner´s aim was good enough that the dog did not have to move to catch it and Beau´s reflexes and eye coordination was enough that he did not have to raise his head.
“Mr. Tanner,” Standish rubbed at the base of his neck. His ears seemed to be ringing as well. Mr. Jackson had said the headaches would diminish in time. How much time did he want?
Buck joined them carrying three beers and his ever present grin, “Howdy Boys.”
“Mr. Wilmington.”
“Buck.”
“Ey Ezra....Don´t Chris want you to keep your dog on a leash?” Buck couldn´t help himself. Larabee entered the saloon from the back room. Ezra flipped his cards either unconcerned or unaware.
“So it would seem,” Ezra had ceased reminding everyone that it was not his dog. It was about as successful as reminding Josiah he was not the preacher´s son.
“Don´t you think you should?” Tanner kept his eyes on his mug of beer but knew Chris closed in behind Ezra.
“I don´t see why it is necessary at this stage in time,” Gawd his head hurt. Felt like someone stuffed his ears with wool. Perhaps a small mid day siesta would help.
“Well he is prone to violence....”
“As is Mr. Larabee.....and I don´t see you gentlemen keeping him on a short tether...though at times I think it would be prudent.” Standish rubbed at the side of his head.
Buck and Vin shared amused glances, “Ya know pard´ its not like Chris is goin´ to gnaw someone´s leg off or something,” Wilmington hid his smile behind his raised beer mug.
“That remains to be seen,” Standish returned tiredly...perhaps he would excuse himself and go lay down.
Chris raised an eye brow at the conversation.
Ezra pushed his chair back from the table and stood, “If you excuse me gentlemen,” he turned and stepped right into Larabee.
Buck and Vin smiled and chuckled.
“Ezra, I thought you agreed to keep the dog on a leash,” Chris didn´t bother hiding his own smile.
“Yes, well he hate the last few,” Ezra side stepped the gunslinger and started for the stairs, “and about the last comm...”
“Forget it Ezra,” Larabee took the gambler´s seat, “no sense chewing on people if ya can shoot´em,” the dark gunslinger hit Buck and Vin with a poignant stare.
The two men stopped laughing.
Standish tipped his hat and with the help of the railing headed up the stairs. Beau followed quietly beside him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside of town resting within the safety of group of trees, bank robbers planned and schemed. With in the week they would hit Four Corners and rob their bank of everything, take the five hundred dollar bounty and perhaps leave a few corpses in the street.
In a week, all would be in place. The new leader of the group smiled with anticipation.
‘Like licking butter off a knife.....´
*******************
part 13 The Awful Beauty of Self-Sacrifice Whittier, Amy Wentworth, l .16
“Ezra!” Standish snapped off one more shot before redirecting his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Highway man he had shot at duck safely behind a water trough. An ungentlemanly curse whispered between dusty lips .
The gambler, however, turned his eyes on Mr. Wilmington. The Lady´s man was waving vigorously to get his attention. Ezra squinted furrowing his brow, trying to make sense of the frantic motions of his fellow law man who lay somewhat pinned down under an over turned wagon.
The man seemed to be caught in a bout of ‘The Fits.´
“Ezra! JD.....look at JD!” The word were drowned by the constant barrage of gunfire. The sharp crack of Vin´s rifle rang from the top of the mercantile. Another wanna be bank robber ducked and rolled under a board walk finding a slight reprieve. Chris´s guns rang with an ominous doom as yet another man twitched and jerked in the street before crumbling in the macabre dance of a flinching corpse.
Josiah squatted hunched behind the water trough just in front of the saloon. He shared this small cover of protection with the gambler.
Ezra watched Buck´s frantic pointing for a fraction of second longer. The gambler suddenly understood the dilemma.
JD.
The gambler snuck a look over the top of the trough. JD knelt pinned behind a water barrel and support post, his back to a stack of crates only a few yards away. It was the silhouette of movement that caught the gambler´s attention.
A killer had the drop on JD.
Ezra, in a flash of panic, stood up and hollered JD´s name. His voice deepened with his desperation. His chest expanded and constricted rapidly as he spoke the two letters with a hint of horror.
