Till Death Do Us Part

by KellyA

Author Note: This is my sequel to the "Obsession" episode. This story begins two months after Ella disappears. Thanks to my Beta NotTasha and idea Guru Carla and a special thanks to Mary McAuley, an able wordsmith, who loves to tinker. Mary is the author of part 29.

Webmaster Note: This fic was previously posted on another website and was moved to blackraptor in June of 2004.


Part 1

"Hey, Buck how's them ribs feeling?" Nathan asked, eyeing the sociable cowboy, over his plate of eggs and potatoes.

Buck rubbed a hand over his middle, feeling the bandages. "Sore, but didn't slow me down none last night, at least, that's what Miss Melissa told me." Buck laughed, wincing at the sharp pain that took his breath and elicited several chuckles.

Nathan smiled and shook his head in exasperation. The damn fool didn't know when to take it easy, but why should he be any different then the rest of the yahoos he administered to? The ex-medic furtively scrutinized the other members of their motley group. They had rounded up the last of the horse thieving Marselles' gang and they were all tired. JD sported a black eye. Josiah's right arm was bound in white, concealing a neat cut from elbow to wrist and Vin's bandaged head was the last payment before finally cornering the outlaws. Of course, they hadn't come quietly and the graveyard's population rose by five. Only one of the thieves had been apprehended, and he was cooling his heels in the jail. JD had asked the blacksmith to keep an eye on him until he finished breakfast.

Chris Larabee abruptly strode through the bat-wing doors, his dark form
cutting through the murky, liquor scented saloon. His men were inexplicably drawn to the place, like moths to a flame. The scowl on the stalwart gunslinger's face was partnered with a dark, pervading influence; his black clothing amplified the menacing atmosphere. Chris stopped between the tables where five of his men were enjoying the first decent meal they'd had in days.

"It appears brother Chris is in a particularly grave mood this morning," Josiah murmured to Nathan. Both men saw the scowl on their leader's visage.

The wooden legs of the chair scraped dryly on the worn floor as Chris sat at the table with Vin and Buck. Both men decided to forego their usual banter for a safer state of quiet: Chris Larabee didn't look like he was in the mood for any amusement. The man had a presence that tended to make the occupants of a room extremely nervous, but the five gunslingers weren't intimidated…much.

"I need someone to wake Ezra." Chris's voice was tight. His icy gaze froze on Buck, who desperately tried to ignore it.

Buck shook his head, and continued to shovel eggs into his mouth. The only sound was the scraping of his fork on the tin plate. 'Why me? Why is it always me?' The ladies' man raised brown eyes to see everyone staring at him. Buck swallowed the last of his breakfast and threw his fork down.

"Oh, no, not me--not again," he protested, throwing up his hands. "My luck is bound to run out, and anyway, it's JD's turn." Buck snapped a fiendish smile over to his young friend at the next table.

"What?" JD blurted out, spraying bits of biscuit over the table as well as Nathan, who happened to fall within the field of fire. Noticing that the dark-clad gunslinger was not in the mood for any verbal feuding JD decided to try a different approach. "Let's flip for it."

Buck considered his chances for a moment then nodded.

JD pulled a coin out of his pocket. "Heads, you go and wake him, tails, I'm his target."

The young sheriff tossed the coin in the air and caught it, slamming it down upon the table. He slowly raised his hand. Buck slumped back in his chair and groaned as a silver etched face looked up at him. Buck flashed JD a glare of reprisal as he slowly pushed away from the table, wiping his hands down the front of his shirt.

"Hey, Buck, don't get shot. Ain't got any clean bandages," Nathan remarked, with a toothy grin.

"Go low, he shoots high," Vin added helpfully. He glanced over at Chris who appeared lost in a world of his own making, his gaze locked on a yellow piece of paper he held in his hand.

"What should we put on your tombstone?" Josiah threw in, his huge grin splitting his face in half and lighting up his blue-gray eyes.

"Ha, ha! Y'all won't be laughing if'n he shoots me, and I bet y'all would just miss ol' Buck," he said as he reluctantly walked up the stairs toward Ezra's room. Buck's eyes were glued to the gambler's door, wishing he'd just come out on his own and save him the possibility of getting shot. Ezra's day started at ten, and anyone who thought otherwise risked a bullet. Although Buck couldn't recall anyone actually getting shot, there was a first time for everything.

Tanner's amused gaze followed Buck's reluctant progress up the stairs. He was fairly certain that Ezra was a good enough shot that he'd never kill anyone-unless, of course, he specifically meant to do so. Something real serious was brewing for Chris to actually wake the nocturnal gambler this early in the morning. Ezra was not a pleasant person in the morning, and it didn't appear that Chris was in an agreeable state. Vin had to wonder if it was wise to bring two such volatile men together in the same room. Ezra had been instrumental in nabbing the Marselles' gang. The slick con man had spent days going from one flea-infested town to another, collecting information. He had placed himself in very dangerous situations and like always, Ezra was alone. Oh, the others were near, but not close enough to help if things turned deadly. Had anyone even thanked the resourceful lawman? The thought buzzed within the tracker's head. Tanner made a mental note to talk to the gambler and tell him how much they appreciated his help.

Vin hissed as he tentatively touched the bandage around his head. A bullet had creased his skull and he still suffered from a terrible headache. He leaned back and nudged JD. "Ain't that the coin Ez gave ya?"

"Yeah," JD replied with an amused gleam in his eyes. "Buck still hasn't asked to see it." Smiling, JD flipped the two-headed coin in his hand and quickly pocketed it.

Chris sat silently, oblivious to the customary banter of his fellow lawmen and friends. His thoughts held by the yellow telegram in his hand. He had received the wire yesterday and spent all night contemplating what he should do, what he must do. His past was once again rearing its ugly head. Did he have the right to drag one of his men into it?

Vin could tell the words on that innocuous piece of paper had a stranglehold on his friend. The tracker knew that Chris had received the message yesterday and had watched as he rode out of town without a word to anyone. Vin had kept watch all night, planning to head out at dawn if Chris failed to return. He was thankful when his friend rode in shortly before sunrise.

"What is it, Chris?" Vin finally decided to ask.

Larabee raised his head, meeting Vin's even gaze. For once the perceptive tracker could not interpret the man's look.

"Wait till Ezra gits down here. I don't want to have to repeat this," he answered and lowered his head. Chris's expression more than his tone warned the buckskin-clad lawman not to push the issue.

Vin glanced over at Josiah whose own blue-gray stare was fixed on the gunslinger. Both men shared a silent fear--trouble was coming.

