"This’ll do for the night," Buck Wilmington smiled at Tanner. "We’ll make Ridge City by tomorrow afternoon."
"Indeed," quipped Standish, as he stretched painfully. After a moment to collect himself, he set about gathering the canteens.
"At least I will have the comforts of a feather bed for a day or two before our return journey."
It was customary for Ezra to complain about normal things. And when it came to the constant grumbling, it was also just as customary for the other peacekeepers not to pay much attention. Right now however, the gambler’s injuries were still healing, and Nathan was concerned for his patient.
"You all right Ezra?"
Ezra waved Jackson off and tried not to reminisce about that last attempt on the bank. The fortunate part was he still didn’t remember the horse crushing his body. The unfortunate part was, he had become accustomed to the aches and pains of the past four months. Two days on a horse wasn’t helping matters any, but he just couldn’t bear the indignity of a stage ride.
"Quite ... Mr. Jackson. I just need a few minutes for my joints to reacquaint themselves with the walking position."
Nathan looked at Standish intently and was slightly reassured by a faint smile. The gambler was attempting to stay focused on the task at hand, and at this point he would endue anything just to get rid of their prisoner. He looked up at Jimmy Dayton with disgust and headed for the little stream to replenish their water supply.
"Let’s get you down," Jackson indicated to the prisoner as he untied the man’s restraints from the saddle horn and lowered him to the ground. Nathan escorted the man to the big ponderosa and tied the shackles to ropes before securing the man to the tree.
"I’ll be back ta check on your arm in a minute," said the healer.
The man gruffly pulled away from Jackson and attempted to make himself comfortable. He was none too happy with anything that was happening to him, and now he had to endure the attentions of the dark healer again.
Well, … ‘pose its betta than dyin’! his fevered mind had told himself as Nathan had removed the bullet from his arm almost three weeks ago. The infection had already set in by that time, but the healer had managed to stop it in time to save the man’s life. Not that it mattered much anyway. These men were taking him to the train station in Ridge City. He knew they’d be handing him over to some rangers out of Fort Worth, and he knew the laws in Texas would see him hang for his crimes.
"I’ll see if I can rustle us up some supper," the tracker announced as he picked up his rifle and some snares.
"We’ll get the fire goin’," the lady’s man called after him. Vin just waved over his shoulder as he made his way up the embankment.
Nathan and Buck went about setting up camp. The healer freed the horses from their saddles and gear, while Wilmington cleared an area for the fire and collected some kindling to get it going. Ezra returned a short while later and set the canteens near the fire ring. He appeared a little more comfortable than he had twenty minutes ago. He looked at Wilmington and smirked.
"Really Mr. Wilmington, you shouldn’t attempt to deceive your associates. We are all well aware that you are not as capable an outdoorsman as our Mr. T… Tadell. Perhaps I could lend you some valuable assistance."
Mr. Tadell? Oh, … yeah, … Right! Buck remembered the little deception they had been using to hide Vin’s name from their prisoner. The last thing they needed was for the Texas Rangers to get word of Tanner’s true identity and try to bag themselves two prisoners instead of just one. The judge was still working to clear the Tanner name, but so far he’d only succeeded in stopping the production of new posters.
Of course, the smart thing to do would have been to leave the tracker back in Four Corners, but Vin had insisted that he be allowed to go along. He was still having a hard time readjusting to town, after spending most of June and all of July in the mountains. The manhunt for Dayton and his victim had cleared a few cobwebs, but it wasn’t enough.
"Can’t let ma name stop me from doin’ ma job" he had told Chris. Naturally it had been Standish who had suggested that they simply ‘change’ the offending name for a short while. Vin didn’t like hiding much, but it was the only way Larabee would let him go along.
Buck was a little annoyed with the wise-ass insinuation the gambler was leaning towards. He looked up from the small mound of twig that he had been blowing on in an attempt to draw out any flame that might be present. His only reward thus far, was a small swirl of smoke that rose from the pile.
"Be my guest Ezra…" He got to his feet and waved the path clear for the Standish. "If you figure you can do any betta," he quipped in the man’s face as he headed over towards the horses.
The gambler smiled to himself, as he watched Buck gather up their mounts and head towards the stream. He carefully knelt beside the kindling and began to rearrange the pile of twigs.
Nathan had been busy arranging the saddles and bedrolls around the fire pit. He too had a smirk on his face.
"You shouldn’t tease a man like that Ezra," he mused out loud. "One of these days he ain’t just gonna walk away."
Ezra peered at the healer over the steadily growing smoke coming from the twigs.
"Mr. Jackson, sir … Whilst you have seemingly become immune to the occasional impractical nature of my obligatory merriment," he took a breath and smiled. "I have concluded that it will be some time before our Mr. Wilmington gains such worthwhile skills." The gambler blew on the pile in front of him and then added a little more kindling, as the flames became apparent.
