As they approached the stables they could see Josiah riding in from the other end of town.
"Thought Chris was doin’ the noon rounds while we were gone?" Wilmington commented suspiciously.
"Thought so too," responded the healer. He instinctively looked around to see if he could spot the two missing peacekeepers. Nothing seemed to bother these men more than a change in their agreed schedule.
"Well, well … the wandering lambs have returned to their flock," the preacher announced with a big smile, as they all came to a stop at the livery. He dismounted and studied the other four men carefully, as they got off their horses and unfastened their saddlebags.
"Everythin’ all right in town Josiah?" the lady’s man questioned. "Chris ain’t got you doin’ all the patrols... has he?"
The preacher’s broad, toothy smile swept across his face as he considered the thought. Taking orders from Larabee was one thing. Letting the man run rough shod over him was another.
"Just done a little rearrangin’ is all. Suppose we’ll have ta do it all over again seeing as you’s all back."
"Perhaps we can negotiate a twenty four hour pardon from our appointed rounds," Standish quipped as he handed his horse off to Yosemite. "I suddenly feel my discomfort becoming acute."
"Just a day Ezra," Nathan jokingly asked out loud. "Good lord man, you must be getting’ betta quicker than I thought."
The healer tapped the gambler on his good shoulder as Yosemite took his horse. He had learned long ago when each of these men were really hurting and when they were just acting up. This was a good sign from the southerner. He really was starting to heal nicely.
For his part, Ezra just raised an eyebrow at Jackson’s remark and turned his attentions to the preacher as the blacksmith retrieved Josiah’s horse.
"And just where might our other two associates be Mr. Sanchez?"
"And how’s JD doin’?" Nathan added.
Josiah smiled and motioned towards the street. The four men followed him as Yosemite relieved Wilmington and Tanner of their mounts.
"I do believe we might find them at the jail."
"Trouble?" asked the tracker quickly.
"Nope," the preacher noted as he patted the smaller man on the shoulder.
"Found ‘em there yesterday when I came back. Afternoon before too."
"Doin’ what," Jackson inquired curiously.
The preacher grinned and cocked his head.
"Seems our John Dunne has finally found something he can do to entertain Chris Larabee."
Wilmington stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the trailing preacher. Tanner, Jackson and Standish followed Buck’s lead. The three men watched the preacher’s smile widen and then Buck’s inquisitive expression changed to a familiar ‘Yeah, … Right!’ look.
"And just what might that be Josiah?" The lady’s man knew Dunne had a tendency to get on Larabee’s nerves with all his youthful attributes in play. Even when the kid was being ‘grown up’, he still had to watch his step sometimes.
Sanchez just smirked, raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side as he motioned towards the door of the sheriff’s office.
Buck’s expression was now one of challenging determination as he turned to finish the final few steps to the jailhouse. Somehow, the other men knew Wilmington was about to piss the gunslinger off something awful. Or at least he’d give it a good try. They each hesitated momentarily trying to decide if they should follow, or hide.
"Well, hell…" the tracker whispered softly. "This ought’a be good." He smiled, shook his head and followed anyway.
"Welcome home gentlemen," Standish added as he motioned for Sanchez and Jackson to joined the rest of the seven.
Two days earlier JD had asked Chris if he knew how to
play checkers. Larabee had shied away from the memories that quickly flooded
his mind. He’d always enjoyed the game, and had taught Adam how to play
as soon as he was able to understand the concept. The gunslinger hadn’t
played since his son’s death.
Dunne had sensed his leader’s faltering concentration when he inquired
about a game. Knowing better than to press a topic when the gunslinger reacted
this way, JD had immediately dropped the subject. To the kid’s surprise,
Chris found him about an hour later and accepted the young man’s challenge.
The game they were currently engaged in was their sixth, and Larabee was
actually enjoying himself.
Enjoying himself enough to lighten the mood a little. Having seen the four
riders return, JD had suggested a little ruse. The gunslinger had warned
the kid about how suspicious Wilmington might be, but Dunne never willingly
gave up an opportunity to ‘put one over’ on Buck.
