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I don't own the Magnificent Seven and I'm not making any money from this piece of fiction.
Warnings: M/M Sex
Pairings: Chris/Vin
Feedback: Yes, Since this is my first try at an OW fic, I'd like to know what you thought.
Thank you FaraD for the beta and finding all those commas. You help me more than you know.
ONE
Chris watched as the colored man was forced down the street to Boot Hill by a mob of drunken cowhands. A woman tried to stop the mob, but she was brutally kicked to the ground and ignored. Larabee glanced up and down the street, waiting for someone to step forward, but no one seemed to care or were too afraid. As his eyes swept the town, he noticed a lean young man in a white apron, watching the situation from the porch he was supposed to be sweeping. Easy prey, Chris thought, as he felt the stirrings in his groin. The gunslinger watched as the young man set his broom aside and disappeared inside the store. He returned to the boardwalk a few minutes later, this time loading the rifle he held. And Chris revised his opinion.
Looking over at Larabee, the young man made eye-contact, nodded and a pact was sealed. Larabee and the stranger stepped into the street to meet their destiny and save a man neither one knew from being lynched.
Together with five other men, they later saved an Indian Village from renegade Confederate soldiers. They returned to town and brought an escaped murderer in to face justice. The seven men were subsequently hired by Circuit Judge Orin Travis to bring law and order to the lawless town of Four Corners, located in the Territory of New Mexico for a dollar a day and room and board.
Judge Travis looked over at the men he'd hired, "Well, I got... seven, huh. I want you gentleman to know I appreciate what you did.
M7 M7 M7
A few weeks later, Vin and Chris were sitting in the Sheriff's office, drinking coffee while Larabee went through the mail.
"That lady that owns the stage line here is mighty good-lookin'," Vin commented.
Chris smirked but continued reading. "Yeah, she is."
"Got curves in all the right places." he said, sipping his coffee. Vin glanced out the window.
Chris looked up, "You partial to widows, Vin?"
Vin blushed but shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just sayin', cowboy. I reckon we're just talkin' here."
"Yeah, I guess we are, and while we're talking, that Miz Travis is another fine-looking woman," Chris added.
"Ya might wanta think twice 'bout sparkin' her, cowboy, her bein' the Judge's kin and all." Vin grinned.
Chris laid the flyer down he was reading and gave Vin a short chuckle. "I think I'll leave romancing the ladies to Buck. It's safer that way."
Vin agreed, nodding his head. "Since we got Lucas hung, ya think that James bunch will give us anymore trouble?"
"Ain't sure, Vin, but we got to many other ranchers around here to worry about without borrowing trouble from James. The way Lucas begged, cried and fought Buck and I when we led him up those gallows stairs sure did embarrass Stuart James, though."
"Yeah, but tellin' him ta take it like a man didn't help matters any." Vin rubbed unconsciously at his throat.
Chris started to agree, just as Buck opened the door and said, "Better come quick, we got trouble."
Rising from their chairs, the men followed Buck over to the stage and freight office. Several men were helping a wounded man down from the driver's seat.
Nathan, their healer, pushed his way through the crowd to where the wounded man sat on the boardwalk. The same men had climbed back onto the stage to remove a body from under the driver's seat.
"Someone help me git this man to the clinic," Nathan yelled.
Two men stepped forward, picked up the wounded driver and followed Nathan. Josiah felt for a pulse on the man believed to be dead, shook his head and said a quiet prayer.
"That coulda been me," said a young man standing close by the stage.
Josiah started to approach him, but a woman stepped forward, "No John, calm down, it wasn't your day to ride shotgun."
Chris, Vin and Buck arrived at the scene at that time and Chris demanded, "What happened here?"
Chris looked at Josiah, who explained, "Someone robbed the stage. Shot the driver and killed the guard. They've taken the driver over to Nathan's."
A woman stepped forward and said, "I'm Rebecca Cross and it looks like the Hitchens gang hit my stage line again. What are you and your gunslingers gonna do about it? I'm sick of this happening over and over again. They're gonna put me out of business if this keeps up. And they're getting meaner. This time they've gone and killed my guard. It's the first time anyone's gotten killed, although they have no qualms about hurting my people, but so far they haven't hurt or killed any passengers, thank God. So, Mr. Larabee what are you going to do about this?" Rebecca Cross stood her ground, hands on her hips and fumed. "My son, John, could have been riding shotgun on that stage today," she said, still facing Larabee.
Mary Travis stepped forward and placed her hands on Rebecca's shoulders, giving her support. Before Chris could say anything, Mary said, "The Hitchens Gang works for the ranchers, but no one can prove that and they've run roughshod over this territory for about a year now. They hide out in the desert, probably around the badlands." Mary waved her arm towards where the foothills ended and the desert began. She continued, "We had a good sheriff in Mark Hicks. He tried to keep the peace, but the last time he formed a posse and went after the gang. The posse returned with the Sheriff dead. No one has tried to do anything since then."
Chris held up his hand. "We'll take a look around. Right now, I'm going to go talk to the driver and find out what happened. We'll see what we can do about it."
Looking at Ezra, Larabee said, "Someone get the Undertaker. This man have a family? Josiah, would you see to that?" Chris and Vin started down the boardwalk towards Nathan's Clinic.
The two men entered the clinic just as Nathan finished bandaging the driver of the stage line.
"He all right to answer a few questions, Nathan?" Chris inquired.
"Yeah, the bullet took a chunk of meat out of his side, but didn't hit nothin' vital. I put a few stitches in it." Clapping the driver on the back, he continued, "It's gonna be sore for a few days, Emmett, but you'll live."
The driver looked at the healer. "Thanks Nathan." He glanced at Chris and Vin. "I'm Emmett Banks."
Both men nodded at Emmett and Chris asked, "What happened out there?"
"We were headed back from Salty Flats when they jumped us. It was Hitchens all right. That dadgummit outlaw didn't even care if we seen his face 'er not. Tom shot at 'em 'fore he's killed. First time they killed anybody. We didn't have any passengers or I reckon they'd killed them too."
Vin stepped up. "It's lucky they let you live, old-timer."
"Reckon they figured I'd bleed ta death 'fore I reached town," Emmett answered, giving Vin a guarded look.
"What do you carry that's so valuable?" Chris wanted to know.
"The mail. Miz Cross has the mail contract hereabouts. But she'll lose it if we fail to deliver it too many times. Hitchens got Four Corners mail today. Weren't much left in the bag. Just a few letters, I reckon."
"Where were you held up?" Vin asked.
"'Bout five er six miles east a town. Out 't'wards Eagle Bend, but b'fore ya git to the turn-off."
Chris frowned, thanked Emmett and he and Vin left the clinic. At the bottom of the stairs he turned and ask Vin, "What do you think?"
"I think it's mighty s'picious that the guard is killed, but the driver is allowed ta live."
Chris nodded, then asked "Why don't we ride out to where the holdup took place and check it out. We'll know more then."
Vin agreed and headed for the livery to saddle their horses.
M7 M7 M7
It was easy to see where the coach had been stopped. There were a lot of tracks. Then wheel tracks headed to town, but six or eight riders headed southwest.
Vin checked the ground, walked a ways following the riders' tracks. He gave his head an annoyed shake and walked back to where Larabee waited.
"They's headed off t'wards the desert. If their hideout is in the badlands it'll be damn near impossible to shake 'em loose," Vin informed Chris.
"There's nothing to do, but follow them. We've got to stop 'em one way or another. So we may as well get to it," Chris said, turning his horse around.