"As there is no real harm in this endeavor, I see only mutual benefit to my continued badgering of the gullible Mr. Wilmington." He added some larger wood to the growing flames and backed up a little.
"Beside," he looked at the healer and waved his hand over the fire.
"When a perfect opportunity arrives," he smiled to himself. "One can not passed it up."
Jackson laughed out loud and shook his head. He wasn’t exactly sure he understood all the words the gambler had used, but he understood the meaning.
"There are times Ezra Standish … there are times." Jackson muttered as he took hold of his doctoring bag and headed back over to the prisoner.
The gambler’s grin died down as he realized where Nathan was headed. He didn’t see any reason to tend the prisoner’s injuries. The miscreant deserved to die for his crimes, why waste valuable medical knowledge and supplies. Ezra just wished he had completed the job he had started when he came across that … that ‘animal’ about to slay his prey.
It turned his stomach to think of that young woman, in the state he had found her. Beaten and raped repeatedly, Dayton was about to ‘put her out of her misery’ when the gambler had spotted them. His first instinct had been to get rid of the knife. His shot had found the bastard’s arm and thankfully dislodged the knife from his grip. Dayton had fled, leaving the woman and his gear.
It took every ounce of strength the gambler possessed to get this victim back to Four Corners. Swaddling her in his own bedroll, Ezra had cuddled her in his arms and rode gently back to town. He’d had the unfortunate occasion to see what a man could do to a woman in a fit of rage. He’d even seen a rape victim before. None of those cases had prepared him for the state this poor girl was in. Never before had he been witness to such inhumane treatment of the gentler sex.
There had been little Nathan could do for the woman when Standish had brought her in. There weren’t a lot of physical wounds for him to heal. She had simply stared at the ceiling until her family arrived to take her home. Ezra had watched the hollow eyes as he helped move her to the covered wagon. His rage had still been building that afternoon when Vin and Josiah had hauled the fevered convict in to town. Chris had had to hold him back as they brought him to the healer to ‘fix up’.
Sometimes nothing about this ‘justice’ made sense. The victim is returned home, less than half the person she was before while the perpetrator of this, the most repulsive of crimes, was nursed back to health so that he could face his accusers.
"Let’s just take the bastard out back and shoot him like the dog he is," Ezra had pleaded with Chris in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. No matter how much Larabee had agreed with him, he just couldn’t let the gambler do it. Larabee’s own version of the ‘poker face’ had served him well that day.
So here they were two weeks later, escorting the ‘man’ to the authorities from Texas. When the truth about this animal had come out Standish was beyond himself all over again. The wire from the judge seemed to indicate that this same ‘man’ had done the same ‘things’ to eleven other women throughout Texas. How many more were there that they didn’t know about? Ezra had wondered.
He turned to watch the healer as he re-wrapped the man’s arm. Standish smiled to himself as he admired the calm nature with which Nathan approached his work. It was beyond the gambler’s understanding as to how the healer could witness the girl’s torment and then treat the sick villain who had caused her such pain. Jackson was indeed a scholar and a gentleman, and Standish was extremely proud to know this man and to call him friend.
Ezra shook his head and smiled again. That’s a far cry from the ‘offish would-be aristocrat’ who gave second thoughts to riding with the ‘dark man’ two years ago. He smiled at Jackson again as his attention moved to the returning lady’s man.
Wilmington fixed a tether between the two smaller pines nearby and tied each of the horses to it. He stroked the head of his own mount before returning to the little encampment. He glanced over at Nathan and the prisoner and then back to Standish, as he made his way to the fire. He considered the gambler, as he looked at the fire he had managed to create.
"Nice little flame you got goin’ there Ezra," he commented as he sat down on is saddle.
Standish smiled his gratitude and tipped his hat.
Buck returned the gambler’s smile then gazed intently at the fire. He watched the flames for a short while, as they slowly consumed the wood. He glanced back at the man across from him and considered the enigma that was Ezra Standish. He was still amazed by this man. Almost mesmerized on quiet evenings like this. Until two weeks ago, Wilmington had thought perhaps he might never really get to know the man beneath the veil. It was now clear that, at least some of the assumptions they had made about this man must certainly be wrong.
He had been waiting at the jail when the gambler had ridden into town carrying the listless body of Dayton’s latest victim. He knew the gambler was in physical pain, but he’d watched in silence as Ezra refused everyone’s help and delivered the girl to Nathan himself. Buck had seen the gambler pace back and forth and deny himself sleep as they waited for word on the woman. Then he’d seen the usually calm and reserved Ezra Standish, exploded in an uncontrolled rage as the prisoner was dragged passed him on his way to be healed. The gambler had gone so far as to take on Chris Larabee to determine to fate of their captive.