Part 2

Wilmington slowly approached Ezra's imposing door--anything that concealed possible death was imposing in Buck's book. He decided to knock first. Maybe, with any luck, Ezra was already up and about. He rapped on the door and waited, hoping to hear something. After a few moments he realized he would have to enter the room. Buck took a deep breath and crouched down alongside the doorframe. Ever so slowly, he opened the door only to be greeted with a bullet, splintering the wood next to his face. Buck jumped and fell on his backside, wincing at the pain it caused his ribs.

"DAMNIT EZRA!" He yelled from his position on the floor.

Buck slowly stood up and glared at the Southerner. Ezra was propped up on one arm in bed, wearing a devilish smirk. His warm gun held loosely in his hand. Sleeping late was one of the few pleasures Ezra was able to obtain from this dreary backwater town and it amused him to remind everyone of that, especially Buck.

"I gather Mr. Larabee is requesting my presence?" Ezra asked as he placed his gun down on his nightstand.

"No, I just do this for my health," Buck growled and stormed away. He was fairly certain that Ezra wouldn't shoot him, but it was still unnerving. Buck stomped down the stairs, returning to the bar amidst the muffled snickers of his comrades. He glared at JD, whose face was buried in his hands. "JD, if I find out you been connin' me…"

JD threw on one of his most innocent smiles and shrugged his shoulders at Buck's accusation. God, that boy hung around Ezra too much, Buck thought.

Part 3

Half an hour later Ezra was impeccably dressed and casually descending the wide stairway. He paused momentarily halfway down and cocked his head. He could tell something was amiss and it usually meant long hours in the saddle, eating Buck's cooking or transporting some malicious prisoner: either scenario meaning less sleep and less time at the poker tables.

Ezra took the last step and gracefully sat in a chair across from Chris's brooding visage.

Nathan did a cursory exam of the enigmatic con man. Standish was immaculately dressed as always but there was a weariness that stole some of the spring from his step and brightness from his eyes. Nathan chalked it up to the recent encounter with the outlaws. Standish had put himself in harm's way for someone else and that still astounded the wary healer. Nathan felt guilty for doubting him.

Silence settled on the lawmen as they turned their attention toward their leader. They all felt the anguish that seemed to have a death grip on Larabee's heart.

Larabee raised icy blue eyes. Instead of their usual deadly confidence, his gaze held only a measure of sorrow.

Chris and Ezra didn't always see eye to eye but over the past few months they had begun to develop some sort of bond. Exactly what sort of bond, Chris, or any of the others, had yet to determine. Chris still wondered why Ezra stayed on as a lawman after his month of prescribed duty had come to an end. There were better towns for a gambler to ply his trade. Maybe, like the rest of them Ezra was coming to think of this town as home.

"I need you to ride to Red Fork with me, Ezra," Chris stated flatly.

Without revealing his surprise Ezra leaned back in his chair and considered the somber gunslinger's unusual request. The Southerner's eyes narrowed, and he took a deep breath to give himself time to think. "And why am I being recruited for an excursion to this den of debauchery?" He was vaguely familiar with the town that sat to the east, just under a day's ride.

"Because I need your smart mouth to ask some smart questions." Chris wasn't in the mood for the Southerner's repartee. He had thought long and hard about this and it seemed the most viable recourse.

Buck's easy-going grin slowly slipped from his face, and he stared at his long-time friend and boss. "What's this about, Chris?"

Larabee shifted his gaze over to the ladies' man and took a deep breath,
exhaling before he answered. "It seems Ella Gaines has purchased property somewhere near Red Fork." Chris dropped the telegram on the table, hearing JD's soft whistle of disbelief.

"Man, I thought we'd seen the last of her," JD remarked. The woman
had almost torn them apart and had definitely instilled more demons into Chris Larabee's soul.

Chris knew better. He had never stopped thinking of the woman, who was responsible for the death of his wife and son. Chris's dreams of Sarah and Adam now included Ella's demonic face, laughing as she watched them burn.

Sanchez reached over from the other table and picked up the telegram reading it silently. "Who is JGB?" Josiah asked, noticing the initials at the bottom of the wire.

"Just someone I know who works in the office of public record in Red Fork. I've had people in several towns keeping an eye out," Chris explained.

How could Ella Gaines even show her face in the same territory? Vin bowed his head, a twinge of remorse flickering across his face. If only he had shot her when they last met. He had scoured the entire countryside for her without finding a clue. Ella's father had been an expert tracker and had taught her some tricks.

Chris returned his attention to Ezra. "Figured you're good at gettin' people to open up, or at least mad enough to say the wrong things."

Standish didn't know if this was meant as a compliment or affront to his dubious character. Next to Tanner, Mr. Larabee was a puzzle that Ezra was still trying to piece together. He held a deep respect for the scrupulous lawman, something he'd never held for anyone else in his life. He actually wanted to help Chris, although he knew this would probably come as a surprise to Larabee, as well as to the others, who believed he'd rather weasel his way out of any work.

"And if I refuse your cordial offer?" Ezra bluntly asked.

"Then plan on spending the next six months on morning patrol." A lopsided grin warmed Chris's rugged countenance. He could play the gambler's game. He had a feeling Ezra was more than willing to
help, but for some reason preferred to maintain his aloof appearance.

"Chris, why don't you take more of us with you?" Buck asked without looking at Ezra. Buck knew Ezra could hide his feelings, but he had learned to read the cardsharp in other ways and didn't want to see the hurt his doubt would cause. Buck considered Ezra a good friend, but sometimes the suave Southerner just seemed to be looking out for number one. He knew Ezra was dependable in a gunfight, but if Larabee and Standish were at each other's throats who would be paying attention to what was happening around them?

"JD and I can go with you," Buck added.

"You and JD are escorting the prisoner to Cedar Ridge tomorrow," Chris answered. "Vin has to scout for that army regiment, and Josiah and Nathan are expected at the Indian village. Anyway, this is goin' to be purely for information. If we discover anything I'll wire you; otherwise, we'll probably beat you all home."

Tanner didn't have to voice his displeasure; Chris could read it in the tracker's face. Vin hadn't trusted Ella Gaines from the moment he had laid eyes on her. He knew her to be dangerous: someone who would do whatever it took to get what she wanted--and what she wanted was Chris Larabee. Chris was a man who could normally take care of himself, but when it came to this demented woman from his past, Chris lost all reason.

"That prisoner ain't goin' nowhere. It won't hurt him none to stay here a little longer."

Larabee's face darkened and his words came out tight. "If she is there, Buck, I don't want to tip my hand. It'll be easier with just the two of us." He would rather have taken Vin or Buck, or even Josiah with him. The thought of traveling with the cocky Southerner for several days didn't thrill him. However, as Ezra had stated on numerous occasions, 'the others definitely lacked the essential skills of tact and diplomacy,' and that was exactly what Chris needed now.