JD never heard a thing. Dunne brushed long wavy bangs out of his way as he squeezed off a few more shots in the opposite direction.
A shot rang out and Ezra´s hat sailed off his head as if caught in a maelstrom.
The gambler instinctively dropped behind the trough. He raised his hand to shoot and again screamed JD´s name.
The young man still concentrated on the few armed gun men seeking shelter by the Mercantile.
Another shot, dangerously close to the gambler´s face, had him diving flat on his stomach behind the trough. His booted feet knocked Josiah in the thigh.
The large preacher redirected the offending soles out of his way. “You hit brother?”
Ezra didn´t answer. His heart beat at a furious clip. For the first time in a long while, true panic and fear bubbled and boiled. Oh Gawd JD...Oh Gawd JD.
Then he saw it. Ezra´s eyes, out of habit or maybe because of their bond or just by luck, fell on Beau. The black dog lay as if unconcerned about the foolishness of men. The dog kept out of sight and behind JD, resting calmly in the shadow of a door stoop.
Without giving any thought to his actions. With only seeing a solution. Ezra stood up and hollered, “Beau!...Here Beau!”
Buck hesitated in his firing. ‘What the hell is he doing?! Git JD ya dang fool!´
Josiah turned and watched the gambler as if he had lost his mind...Calling the dog now?
The dog, with its keener hearing...with its unselfish loyalty and blind faith, stood.
“Beau!!! Come Beau!!” The command turned sharp, demanding.
The words had only just left his lips. The sound had not even traveled to the dog. But the dog understood the body language. The dog perhaps felt the fear or the apprehension in his protector.
Without cause or caution, the large black dog jumped to his feet and leaped toward his owner .
Leaped, just as his owner had predicted he would....just as his owner had known he would.... as his owner had hoped he would.....
The dog leaped. 86 pounds of flesh, blood and bone dove into the air with the simple purpose of going to the aid of his owner. With faith unmatched by most things in a world full of treachery, the dog acted.
It soared into the air oblivious and uncaring of the bullets that flew around it. It left the ground unconcerned for the danger that existed in the chaotic gun battle.
With trust and unquestioning allegiance, Beau acted exactly as his owner had predicted.
The gunman behind JD had his shot. He squeezed the trigger just as a black shadow passed between his gun and the boy sheriff.
JD never heard the shot....or maybe he did but figured it was directed at someone else. He never knew someone snuck up behind him with the intention of shooting him in the back. He never knew his life had come up for forfeit....he didn´t know until a large body crashed into him and knocked him forward slightly.
Buck stared, his mouth gaped open. My God.
Josiah blinked but was unable to turn away from the sight.
Ezra let his gun hand fall to his side.
Chris stared at his three men as if they had lost their minds. He fired ruthlessly trying to protect them. His view of JD had been blocked by a covered wagon.
Vin stared down the long barrel of his rifle and squeezed the trigger. He took a head shot. The target trying to back shoot JD exploded like a melon.
JD stared at the body of the dog laying partly on his legs. He never felt the misshapen bullet that embedded itself in the meat of his upper chest.
“Ezra git down!” Josiah snapped back when a bullet dug a gouge out of the water trough. Splinters flew into the air.
Buck quickly fell back undercover firing all the while.
Standish stood his ground staring at the black body partially covering JD´s lower legs.
“Ezra git down!” Josiah scrambled over and tried to pull the conman down. He yanked on the sleeve. Standish´s shoulder dipped but nothing else. Instead, green eyes remained rooted at the spot where JD sat cradling the head and chest of Beau.
“Damn it Ezra git down!” Josiah tackled the younger man dragging him back behind the cover of the trough.
With one hand on the gambler´s shirt and vest effectively pinning the gambler down, the preacher returned to firing on the bank robbers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JD looked up when he noticed the gun fire had died down. He held Beau partly on his lap. With shaky hands, he patted the dog´s black coat in long soothing strokes. “Easy Bo ya gonna be alright,” Dunne knew he lied. Somewhere in his mind he recognized the lie...understood he spoke false hope to something that didn´t understand words, only tone. JD tried to keep his voice reassuring.