Alright, he admitted to himself. So maybe I don’t really understand the man, but at least we have a few things in common. Wilmington understood the disgust and anger Standish had for their prisoner. He shared the same feelings of contempt. And perhaps Ezra’s attitude towards the fairer sex might be comparable to his own. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
The tracker’s return brought the camp back to reality.
"Got a hankerin’ for rabbit stew … anyone else?" he called out happily as he laid the butchered animal on a large rock and put some wild root down beside it.
"I’ll get them potatoes from ma bag," Nathan added as he returned from seeing to the prisoners. He put down his black satchel and started unbuckling his saddlebags.
"Perhaps the evening will not be as unpleasant as I had first thought," commented Standish.
Chris Larabee sat outside the jailhouse sipping on a
cup of coffee as Four Corners began to stir. He watched the townsfolk as
they began their daily business, yet he didn’t really see them. The
cup was warm in his hands as he looked intently at the black liquid, but
he didn’t really see it either.
In his mind, the gunslinger was recalling all the things he had seen this
town endure in the past two years. All the fights and gun battles they had
seen. All the tests and confrontations they had witnessed, and even that
woman’s murder some eleven months ago now. None of those events seemed
to have affected his community, as much as Jimmy Dayton’s crimes had.
He was glad they were finally rid of the pestilence. Happy they could at
least try to move on with their lives.
"Mornin’."
Chris’ eyes moved from his coffee to the figure beside him.
"Mornin Josiah." The gunslinger shuffled on the bench as the big man sat
beside him and sipped on his own coffee for a minute.
"Seems peaceable enough," the preacher commented as he looked around.
"Yep."
"Mighty nice even."
"Yep."
Sanchez glanced at his leader and smiled to himself. Some things never
change he thought. Didn’t matter what it was they were up against,
they could always rely on Larabee to stare it down. No emotion ever escaped
that face unless it was supposed to. Least wise, none that he’d seen.
"You gonna be able to keep JD in bed taday?" Chris asked. Josiah raised his
eyebrows and cocked his head at the thought.
"Well brother, Nathan did say four more days, and I always do ma best to
follow the orders I’m given."
Larabee smiled inside. It was the truth on most days.
"You boys remember the plan?" Buck asked as they sat
on the hill outside of Ridge City.
"Not much ta remember best I can recall," replied Jackson. "We’s gonna
secure Dayton with the sheriff. Ezra and Vin’s gonna see ‘bout
them rangers whilst you and me watch over the man."
"That’s ‘bout it!"
Wilmington smiled at his fellow peacekeepers, as they set their horses in
motion towards the large town.
Casey Wells made her way up the steps to Nathan’s
clinic and knocked on the door softly before entering. She could see JD still
asleep in Nathan’s big bed as she peered around the door. Slowly and
quietly she closed the door, tip-toed over to the chair and sat down. She
smiled as she watched the young man sleep, then bowed her head. Her feelings
for JD Dunne were as confused as the images that occasionally crossed her
mind when she thought about the young man now curled up in front of her.
She wiped the smile from her face as she remembered the torment he had put
her through in the last year. She understood that he had a job to do. She
knew that he fulfilled his commitment as best he could. But all this gunplay
was causing her more grief than she knew how to handle.
First he’d almost died when that … that Mattie Stokes had shot
him point blank in the belly late last year. Then barely six months later,
he’d taken those two rounds in the chest when those bandits had tried
to blow up the bank. Six weeks ago Nathan had diagnosed the pneumonia, and
told him, for about the hundredth time, he was doing too much again. His
chest hadn’t fully healed from the bullet wounds. Of course, JD had
to fight the healer every step of the way. Casey looked at her young man
gruffly. There are times JD Dunne … oh, there are times!
As they entered city limits their shackled prisoner drew
attention from the townsfolk. Ahead of them the sheriff became visible on
the steps of the jailhouse. He stood and watched as the riders approached
and came to stop in front of him.
"Howdy … You must be the boys from Four Corners that Judge Travis wired
me about."
"That’s right sheriff. Name’s Wilmington." He tipped his hat to
the lawman as he dismounted. "You seen any Rangers yet?" he asked as he undid
Dayton’s bindings and dragged the man from his horse.
"Horace Baxter," he tipped his hat then shook his head. "Their wire said
they’d be on the noon train tommorra. You boys planning on sticking
around?"
"Not that we have a choice in the matter my good man," Standish added to
the conversation. "Accompanying the lawmen will be a Notary to take down
my sworn testimony." He looked at the prisoner with disdain written all over
his face.
"You see sir, I am the unfortunate gentleman who discovered this
madman engaged in his dreadful deed."
"You’re another southern boy ain’t ya?" questioned the sheriff.
"Not of late sir."
"Lot of ya around these parts … No matter." He shook his head and look
at the prisoner. "Too bad you didn’t aim your weapon someplace other
than his arm," the sheriff commented as Wilmington walked the prisoner up
the jailhouse steps.