"I don't like it," Buck said.

"Neither do I," Nathan added. He thought that Chris was making a big mistake taking the self-serving conman, but then Ezra did have the gift of gab. He made the rest of them seem about as subtle as General Sherman on a Georgia Plantation.

Larabee looked over at Josiah, but the ex-preacher only stared silently over his clasped hands. He knew the arrows of doubt the others were unintentionally flinging at the impassive cardsharp hit their mark.

"I didn't ask if you liked it," Chris growled back as he surged up from his chair and strode out the bat-wing doors, ending any further discussion.

Buck suddenly rose from his chair and headed out, too. JD shifted rueful eyes from Buck's retreating back to Ezra's expressionless face.

Ezra knew the others still harbored doubts about him even though they told him they trusted him. He wondered if he would be forever trying to prove himself.

Ezra slowly rose. "Well, gentlemen, I guess I should prepare for tomorrow's venture." He tipped his hat and headed up the stairs.

Part 4

Wilmington scanned the walk as he stepped outside the saloon. He strode over to the railing where Chris was rolling out a cigarillo. Buck sidled up next to his friend, grasping the railing with both hands and staring across the street.

"Think this is wise, cowboy?"

Chris didn't answer as he stuck the cheroot in his mouth. Buck turned around and leaned his backside up against the railing, folding his arms across his chest.

"Can't you wait for us to come with you?"

"It might be too late then," Chris pointed out.

Buck audibly exhaled. "That bitch took my family too. You know how I felt about that little boy of yours, and Sarah was the best thing that ever happened to you." Buck paused and turned his head to look at his long-time friend. "She also took you. You've never been the same since. I guess I just want my revenge, too."

Chris knew Buck felt responsible. Buck had convinced him to stay in Mexico another day: a single day that might have made all the difference. Chris stopped blaming the cowboy years ago but he had blamed him. Hell, he had blamed the whole damn world. Now the person who was truly to blame was within his reach.

"I have to do this, Buck. I need to end this for me," Chris drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. "And for my wife and son."

"I know, but you don't have to do it alone, pard."

Chris smiled. "I won't. Ezra will be with me."

"You know what I mean," Buck replied. He knew he wasn't getting anywhere with the determined gunslinger.

"We're just going to scout around, see what's what," Chris said, trying to put his friend's mind at ease. "I really don't think she'll still be around."

"And if she is?" Buck interjected.

"I'll wire and wait for you all to show up."

Buck's dark eyes narrowed. "Chris, you're a damn liar."

A flash of amusement crossed Chris's rugged features, softening some of the hard lines around his mouth. Chris bowed and shook his head. "Maybe so, but we're still doing it my way." When Chris raised his head the humor was gone. "She's out there and I'm going to find her." Chris's voice was pensive but Buck could hear the deep, pounding rage that hid behind those words.

Part 5

Ezra was packing for the next day's trip when a soft knock interrupted his swirling thoughts and preparations. The shirts he held were placed on the bed and he glanced over to make sure his revolver was within easy reach before making his presence known.

"Come in." Ezra watched as Vin stepped smoothly inside and closed the door. He then returned to his packing, pulling out another crisp white shirt from the dresser. "Yes, Mr. Tanner, what can I do for you?"

"Keep an eye on Chris for me, will you?" Vin simply asked. He didn't like this. He trusted Ezra--it wasn't that. But Chris wasn't thinking straight at the moment, and Ella Gaines was not a person to be taken lightly.

Ezra could sense the anxiety in the young tracker's stance. "Mr. Tanner, I will take the utmost care of our illustrious leader."

Vin cracked a smile and tipped his hat. He stopped halfway through his turn. "And take care of yourself too, we need ya." He exited as smoothly as he had entered.

A small smile crept up the corners of Ezra's mouth. Concern from another was not something he was accustomed to but he had to admit the feeling it elicited was rather pleasant.

He was suspicious of Larabee's motives to have him along. Admittedly, he would be able to acquire any information that Chris requested. His last meeting with Ella Gaines was not one he liked to dwell on. He had gained and lost a fortune all in the space of a couple days. And he nearly lost the only home he had ever known.

Part 6

The early spring morning was lacking in warmth and the sun was barely visible on the horizon. Larabee looked up from his horse's stall as Standish entered the stable in a dark mood and muttering a litany of complaints. Chris shook his head and continued saddling his horse, already starting to dread the long trek with the temperamental cardsharp. Well, at least Standish saw fit to be on time for once. He knew Ezra was the best man for this. The con man could filch information as easily as he could take a person's money playing cards.

Ezra set down his half-empty mug of coffee and finished buttoning up the buckskin jacket he had decided to don after getting the first frosty feel of the morning air. He ceased his grumbling when he noticed that Chris was also in the stable.

"Mr. Larabee, I see our fellow compatriots have already departed," Ezra commented, noticing the empty stalls. Why was he suddenly so nervous? He felt like a young boy trying to impress his father.

"Yep, Josiah and Nathan left last night," Chris replied as he opened the stall door and led his horse out.

Standish went to his horse and started to saddle him up. The chestnut nickered his aversion to being saddled at such an ungodly hour. "My sentiments exactly, old friend," Ezra murmured to his horse as he patted him on the neck. "But let's put on a good show of enthusiasm for this occasion."

Standish paused a moment and looked over his horse's back and saw Chris checking his saddlebags just outside. Maybe this little trip could be put to good use; maybe the two men could work out their differences. Ezra thought highly of the esteemed leader, though he would never tell him. He wasn't sure how the stoic lawman felt about him. And why did he care? Ezra had caught himself more than once concerned about how the others perceived him. His mother would be truly disappointed and probably demand that he leave Four Corners before he became useless as a con man. He would never admit it to her, but he liked feeling useful and a part of something important. Why couldn't he express his feelings about things that actually made him happy? When he was very young he remembered telling his father that he loved him-he never saw him again.

Ezra picked up his coffee cup and let out an exasperated sigh when he noticed that it was now empty. He glared back at his horse, but the amusement in his green eyes belied his show of displeasure. "I guess you needed a stimulant, too. I hope the beverage was to your liking." The horse snorted and Ezra rolled his eyes at his steed's antics.

Ezra joined the eager gunslinger outside the stable, loosening his coat as the sun endeavored to warm up the frigid air. Ezra's boots crunched on the frost-covered ground and a plume of his breath wafted out in front of him.

Chris effortlessly flung his sinewy frame over his horse's back, imperceptibly tightening his knees and getting immediate
co-operation from the animal beneath him. He allowed himself the faintest of smiles as Ezra followed his mount. "You ready?"