"It's gittin' dark, cowboy, we should wait 'til mornin'. Then we can git plenty a water and some supplies. The desert ain't no Sunday picnic. Man could die a thirst real quick out there."
"Okay, we'll wait 'til morning. I'll get Buck and Josiah to go with us."
Vin mounted and the men turned their horses back towards town. Chris didn't ask Vin if he was sure the outlaws were headed into the desert. He trusted Vin explicitly, but if asked why, there was no way he could formulate an answer. That's just the way it was.
In the saloon that evening, Chris explained to the others. "Ezra, JD and Nathan, you three stay in town. It looks like the gang is hold up somewhere in the desert. They may even be as far in as the badlands. We'll take enough water for two days," Larabee finished.
"The badlands? Are you sure you want to try and follow them into that hellhole?" Buck asked.
The man in black stated, "If we're gonna stop that gang, we may need to. We leave at first light. Best get a good night's sleep." Chris and Vin rose and headed out the door.
JD groaned "Why do I have to stay here. I want to go and have fun too."
The men looked at JD, smiled and with chairs scraping on the floor, headed out the door, leaving Ezra and JD at the table.
"What?" JD said.
"Son, I can assure you where they are headed, they will not be having fun." Ezra rose and headed for the poker table.
M7 M7 M7
At dawn the next morning, the four riders left town, headed towards the the desert. As lowland scrub gave way to arid desert terrain, Vin picked up the tracks of several riders and followed them. He'd been riding ahead and disappeared down a gully. Returning, he reined in Peso and waited for the others. Larabee called for them to stop.
Vin said, "Tracks are headed into that wash and then tend ta veer south. Ain't nothin' out that way but wasteland, so I reckon we know, for sure, where they're headed."
The men continued on until they came to a creek, about ten or twelve foot across. The powerful smell of rotten eggs hung heavy in the air.
"What the hell is that?" Buck sniffed and looked disgusted.
"That's sulfur, brother," Josiah explained. "There's probably a underground spring that feeds it around here someplace. You can drink it, but it tastes mighty nasty."
Buck groused, "What fool would wanna drink that?"
"Depends on how thirsty ya are," Josiah smirked. "I guess you can get used to anything."
Vin interrupted, "The tracks head off in that direction. They seem ta follow the creek bed. As rocky as it is, looks like they ain't even tryin' to hide their tracks."
"Any towns around here?" Chris inquired.
"Nearest town is 'bout fifty miles that way." Josiah nodded his head toward the west. "Vin's right, there isn't anything out this way."
Continuing on their way, Vin was able to make out the occasional hoof print on the rocky ground, or a rock overturned, showing him they were still on the right path. The trail led through a switchback canyon, along arroyos and hogback ridges.
Buck finally called a halt. "We need to give these horses a break. I hope someone knows their way out of here, cause I know I'm sure turned around."
Glad for the break, everyone dismounted.
Looking up at the sky, Vin spoke. "Reckon we'll need to look fer a place ta camp tonight if 'n we don't head back soon."
"I wouldn't want to try and ride out of here at night." Buck snorted.
Josiah glanced over at Buck. "It'd be dangerous, all right, we'd run the risk of falling into one of those ravines we passed. It gets mighty dark out here after the sun goes down."
Chris noticed the tracker staring at a butte in the distance. "Vin? You see something?"
"Look at that mesa over yonder, cowboy."
Buck frowned about Vin's use of a nickname for his best friend. Chris hated being called 'cowboy', considered it an insult, and had actually killed a man for it.
Chris looked in the direction Vin was indicating. "You think that might be where their hideout is?"
"Butte like that sometimes have caves in the base and tunnels that reach the top. The mesa's top is purty flat. A butte that size could hold a good size gang of men, if needs be, long as they had water and supplies."
The men mounted up and headed towards the formation. Vin kept a sharp outlook, but as they rode close to the butte, a shot rang out, taking Buck's hat off his head.
"Goddamned sonuvabitch," Buck yelled, pulling his horse behind a boulder. Another shot rang out as the four men dismounted and split up and taking cover among the rocks. They fired back a few rounds, but didn't want to waste bullets on men they couldn't see. Shots rang out again, missing their mark, but Josiah returned fire. Someone cried out in what they hoped was pain.
"Think I hit one of 'em," Josiah declared.
Shots echoed back at them and Chris was hit in his shoulder by a ricocheting bullet.
He flinched and rubbed his arm.
"You okay, Chris?" Buck shouted over the whine of the bullets.
"Yeah, it just a scratch." He assured Buck. "Vin, is there some way to get closer?"
"No! I'm worried this'll bring out the rest of the gang. If we don't git back we could git caught in a crossfire if 'n they come up behind us." Bullets were whizzing by like bees and shots were returned. "At least we know where they're hold up now," Vin continued.
Josiah said, "We best get a move on then. It's better to retreat and live to fight another day," he quoted.
Chris looked around. "There has to be a back way up there. What'd ya think, Vin?"
As the men started to retreat back the way they had came, Vin took a minute to check out the terrain. The bushwhackers kept firing at them.
"There's always a back way, ya jist hafta find it. But with them fellers havin' the high ground, we ain't got a chance right now."
"Let's get out of here, then," Chris ordered.
The men mounted up and made their way back the way they had came. The sound of shooting continued a bit, but finally died down.
Vin followed Chris and the others out of harm's way.
They made camp about a mile from the gang's hideout, where they had been fired upon. Josiah dug a small pit and built a small fire, surrounded by rocks. Buck made coffee while Josiah cleaned and bandaged Chris's shoulder. The men made themselves comfortable, wrapped a blanket around their shoulders and shared a supper of beef jerky and biscuits. Quietly, they made plans.
"We need to get the others and find a back way up that butte." Chris said. "Vin, think you could find it?"
Vin rubbed his chin, "I reckon, but the other's would hafta stay hid 'til we found it. We may hafta climb up the backside ta git to the top. Long as they got the high-ground, though, we ain't gonna be able ta git to 'em."
"How about we take some dynamite up there and blow 'em out?" Buck inquired.
"Too risky, Buck. If the dynamites not stable, it might be us that gets blown out. 'Besides, where we gonna git dynamite?" Josiah said.
"There's that mining operation out near Bitter Creek. Maybe they'll sell us a stick or two?" Buck guessed.
"I been thinkin'," Vin said. "Come sun up me 'n Chris could sneak back there, circle round 'em from the south side, and see what lies b'hind that butte. You fellas head on over ta Bitter Creek, git a few sticks and meet us back here tomorrow night. We'll know more then. Best git a few more supplies, too."
Chris nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Buck, you could send a telegram from Bitter Creek, and have the others meet you at the place where the trail crossed that sulfur spring. Me and Vin will rendezvous back here and meet with you sometime late tomorrow afternoon."
Buck spoke up, "Okay, we'll do that. The road is well marked since those jackasses didn't bother to hide their tracks. Me and Josiah can leave ya a canteen apiece with some Jerky and biscuits." Buck glanced at the preacher. "Josiah, you have a problem with that?"
"No brother, I can spare a canteen, but I haven't any biscuits left."
Chris nodded. "That should be enough. We'll make do." Larabee glanced over at the tracker. "Vin?"
"Yeah," Vin answered. "That'll be enough. Reckon I'll take first watch." He rose and moved off towards a rock outcropping.