"Indeed sir … That very thought has crossed my mind on more than one
occasion."
"One of us’ll be around ta help in guarding Dayton?" Buck commented
as he handed the man over roughly to the sheriff.
"Got m’ self four deputies for that. Reckon you boys can relax a while."
The sheriff looked at the four peacekeepers in turn. His eyes rested on the
healer and his eyes narrowed.
"Stories didn’t say nothin about you boys havin’ a darkie as one
of ya … "
"Stories?" Tanner questioned, as he suddenly became a little nervous at what
Baxter had to say.
"Saw a paper outta Eagle Bend year before last. Story said seven of ya was
hired by the circuit judge to watch over Four Corners and the outta territory."
"That’s right," Wilmington commented.
"Didn’ think you could be the same men. Report a couple a months ago
said you’d split up."
"Our group encountered some mis-communication for a time Sheriff, but we
are ‘back on the job’ as they say," Standish corrected.
"Well I’d watch out for yer colored friend then. Some folks ‘round
here ain’t too friendly ta ‘em much."
Nathan’s eyes narrowed a little, as did the trackers.
"Much obliged," Tanner tipped his hat at the man and motioned for Nathan
to follow him.
"I’ll catch up to ya in a bit." Wilmington nodded for Standish to accompany
their friends, as he followed the sheriff into the jail.
"Do I gotta see to that bullet wound a’ all?" the
sheriff asked as Buck unshackled the prisoner and put him in the waiting
cell.
"Should’a asked Nathan while he was here," he replied, as the sheriff
closed the door and locked it.
"Oh," he turned and looked at Wilmington. "Shot ‘im and fixed ‘im
up too eh!" he laughed to himself.
Buck looked at the sheriff and grinned.
"Nathan’s the ‘colored’ fella you was talkin’ ‘bout
out there," he motioned to the door.
Sheriff Baxter looked at the lady’s man. The confusion was written all
over his face as he moved back to his desk. He hadn’t expected a colored
doctor or this man’s tone when he referred, obviously defensively, to
a real friend.
"It was just a friendly word of warnin’ Mr. Wilmington. What with the
railroad and all, we got a lotta folks come through this town. A lot of ‘em
don’t take kindly to the darkies."
Buck shifted his position and looked back at the sheriff. He didn’t
care much for this kind of talk.
Sheriff Baxter tried to lighten the mood a little.
"Don’t mind ‘em ma’self. Just suggestin’ you keep an
eye on ‘im if’n he’s yer friend."
Buck’s smile was small as he looked back at Dayton.
"Well if that’s all sheriff," he moved for the door. "I’ll be off
ta find ‘ma friends’." He tipped his hat as he left the
jailhouse.
"Hey there sleepy head," the young woman called as JD
moaned and rolled over.
He looked up at Casey and smiled before a fit of coughing took over his body.
The woman assisted him to a sitting position and rubbed his back. After several
anxious minutes, the coughing subsided. She handed him a cloth to wipe his
face, and moved to the small window to look out.
"Don’t reckon you gotta be here to watch over me like a mother hen."
"Someone’s got to. You don’t listen when yer told betta."
"Don’t need no one lookin’ after me. I do just fine by ma self."
Casey Wells turned to look at her young man. Her look was as scolding as
his mother’s had been and JD felt himself retreat a little.
"If you’d done what Nathan had told ya you wouldn’a ended up back
‘ere in the first place."
The kid didn’t have anything to say. He knew she was right. Casey was
normally always right. He’d recovered relatively well after his second
brush with death. Well enough to be on his feet when Vin came back three
months ago. But Nathan had warned him to take it easy.
"Reckon you feel mighty fine right now JD. But you need ta take it easy.
You need ta give yer body time to heal. It ain’t yer spirit that’s
weak it’s yer body. Slow down boy!" Jackson had scolded him several
times.
And then when he’d started to cough he hadn’t said anything. It
took Buck to drag him to see Nathan before he would admit that he felt poorly.
And then the healer had put him in bed under a big pile of blankets. He felt
silly at first, but was glad for the coverings a few days later. When the
fever had set in he had felt as bad as when he was shot. Worse Maybe!
‘Alright!" Dunne threw he hands in the air and bowed his head. "You
win."
Miss Wells lowered her head then looked at the young man as she moved back
over to the bed..
"Only one around here who wins JD is you." She sat down beside him on the
bed and took the cloth from him.
"Don’t fight the people who … care the most about ya JD." She lowered
her head once again, then looked into his eyes and smiled.
John Dunne smiled back.
"Over here Buck," Jackson called to the lady’s man
as he rode down the street. Wilmington re-directed his horse over to the
hitchin’ post and dismounted in front of the rooming house.