Ezra opened his mouth, prepared to retort with his normal sardonic attitude, but changed his mind. "Yes, Mr. Larabee, I do believe I am." Chris's brow raised in puzzlement.

Ezra lightly spurred his horse forward and past Chris's stunned
expression.

Part 7

Buck and JD had been on the trail for several hours, and Buck was glad when he could finally shuck off his coat and soak up the warmth of the late morning sun. His ribs felt better this morning, but the jarring movements of his horse still reminded him how sore he was. Buck looked over his shoulder at JD who was leading another horse and trying to ignore the constant whining of their prisoner. Mitch Radcliff, the lone survivor of the Marselles' gang, sat resentfully in the saddle; his hands tied to the saddle horn.

"Can't we rest?" Radcliff complained. He was not happy. Radcliff had hoped to stay in Four Corners and find a way to escape, but now he was heading for Cedar Ridge and a rendezvous with the gallows. To top it off the lawmen were forcing him to maintain an intolerable pace. They hadn't even had breakfast and it didn't look like they were going to stop for lunch either.

"No," Buck curtly replied. He was getting tired of the man's constant grumbling.

JD squinted back at the prisoner then ahead at his friend, his black eye only now starting to open up. "Hey, Buck, maybe we should let the horses rest. We're pushing them awfully hard." He was worried about his friend and mentor. The farther they got from town the more agitated Buck seemed to get. Usually the young Easterner enjoyed these trips with Buck, he was like a big brother to him. But today was different: Buck was acting like someone with a burr in his britches.

"We ain't stoppin' till we get this sack of shit to Cedar Ridge,"
Buck announced. "Then we're getting fresh horses and headin'
back home."

Buck stared off at the overlapping foothills, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He had tried to dismiss the gut-wrenching feeling that something terrible was about to happen. But the further they got from Four Corners, no, not the town--Chris, the worse it got.

"I thought we were goin' to stay in town a bit," JD questioned.

"There's been a change in plans," Buck replied, the anger in his voice dwindling into frustration.

JD's brow creased under his dark hair.

"Buck, what's wrong?"

"I don't know." Buck's voice was barely above a whisper and it sent a shiver down JD's spine.

"You don't think Chris will shoot Ezra?" JD asked, only half in jest.
This was always a possibility when the two men were in close proximity to each other, and now they were alone together. "I mean...you know how crazy Ella Gaines makes Chris. What if'n Ezra gets in the way or somethin' and Chris forgets that Ezra is a friend."

Buck chuckled and wished it was that simple, but the dull ache in his gut refused to be pacified.

JD looked back at his bewildered prisoner, who stared at his two captors.

"What's the hold up? Are we restin' or what?" Radcliff hollered.

"Shut up!" Both gunslingers yelled back.

Buck spurred his horse forward, and JD quickly followed. Radcliff settled back in his saddle as his horse was pulled along.

"Okay, there's got to be some law about abusin' the..." Radcliff's complaint was ended as JD turned around and shot off his hat. They were the last words heard from the outlaw for the remainder of the day. The man now believed the two lawmen were loco and he began to fear for his life.

Part 8

Chris and Ezra rode in silence most of the day. One lost within the horrors of past thoughts and memories-and within the words of a telegram. The other was lost among his own swirling reflections, which had, rather surprisingly, turned toward the gunslinger. When they first left Four Corners Chris appeared unwavering in his desire to face the woman who had destroyed his life. Now, as they closed in on their objective, the stoic leader seemed to be growing apprehensive. To face one's demons again and again can take a toll on anyone. Ezra refrained from his usual cavalier attitude while they were on the trail, partly because no one could save him from Larabee's wrath should he spark it.

They were nearing Red Fork but it was still early and Chris wanted to wait until evening before they entered the town, hoping there would then be plenty of activity to hide their entry. Standish pulled out some rations and tried to turn them into a palatable meal. He wasn't much of an outdoorsman but could manage in a pinch. There had been many times when staying in a town would have been detrimental to his health.

Standish glanced over the low burning fire at the silent gunslinger. His saddle sat on the ground, and he leaned against it, his plate untouched beside him. Chris seemed to have forgotten the gambler was even there. The gunslinger's normal impassive mask had slipped away, revealing an expression of sorrow. Ezra quickly diverted his eyes back to the orange and red flames, feeling as if he had intruded on some private matter. To see Chris Larabee in pain was a very sobering sight.

Two months had passed since they had met Ella Gaines and the two men had formed a cordial truce. Ezra didn't think that Chris thought of him as a greedy, self-absorbed con man, at least, not all the time. And Ezra didn't think of Chris as an insane and inexplicably driven killer. When the seven last faced Mrs. Ella Gaines, Standish had to admit that for a time, his only concern had been the possession of a rather sizeable diamond, which he had hoped would ensure his future. However, the valuable gem was unexpectedly torn from his grasp. Ezra would do all he could to help Chris, not just out of a sense of loyalty or duty, but because he considered the man a friend. He had never admitted this to anyone.

Ezra decided to try to break Chris from his self-imposed hell, not wanting the man distracted when they entered the town. He secretly hoped Ella Gaines would not still be around or that this was all just a case of mistaken identity. The woman had to know that Larabee would kill her on sight and preferably with his bare hands.

"Mr. Larabee?"

Chris raised his head to stare back at the gambler, not really seeing him. Ezra could see in Chris's blue eyes that his mind was still drifting.

"Chris," Ezra said again, raising his voice. "I realize my culinary skills are not up to par with Mr. Sanchez's, but certainly the meal is edible."

Chris stared at the Southerner, not fathoming for a moment what the man was talking about. He shook himself out of his dreary deliberations. "Sorry, the meal's fine. Just not very hungry."

"Why did you request my company on this excursion?" Ezra knew very well he could have switched assignments with Buck or even Josiah.

"I told you. You're the best man for the job," Chris simply replied.

Ezra smiled faintly and accepted his answer. It did make sense if they were only gathering information. Ezra's smile faded-- nothing was ever that simple with Chris Larabee. Perhaps Chris had chosen him because of all Larabee's men he would be the easiest to lose. Ezra believed that if he met with an unfortunate demise Chris would only mourn the loss of a man, not a friend.

"What do you intend to do once we apprehend this felonious female?" Ezra asked, shaking off the sullen feelings.

"Haven't thought that far." Chris released a tired breath and rubbed at weary, dust-blurry eyes. "If I had never met Ella life would be so different," Chris unexpectedly continued, an abiding sadness filling his eyes and his voice. "Sarah and Adam would still be alive."

The fire popped, filling the small space of silence between the two men.