M7 M7 M7
Meanwhile, back in Four Corners, the same afternoon the four men left town, Ezra had a poker game going in the saloon. Nathan and JD sat at a nearby table. Nathan was nursing a beer and JD was drinking a glass of milk, watching Ezra deal the cards. At the poker table, Ezra sat with a rancher named Cort Winters and two others. The two men looked to be trail hands from Guy Royal's spread. Cort was the owner of the Circle W ranch. He was a large man, known to be a heavy drinker with a quick temper. Right now he was fuming because, other than being a bad poker player, Cort was also a sore loser. And he was losing to Ezra, badly. After losing three straight hands, two of them to Standish, Cort, in a fit of temper, jumped up from the table and shouted,"You're a Goddamned cheat you fucking sonuvabitch! I'm taking my money back!"
Mr. Gunderson, who owned the saloon, came running over to the table and asked "What's the problem here, gentleman?"
"This man is a cheater and a card shark and I demand my money back!"
Gunderson, being a cautious man realized his customer was drunk. Deciding to use diplomacy instead of force, he said, "Mr. Winters, why don't you have a drink on the house and call it a night?"
"I said I want my Goddamned money back," he roared.
The saloon owner smirked at the rancher. "That's not gonna happen. Now enjoy a drink on the house or get the hell out of here!"
Winters shoved the saloon owner aside and reached for his gun. Before it cleared leather, Ezra snapped his hidden derringer from his sleeve and pointed it at the rancher, along with Nathan and JD.
Gunderson quickly regained his footing, grabbed Cort Winters by the scruff of the neck and his belt and threw the rancher out through the batwing doors, yelling, "There'll be no gunplay in here. Get out and stay out!"
Mr. Winters picked himself up out of the dirt, mounted his horse and screamed, "You'll be sorry you did that to me. Do you know who I am? You won't get away with this," as he rode out of town.
Gunderson, still fuming, headed back to the table where Ezra sat. He noticed JD and Nathan were putting their guns away, both men willing to back their partner's play.
"Were you cheating?" Gunderson yelled at Ezra.
"I didn't have to cheat," he said and looked calmly at the saloon owner. "The man played badly and recklessly. A bad combination when you're an amateur." Ezra smiled and tucked his derringer back into its rig.
Three hours later, a shout came from outside. "Gunderson, Gunderson, come out here you fucking sonuvabitch! I'm gonna kill you!"
But before anyone inside the saloon could react, shots rang out, shattering the saloon's windows.
"Everyone down," Ezra shouted, as he grabbed his gun and dove for the floor along with everyone else.
The shouts and shots of the attack were deafening. The men in the saloon sought out cover and returned fire.
Winters had ridden to his ranch, gathered up some cowhands and came back to town for revenge for the humiliation he'd suffered at Gunderson's hands.
The ranch owner rode his horse through the batwing doors and fired randomly, mostly at the ceiling. Seeing Ezra on the floor, he brought his horse closer, saying, "I'll kill you, you fucking four- flusher," and pointed his gun at the gambler.
Suddenly, Winters jerked backwards, his body falling heavily to the floor. The frightened horse whinnied and reared his hooves a few feet off the ground in the crowded saloon. Without the weight on his back, the panicked horse kept backing up. When he hit the bat-wing doors, he reared again and whinnied louder.
Ezra looked up to see his partners, Nathan and JD, crouched nearby, their guns
smoking.
The gunfire died down and JD put his guns away and slowly rose and started towards the horse. speaking softly to settle it down. "Whoa, whoa, shhh," he murmured quietly.
Nathan threw his coat over the horse's head and JD was able to get a hold of the reins. "Shhh, whoa there boy, it's okay, you're okay." He kept the litany up, until he was able to get the horse calmed and back through the saloon doors.
Gunderson looked over the chaos. Several men lay dead or wounded on the floor and in the street. The saloon owner cursed in German and added, "What a miserable situation this has turned out to be. Someone clean this mess up." Snorting, he headed for his office.
Nathan started to treat the few men that were wounded while Ezra dispatched someone for the undertaker, saying, "His services seem to be in greater demand lately." And shaking his head, he added, "Mr. Larabee is not going to be overjoyed when he hears of this catastrophe!"
TWO
The following morning, the men split up, two going east, towards the mining town of Bitter Creek and two headed back to the sulfur- smelling creek they'd crossed the day before. Before they parted, Chris reminded the others that he and Vin would meet up with them sometime in the late afternoon.
"What if you ain't here?" Buck asked.
"Wait until morning. If we're still not here, go on back to town. Just don't try to storm that butte by yourselves. Watch for the next time the stage leaves town and lay a trap of some kind," Chris stated. He and Vin mounted and said their goodbyes to the others.
Once the two men reached the sulfur creek, Chris and Vin stopped and dismounted. Each took a drink of water and watered their horses while they talked.
"Where to from here?" Larabee asked Vin.
"Ain't rightly sure." Vin rubbed his chin and looked around. "But I'm thinkin' on it," he replied.
Chris grinned. "If I get myself killed before you make up your mind, I'm gonna be all mighty pissed at you."
Vin grinned back. "I expect so, cowboy." He glanced at the surrounding area. "Why don't we follow this creek a ways. Maybe we can spot that butte and turn in t'wards it. Come up to it from the other side."
Mounting up, they followed the stream for a mile or so. The sides gradually became steeper and the smell of rotten eggs became stronger. As they rode on, the cleft became narrower and the stench became worse, along with the roar of falling water, ahead. Soon, they came upon a pool of yellowish water, the color from the sulfur. A small waterfall plunged down a hill on the other side of the pool causing what appeared to be the beginning of a set of rapids. The noise was deafening.
"Where do you thinks this comes out, Vin?" Chris shouted.
"There's a river two days ride from here. I reckon by the time it gits that far, the sulfur has probably settled in the creek bed and the smell ain't so bad," his partner answered.
"Let's walk our horses around this ledge and get out of here," Larabee suggested.
The men dismounted and walked their horses around the pool where they found a narrow ledge. The smell was worse than ever, since there was no breeze. The noise from the waterfall and rapids was deafening, so Larabee was surprised when Vin stopped. Along the ledge the trail formed a "Y" with one leg headed straight and the other path veered off to the left. The path was narrow, but when Tanner inspected it closer he could see the landmark they were looking for, off in the distance. Because the noise from the falls was so loud, Vin had to get close enough to speak in Larabee's ear, as he pointed out the Butte.
Larabee felt the warmth in his ear as Vin pointed out the monolith in the distance and said, "Look there." Chris was surprised at his own reaction. He half expected Vin's tongue to dart out and lick his inner ear. Larabee felt such a surge of heat rush through his loins, he gasped and took a backward step away from his partner. Chris nodded his head, his eyes never leaving the tracker's eyes. Larabee knew he had feelings for the tracker, but this reaction had been a little unexpected.
If Vin knew the gunslinger's reaction, he didn't show any sign. He turned left into the "Y" and cautiously made his way toward the monolith.
The going was rough, as the narrow path they were on was not one commonly used. The men continued to walk the horses over the rocky terrain, slowly making their way to their destination. As they neared the Butte, both men heard shots coming from the distance. They pulled their guns, ducked behind a boulder and looked around making sure the bullets weren't meant for them.
Chris said, "What do you think?"
"I ain't sure, cowboy. I'm wonderin' who's shootin' and who they're shootin' at," Vin answered.
M7 M7 M7
John Cross and Emmett Banks made their way towards the outlaw camp, high above the desert floor. At the agreed upon meeting place, Emmett pulled his gun and fired 3 shots into the air. Charley Hitchens came out from around the rocks he was hiding behind and confronted the two men. "What's going on in town? And who was it that found our hideout? It's just luck I had posted guards. The lookouts shot at 'em and chased 'em off. Damn varmints!" Charley spat a load of tobacco to the ground. "If either of you shot yer mouths off, I'm gonna shoot ya dicks off and leave ya where ya fall," he groused.