"Well gentlemen," miffed Standish as he came outside to gather his belongings
from his own mount.
"It’s not the Grand Hotel, but I would presume it will have to suffice
for a day or two whilst we conduct our business."
"That’s right pard," Tanner slapped the gambler on the back as he followed
him back inside. The tracker’s opinion was the same as Ezra’s,
although his point of view was, of course, completely opposition.
Jackson shook his head and smiled as he started to follow.
"Nathan." Wilmington called.
The healer looked back at the lady’s man and tilted his head a little.
He could see the concern on his friend’s face. His own expression questioned
‘What’.
"You heard what Sheriff Baxter said about colored folk ‘round ‘ere?"
Nathan nodded his head. He’d heard that sort of talk, and worse, all
his life. Not that he liked it much, but it didn’t faze him any more.
"Best you stick with one of us while we’re ‘ere. Wouldn’t
wanna ‘ave ta head back to town without ya."
The healer smiled and turned to go inside the establishment.
"Yeah, I’ll do that. Was kinda lookin’ forward ta seeing ma place
again."
Wilmington smiled and followed the healer. He quickly glanced over his shoulder
at the surrounding town.
"Me too."
"And where is it you are looking to go Mr. Jackson?"
Standish questioned as he joined his friend back outside the rooming house.
"What?" the healer looked back over his shoulder as the smaller man joined
him.
"Mr. Wilmington indicated that you had some errands to run and that I should
‘keep you company’ since he and Mr. … Tadell are going to
the train station to check on arrangements for Dayton."
"Oh yeah," Nathan finally caught on. "Josiah asked me ta look for a new book,
and I saw a book store down the street a ways."
"By all means." Ezra indicated to the walk and they made their way down the
street.
They wandered down the block and crossed the street at the corner. Nathan
pointed out the bookstore and they traversed the side street and entered
the business. The storeowner eyed the pair as they browsed and seemed curious
as the healer picked up a book and showed it to Ezra. He moved to join them
in the corner of his store.
"May I help you sir?" he looked at the gambler and smiled.
"Well actually my good man, yes." he smiled back. "My companion here is looking
for a novel for an associate of ours."
The storeowner looked a little taken aback. It was obvious he was confused
by the southerner’s reference to Nathan as the man looking for a book.
"He can read?"
Ezra Standish looked at the man coolly as the hairs on the back of his neck
began to stand up.
"My good man ………" he started to say in a tone none too friendly.
"It’s alright Ezra," the healer stopped his friend.
"I’m looking for a book for a friend," he directed his attention to
the owner and tried to dissolve any mounting tension.
"Josiah said he heard this man …. Jules has written another book. Something
about goin’ ‘round the world. Says he missed the last one but thought
the one he read some years back was real good."
Jackson shook his head and muttered out loud as he looked at the gambler.
"Strange idea if ya ask me. People ain’t got no way ta go to the moon."
Standish looked at the healer and laughed.
"Going to the moon" he repeated. His eyebrow was raised questioningly, and
the laughter was clearly audible in his tone.
"That would be Monsieur Jules Verne …. Sir," the storeowner clarified,
but he was still talking to Standish. "A Frenchman of some considerable talent
I might add. Your friend has a taste for adventure."
"Flights of fancy perhaps." The gambler was still stuck on ‘going to
the moon’.
"You got this new book then?" Jackson asked, trying to overlook the fact
that the shop keep was all but ignoring his presence.
"Yes."
The man moved to the back wall and climbed the ladder to reach the third
shelf. He shuffled through the books and found two he was looking for. Retrieving
them he returned to the counter where he had originally been standing. Jackson
and Standish joined him.
"I have here the book your friend is looking for. It was published in America
about three years ago. " He placed ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’
in front of Ezra.
Standish looked at the book and then at the man in front of him. Although
highly amused by the title of the book, his concentration was still on the
fact that the storeowner was still ignoring Jackson completely. Without breaking
eye contact, the gambler slid the book over to Nathan.
The storeowner’s expression was clear as he continued. He placed the
second book closer to the healer.
"This book was released in Europe in 1870."
Ezra’s gaze moved to the second book and he snickered out loud as he
tapped Jackson on the shoulder.
"If nothing else Mr. Jackson, my associates keep me smiling. First going
to the moon and then around the world." He pointed to the second book.
"Now to the bottom of the ocean." He looked back at the owner and smiled
as he shook his head.
"How you remain in business sir is beyond me."
Amused by neither the comments, nor the customers, the man tried to rid himself
of both as quickly as possible.
"Will you be taking the material?" the man directed his question to Nathan
for the first time.
"Well," he looked at Standish. "Josiah only gave me enough money for one
book. "Don’t suppose you’d be willin’ ta …….."
Now this was a question Ezra Standish would normally not have considered.