Ezra winced at the guilt in the dark-clad gunslinger's voice. He had no experience dealing with someone else's emotional turmoil, hell; he wasn't even able to deal with his own. For a con man to show emotion, especially regret or trepidation was to show weakness and allow one's prey to get the upper hand. Ezra pushed aside his usual veneer. "Fate is a strange animal, Mr. Larabee."

"You would know, wouldn't you? With a mother like Maude you were destined to be what you are," Chris replied with more vehemence than he had intended. He inwardly berated himself for taking his frustrations out on the gambler.

Ezra chuckled. "So true, Mr. Larabee, so true," he agreed.

Larabee cracked an apologetic smile. He took a deep, calming breath, trying to release the tension building in his body. "Anyway, Ez, I might need a Southern gentleman to stop me from strangling Ella Gaines with my bare hands."

"I may have been remiss in offering my heartfelt condolences at your loss."

Chris shrugged staring intently into the flickering flames. "It was a long time ago."

"Time is not always the healer people believe it is," Ezra casually remarked. Chris raised his head abruptly and focused his attention on the con man for a moment, stunned by the insightful comment. Ezra was right; time didn't heal all wounds and especially ones where the scab was forever being peeled back and the wound exposed.

"I can only imagine what it must have been like to lose someone so near and dear to your heart," Ezra continued. He noticed that his words struck a chord deep within the gunslinger.

Larabee detected the hint of sadness, or was it envy in the conman's words? The others, like himself, had all lost someone close and knew the pang of loss. Had Ezra ever experienced the death of a loved one? Or was it that there was no one close enough to him to garner such an emotion. The latter thought brought a pang of guilt and sorrow to Chris's heart. He had to wonder whatever happened to the gambler's father.

Part 9

Josiah stood behind Nathan and watched him apply a splint to a little boy's arm. The Indian child squirmed under Nathan's gentle ministrations as he tightened the cloth strips. Sanchez set a bucket of water down and stared out toward the east. He flexed the fingers of his wounded arm, grateful to be getting some feeling back. His huge frame shuddered when a flock of birds rose up from some nearby trees. He couldn't tell what they were, but their small dark bodies swooped and dove along the rise then disappeared over the ridge.

"There now, no more racing your sister up any trees for a while, okay?" Nathan smiled and rubbed the boy's head as he raced off. The healer stood up and stretched, unaware that Josiah was standing behind him until he bumped into the huge man.

"Ay, Josiah what's up?"

"Josiah? Hello?" Nathan waved his hand in front of the ex-preacher's face, startling him. Nathan peered in the direction that had so captivated his friend and saw nothing but the low lying scrub.

"What's wrong, Josiah, see those crows again?" Nathan chuckled.

"Nah, something worse, a feeling." Josiah's brow furrowed and he wiped the back of his hand over his lips. He had a premonition--it was the only way he could explain the feeling--the not so pleasant tickling that ran down his spine. He felt like he was coming to a waterfall and preparing for the sudden drop.

Nathan cocked his head to the right, allowing his bewilderment to show through. "Don't suppose you could be more particular 'bout this feeling?" He had finished checking the Indian children, but he still wanted to see some of the older members of the tribe. Looking at Josiah he started to get the feeling the others might have to wait.

"Something's not right. I believe some of our brothers might be headin' for trouble."

Nathan ran a hand down his now troubled visage. The others all had a penchant for finding trouble. Sometimes Nathan believed that only Josiah and he had any real common sense.

"We need to get back to town." Josiah turned and walked toward the horses. The suddenness startled the healer for a moment…he stared after his friend then huffed and chased after him.

Part 10

Chris and Ezra waited for dusk before entering the small town of Red Fork. Both men kept their eyes peeled for any sign of Ella Gaines. The town was alive with all manner of men and women, most riding high on the influence of various drink and the festivities taking place throughout the town. Chris didn't see any sign of the law. He planned to talk to his contact at the Records Office in the morning. He still couldn't understand why Ella would purchase property so close to Four Corners.

"I'm goin' to get a room at the hotel," Chris explained to Ezra who was already scrutinizing the saloon across the street.

Ezra absently removed a deck of cards from his coat pocket. "And I shall see what information I can ascertain on our infamous Mrs. Ella Gaines."

Larabee smiled and shook his head. "I'll be waitin'. Just be careful."

"Always." Ezra tipped his hat and headed toward the saloon.

Part 11

Ezra stepped inside the saloon, allowing the swinging doors to flap in-sync, and close. He observed an opulence that was out of place in a town so far off the beaten path. A tear-drop chandelier hung in the center of the room and bar glasses lined the shelves behind the long polished bar. Even the barmaids were finely dressed in colorful gowns that enhanced their many firm attributes. Someone had recently put an appreciable sum into this place. He stepped aside for a couple of cowboys staggering past, holding each other up. Then he found what he was looking for: three men, sitting at a center table, one wearing a sneer that probably never left his face. The other two just looked bored.

Ezra confidently stepped up to the table and flashed a wide smile, revealing his gold tooth. "Gentlemen, I'm new to your little community and would like to partake in a friendly game." Ezra pulled out a large wad of cash, knowing the sight would quicken agreement between the three men. Ezra smiled as a chair was pushed out for him. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, for Chris's sake.

"Have a seat," one of the bored patrons replied.

Standish gracefully slid his lean frame into the offered chair. The bored looking men were exactly who he needed, the other was a little disconcerting. The third man's scowling face didn't hide his distrust, and Ezra knew he'd have to watch himself. Ezra began shuffling the deck and waved to a waitress for drinks.

"So, how did such a provincial town come to acquire such a magnificent saloon?" Standish asked as he dealt out another hand. He allowed the three men to win their share to keep things friendly. They were decent enough card players, but still not good enough to challenge his skill. Ezra had discovered that the grim faced gentleman went by the name Clifton. The other two were brothers, Frank and Wiley.

"See that tall, bald fellow talkin' at the bar," Wiley replied, picking up his cards, his lips twitched slightly as he looked at his hand.

"His name is Leo Kimball. He's the sheriff here and owns this place," Wiley finished, discarding three cards.

"Yeah, word is he hooked up with some rich dame," Frank added, not hiding his envy. "Man, I wish I could be so lucky."

"He's not a man you want to cross," Clifton quietly added.

"Really?" Ezra raised a quizzical eyebrow and ignored Clifton's warning, though inwardly he took it very seriously. Ezra glanced over at Kimball. The tall, bald man with a drooping mustache didn't look like Ella's type, but then anyone who could further her agenda would be her kind. Now he had to discover what the agenda was. He abhorred roughing up a woman, even one like Ella, but the sheriff wouldn't be a problem…not at all.