Dunne stroked the black coat. He kept his hands away from the small hole that had penetrated the ribs. He ignored the small spot of matted black hair or the slight swelling that surrounded it. JD ignored the ragged opened mouth gasps of breath....He refused to see the bluish tongue rolling out between well used white teeth and greying gums. He didn´t acknowledge the tacky strings of saliva that strung from the rapidly failing body.
JD ignored all of it. Instead he patted the dog. He spoke softly to it with slowly slipping composure. He clung desperately to the dog trying to convince himself the dog would not die.
He knew it would....the small voice of conscience within him spoke the truth. The voice soft at first spoke louder as his mind warred with what was best for him. The truth.
Between the increasingly labored breath, the frantic panicked beat of a failing heart, Beau´s life raced on....It hammered with the desperation of a dying fighter.
JD never looked up...he never faced the men that slowly surrounded him. He never even acknowledged his own labored breathing or frantically beating heart....he never recognized his own dizziness.
Nothing registered accept the dulling strange unexplainable changes of the dog in his arms.
“Don´t Bo....don´t do this...” Tears finally rolled over lower lids. Tears hung suspended over lashes. They clung desperately as if clinging to hope. With a ragged breath that shook JD´s trembling body, the tears fell. They cut quickly and quietly through dirt and grime. They traveled over cheeks and down the chin to fall aimlessly to the black furred dog.
“Let´im go JD,” Josiah´s voice.
JD finally looked up. The bodies stood in a half circle around him. He searched the faces. The men directed their eyes not to him but to the dog.
The harsh agonal breathing tore through the small area.
Dunne´s eyes swept from Josiah´s soft features up to Chris.....Vin suddenly appeared. The Texan whispered a soft oath and dropped his gaze. His rifle slipped in his grip. Nathan muscled past Chris and Vin and came up short.
“Oh God,” The healer stood for a moment unmoving.
The dog´s desperate wheezing breath gurgled. The lower jaw worked to swallow air....searching vainly for any kind of relief. Glazed brown eyes ceased to see anything.
JD looked up to Buck again.
Wilmington´s eyes broke from the dog and found Standish.
Ezra hung back from all of them. He took half a step forward but stopped. He turned his back on them. Turned his back to walk away...to leave it behind...to escape what had happened.
But a set of eyes had seen him.
Front claws weakly scrapped the dirt. Pebbles scratched and clinked against one another heralding the effort the dog made to fulfill the command. Grains of dirt were pushed away as small furrows were carved desperately in the dry mire of main street.
The tongue curled once and a small whimper rolled forth.
Ezra stopped. He squared his shoulder´s as if someone had plunged a knife high in his back.
With slow methodical steps, he made his way back to JD...made his way back to the dog.
Vin and Buck stepped aside. They dare not touch him. They sought to comfort no one not even themselves.
The gambler knelt down in the dirt...careless of the dried manure that had worked itself into the soil. Unconcerned of the damage he did to his laundry or his image. A surprisingly steady hand reached out with manicured finely kept fingers and caressed the side of the dog´s head.
Perhaps Beau felt the touch....perhaps he recognized his owner had finally reached him...perhaps he even realized the gambler knelt beside him. Whatever the reason, whatever the driving force behind the actions, whether it be physiologic, neurologic or perhaps it was the strength of their bond...their friendship and loyalty....
The dog leaned into the hand. It lifted one massive paw and rested it on the plumb colored coat and gave one last agonal breath.
Then the fight drained from it. The ribs collapsed for the last time pushing out the residual air left in blood filled lungs. Muscles no longer strained and the eyes no longer had their light.
In a fraction of moment the fine line between life and death had been crossed.
Ezra kept his hand on the dog´s head for just a moment, no longer....and started to stand up.
“Gawd Ezra I´m so sorry,” JD´s words streamed out with the same quiet intensity as his tears.
Ezra shook his head, “Nothing to be sorry for Mr. Dunne,” the whispered words fought for composure. The gambler regained his feet and threaded his way through his fellow lawmen toward the livery.