He looked at his friend and then back at the shopkeeper. He could see the
disdain in the man’s eyes as he looked at Nathan. The gambler briefly
considered that this might have been himself a couple of years ago. Thanking
the powers to be for his enlightenment, Ezra responded to the query.
"Well of course Mr. Jackson. Anything for my friends."
Patting the healer on the back once again, Standish pulled out the money
roll from his vest pocket and paid the shopkeeper. The man handed the southerner
a small amount of change with one hand and the two books to Nathan with the
other.
"Good day … gentlemen."
Nathan smiled and Ezra tipped his hat as they departed the store. The gambler
took hold of Nathan’s arm, as they were about to cross the street.
"I trust I can rely on you to remind Mr. Sanchez of the amount of which he
is in my debt."
Nathan smiled again and shook his head. He should have known the offer of
money was too good to be true, but he appreciated his companion’s
‘show’ of friendship in the face of bigotry.
"Mr. Larabee," the telegraph operator called to Chris
as he sat in front of the restaurant reading a book. The gunslinger looked
up at the young man.
"Yes Walt."
"Mr. Larabee," he handed the man a piece of paper, "Telegram from Mr. Wilmington
sir."
Chris nodded his thank you and the young man headed back down the street.
The gunslinger opened the paper, read the message from his oldest friend,
and set it on the table.
"Another wire from the judge?" Josiah questioned as he approached. He’d
seen Walt Simpson heading towards his leader and decided he’d better
check.
"Just Buck," Larabee replied as he went back to his book. "Sayin’ that
they got to Ridge City alright and would be back in four or five days."
"That’s about what we figured."
"Yep."
Josiah smiled to himself and tipped his hat at the gunslinger as he turned
to return to the jailhouse. He knew better than to try and keep a conversation
going when Chris wasn’t in the mood.
The gunslinger adjusted himself in his chair as he tried to get comfortable
again. Suddenly there was a shadow across his face and he looked up and offered
a smile to his visitor.
"Afternoon Mary."
"Good afternoon Mr. Larabee and how are things with you today."
Chris looked at the woman intently. He tried to read her body language but
couldn’t understand the dialect she was speaking. He gave up after several
long seconds.
"Somethin’ wrong?"
Mrs. Travis smiled at her favorite blond and sat in the chair across from
him.
"Nothing is wrong Chris. I just …..," she lowered her head. "I was just
wondering ……. I wondered …"
For some strange reason Mary felt like a schoolgirl. She knew what she wanted
to ask this man, but the words just wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
Larabee could sense her disposition. He set his book on the table between
them and reached over to lift her chin. He spoke as their eyes met.
"What Mary?"
One look into his beautiful hazel eyes and the words flowed.
"I was wondering if you would care to join Billy and I for some supper this
evening. As it’s Saturday, I am preparing a chicken…… It’s
a little too large for just the two of us and since you’ve been in town
a lot of late. I though perhaps you would care for a home cooked meal. Of
course, if you’d prefer to eat at the restaurant I’d understand
….."
"That would be nice."
She hadn’t realized that she could say so many words with so little
air in her lungs, but it was his short response that took her breath away.
Did he just say yes, she questioned herself! Her expression was rather
puzzled.
"Yes," he said again, just to make sure she had understood him.
"Well," she smiled at him as she got to her feet. "Shall we say six o’clock
then."
Larabee nodded his head in agreement and returned her smile.
Mary looked at the gunslinger inquisitively.
"Could you possibly …. Tidy up a little?"
A scolding look crossed the gunslinger’s face as he looked at the woman.
She tilted her head and smiled.
"See you at six Mr. Larabee," she called as she turned and walked away.
As Chris Larabee watched her walk away his expression softened. She was a
sight to see whether she was coming or going. He picked up his book again
and smiled. Dinner at six it is!
Sundown found the four peacekeepers in a dusty saloon
at the far end of town. They had tried to enter the one closer to their sleeping
quarters but found their entrance denied because of the color of Jackson’s
skin. Buck has caused a small skirmish before Tanner pushed him on down the
street.
The tracker sat quietly on one side of the table sipping at his beer, while
Wilmington and Jackson looked about the room. Ezra was busy eyeing up the
card game going on in the corner when a tall, lean, well-dressed man approached
the gaming table and watched the activity.
"My lord." Standish called out.
"What?" questioned the lady’s man. He had been distracted by a rather
pretty brunette over by the bar, and did not look at the gambler as he made
his remark.
Ezra got to his feet and straightened his clothing.
"If you gentlemen would excuse me," he fluffed his collar. "I believe I have
observed an old friend. I believe it would be prudent on my part, to reacquaint
myself and perhaps partake in the current diversion afoot at the corner table."
The gambler smiled at his companions, tipped his hat and departed.
"Can’t that man ever just say ……" Jackson started to say.
"Nope," interrupted Tanner. "Don’t know how." He concluded his statement
as he swallowed down some more beer.