Neither Larabee nor Dunne flinched as Wilmington entered the room boisterously
and stood over the desk. JD wasn’t sure how long he could ignore the
big man with the suspicious look in his eyes. He did know he was having a
hard time trying not to smile though. The kid slowly looked across at Chris
and smirked as he reached down to move a game piece. Jumping three of the
gunslinger’s pieces, he took his opponent’s fallen men and looked
back at Larabee.
"King me," he requested proudly. His smile was wide and mischievous.
Chris looked indignant as he actioned the kid’s request. He glanced
at his last remaining game piece, and raised his hands in surrender.
"Looks like you got me again JD. That makes twelve games in a row doesn’t
it?"
"Sure does Chris."
"All right … that’s enough." The lady’s man leaned over the
table placing his large hands on either side of the game board.
"Don’t know who you figure your foolin’ with this little act of
yours."
"What act?" Dunne piped up rather incensed by the accusation. He got to his
feet and looked at the big man.
"Buck, you been out in the sun too long. Chris and I was just havin’
a little friendly game…"
"Of Checkers…"
"Yeah, checkers. What wrong with that?" The kid put his hands on his hips
and waited for an answer while the lady’s man searched for one. Wilmington
was obviously caught off guard and the desperation was clear on his face.
A sudden snicker from Standish caused Buck to face the men standing behind
him. The four were obviously enjoying the performance, but tried to hide
their amusement from the big man’s stare.
Trying to let the kid have his fun, Larabee had busied himself putting the
game pieces in a small box and was now finished. He got to his feet with
the box and board in hand, and secured them on the bookshelf beside the gun
rack. He turned to face his oldest friend, but decided to talk to the kid
instead.
"Can I try again tomorrow JD?"
"Sure Chris. But I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya now, just because
you lost a few games."
"And you … what … forgot how to play?" the lady’s man questioned
his oldest friend sarcastically. No matter how much they kept up the ploy,
he wasn’t falling for it.
"I guess I have," he slapped Wilmington on the shoulder and sat on the edge
of the desk.
More snickering from the door momentarily distracted Buck from Chris’
attention and that gave the gunslinger time to move back to business.
"So … everything go smoothly?" he asked as he looked around at the four
men. Larabee could see that Tanner, Jackson and Standish were still trying
to hide their amusement as they tried to nod their heads. He turned his attention
back to Wilmington.
"Any problems?"
"Nope."
"And Tanner managed to keep a low profile," he asked looking back at the
tracker. He’d been concerned about Vin’s safety since the four
had left more than a week ago. Outwardly, of course he had remained cool
and put his faith in his men.
Wilmington smiled as he recognized the opportunity he had been searching
for.
"Mostly…"
"Mostly?" The gunslinger looked at his oldest friend with due caution. This
kind of answer was why the ‘faith in his men’ usually didn’t
hold much water.
"Vin … pretty much … kept a low profile," he walked to the tracker
and put his arm around the smaller man before heading for the door.
"… Pretty … much?" Larabee questioned cautiously as he got to his
feet. He was beginning to not like the way the conversation was going. There
were days when he reckoned he was dealing with a group of schoolboys rather
than a collection of grown men sworn to protect a community. The fact that
he had just agreed to be part of one of those games now completely slipped
his mind.
Standish and Tanner immediately realized where Wilmington was headed with
his response and slowly edged themselves towards the door as well.
"Yeah," Buck replied as he stood in the doorway. "As long as you …
don’t count the royalty thing..."
And with that he was gone. Tanner snickered loudly, and followed quickly
behind, while Standish shook his head and tipped his hat to his leader before
he too abruptly disappeared.
Caught off guard by the nature of Wilmington’s answer, Larabee looked
questioningly at the preacher and then at Jackson. He raised his eyebrows
requesting an explanation, and got a pair of raised hands in reply.
"Oh no…" Nathan responded as he shook his head. "I ain’t gonna
get myself any deeper inta this than I already am." He moved to the door,
then looked at the three men in the room.