John sighed, "I done told ya we got seven peacekeepers in town now. That Judge hired 'em to keep law and order and they's taking the job way too seriously. My Ma asked 'em to look into the stagecoach robberies and I reckon they are."
Charley spat another load of tobacco out. "Well hell Cross, maybe they need a lesson in mindin' their own business. Set up an accident of some kind. What 'bout you Emmett? Both of you need to come up with some kinda plan ta get rid of those hombres. How tough can it be? If me and the boys hafta take care of it, both of you are gonna regret it. I want this problem solved." Hitchens spat out tobacco again.
"Those seven are gunslingers and Chris Larabee is their leader." John started, but from the look on Hitchen's face, he said, "But we'll find a way, don't you worry 'bout that Mr. Hitchens."
"Larabee, huh, hell, I'd love ta take him out. Prove I'm faster 'n him. Since you're here might as well come up top and have a drink. Then you best be on yer way."
"A drink sounds mighty invitin', Charley." Emmett grinned.
Banks, Cross and Hitchens entered the hideout through a cave-like entrance and followed a tunnel leading upward on a steep path. The path opened up to the outside at one point, then turned and immediately entered back into the dark recess of the cave. A few minutes later, the outlaws came to the top of the natural structure. The sunshine beamed down on them, the heat unbearable. The men walked the horses over to a shady lean-to that served as a corral. After taking care of their horses, Emmett and John headed for the tent that served as a saloon, sat and poured themselves a drink of whiskey.
As Emmett sat down, he winced as the bullet graze pulled. Rubbing his side, Charley asked him. "What's wrong?"
"My side where the bullet grazed me is bothering me some," he replied.
Hitchens laughed. "You're lucky I only winged ya, I coulda put it between yer eyes."
John cross spoke up, "We only got time for one drink. We can't take a chance on getting caught out here at night. Going back is hard enough without taking a chance on falling into a ravine."
Charley poured himself another drink from the bottle. "If it starts getting late you'll have ta stay here for the night, so I think it's better you git an early start on outta here.
The men continued to sit and drink and discuss upcoming plans.
M7 M7 M7
Chris and Vin continued walking their horses on the narrow path. The trail was not a used one, so the going was slow and rough. The ledge they were following offered them shade from the overhanging rocks above, but the heat was brutal. Chris followed Vin along the ledge, admiring the view of Tanner's backside he was privy to.
Vin knew Larabee was watching him. He'd noticed the man in black's reaction when he'd spoken into his ear. He'd been tempted to stick his tongue into the shell, but he wasn't sure of his reception. Vin grinned, shook his head and continued up the path they were on, alert for the guards he knew would be posted.
The sun was slowly headed west when they came upon a wider section of the ledge. Vin and Chris stopped, gave their horses a drink and loosened their cinches. Afterwards both men slid to the ground, the cliff at their backs and they splashed water on their heads and faces to cool down.
Vin looked at the sky once more. "One of us needs ta go back and meet the boys. It'll be gittin' dark in a few more hours."
Larabee pursed his lips and scratched his whiskered jaw and said, "I think you're right. You want to flip a coin, pard?"
"I been thinkin' on this fer a spell. Why don't you head on back and meet up with the others? I'll stay here and hole up for the night. You can bring 'em back in the mornin'."
"It sounds like a good plan, but I hate to leave you by yourself. Anything can happen."
"I know cowboy, but someone's gotta meet the boys and we're almost to the top. I'll be careful."
"Okay Vin, but if you get yourself killed, I'll meet you in hell so I can shoot you again. You watch your back, hear me!" Larabee rose and started towards Pony.
Vin grinned and stood up. "Yes pa, I hear ya."
His partner whirled around and grabbed him by the arm. "I don't want to be your pa, Vin," Larabee said and pulled him into a hug. Stepping back he said, "I'll leave ya one of these canteens."
Vin, caught off guard, raised his hand to pat his friend on the back. As soon as Larabee stepped away, Vin also backed up.
"Chris," Tanner muttered, "what'd you mean?"
Handing the canteen to the tracker, Larabee reached out and rubbed his hand up and down Vin's arm. "I think you already know what I meant, but if you don't." Chris leaned forward and kissed the stunned man.
"Chris," Vin whispered.
"Tell me you don't want it too and I'll back off," The gunslinger said as he turned to tighten the cinch on Pony.
Vin had trouble finding his voice. "I.. I.. reckon you already know I do, or ya wouldn't done that." Vin ran his finger tip over his mouth, still feeling the light pressure of Chris's lips on his.
"You stay out of sight, me and the boys'll be back in the mornin'" Taking Pony's reins he started to lead the horse down the mountain path. Vin stood and watched his partner until he was out of sight.
M7 M7 M7
John Cross wanted to leave the outlaw camp as soon as he could, but Emmett was playing cards with some of the others and not ready to depart. Hitchens walked into the makeshift saloon, spotted Cross and raised an eyebrow. John nodded across the table at his partner. Banks and Hitchens frowned at each other. "Why you still here?" Charley growled at Emmett.
"Oh, sorry boss, we got ta playin' cards and time got away from us," Banks said. Looking up at Cross, he continued, "Why ain't you said anything 'bout it bein' time ta go?"
John decided he wasn't taking the blame and said, "I tried ta tell ya it was gittin' late." He sighed, from the look Emmett gave him it looked like Banks would likely plough into him later. Banks was a mean sonuvabitch and Cross was afraid of him, but he feared Charley more.
"Well, I reckon you two can put up here tonight. Cross, your Mama gonna come lookin' fer ya?" Charley snickered along with the rest of the gang.
John's hands fisted, but he made no hostile move. "Ma's got her hands full running the stage line. She ain't got time ta run after me. I'm my own man," he bragged.
Charley chuckled again and said, "Well, we'll see. We're hittin' her again soon. Real soon. I heard tell she's gonna ride shotgun, but from inside the stage. Your Mama a good shot?" he laughed again.
Emmett spoke up, "As a matter a fact, she is. Her man taught her ta shoot when they come west. Said it was fer her own protection."
John squirmed inside himself. Charley wouldn't think twice 'bout killing a woman. He needed to get home and warn her, but there was no way to leave this hideout, not this late, anyway.
M7 M7 M7
Vin shared another drink of water with Peso. "Got your fill, Mule?" he murmured to the cantankerous horse. He loosely ground tied the animal and settled in to spend the night. It wasn't dark yet and Vin wasn't used to stopping so early. Restless, he looked around and decided to see if he could get closer to the outlaw camp and find out what was going on. He quietly crept up the narrow ledge, hugging the cliff wall. As he reached the summit, he pushed his hat off and covertly glanced over the top. From the smell, he could tell he was behind some sort of make-shift corral and as he peeked over the top, he could see where several horses were tied to a rope. Quietly he crawled over onto the mesa and silently huddled on the ground. Looking around, he crept to the corner of the corral and checked for guards. Seeing none, he made his way forward to see if he could discover how many outlaws they would be up against.
Vin made his way stealthily towards one of the tents and peeked inside. It was a saloon of sorts and Vin saw the son of Rebecca Cross at a bar. Shaking his head in disgust, he heard a footfall behind him. Swinging around, he was able to block some of the blow before the board crashed into the side of his head and shoulders. Everything went black as Vin hit the ground.
THREE
Vin woke with a massive headache. A man with bad breath and green teeth was bending over him. "So, ya decided ta join us agin, huh? Harry, go git the boss, he'll wanna deal wit this one hisself."