Buck’s attention had momentarily been diverted from the young lady at
the bar. He followed Standish with his eyes and looked at the tall man at
the card table.
"Did Ezra Standish just use the word ‘friend’?"
The gambler stood behind the tall, well-dressed man and
smiled.
"Addison Maynard?"
The man turned at the sound of his name and a gently smile slowly made its
way to his face.
"Ezra …. Is that you?" the man questioned in a familiar southerner accent
a little stronger than his own.
Standish returned his old friend’s smile and offered his hand to the
man. Slowly they shook hands and completed their greeting.
"Indeed. How long has it been my good man?"
"Oh, ….." he flicked one hand in the air. "I’d say at least six
years … maybe more. Let’s see …. Last I saw of you, my grandfather
was having you thrown off the property, …… yes, I believe that’s
correct."
"And how is the dear old man?"
Maynard’s smile disappeared from his face.
"Dead I’m afraid."
Ezra too lost his smile and shook his head.
"Not to worry Standish." He clapped the gambler on the shoulder and smiled
again.
"Wasn’t your fault. Happened last year. …. " He tapped his money
belt. "He left me a bit of money to console myself with though."
The two gentlemen smiled at each other as they watched a man vacate his seat
at the card table. Noticing that there were now two seats open, Ezra motioned
to his friend.
"Care to join me?"
‘Don’t mind if I do."
The two men settled in for, what they hoped would be, a good game of cards.
They ordered drinks and kept up the conversation intending to discover what
each had been up to during their separation.
Across the room, Buck Wilmington had sidled over to the lovely ‘lady’
at the bar and was making himself at home.
Nathan and Vin sat quietly at their table. Finishing up his beer, the tracker
turned to Jackson.
"I’m feelin’ a might closed in. Care for a stroll before we turn
in?"
"Sounds like a good idea."
The pair glanced at Buck and Ezra as they made their way to the door. Those
two were definitely more comfortable in a bigger town.
Josiah moved slowly around the healer’s clinic.
He was trying hard not to wake the boy, but he stumbled over the chair Casey
had relocated. JD sat up with a start.
"What …. What!" he called.
"It’s nothing son, just a clumsy old man tryin’ to be quiet is
all."
The kid looked at Sanchez and smiled.
"Any man can be clumsy when there ain’t enough light ta see the side
of a building right in front of ya." He lay back down on the big pile of
pillows Casey had collected for him. It’ll help yer breathin’
she had said.
"How ya feeling this mornin’?" The preacher located his bible and moved
to the bed.
The kid stretched and smiled as Sanchez handed him a tray of food.
"Between you and Casey watchin’ out fer me, I ain’t had much time
ta ma self. Reckon’ I’m a might interested in getting’ out
ta this bed today."
The preacher smiled to himself. The kid had had his share of bed rest that
was for sure.
"I’ll be conducting service in a hour or so. Nathan did say you could
get out ta bed taday," he tapped the boy on the shoulder.
"No over doin’ it though," he quickly added.
"I know Josiah, Casey gave me a talkin’ too yesterday. Reckon she
ain’t up fer seein’ me in bed all the time."
Sanchez smiled at the thoughts that crossed his mind as he headed for the
door.
"Well John Dunne. You might need ta think through your actions in the future."
He opened the door and moved through it.
"Havin’ a woman in that frame of mind ain’t good for a man’s
soul."
JD considered Josiah’s words for a minute as the door closed behind
the big man. It took a few seconds before he caught on to his meaning. JD’s
expression was a combination of embarrassment and contentment as he set about
eating his breakfast.
The morning sun found Vin Tanner resting on the rooming
house porch with a cup of coffee in his hand. He’d been up with the
sunrise and was watching intently as this new town slowly came alive. The
tracker never passed up an opportunity to study the local wildlife no matter
where he might be.
Today he was particularly interested in a young colored boy across the street.
Tanner figured the child to be about three years older than Billy Travis,
but it was obvious that he hadn’t been given much opportunity to be
a child. The boy had been already busy at his task when Vin arrived on the
scene. Since then he’d completed washing the store windows, swept down
the walkway on both sides of the general store, and was now busy moving heavy
stock items out in front of the business.
Vin watched as the boy tried to move a heavy barrel out to the side of the
double door. Feeling the weight of the container loaded down with farming
tools, the child moved to the other side and tried to push, rather than pull
the load. The barrel still did not move, and boy pushed a little hard.
The container, and all its contents, went crashing to the ground, as the
child put more pressure on the top of the barrel rather than the bottom.
Momentarily stunned by the accident, the boy huddled into a ball as a large
white man holding an equally large switch came into view and started waving
his arms in the air and yelling. Tanner quickly set down his coffee and went
bounding across the street and stood between the man and the boy.