"Does anyone know the name of this woman who has seen fit to grace him with financial security?" Ezra asked, flipping down two cards and dealing himself a full house.

Clifton raised wary dark eyes and glared at the inquisitive cardsharp, causing the hairs on the back of Ezra's neck to prickle. Ezra felt like he just walked into the lion's den and woke the lion. Oh well, you can't outrun a lion, might as well continue with the game and hope the lion wasn't hungry.

"Nope, seen her though," Frank answered. "Dark hair, real purty thing, a bit high an' mighty actin'. She owns the ranch three miles North of town."

Ezra continued to ply the three cowboys with drinks throughout the evening. He watched as Sheriff Kimball finally left the saloon. If he and Chris could get the Sheriff alone they might get the answers they needed.

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me I have other obligations to attend to." Ezra swept his winnings off the table and stood. Placing his hat on his head, he noticed the shifty look in Clifton's eyes. He quickly bowed and left. He knew that Larabee would be climbing the walls like a caged cat by now, and he thought it prudent to inform him of what he had uncovered.

Clifton watched as the gambler left and then rose from his chair and walked out the back of the saloon.

Part 12

Ezra crossed Red Fork's wide main street and entered the Hotel. The woman at the front desk was alert, even at this late hour and watched him come in. No luggage she noted. By the worn look of his fine clothes she guessed he was a gambler-probably attracted to the saloon's new trappings.

"Good evening, Madam," he said warmly, flashing his gold tooth as they nodded to each other. "I believe my associate has already acquired our accommodations at your fine establishment." She stiffened, her sharp mind running quickly through the evening's clientele. She failed to recall any young woman who would be waiting for this handsome, auburn haired gentleman.

"I'm afraid my business associate is not the delightful companion a gentleman hopes for," he said, revealing her musings, "but a friend indeed." She smiled, enjoying his easy candor and opened her ledger.

"He has reserved adjacent rooms," she said surprising him, "that is--if your associate is a man of less colorful attire than yourself."

Ezra laughed and brushed off the sleeves of his fine red jacket. "That, my dear woman, would be him."

Larabee paced the small hotel room and glazed out the window that overlooked the saloon at every pass. It had been over three hours. He wasn't happy about sending the urbane Southerner out alone, but he couldn't risk being seen by Ella if she happened to be in town. At least he hadn't heard gunfire. He hated putting one of his men in danger. But if there was any information to be had, Ezra was the one to get it.

Chris was genuinely worried for the cardsharp. Ezra had five minutes to walk through that door or he was going after him. The thought had barely left his mind when Ezra silently slipped into the room, prepared for the revolver Chris pointed at him. Chris quickly holstered the weapon. "What 'cha find out?"

"Well, Mr. Larabee, it appears Mrs. Gaines has bought herself a sizable ranch not far from here." Ezra crossed the room, removing his hat and stepping up to the bed. "She's also been seen in the company of a disreputable fellow, who is the town's sheriff and goes by the name Leo Kimball." Ezra sat down on the bed, bouncing lightly on the uncomfortable mattress, before continuing. "Apparently, Mrs. Gaines is financing Sheriff Kimball's expensive life style for whatever reason I couldn't devise."

"So, she's settled here?" Chris asked. This didn't make sense, unless she wanted Chris to eventually find her.

"It would appear so. Apparently she is unconcerned with being detected."

Chris rubbed his chin, starting to get a bad feeling.

As if reading Chris's thoughts, Ezra added, "I suggest we proceed somewhat cautiously as I feel Mrs. Gaines has a strong hold on this town and I may have tipped our hand."

Before Ezra could elaborate the door was abruptly kicked open, and three men filled the doorway with guns drawn. Ezra reached for his gun but felt Chris's hand on his arm, stopping him. Chris turned to face the intruders and Ezra hadn't failed to notice that the dark-clad gunslinger had unconsciously stepped in front of him--was Larabee protecting him?

The two lawmen reluctantly raised their hands, taking notice of the badges the three men wore. Ezra swore under his breath as Clifton appeared, the grinning visage of Sheriff Kimball at his side.

Clifton scurried over and grabbed Chris's guns, and then went over to Ezra and removed his guns and the wad of cash he still had in his pocket.

"Oh, don't forget that fancy rigged derringer that Mr. Standish has up his sleeve," Kimball exclaimed.

"Mrs. Gaines doesn't forget much," Ezra quietly stated. Clifton roughly pulled off the Southerner's jacket and stared at the fancy rigging on his arm.

"Take it off," Clifton growled.

Ezra slowly unstrapped the bindings and allowed the device to fall into Clifton's waiting hand.

"Who the hell are you?" Chris snarled at the bald man who stood in the doorway, overseeing the actions of his two men.

"Sheriff Leo Kimball, at your service," he greeted. When Clifton told him some fancy dressed cardsharp was asking about him and Ella he couldn't believe it. Ella had warned him that someone would come and do exactly that, although she had told him that it would probably be someone dressed in buckskins, or a mustached cowboy. The Southerner was unexpected, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that they had Larabee. He looked over at the darkly dressed lawman and slowly smiled as he rubbed his hand over his bare pate.

"So, you're Chris Larabee," Kimball snorted, "Ay, Graham, what'cha think? He ain't so tough."

"Sure ain't, boss."

"I gather this intrusion is due to the fact that I asked the wrong questions?" Ezra intoned.

"Nah, you asked the right questions, just asked the wrong people," Kimball laughed, laying a heavy hand on Clifton's shoulder. "Clifton, here is on my payroll. Ella knew you'd be coming and set up this whole reception."

Chris stood coolly; his azure eyes blazed, disclosing the anger that existed and grew inside him. It had been a trap, and deep down he had known it would be. Damn, why had he brought the gambler? He should have come alone but if he had tried to do that he would have had six lawmen following him.

"What do you want?" Chris finally voiced.

"Oh me? I don't want anything, but Mrs. Ella has plans for you."

"Then let my partner go and I'll come peacefully," Chris stated, glancing over at Ezra and daring the smart-mouth gambler to say anything. Ezra chose to remain silent, figuring that if he were allowed to leave he could get the others.

"Doesn't work that way. She has plans for him too," Kimball replied.

This caused Chris's jaw to clench, and it didn't tickle Ezra's fancy either. What could Ella Gaines want with him?

"Now come along and no one has to get hurt...yet. You're both under arrest."

"What's the charge?" Chris quipped.

"Oh, I'll think of something," Kimball laughed.

Part 13

Vin shifted in his saddle and looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time that morning. He was not normally the nervous type, but something was driving him to distraction, and he was fidgeting like a greenhorn gunfighter. He felt a terrible need to return to town.