"Just cause I was … accompanying the ‘prince’ on his
travels, don’t mean I had anythin’ ta do with planning the trip,"
Jackson muttered quickly as he left the office.
Three very stunned and confused peacekeepers stood looking out an open door.
Larabee was leaning against the doorway of the
sheriff’s office watching the town as it slowly prepared for the end
of the day. Wilmington caught the gunslinger’s eye as he met up with
Tanner in the middle of the street and began talking.
"Just what do you suppose all that nonsense was about earlier?" the preacher
asked as he peered over his book. He had been trying to relax in the chair
out front, but had sensed his leader’s sudden annoyance.
Chris looked at Sanchez sarcastically.
"Stupid question! …I know." Josiah cocked his head and held up a hand
in surrender. Larabee had no better idea about what had gone on, any more
than he did. He considered his fellow peacekeepers as they walked towards
the saloon and then disappeared from view.
"Pardon the pun…" he glanced at the gunslinger and smiled.
"But I’m puttin’ my money on Ezra … Those two are just enjoying
the show. Standish is the one who wrote the play."
Chris looked at the preacher intently as he thought on his words. Josiah
wasn’t beyond the occasional practical joke himself, but his senior
status amongst the seven usually prevailed. Of all of his men, Larabee could
rely on the preacher to be a level head when he needed one.
"Well, … you’re probably right about that Josiah, but…" Chris
conceded as he straightened up and turned to go back inside.
"Sure would like to know who in their right mind, would mistake Vin Tanner
for a prince though," he mumbled as he went inside.
Sanchez chuckled at the words and shook his head. Then I wasn’t hearing
things he thought to himself as he looked about town. He smiled as he
spied Jackson and JD as they walked towards the saloon and disappeared inside.
Didn’t take Nathan long he considered. Always lookin’
out for his patients. The preacher adjusted his new book and tried once
again to read it.
"Are you going to open that thing or just play with it?"
the preacher asked of Wilmington.
The lady’s man folded the envelope he was holding and stuffed it in
his pocket. He looked at Sanchez and managed a small smile.
Josiah bowed his head briefly
"You didn’t open the other two either… did you?"
Wilmington shook his head as he turned towards the edge of town and searched
for the noon stagecoach. Not seeing anything, he slowly walked toward the
building and leaned against the hitchin’ post.
"She’s just asking me ta go and be with her."
"You don’t know that fer sure until you read the letter. Besides …
ain’t that what folks do when they're suppose ta be engaged?"
Buck lowered his head.
"I can’t leave Josiah… I made a promise." He glanced up quickly
before bowing his head.
Sanchez pulled his coat collar up against the coldness of the wind and smiled
at the images going through his mind. April had seen a pretty young woman
come to town and literally sweep Buck off of his feet. The suggestion of
marriage had seemed so uncharacteristic, that none of them had believed
Wilmington at first. Before Louisa Perkins left she had accepted the proposal,
but on the condition that Buck join her on the road. Not especially liking
the idea of being transient again, particular on someone else’s schedule,
the lady’s man had been thinking on the idea ever since.
When another young lady had come into town barely five weeks later, she had
succeeded in changing all of their lives forever. The preacher didn’t
know the exact details, but he’s surmised that Buck had made some sort
of agreement with that young lady too. It seemed to be a completely different
kind of promise than that of a marriage proposal, but Buck’s reactions
seemed to suggest that it might be more important.
"So what this telegram say again?" Buck asked, obviously changing the subject.
"Well," Josiah began. He knew better than to try and press a topic when another
wasn’t willing to discuss it further. He looked towards the edge of
town and then turned back toward the lady’s man.
"The judge gave us a brief description of a man who’s been… asking
too many questions." He nodded his head. "Yeah, that’s how he put it."
"Questions about us?"
"Yep!"
"And this fella was from New York City."
"Yep!"
Wilmington stood up straight and took a couple of steps before cocking his
head towards the preacher.
"Now how’d you figure a fella from New York heard about us?"