"Now hold on there …… T’was just an accident. Ain’t
nothin’ broke. Ain’t no reason ……."
"This ain’t none of your concern mister," the man responded gruffly.
"Best you just mind yer own business."
"Reckon it’s my concern if’n ya’s aiming to use that there
switch ta harm the little fella."
"I’ll do what I like on ma own property." The man stood up tall and
had several inches on Vin. A vague memory passed through Vin’s mind
at the harsh words the man spoke. The tracker stood his ground and looked
the man in the eye as best he could. What he would have given for someone
to stand up for him when he was young.
A few of the townsfolk had stopped to watch as the two men stared each other
down. Even the boy huddled in the corner was now watching the battle of wills.
Noticing the attention he had succeeding in gathering, the man became more
agitated.
"If you’s so concerned with the darkie’s well being, I reckon you
can just give ‘im a hand cleaning up this mess," the man finally said.
He waved the switched in the air and stormed off back into the store.
Vin turned and watched the storeowner disappear into the back of the shop
then turned his attention to the boy.
"Come ‘ere young fella" he called.
The child looked at him with fear in his eyes and did not move.
"Come ‘ere," Vin repeated. "It’s alright, I ain’t gonna hurt
you none."
The boy seemed a little more at easy with the tracker’s gentle tone
and he slowly got to his feet. Looking around at the people who were staring
at him, he slowly moved over to the man.
"Now," Vin patted the boy on the shoulders and smiled. "Let’s see what
we can do about gettin’ this mess cleaned up shall we."
The boy gave Tanner a small smile as the few remaining observers moved on.
Together they started to clean up the debris strewn all over the boardwalk.
Billy Travis came rushing through the door to the jailhouse
and jumped happily into Larabee’s arms. The gunslinger was surprised
when the door burst open, and wasn’t quite ready for the boy when he
made his leap. Together the two of them went lumbering into the desk as Chris
tried to cushion the boy from any bumps he might get.
"Whoa there Billy," Larabee called out. His tone was course, but his face
betrayed his attempt at discipline.
"William Steven Travis," a decidedly stern mother called out from the doorway.
"How many times have I told you, you are getting too big to be jumping up
at people like that. Now you apologize to Mr. Larabee right this minute."
"It’s alright …."
"I’m afraid I must disagree with you Mr. Larabee. It most certainly
is not alright. Billy ……."
If looks could kill both Chris and Billy would have been in trouble right
now.
"Sorry Chris. I didn’t mean ta …to surprise you like that."
The gunslinger looked at the boy and then at his mother. It was obvious that
she was trying to discourage him from some of his activities, and he tried
to play along.
"Well perhaps you can knock next time," he smiled at the boy trying to say
‘it’s okay’.
"We’re goin’ to the church service this mornin’. Are ya
comin’ Chris?"
"Billy!" Mary called out.
The younger Travis looked over at his mother in surprise. It was just a question,
why did she raise her voice like that? A lot of people in town went to
Josiah’s Sunday morning service. Billy might avoid it if given half
a chance, but his mother insisted that they go every week. The boy was about
to ask a question, but was distracted as Cody Haynes walked passed outside.
"Hey Cody," Billy yelled as he jumped out of the gunslinger’s arms and
ran out the door. "Wait up………."
Chris and Mary watched the boy leave. The smile on the gunslinger’s
face slowly disappeared as he realized that she was looking at him intently.
They’d talked about this before. She had asked him more than a few times
if he would attend a service now and then. The one word answer had always
been the same, ….. until …….
She knew something had happened while she had been away four months ago.
She knew several of the peacekeepers had been at odds with each other. Mrs.
Potter had told her about the attempt on the bank and the resulting argument
between the men. But that was all she knew for sure, she couldn’t explain
the little changes in them.
All Gloria knew was that Chris had left town before Tanner, and that he had
only come back three days before Mary arrived home. He was very quiet for
weeks. Kept to himself a lot, and was always riding out of town ……..
watching for Tanner he had said. When she asked him about what had
happened, he wouldn’t answer her. None of the men would even explain
where the tracker had gone.
When Vin had finally come back, everything seem to go back to normal. She’d
got up enough courage three Sundays later, to ask Chris about church again.
He had looked at her for a long time, before closing his eyes and lowering
his head. She’d almost believed he was being torn in two different
directions from the look in his eyes. Then he had finally looked back at
her. There was no expression on his face when he spoke the heartfelt words.
"You gotta accept my answer Mary. …… I can’t listen to
words about a God I don’t believe in anymore. ……… Maybe
one day ………. But right now I have to be accountable to myself.
…… You have to trust to me on this."
She hadn’t asked again.
"Well," she turned to leave. "I’d best be after him before he finds
something else to crash into."
And with that she was gone. Larabee lowered his head and closed his eyes.
He didn’t know which one of them he was more disappointed with.