Vin pulled up his horse, stopping in front of a large gap between two high cliffs. He could feel the growing heat radiating off the stone walls, and his eyes expertly scanned up and down the smooth sides of the cliffs. A young Sergeant pulled up alongside him.

"What's the problem?" The Sergeant had noticed how his scout didn't seem to have his mind on his job, and he was about to voice his concern.

Vin turned and looked at the Army man. "This arroyo will take you all the way through."

The Sarge's eyes narrowed, and he looked at the ravine, and then returned his attention to his scout. "You're not coming with us?" That had been the arrangement. They were to be led all the way through the canyon to the other side.

"Nope," Vin slowly replied.

The Army was trying to map out the surrounding area. They said it was to chart out land for both the Indians and the swelling ranks of white men who were filling the West. Vin had his doubts that this was their true intent. He didn't trust the Army, but the money was good, and if it was true, maybe it was a step in the right direction.

"You're contracted for the whole way."

Vin rubbed a rough thumb over his lower lip and glared back at the army man. "Sorry, something just came up. I won't take any money and you and your men will get through just fine without me." Before any further protest, Vin reined his horse around and rode off.

The Sarge glared after the buckskin-clad man and shook his head. "Damn civilian," he muttered. Raising his arm he and the rest of his men entered the narrow canyon way.

Part 14

Chris swung around as he was shoved from behind into a cell, attacking the bars as the door slammed closed. Ezra was shoved inside an adjacent cell, barely keeping his feet.

"Hope you fellas enjoy your accommodations," Kimball laughed.

"I have to admit they're a step up from that rat trap you call a hotel," Ezra quipped.

"Boy, do you ever shut up?" Kimball growled. He had listened to the Southerner's constant barrage of questions and innuendoes all the way from the hotel. Half the time he didn't know what the educated man was saying and this only infuriated him. He didn't like looking stupid in front of his men.

Larabee glared at the talkative Southerner, silently sending him a warning to keep his mouth shut. He hated that he had gotten Ezra involved with this, but the con man wasn't helping matters. Chris had hoped to have Ezra ride out and get the others, while he took care of Ella personally.

Ezra removed his hat and dropped it on the rickety cot, not sure the flimsy piece of furniture could handle much more than that. Chris was pacing the other cell. The man must go through a lot of boots.

"Mr. Larabee, this needless expulsion of energy is counter-productive," Ezra good-naturedly commented.

Chris violently grabbed the bars. "And what would you suggest we do?" he said angrily. "The others won't be back to town for days." Chris slapped the bars and turned his back on the maddeningly composed gambler.

"I suggest we remain calm and think of a way out of here." He stared intently at the locks on the cell doors. They were new, but nothing he couldn't take care of if he had the proper tool. The armed guards outside the door were another problem. He and Chris were defenseless, but Ezra figured Chris could take care of that end.

The town was slowly quieting. Ezra sat silently in the dark cell, deprived of even the moon's luminous glow. He heard Chris slide down the wall and was probably now sitting on the floor of his cell. Ezra leaned forward on the cot feeling the unsteadiness of the furniture.

"Ever wonder why none of us have moved on?" Ezra's soft accent broke the heavy silence. He wished he could see the expression on Chris's face.

"What the hell are you talkin' 'bout?"

Ezra smiled at Chris's sharp tone that was generally reserved for him.

"You ever think of movin' on?" Ezra asked simply.

Chris was quiet for a moment. In the beginning he had thought that he and Vin would have left for Tacosa by now.

"Used to, not so much anymore," Chris answered truthfully.

"Exactly my point. In reality we all should have gone our separate ways long ago, instead, we cling to something none of us understand. We all seemed to have been afflicted with the same inability to leave our quaint municipality, or each other."

"Why you reckon that is?" Chris asked. He knew the con man was trying to divert his attention from their present predicament. He decided to play the game.

"That, I have yet to discern." Ezra's voice carried a strong note of curiosity and wonder. He too had found it hard to even contemplate leaving Four Corners and the camaraderie of the six other gunslingers. He had even tried to ride out a couple times only to turn around.

Chris chuckled. "Well, when you do let me know."

"I will indeed, Mr. Larabee."

Part 15

The next morning found both gunslingers awake and sitting on their cots. They had taken turns sleeping, not trusting their captors, who had stood guard just outside the door. The rumbling of Ezra's stomach reminded them that they had not eaten. Chris rubbed his own empty stomach.

"Maybe the plan is to starve us to death," Ezra quipped.

The outer door to the cell area opened and Ella Gaines' lithe form entered. Kimball and two of his deputies followed close behind the elegant woman. Ella stopped several feet from Chris's cell and looked lovingly at the man. Chris wanted to rip her cold heart out.

There she stood: the woman who had destroyed his life. Chris shook with a rage that threatened to boil over. Ella Gaines was a beautiful woman but Chris saw only the woman responsible for the death of his wife and child. He couldn't believe he was this close again, yet unable to exact any revenge.

"I knew we'd find a way back to each other..." Ella murmured like a contented cat. "And acknowledge the great love we share."

"Come a little closer and I'll acknowledge it," Chris growled.

Ella maintained her adoring smile. "Ah, I sense a little hostility."

Ezra rolled his eyes as he leaned against the bars with arms folded across his chest. He couldn't believe it. This woman actually thought she still had a chance with Larabee. The woman was completely delusional.

"What's this all about?" Chris growled. He couldn't figure out what Ella hoped to gain by keeping him prisoner.

"As I have always maintained, my love, we are predestined to be together. I figured if I just gave you a little time you'd come to realize that."

"You killed my wife and son!" Chris yelled out at her. His face showed all the disgust he felt for this woman, but he didn't think that Ella saw this. Ella wiped at an imaginary tear in mock remorse.

"I forgive you for not appreciating what I've done for you, for us," Ella said as she raised her eyes to meet Chris's angry glare. "And I am truly sorry it had to come to that. But you had to be made to see that no one can stand in the way of our happiness."

Chris listened with a deepening frown to the same words that had been written on a letter that she had sent him. "You're crazy."

Ella's smile changed into something very unsettling for both lawmen, and Ezra got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could tell that Chris wanted nothing more than to get his hands around her throat and right now Ezra wished she would oblige him.

"All I've ever wanted is you, Chris," Ella openly admitted, her arms crossed against her bosom, and her liquid brown eyes looking lovingly, if not a little hungrily at Chris.

"Madam, I would suggest that you consider modifying your desire," Ezra calmly drawled, the faint lines of a smile never leaving his face.

A flash of pure hatred and madness raced across Ella's face, twisting her porcelain features and promising retribution.