Vin groaned, tried to rise, but his arms were tied to something. He glanced around as pain raced through his head. He found he was tied to the make-shift corral. Green-teeth kicked him in the side and snickered. "The boss'll teach ya ta come creeping round these parts." Vin wondered how long he'd been out and what punishment he was in for. 'Chris', he thought, 'Chris was going to kick his ass good for letting himself be caught like this.' It was dark, now, but the full moon was bright and cast its light over the mesa.
Hitchens hurried over to where the tracker sat tied. "Who are you?" Hitchens demanded. Vin looked up at him but said nothing.
John Cross had followed Hitchens. "He's part of the seven men that the Judge hired to keep the peace, Mr. Hitchens. I told ya that Larabee is their leader. This one's name's Tanner. He's the breed I told you about."
"That true? You a breed?" Hitchens demanded again. "Why would Larabee ride with a Goddamned breed? You fellas takin' a cut from the store owners? Yeah, I'll bet that's it. Well, say somethin' breed."
Vin looked up at the man contemptuously and spat.
"Git that breed on his feet, I'll make him talk or fix it so he can't. Cross, git over here and hold him." Cross and green-teeth jerked Vin to his feet, "Gonna answer me now?" Hitchens growled.
John really wanted nothing to do with this. He knew Tanner and Larabee were close and the last thing he wanted was to face the man in black. Hitchens terrified Cross, but when the man in black turned his glare in your direction, well that was even more terrifying and John had no interest in seeing that look turned his way.
"Uh, Mr. Hitchens, sir, why don't you have Emmett hold Tanner. I don't think I can."
Vin looked surprised at the stage mistress's son. He was about JD's age and Vin wondered how this youngster had gotten mixed up with this bunch.
Hitchens turned on the scared young man. "You'll either hold him or I'll kill ya where ya stand and feed yer body to the varmints. Got me?"
"Y..y..yes sir." John tightened his hold on Vin.
"Okay, now fer some fun. Answer me breed, where are the others? I know yer gang ain't far behind ya."
Vin looked at him and said nothing. The first blow to his stomach came out of nowhere and Vin started to double over. Green- teeth had a firm hold on him, but John's heart was not in this and let him fall.
"Git 'em back on his feet and ya damn well better hold him." Before Vin was upright, the next blow hit him in the chest, which sucked the air from his body. Still gasping for air but knowing what was coming, Vin pulled away from the punch. It hit him just below the eye and blood gushed from his nose. Vin kicked his foot out, catching Charley on the shin. An enraged Hitchens cursed and sent the final blow. Vin jerked his head back but felt the fist hit his mouth. Tasting blood, the blackness Tanner was trying to fight off engulfed him and he fell to the ground out cold.
Vin woke, with someone shaking his shoulder. He moaned and felt a hand clamp across his mouth. "Shhh," he heard as pain ripped through his head. Opening his eyes, he glanced into the frightened eyes of John Cross, untying his hands.
"Mr. Tanner, we hafta be real quiet. If we wake the others they'll kill us," John whispered. Vin nodded at his rescuer and in no time the tracker was free. John handed Vin his mare's leg, but he still couldn't seem to move. "Come on, I'll help ya up. We gotta git goin'," John whispered.
Once on his feet, Vin gave himself a minute to get rid of the wooly feeling and clear his head. The pain he felt was torturous, but nothing he hadn't experienced in the past. He gave John a little nod and they started toward the cliff ledge.
Cross had waited for the others to fall asleep. Even the sentries had succumbed to the night's bouts of drinking. Quietly, he'd made his way to where Vin lay and tried to revive the peacekeeper. When he heard the man groan, he clamped his hand over his mouth and looked around to be sure none of the guards had been alerted. Once Vin was free, John helped him up, but Tanner's legs were stiff and it took a minute for some feeling to come back into his limbs.
As the two men headed slowly for the cliff, Vin whispered, "My horse is close by..."
"No. After Charley knocked you out, he sent one of the boys to check and see if any of your friends were close by. He found your horse and tried ta bring him back to camp, but the horse bucked, tried ta bite him and ran off."
Yeah, Vin thought, that sounded like Peso.
Slowly, mostly by feel, they made their way down the steep ledge, clinging to the cliff face. The narrow ledge they were on gave some support, but the going was very slow and hazardous. Vin, having swallowed some blood earlier, had to stop and puke a few times along the way. Thankfully, the moon gave off enough light that they were not in total darkness. As they moved past the place Vin had Peso ground tied, he sent a small prayer to the Spirits that the sure- footed animal, in his panic, hadn't gone off the cliff.
Vin had to stop a few times to rest, and get his bearings. He thought his eye might be swollen shut and his headache and sore nose bothered him. Not only could he taste the blood in his mouth, the coppery smell lingered to make him sick all over again. Why didn't this kid think ta bring water with him, Vin wondered. Several hours later, as the false dawn was starting in the east, Vin finally smelled the foul odor of sulfur in the air and heard the roar of the river.
"That's Devils Creek," John said. "We're close to the bottom. I hate this country. I wish Ma would sell that stage line and we could move back East," he complained.
Once they reached Devils Creek, Vin sank to the ground and splashed the cool, smelly water on his face and rinsed his mouth. The water stung, but nothing had ever tasted so sweet to him as that foul water.
John sank down next to Tanner." That sulfur will probably help your face where Charley hit ya. Say, I'm real sorry 'bout that. I didn't want ta hold ya for him, but he's a mean sonuvabitch and he would' a killed me if I refused. You won't tell Larabee, will ya?"
Vin started to grin, but the pain in his mouth was too much, so he gave his head a little shake and splashed more water on his face and mouth and spat. "How'd you get mixed up with that bunch, anyway?" Vin asked, raising his voice so he could be heard above the noise.
"I don't know." John answered. "I told you I hate it here and it seemed like a good way to get back at Ma for not selling out. I mean, the damn town's dying and Mr. Royal offered ta buy her out at a fair price, but she refused. She's got some kinda notion that he had Pa killed and she says selling ta him is selling to the enemy."
Vin looked up at him. "Does she know you feel this way?"
"She should, I've told her enough times. I want to go to University back East, learn to be a lawyer or a doctor. We need a doctor out here. I know Nathan does his best, but hell, he ain't no real doctor. Hey, you're still bleeding," John continued. "So, I figured, if the stage gets robbed enough times, she'll give it up, but she's stubborn."
Vin looked at him, aghast. "You betrayed your Ma?"
Sheepishly John looked away then back at Vin. "I'd just let Charley or Emmett know when something important or a shipment of some kind was being freighted. No one ever got hurt until now. They're planning on hitting Ma again, but this time she's gonna be riding inside the stage with her shotgun. I got ta warn her, Charley wouldn't think nothing of killing a woman.
Even with the roar of the falls, the rapids and the strong sulfur smell of the water, leaving that canyon was the last thing Vin wanted to do. All he wanted at that minute was to sink down on the rocks and rest, but that wasn't possible. They had to find the others and warn them of the coming holdup.
"We best git goin'," Vin slurred and started across the river. It was about knee deep and the men forded it quite easily. Once on the other side, Cross took the lead, starting back towards town. Vin kept an outlook for Hitchens' gang, believing their escape had been too easy. Easy was good, but surely their absence had been detected by now and a search party organized.
The shot banked off the steep bluff and echoed around the surrounding walls. John fell away from the river into a ravine covered with weeds and grass. Vin ducked behind a large rock as another whine from a bullet echoed off the walls of the canyon, just missing him.
"John. John, you hit?" Vin shouted. With his mares leg in hand, Vin searched upward along the canyon wall, trying to see where their attackers were located.