Sanchez was about to answer…
"And why the hell would them fancy folks in a big city like that care anyways?"
The preacher smiled at the questions. They were exactly the same questions
John Dunne had asked three days ago when the wire came in.
"Don’t know for sure brother," Josiah commented before gazing north
once again.
"Judge Travis just figured it would be in our best interest if we kept an
eye out for this gentleman and … perhaps … sent him packing before
he can get off the stage."
Buck was thinking over his questions in his own mind. Scratching the back
of his neck as he customarily did when he was ‘thinkin’, he turned
to the preacher.
"Ya know when we was in Ridge City sheriff Baxter mentioned that he’d
read about us in a paper from Eagle Bend."
The preacher considered the information and rubbed his chin.
"Well that doesn’t surprise me. Mrs. Travis is always writing articles."
He smiled at the thought. "There are times when we’re the only news-worthy
thing around these parts."
Wilmington too smiled at the thought. If the seven weren’t getting other
folks out of trouble they were usually finding some of their own, in one
form or another. Chris was right about their antics sometimes. Buck shook
his head and laughed a little.
"And I suppose when the stage stops here for a few hours layover, people
are inclined to pick up the local paper … and maybe even take it with
‘em to read on the ride. Don’t seem unreasonable that word gets
around about us." The preacher concluded his statement and turned at the
sound of the stage in the distance.
"Let’s just watch the folks that decide to stay awhile," he moved back
towards the stage office as the coach approached.
"Yeah," Buck agreed as he too backed up.
Jackson looked up as Buck and Josiah came in to the
sheriff’s office and quickly closed the door behind them. The wind was
a lot colder today than it had been all fall and everyone seemed to be noticing
it.
"Still readin’?" the preacher asked as he moved towards the stove. The
lady’s man was close behind.
"There’s some stuff in ‘ere I ain’t never heard about. It’s
a new edition. Says they learned a whole lotta stuff durin’ the war
and these are some of the new ways of doin’ things."
"Uncanny, ain’t it?" the preacher commented.
Nathan looked at Sanchez for an answer and then up at Buck. Wilmington shrugged
his shoulders and rubbed his hands together over the stove. He knew Josiah
was about to say something philosophical and he wanted no part of it. Sometimes
he had a hard enough time understanding regular people. Josiah in one of
those moods … no, he didn’t care to comment at all.
"How’s that?" the healer inquired. He figured he might as well ask.
Josiah was going to tell them anyway.
"How the most extraordinary of circumstances, produces the most extraordinary
results."
"You think the war was… extraordinary?" Wilmington questioned, obviously
a little overwhelmed by the statement.
Sanchez could see the puzzled look on Nathan’s face as he turned back
to answer Buck’s question.
"Extraordinary," he stated bluntly as he turned away from the stove. "It’s
a word that has many meanings brothers. It can mean inconceivable as well
a strange… Never accept that an uncommon word has only one purpose.
A word like that … well it just suits this particular circumstance
perfectly. Simply put… some good usually comes from the bad."
Nathan looked at the preacher then down at his new book. He smiled.
"So many different ways ta die, they had ta come up with a few new ways ‘a
healing folks so they didn’t lose so many men."
"Adversity and necessity often make strange bed fellows."
"I’ll agree with that," Nathan concluded as he closed the book and stood
to get himself a cup of coffee.
"Where’d you get the book anyway?" Wilmington asked. He could see the
object of their discussion on the desk, but he didn’t recognize it.
The healer warmed his hands on his cup and took a sip before answering.
"Came the day after you left."
"Special delivery addressed to one Doctor Nathan Jackson. Straight from New
York City," added the preacher as he too poured himself a cup of coffee.
"There’s that name again. New York City," Buck looked at the preacher
questioningly. The curiosity was clear in his voice. "What’s that all
about anyway?"
"This is a mystery too!" the healer added as he flipped open the cover of
the book.
Buck wandered over and glanced at the publication. Written on the cover page,
in an elegant handwriting script were eight words.
| ~~ Thank You
for the life of my niece ~~ |
The lady’s man frowned as he glanced at Jackson
and then at Josiah.