Ezra didn't even flinch, although his insides felt like they liquefied a bit.

The gambler had been an unpredicted surprise. Ella had anticipated Buck or the long-haired tracker. If all seven had come she would have just vanished like before. She now wondered if her plan would work. Buck was Chris's oldest friend. She knew that her love was close to Tanner. But Standish? She had no idea how he fit in this puzzle.

Ella straightened her skirt as the stern lines on her face smoothed out.

"We will never be together." Chris's blue gaze burned with contempt as he stepped away from the bars. He was growing tired of Ella's game; he didn't even know the rules.

"Oh, but we will," Ella gleefully announced. "We're to be married tomorrow. It's all arranged."

Ezra's arms dropped to his side and he almost laughed out loud, but disbelief seemed to have taken his voice for the moment. He looked over at Chris whose stunned expression matched his own.

"I'll never marry you!" Chris sneered as the shock slowly wore off. She couldn't be serious.

"Oh, but you will. It's really quite simple," Ella explained, smiling toward Ezra. "After our marriage, Mr. Standish will remain in the capable and somewhat ruthless hands of Sheriff Kimball. You will come and stay with me at my ranch. One slip up, and Mr. Standish will meet with an untimely and painful end."

Larabee glanced at Ezra, whose face uncharacteristically revealed his shock. Chris then looked over at Kimball, who was thoroughly enjoying the situation. Chris lay his forehead against the bars. How can this be happening?

"How long you plan on holding him?" Chris asked, thinking that Ella couldn't possibly believe that she could keep Ezra locked up forever. For one thing, the others would eventually come looking for them, and for the other Chris hadn't met a jail cell yet that Ezra couldn't break out of.

Ella ignored Chris's question as her eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, Chris, you'll absolutely love the ranch! It's everything we've ever wanted. Not quite as big as the last one, but together we can make it a home."

"HOW LONG?" Chris repeated.

Ella looked at Chris as if he was some impertinent child, pulling on her skirt. "Just until I'm pregnant. I figure you'll take care of me when I'm carrying your child. Then no one will be able to destroy the great love we share. And you'll come to realize that we are meant to be together as a family." Ella clasped her hands together in imaginary bliss. The twinkle of madness sparkling in her eyes.

"You can't do this, Ella," Chris softly said, his voice shocked by the revelation of having a child with this woman. She couldn't make him do it. Chris looked over at Ezra, who had settled down on his cot; his head leaned back against the wall. Yes, she could. He wouldn't allow anything to happen to the Southerner, and Ella knew this, she knew he would do anything to protect his men.

"I'll be by later to discuss our wedding plans."

Chris shivered as Ella's green gaze drifted over to Ezra then returned to meet his. "Till we're together again, my love." She blew Chris a kiss and tossed her long black hair over her shoulder as she abruptly left. Kimball's glare lingered awhile on his two prisoners pausing longer on the Southerner, and then he followed Ella out. His two deputies quickly falling in behind him. The clang of the solid outer door was the closing curtain on an appalling scene.

Ezra felt like he was looking at the scene of a terrible accident. He couldn't tear his thoughts away from the carnage. The gambler saw the look in Chris's eyes and knew the man wouldn't forfeit his life. Larabee would do what was asked of him. This was totally irrational in Ezra's book, but the wily cardsharp found that it had warmed his heart to the very core. Now, he just had to find a way to help Chris get out of this.

Part 16

Larabee fell heavily onto his cot, not believing what had just occurred. His gut clenched at the image of Ella carrying his child, and he thought he would become violently ill. No, he had to find a way out of this, for both himself and Ezra.

Ezra rose from the cot and came over to the bars that separated the cells. He hung his arms over the dividing cell bar and watched Chris stare blankly down at the stone floor.

"Chris, we'll get out of here..." Ezra's promise was cut short as the outer door again opened to allow four rather large and malevolent looking men access into the cell area.

"Ah, hell," Ezra murmured.

Without a word one of the men stepped forward and unlocked Ezra's cell. For a moment Ezra was preternaturally calm, a sense of the unreality of events had surely overtaken him. He stepped back as the four men crowded inside the small cell.

"Gentlemen," Ezra breathed out, his eyes darting wildly about the cell.

Chris jumped up and grabbed the bars that separated the two cells. What the hell was going on? Had Ella changed her mind about keeping Ezra? Both Chris and Ezra's expressions changed from bewilderment to horror.

"Alright boys, we can't touch that one," said Hawkes, a red-haired, mountain of a man. "But this one is fair game," he growled lecherously, the freckles on his face scrunching together.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Chris yelled, his fear growing for the gambler.

The four men ignored the blond gunslinger's threats.

Two of the gruff looking men grabbed Ezra's arms, wrenching them behind his back. Ezra clenched his teeth tight, not wanting to voice the pain that ripped up his shoulder blades. The red-haired man stepped in front of the now restrained gambler and took hold of his chin between thick fingers. He forced Ezra to look right at him.

"Well, looky, looky aren't you the purdy one. Maybe you and I can have a little fun together." The red-haired man chuckled and rubbed at his crotch. He smiled salaciously as he saw the look of fear come to Ezra's face.

Part 16a

Hawkes ran a callous hand down Ezra's cheek. "Take off his jacket."

The two men kept a tight hold as the third pulled off Ezra's fancy red jacket and vest, throwing them to the floor. Chris's breaths were coming out hard and fast. What could he do? He'd didn't think he could just stand there and watch what was about to happen, but neither could he turn his back on Ezra.

The red-haired man grabbed the front of Ezra's fancy shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying and ricocheting off the walls. Hawkes licked his lips at the smooth muscular chest that was revealed to him. "Shit, you sure are in good shape, lawman." He dragged a hand lazily over Ezra's chest, yanking the shirt down to his waist.

Ezra closed his eyes when he saw the bulge in the man's pants. A shudder went through him as the large hand touched and caressed him. He kept trying to convince himself that this wasn't happening: then the bile rose up in his throat. Suddenly the two men holding him slammed him against the wall, someone held his head, flattening his cheek on the cold stone.

Hawkes came up behind and grabbed the conman's hips, pressing against him. The men whooped with laughter as Hawkes licked the gambler's neck and sunk his teeth deeply into his shoulder. Ezra bucked desperately but his captor grabbed a handful of hair and whispered into his ear. "You a virgin? Guess we're goin' to find out." Hawkes' hand snaked between Ezra's body and the wall laying flat on the gambler's chest. Hawkes slid his rough palm down the tightly muscled abdomen and started fumbling with the front of Ezra's pants.

CONTINUE

(Dec 2000)


Comments: KellyA