"Yeah, oh God, it hurts," Cross whined.
"Stay down," Vin said, moving to another boulder, still looking for the gang members. Another gunshot rang out and pinged just above his head, sending rock pieces flying. A few hit his face. He touched his cheek and looked at his bloody fingers. Vin sighed; his face already hurt, he figured one more nick didn't matter.
Tanner spied one of the gunman, took careful aim and pulled the trigger. A scream from up-high let him know he'd hit his mark. Several shots rang down on him but missed. He saw someone look over the precipice, brought the gun up and fired. The man fell from the cliff, screaming as he dropped.
He heard a few more gunshots, saw another man fall and knew the cavalry had arrived.
M7 M7 M7
Chris made is way back to where he was to meet up with his friends. They made a cold camp, spent the night and were ready to move by first light. Larabee didn't know why, but he had a feeling that Vin was in trouble and knew they had to hurry. The six men made their way as quickly as possible to where they were to meet up with Vin. Before they reached the canyon, however, they came upon Peso, munching on a grassy mound.
JD approached the horse, with soothing sounds. The horses saddle was askew and the reins dragged the ground. "Hey there, fella, where's Vin?" Peso was sweaty and dirty but otherwise all right. Happy to see his corral-mates, he whinnied and let JD pet his neck and nose. JD took Peso's reins and the six continued on.
As they followed the creek, the men heard gunshots in the distance. Urging their horses into a gallop, the six men came upon the outlaws firing down at someone on the floor of the arroyo. Following the ravine, staying out of sight, Chris's intuition told him it was Vin they were firing at.
The men stayed hidden but took up the fight between the outlaws and their tracker. Chris sidled up next to Vin, he took one look at the his friend and felt his temper begin to rise.
"You fellas out fer a Sunday stroll?" Vin asked. "Took ya long enough, I figured I'd hafta take down these assholes by myself."
"Okay, give it to me straight," Chris fumed. "Who'd ya piss off while I was gone? You just couldn't wait for me, could you?"
Vin had turned over and laid his head against the hill he'd been shooting from and closed his eyes. "You mean this," and pointed to his nose, "I ran into a fist. Look around ya, cowboy there's lots of 'em out there."
Larabee snorted. "Nathan!" he yelled.
"I reckon Nathan's looking at young John. He's been shot, don't know how bad, though. I've been kinda busy." Soon, however, the shots died down leaving an eerie silence.
Buck came up to where Chris and Vin were talking. "I think we scared them off. Is that John Cross Nathan's tending to? How'd he get out here and how in the hell did he get shot?"
"Vin opened is eyes. "It's a long story Buck. Here comes Nathan."
Nathan approached the three men, stopped and frowned at Vin, shook his head and stepped closer. "What happened to you?" He growled. He reached out and lightly felt Vin's nose. "Well, it ain't broken, at least. Let me take a look at it."
Buck chimed in, "Damn that's gotta hurt, Vin," and handing him a handkerchief, finished, "here, you're still bleeding."
"We ain't got time, Nathan." Vin looked over at Cross. "How's he doin'? Can he ride? We gotta get back ta town. Hitchen's gang is planning on robbin' the stage again and his Ma is goin' ta be ridin' shotgun."
Shocked, Buck called out, "What? A woman riding shotgun? I ain't never heard of such a thing."
"She's gonna be inside the coach, not on top, Buck. But these fellas would kill a woman, man or a kid and not bat an eye. We gotta stop 'em."
Chris looked at him. "You okay to ride?"
"Peso's gone, I hafta find 'em. But ya, I can ride. You fellas go on, I'll catch up with ya."
"We already found Peso. He was grazing about a mile that way," JD pointed out. "He looks okay to ride."
Ezra asked, "Is this miscreant our prisoner?
Nathan nodded. "He was shot in the shoulder, but he should make it back to town okay. The bullet is still in there, but I can't take it out until I get him back to the clinic. I've wrapped his arm to his chest to keep it from moving around too much."
"Well," Chris piped up, "let's get back then, we're burning daylight."
FOUR
The men headed back to town by way of Devil's Creek. As they rode away from Devil's Creek, the desert and the lowlands converged, making way for plants and scrub and finally trees and grass. Two hours later they could see the outline of the town they protected.
Riding in, Josiah and Nathan led John to the clinic. JD took the horses to the livery while Ezra headed for the jail.
Rebecca, John's mother, ran out of the freight office towards her son. "John, John," she yelled.
John stopped and turned to face her with a regretful frown and said, "I'm sorry, Ma." He turned back and continued towards the clinic.
Chris, Vin, and Buck walked up to her. "We've got to talk to you, Mrs. Cross," Chris stated. "We'd best talk at the freight office." He took her by the elbow and escorted her back to her office. He told the others, "We'll meet back at the jail to make our plans."
Looking back towards John, she briefly hesitated, but she gave in to Larabee's tug on her arm.
Vin went to join Ezra at the jail, while Buck and Chris stepped into the freight office. Larabee started, "What kind of freight is going out today on that stage?"
She stared at Buck and Chris, "That's none of your business" she said defiantly. "Now if you don't mind, I want to go to the clinic and check on my son."
"Not so fast, Mrs. Cross. We're the law in town and we need to know what's on that stage. It has to be valuable if you're going to be on it," Chris asserted.
"How did you know that?" she demanded.
"Your son has been giving information to Hitchens and his gang. That's how they know when to hit the stage," Buck informed her.
"How dare you!" she shouted. "I know John would never do that. You bastards! How could you say such a thing as that? Get out of here, now!"
"Because it's true, Mrs. Cross. Now we're beholden to him for helping Vin escape, but that don't excuse him from breaking the law. He's been a bad boy." Larabee sneered.
Rebecca sat down in her chair. Not wanting to believe this gossip about her only child, but able to see the truth of it, she sighed, "Gold."
Surprised, Buck sank down on the office's other chair. "Gold? That can't be! There'd be guards. Someone would be riding with it."
"It's the Army's payroll. They figured if they shipped it without guards no one would know it was on the stage and it'd be safe." She sighed again. "If this gold is taken, I'm out of business. Everything I have worked for is wrapped up in this office. I've been trying to get enough money together to send John to college, but if this office closes, then that's gone too. I'll be destitute." Rebecca was barely able to stifle a sob.
Larabee set his jaw, bit his bottom lip and nodded. "Okay, when will the stage be here?"
"Today, it's coming in a day early and leaving within the hour. I don't know if John knew that or not."
Chris used the tone that meant business, "I want you to forget about being on that stage. Me and the boys will take care of this. And Mrs. Cross, do not say anything to John. I don't know if he has a accomplice in town, but we know Emmett is a part of the gang."
"What?" She said, shocked. "No, I can't believe this, he's going to be driving the stage when it leaves. He returned to town an hour ago. He said he felt okay to drive it," she whispered.
Just then a shot rang out. Buck and Chris ran out into the street to find Josiah leaning over the railing of Nathan's clinic, his gun smoking. Emmett Banks lay at the bottom of the steps.
"What happened?" Larabee called.
"This poor soul felt the Lord calling his name, so he decided to end his life here on earth by trying to kill the young man Nathan's treating. I hated to help him along, but I had no choice."
Ezra turned and headed back towards the jail, muttering to himself. "And they think I'm long-winded."
M7 M7 M7
Two hours later the stage left town, headed for Eagle Bend, with Josiah driving. Ezra and JD were riding as passengers, while Chris, Vin, Nathan and Buck followed a half mile behind. They kept far enough back so they wouldn't be detected by Charley Hitchens or his gang. John Cross was tucked neatly into the jail, being watch by the town's new resident, ex-Confederate renegade, Francis Corcoran.