"Don’t look at us brother. We’ve been trying ta figure it out for
a week now."
"Yeah," agreed the healer. "I’d say it came to the wrong place except
it was clearly addressed ta me. I don’t know no one in New York City,
and I think I’d remember if I treated someone who came from there."
"Came from where?" Dunne questioned as he came in.
"New York City," Buck responded.
"Oh they was tellin’ ya about this fancy book, ha," he quipped as he
closed the front cover and picked it up. "Makes a good paperweight though."
Jackson set down his coffee and retrieved his new possession.
"Show some respect JD. This book may help heal someone you know."
Dunne’s expression changed as he realized that his jokes didn’t
belong in this situation.
"Sorry Nathan. I didn’t mean no harm."
"Saving lives ain’t nothing ta joke about JD," the healer responded.
"You, of all people, should know that by now."
Comprehending the irony in what Jackson was saying, the kid nodded his head.
"Where’s Chris?" Wilmington asked trying to change the subject yet again.
He was still more than a little uncomfortable with the doubts and fears that
reared their ugly head both times the kid had faced death.
"Ain’t seen him since this morning," Dunne replied.
"Think he said somethin’ about checkin’ out his place. He ain’t
been out there since before you left."
Wilmington acknowledged the report with a nod of his head.
"Well I think I’ll just head on over ta the saloon and see what Inez
is fixin’ up for eats today."
"Hey, that sounds like a good idea Buck," JD responded.
"Oh no you don’t," Jackson put in. "You’re here to relieve me,
remember."
Dunne looked disgruntled as he watched Wilmington and the healer move to
the door and leave. He’d missed Buck’s company while they had been
gone and was hoping to spend some more time catching up.
"Do you want me ta bring ya somethin’ back," the preacher offered as
he followed the other two peacekeepers to the door.
JD shook his head, no!
"All right then," Josiah said as he smiled and bid the young man goodbye.
Looking around at the now empty room, the kid grumpily sat in the chair,
pulled a dime novel from his pocket and began to read.
Martin Haynes sat straight up in his bed and looked around
the small room frantically trying to find out what had woken him up. The
agitated horse sounds coming from the corral spurred him in to action. Lydia
sat up and looked at her husband worriedly as he donned his pants and grabbed
the rifle off of the wall above the dresser.
"Stay here," he ordered as she started to get out of bed.
"Martin…"
She was interrupted as their eldest child came into the room. He had heard
the noise, and was clearly worried.
"What is it Pa?"
"I don’t know Cody. Stay in the house with yer Ma until I find out."
"Martin," she called again as she put on her robe and shoes. He turned to
look at his wife as she stood by the cradle. He gave her a reassuring smile.
"Be careful."
He nodded his head as he walked out of the bedroom and through the kitchen
to the side entrance. Double-checking the chamber of his weapon, he grabbed
some more shells from the cabinet high on the wall. He shook his head once
more time to clear any leftover cobwebs, then slowly opened the door. After
checking for any signs of intruders, he moved outside, and secured the door
behind him.
Haynes could hear his animals signaling their fear, but he couldn’t
tell what it was they were afraid of. After allowing his eyes a few seconds
to adjust to the darkness, he moved cautiously around to the front of the
house and looked towards the corral.
He could make out his three horses in one enclosure, and the milk cows in
the other. They were all quite restless, yet there was no obvious sign of
intruders. Martin was about to move towards the barn when he heard the chickens
in the hen house explode into a frenzy.
He quickly turned his attention to the smaller building beside the barn.
He had built the structure last year to house his workshop. They had looked
for a property that had more than one barn, but were unable to find something
suitable. Lydia had liked the layout of the house here, so they decided this
would be their new home. Building the workshop was easy work for the carpenter,
and adding the chicken coop on the side was just a little extra work.
Haynes could hear what sounded like growling and animals fighting. Wolves
Maybe! he thought. He cussed himself for locating the workshop so close
to the barn. There were too many shadows and very little space to maneuver
should be faced with a pack.