The coach traveled along at a comfortable pace, weaving its way towards Eagle Bend. The Army fort was a few miles north of Eagle Bend, set on a hill over-looking a river valley. At the crossroads, Josiah saw a group of riders blocking his path. He counted about nine riders and he hoped fervently that was all of the outlaws. He said a little prayer that some weren't hidin off in the woods.
"Giddiup there, hiya, hiya!" Josiah called to the horses coaxing more speed from them.
Hitchens fired a warning shot into the air, "Stop the coach," he yelled, "Stop!" he shouted, again.
Inside the coach, Ezra said, "Well, here we go, Mr. Dunne. Are you prepared?"
"Oh, I'm ready, all right." JD stated with boyish enthusiasm. "This is the reason I came west."
The stage went flying between the gang members and continued on down the road. The gang took off after the coach, shooting as they rode after it.
Chris, Vin, Nathan and Buck heard the shots and kicked their horses into action. Racing along the road, they caught up with Hitchens and his men, who was closing in on the stage.
Traveling at break-neck speeds, the coach was bouncing along the road, but Josiah seemed to have everything under control. Ezra and JD were leaning out of windows firing at the men chasing them. One of the outlaws jumped onto the stage, but he lost his balance and fell under the wheels.
By this time, Hitchens was close to the stage, but so were the men trailing them. He'd already lost several men to the peacekeepr's bullets and knew if he didn't leave this fight soon, he'd probably be captured or worse. He had no intentions of going to jail or hanging, so he decide to cut and run. Except, there were a few men who would testify against him if they were caught and put on trial.
Charley, turned in his saddle and shot the man next to him. The man fell from his horse. Hitchens took aim and fired again and killed another one of his gang.
Larabee couldn't believe the leader was shooting his own men. Although Chris had threatened to shoot one or two of the Seven men he'd ridden with the last few weeks, he certainly hadn't meant it. Shaking his head a bit, he took off after the man as he headed off into the woods.
Charley thought he'd left everyone behind him and now was his chance to slip away.
He'd turned his horse toward the woods, leaving the main trail behind. 'I'm free' he thought, until he heard a horse coming up behind him. Turning in his saddle, he saw Larabee was close by. He hadn't had time to reload and knew he had only one bullet left, so Charley figured he'd fight it out with the gunslinger. Taking out the famous Chris Larabee would seal his fate as a man to be reckoned with. Slowing his horse, he felt someone grabbing his reins.
Hitchens and Larabee dismounted before either horse had stopped completely, and the two men stared at each other. Within seconds they drew their guns and fired. Chris felt a tug on his upper sleeve, and Charley took two steps back and fell to the ground.
Chris squatted down by Charley, who muttered, "I..I..thou...thought I's faster 'n you."
"Yeah, well, I guess you thought wrong," Chris answered as Charley died.
Chris was closing the man's eyes as Vin rode up. "You okay, cowboy?" Vin ask him.
"I'm fine. You?" Chris answered.
"Yep, nothing that a good long soak in a hot tub of water won't fix." Vin grinned.
Josiah could see the outlaws were no longer chasing him, so he started easing up on the reins and slowing the coach. Within a few miles he had the horses slowed enough so he could safely turn the stage and head back to where the boys were. As he approached the place where the others were checking the wounded and rounding up the strays, he reined in the horses and climbed down from the seat. "You can put the dead inside the boot and the wounded inside the stage," he directed. "Is everyone all right?" he continued.
Nathan, who'd been treating the wounded, said, "Yeah, we're all okay." Nathan then stood and looked at Josiah. "I couldn't believe it when Hitchens started killing his own men. Did you ever see anyhin' like that?"
"Reckon he didn't want to leave any witnesses," Josiah answered.
At that time, Vin and Chris pulled a body out of the woods by his legs. "He won't be shooting anyone else," Larabee stated.
The man Vin had named green-teeth was leaning against a tree. He glanced up and looked around him, just as the two peacekeepers dropped the legs of the dead Hitchens. Seeing Charley being drug out of the woods, his arms flung out behind him, he muttered, "Fuckin' asshole, he shot me! Is he dead? Gimme a gun, I'm gonna plug him agin."
Vin eyed the man and shook his head. He put his finger on his mouth where it had been cut by Hitchens' fist and walked on by the nasty little man.
M7 M7 M7
After the cleanup was finished, everyone headed back to town. Nathan had taken care of the wounded, the undertaker took care of the dead and Larabee wrote out a short report for the Judge.
Josiah delivered the stage to Mrs. Cross and told her, "The stage loaded with the gold can be on its way. The regular driver should be rested by now, so anytime he's ready, he can head for Eagle Bend. It should be safe enough." Josiah smiled.
Rebecca smiled back. "It was a good plan, Mr Sanchez. Sending that decoy coach out to lure those outlaws into the open. I hope that bunch is done for. Well, I mean gone from the territory. I wouldn't want to wish ill on anyone." Pausing, she sighed and continued, "What do you think will happen to John, Mr. Sanchez?"
"I'm not sure, Mrs. Cross. He was part of the gang and he did participate in some of the robberies. Maybe the Judge will go easy on him, but he'll have to spend some time behind bars. I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault. I just wish I knew where I went wrong. I knew he hated it here, but I didn't know he hated me, too."
Rebecca felt the tears cloud her eyes as a few escaped down her cheeks. Taking her apron, she dabbed at the offending teardrops. "I'm sorry," she muttered to Josiah, then she turned and retreated to her desk.
Josiah said to her back "I'm sure he doesn't hate you, Mrs. Cross, he's just a foolish young man that fell in with the wrong crowd. Maybe this will be a learning experience for him."
At her desk, Rebecca turned, looked up and smiled at Josiah, "Thank you," she said. "I'm going to try and get him a lawyer. I'll use the money I was saving for him to go to college. He did help you, that should count for something."
Josiah smiled back at her. "Yes ma'am. I'm sure the Judge will consider everything. Good day to you." And with that Josiah left her office.
M7 M7 M7
After the Seven men had supper at the boardinghouse they headed for the saloon for drinks and to discuss the day's events.
After Ezra explained the trouble with the rancher, Cort Winters, Chris shrugged. "Just be careful who you gamble with Ezra. We're the law here now," he said as he looked around at the others, "but if someone comes bustin' into the saloon, shooting off their guns and hurting people, well, we have to take matters into our own hands to keep the peace. Vin and I'll ride out to the Circle W tomorrow and talk to whoever's at the house."
Buck spoke up, "I sorta feel sorry for that Miz Cross. She's all alone now."
Nathan shook his head. "Have you no shame Buck? The poor lady has her hands full, she's lost her husband and now she'll be losing her boy."
"Hey!" Buck snorted, "She'll need a lot of comfortin' and old Buck's just got comfortin' coming out of his whole body."
Chris smirked. "He's got something coming out, we just ain't entirely sure what it is."
Everyone at the table chuckled.
Chris continued, "I wired the Judge, but he
won't be here for another week. So, we'll have to keep someone at the jail at all times." He looked around the table, but everyone was nodding their heads in agreement. Chris gave a Vin a surreptitious nod and announced, "Well, I think I'll hit the sack. See ya in the morning." He rose and left the saloon.
Next, Buck rose and started towards one of the few saloon girls. JD volunteered first watch at the jail, Ezra got a game started, Vin said his good-nights and one by one each went his separate way for the night.