He took a couple of steps closer as the chickens started to quiet down. He
surmised that they were all either dead or dying. Damn! Another step
and he fired his rifle in the air twice. He listened to the animals fighting
then the scurry of feet. There had definitely been more than one or two.
He listened intently for anymore sounds.
"Martin," Lydia called out from the front doorway. The worry in her voice
was clear.
"Pa."
The man glanced back at his wife and son for just a second before cocking
his head.
"I told you two to stay in the house," he called out gruffly. "Get back inside
… someone’s coming."
He listened as the horse got closer, then moved around to the other side
of the house when he pinpointed the direction the rider was approaching from.
He aimed his rifle at the shadow that appeared out of the darkness.
"Who’s there?"
"Take it easy Mr. Haynes. It’s Chris Larabee … I heard shots."
Martin lowered his rifle and offered up a small smile. If people around these
parts hadn’t actually met the man, they’d at least heard of Chris
Larabee. Opinions were definitely divided on whether he and his men were
good or bad for the locals, but the seven men always seemed to be around
when folks were in trouble. Now Martin Haynes understood that simple fact
all too clearly.
"Mr. Larabee … yes … that was me. Scared off some wolves I think."
He indicated to the direction of the barn.
"Not sure how many of my chickens they ran off with though. I was just gonna
check it out."
"Mind if I tag along?"
"No, … please." The relief in the man’s answer was clear.
The gunslinger got down from his horse and approached the carpenter.
"What are you doing out here so late at night Mr. Larabee?"
Chris thought it an odd question. He knew that most of the homesteaders around
Four Corners had requested the patrols he and his men undertook. The Haynes
family had only been here about eighteen months, but Martin usually attended
the town meetings they had every couple of months.
"Main road’s just over yonder. You know we patrol every night."
"Yes, …" the man hesitated. "I just … didn’t realized you
did any of the rounds yourself."
Larabee was a little taken aback by the statement, but lowered his head to
hide his reaction.
"Well … now ya know," he said as they approached the workshop.
The gunslinger held his hand out to block the carpenter’s path. The
two men stopped and looked at the damage in front of them. The wire around
the pen had been mangled and stretched all out of shape while the hen house
itself had been knocked off of its wooden foundation. Chicken remains were
everywhere.
"How’s they get in?" Haynes asked as he surveyed the destruction.
Chris walked to the other end of the pen and pointed to the fence and the
hole in the ground.
"Looks like they dug their way in … then probably ripped through the
fence trying ta get out. They probably weren’t expecting gun shots."
"Pa," a small voice called out cautiously from the darkness.
"Cody," Haynes called back to his son. "It’s alright son. It’s
just Mr. Larabee from town. You get yourself back inside now ... ya hear."
"Yes Pa," the boy replied. The disappointment was clear in his voice.
"Mr. Haynes," Chris moved to stand beside the carpenter. "I think it’s
best you go back inside with your family. You scared ‘em off …
I don’t think they’ll be back."
Martin looked back at the carnage and nodded his head.
"I suppose you’re right … not much we can do ‘til morning
anyhow."
The gunslinger surveyed the chicken coop one more time as Martin turned towards
the house. He stopped when Chris didn’t follow.
"Something wrong Mr. Larabee?"
Chris nodded his head and motioned for the man to continue back to the house
as he joined him.
"I’m gonna have Vin Tanner come out first thing in the morning," he
said as they walked.
"Can I get ya ta stay clear of the coop until he gets here?"
"What is it?" the man asked. It was obvious he didn’t understand what
the gunslinger was getting at.
"Just a feelin’," he said quietly.
Now Martin Haynes had never had the opportunity to talk with Chris Larabee
before, but he’d heard a lot of talk. He’d never really put a lot
of stock in it though. His son was best friends with the young Travis boy,
and Billy had conveyed his trust of Chris to Cody on more than one occasion.