M7 M7 M7
Vin tread lightly up the back steps of the boardinghouse. Chris's room was the last one at this end of the hall, and his window overlooked the main street as well. He crept to Larabee's door and turned the handle. Finding it unlocked he slipped quietly into the room, turned and faced Chris's gun, pointed at his forehead, cocked and ready to fire. Vin grinned. "Hey cowboy."
Larabee lowered the gun. "Don't you know that's a good way to get yourself killed?" he growled. "And how in the hell could I explain you creeping around my room this late?"
"Aw hell, cowboy, I reckoned you was expectin' me," Vin drawled.
Chris smiled. "Well, I was hoping you'd come by, but I wasn't sure if you would." Larabee wrapped his free hand around Tanner's neck, pulled him closer and lightly kissed the side of his swollen nose. Stepping back, he ran his thumb over Vin's mouth, touching the split lip. "That's gotta hurt," Larabee whispered.
"It does, but you're makin' it feel better," Vin murmured.
"I'd like to kill the sonuvabitch that hit you," Chris said as he led Vin over to the bed.
"Ya did," the tracker stated.
"Well, all right then," Chris chuckled. He pulled Vin in close and kissed him again.
Vin slipped his arms around the lean waist of the man in black, and he returned the ardent kiss with an eagerness he hadn't known he possessed. They stood there locked in each other's arms, until a need to breathe caused the two men to pull away from each other.
Chris sighed, "I want to spend the night with you, Vin.
Vin glanced away for a few seconds in thought, then he grinned. "Yeah, I figured that, cowboy." After a few more kisses, Vin asked, "Ah, ya ever done this b'fore?"
"Yeah, a time or two. A man has needs, pard." Larabee felt Vin pull away from him and quickly amended his statement. "That ain't what this is about, Vin. I don't want this ta be a one-time thing. I don't understand it, but I want to walk a path with you. See where it goes, explore the possibilities of it."
"Mighty poetic fer a gunslinger." Vin grinned.
Larabee chuckled, "Yeah, well just don't ask me where it come from, cause I have no idea."
Undressing down to their union suits, they crawled into bed and faced each other. To Larabee's surprise, Vin cuddled up to him and laid his head on Chris's shoulder. Chris wrapped his arms around the tracker and began to play with his hair. As he carded his hands through the silky strands, he encountered a tangle.
"Ouch," Vin complained. "Be careful, that hurts."
Chris laughed, which was music to Vin's ears. "I'm gonna find Peso's comb and use it on this mop," he chuckled.
"Good luck, cowboy. Peso'll have somethin' ta say 'bout that."
Chris leaned over and kissed Vin on the forehead, then he nuzzled his neck and kissed his lips.
Vin moaned, slung a leg over Larabee's body and tugged him closer. Tanner
clutched Chris's ass through his long johns, their hard cocks rubbing together using the cloth for friction.
They were so tight against each other's bodies, it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Chris thought, 'this must be heaven.'
Vin uttered, "Stop, ya gotta stop."
"What!" His partner gasped.
"If 'n ya don't stop it'll be over before we git started."
It took all he had in him, but Chris finally backed off. "Damn pard," he breathed, "what now?"
They lay together for a few minutes, getting back their control.
"What say we git rid a these long johns," Vin suggested.
Chris rose, straddled Vin and unbuttoned the offending underwear. Vin gave him a low laugh, and then he reciprocated. In a few minutes both men were naked.
"I love to hear you laugh," Chris whispered, as he kissed the tracker again.
He run his tongue down Vin's body, stopping to lick and bite his nipples and on down to his navel. Chris tongued the dip
and bit at the edges. Sliding on down his belly, Chris found Vin's cock. He engulfed the hard dick into his mouth and began to suck.
Vin clamped his jaw together to keep from shouting out, but couldn't stop the groan. Passion and lust assailed his body and he thought he might just crave Larabee's touch, on his body, for as long as he lived.
Larabee kneaded Vin's balls, and felt Vin shudder. Not wanting to end this experience so quickly, he let Vin's cock fall from his lips and kissed his lover's mouth hard. Tasting blood, Chris whispered, "Sorry, didn't mean ta hurt ya." Chris took a tight hold of Vin's cock and jerked it roughly.
Tanner was beyond words as he took ahold of Chris's hard member and worked it mercilessly, stroking and pumping.
The ending was momentous as they reached their peak and climbed over in a culmination of fireworks.
Once he could breathe again, Chris rolled off of Vin and hugged him close. Chris couldn't understand why he felt such a tenderness towards this man. He'd felt this way about Sarah and Adam, but why Vin? He didn't understand it.
Vin loved the feel of Chris's body next to his. He'd led a solitary life, and that had been okay, but now, Vin wasn't sure he could go back to being alone. Vin closed his eyes and said a prayer to his Spirits that the relationship would last, but would it? He'd only known this man a few weeks, but he'd loved him the first time he'd seen him across that street.
Holding Vin, Chris's thoughts drifted toward the melancholy. Maybe if he'd held Sarah or Adam tighter and not taken them so much for granted, he'd still have them. Maybe if he held tight to Vin, nothing bad could happen to him. He kissed the top of Vin's head and held on.
"Chris," Tanner whispered.
"Hmmm," he answered, nuzzling into his lover and kissing his forehead.
"You're squeezing me," Vin said.
"Oh, sorry." Chris eased up his hold on the tracker. "You know, Vin, being with me ain't gonna be easy."
"Hell Chris, bein' with you will probably be the easiest thin' I've ever done. And fer that matter, bein' with me ain't gonna be no Sunday walk neither."
"You trying ta scare me, Tanner? It ain't working." Chris smiled and tugged Vin closer.
"Oh, hell no, Larabee," the tracker answered and kissed the man next to him. Passion rose between them and the only sounds that could be heard were the two quietly sharing their bodies with each other.
EPILOGUE:
The following morning Chris and Vin made the trip out to Cort Winter's ranch, the Circle W. As they reached the top of the hill overlooking the spread, the place looked deserted. The two men rode up to the house and shouted, "Hello the house!" but there was no answer. Looking at each other, shrugging, but not to be put off, they rode around the house, to where the bunkhouse stood. "Anyone here?" Vin shouted.
An old man stepped out of the bunkhouse, with his rifle cradled in his arms and asked, "Whadda ya want?"
"Hey old-timer," Chris said, "Where is everybody?"
"Gone, everyone's gone," he answered.
"Where?" Vin took up the question.
"I dunno, they're just gone. The owner got his self kilt over a card game. 'pears he lost, come back here, had the foreman git the hands tagether, went back inta town and shot up the place. Then someone shot him, the foreman and all the other dumb-asses that went off with him. The ones survived left. Once Mr. Winters died, there's no one ta pay the hands, so they jist lit out like, takin' what they could. He's buried in that little plot round front by where the missus was laid ta rest. She died last year."
"What about you, old-timer, what are going to do? Stay and try to work this place?" Chris inquired.
The old gentleman laughed. "Oh, shucks no, I'm jist waitin 'til I reckon where I'll go. Been here nigh on twenty years now. I been thinkin' on goin' on over ta the James' place. I reckon I'll be welcome there. Or I kin move inta town and muck out stalls fer Tiny. He owes me a favor 'r two. I heer'd some Judge hired seven lawmen in town, so the place might be plum peaceable now."
Chris grinned at the old man. "Well, there are seven men keeping the peace and you're welcome to move into town anytime you'd like. Good luck to you in whatever you decide."
"Thanks, reckon I'll ponder on it some more," the old man said.
As the old man watched, Chris and Vin turned their horses around and headed back to town.
END