Martin had listened to the two children talk one day, and found clear contrasts
between the ‘Chris’ Billy talked of and the ‘Larabee’
some of the other men complained about. He looked at the gunslinger
questioningly, yet somehow he trusted the man’s judgement.
"Alright," he replied as he stood by the door.
Larabee smiled and tipped his hat.
"Thank you Mr. Larabee," Martin called out as the dark clad man mounted up
disappeared into the darkness.
A dark horse and his equally dark rider slowly made their
way down the street and pulled up outside the sheriff’s office. Briefly
looking about town, Larabee dismounted and wrapped the reigns around the
hitchin’ post. He stopped, looked thoughtfully towards the ground then
smiled.
"How is it that you were only gone a week, and I missed yer sorry hide that
much," he questioned into the darkness? The gunslinger shook his head and
looked up at the roof of the jail. He stood motionless for several seconds
as he awaited an answer.
"Thought it was nine days!"
Larabee shook his head and smiled again.
"Seen Buck?"
"Reckon he should be alone ‘bout now."
"Alright then," Chris moved back to his horse and took the reigns from the
post. "I’m gonna turn in. You should do the same, I want ya ta ride
out ta the Haynes place first thing in the mornin’."
"Trouble?"
"Could be…" Larabee thought on the chicken coop again. "Some animals
hit their hen house a while ago."
"Wolves?"
"That’s what Martin Haynes said …" There was a pensive silence.
"You don’t think so?"
The gunslinger started to walk his horse towards the livery, but took one
last look skyward.
"Just got a bad feelin’," he muttered as he wandered off towards the
stable.
Tanner was laid out on the roof with his winter coat and bedroll to keep
him warm. He cocked his head to the sound of the horse and rider walking
down the street. He lowered his eyes for only a second before returning them
to the heavens above his head. The absence of the moon only seemed to make
the stars shine brighter, and Vin smiled as he considered the gunslinger’s
words. Things ain’t never easy when Larabee gets a bad
feelin’ he mused to himself. He would worry about that in the morning
though, right now he had other things on his mind.
Down the street a man stood in the shadows of his second
floor window and watched the tracker intently.
"That’s the third new moon in a row Mr. Tanner…" he whispered to
himself curiously.
JD strolled down the boardwalk in his usual youthful
way. It helped that the cooling weather had seemed to make breathing easier
over the past few weeks, and as of yesterday Nathan had given him a clean
bill of health. As he walked he tipped his hat to some of the townsfolk then
spied Sanchez and three horses. The kid figured someone was getting ready
to ride, so he quickly bounded across the street.
"Hey Josiah," he smiled. "What’s up?"
The preacher checked his saddle and turned to look at Dunne. He returned
the smile.
"And a pleasant good morning to you brother."
"Where ya’ll headed this early in the morning?" the kid questioned again.
Sanchez watched Vin and Chris as they exited the jail then looked back at
JD and frowned slightly.
"Chris has got a bad feelin’ about something that went on out at the
Haynes place last night."
The kid looked horrified by the announcement. Even he understood about
Chris’ bad feelings.
"Think I can tag along," he asked of Josiah. "Ezra’s taking over the
watch from Buck."
"If ya hurry." The reply came from Tanner as he slapped the kid on the back.
JD nodded his head and headed off towards the livery.
Sanchez watched Dunne depart and then looked back at Chris and smiled.
"Ah, the bountiful energy of youth."
Larabee shook his head and gave the preacher a sideways glance.
"Makes ya sick don’t it."
"Especially this early in the mornin’," Sanchez agreed with a smirk.
The tracker looked back and forth between his two friends and smiled that
familiar Tanner smile.
"Well if you two old men figure you can keep up with us youngen’s,"
he quipped as he got on his horse.
The preacher and gunslinger exchanged a dirty look as they too mounted up.
"Your time will come brother. Your time will come," Josiah promised as he
pointed his horse towards the livery and headed off.
Chris raised his eyebrows in Tanner’s direction as he settled himself
on his horse and set off after the preacher.
"And I hope I meet it with just as much dignity and defiance as the two of
you," Vin whispered to himself as he followed his friends.