When the Leaves Fall

Chapter 1

Chris should have seen it coming.

As he, Nathan, Ezra and Buck came back toward Four Corners from Miller's Grove, Chris had decided to make a detour toward Sandstone, to check out an old friend who'd been sick... but he forgot about Laura Beth, or he might have come back another day... without Buck.

Unfortunately, Chris might have forgotten, but Buck hadn't.

Ezra was in a more merry mood this trip, having won nearly $400 gambling after taking care of business, and he was regaling the others with stories about some of his wildest card games. Up to a point, Buck had joined in the laughter, but, the sight of the old lightning-split oak tree got his attention, and the ruins of the Taylor homestead drove him into a dark silence. Chris had been grinning like a possum, when he turned to say something to his life-long buddy, but stopped when he saw Buck's face. Chris wondered what the problem was, until he looked around, then, he did something he was unaccustomed to doing: he
apologized. Or, rather, he tried to...

"Buck," he said quietly, leaning in his direction, "I'm sorry. I forgot the old farm was here..."

Buck looked around at Chris, but there was more sadness than anger in his eyes, the kind of sadness made even deeper by the fact that Buck was the happy-go-luckiest, hell-for-leather man Chris ever knew. Chris gulped softly, wondering what personal hell memory was bringing back. But, Buck just closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

"Ain't yer fault, Chris. It's been... a while," the big man said. Buck stopped his mount, and the others stopped short. Ezra and Nathan had the expectedly puzzled looks on their faces, but Chris shook off any questions they might spill out, warningly. They simply looked at each other and Ezra shrugged lightly.

Buck composed himself, somewhat, then, mustering the best smile he could under the circumstances, he looked back to the others.

"Y'all head on ahead. I'll catch up in a bit, but I have to visit someone myself, for a spell. I ain't seen her in a while, and I need
to stop by and talk a spell," Buck stated.

Nathan and Ezra might have misunderstood, as they smiled a little at the thought of Buck "talking" with a woman, but Chris knew all too well what his life-long buddy meant, and his smile was more from compassion than anything else.

"Alright, Buck," Chris said, "We'll see you after while."

Buck sat still, watching three of his best friends ride away, waiting until they were out of sight among the trees off to the west before turning back toward the old Taylor place. As he approached, old hurt welled up in him, but he knew he couldn't leave without saying "Hi" to Laura. Beauty rounded the dilapidated structure of the burned homestead, and Buck stopped him just past the old porch. Dismounting, Buck tied Beauty to one of the pickets still standing from the old fence, and walked over to his once-favorite spot under an elm by the creek that ran by. He knelt by a grave marker placed there by him so many years ago, and removed his hat. Sadness nearly overwhelmed him, but something passed his eyes on it's way earthward. A leaf, brown and dead with the swiftly approaching winter, has been dislodged by a breeze, and earth's tug pulled it ground-ward. Buck actually laughed despite himself.

"Ah, Laura Beth... it looks like I kept that promise after all. Just not the way I meant to..."

Chapter 2

"Buck Wilmington, you oughta be ASHAMED!"

Buck, all of 18 years old and full of juice, looked up from the ground, where the elm tree had unkindly deposited him. Of course, had he not been craning for a better view, he might not have strained the branch he was on, which, in turn, might not have broken like it did. But he craned, and the branch broke, and gravity took care of the result.

Now, most women, upon having a man drop in unexpectedly while bathing, might have covered up as best as they could. However, Laura Beth merely stood there with a disapproving frown on her face and her hands placed firmly on her hips. She could ride and fight as hard as any man her age, but she was most definitely a woman, and she wasn't hiding that fact now.

When Buck tried to protest his "innocence", she just shook her head at him, and, when he tried to scold her for her "immodesty", she simply replied: "What? You dang near broke your fool neck trying so hard to get a look-see, who am I to deny ya? Go on, take a good look, Mr. Acts-Like-He-Ain't-Never-Seen-A-Girl-Before!"

So, Buck, given an opportunity, kept right on looking. And Laura kept right on bathing, as if Buck wasn't even there...

Chris, Nathan and Ezra sat around a table at the Sandstone Saloon, and Chris explained the situation to them.

"Buck's been in love before and since, and... well, you know Buck...flittin' from one gal to the next like a bee to flowers. But, Laura Beth was his first real and his best love.  They got real close for a while. But, Laura's Daddy wanted Buck to settle down and be a farmer, and Buck wanted to roam the open spaces, so he joined a cattle drive. That's how we met..."

Chris looked at the lanky Wilmington with a bemused expression, as he tried to find the right way to say goodbye to Laura Beth Taylor. She WAS a right pretty girl. But, no matter how manly Buck tried to make his farewell speech, he kept fumbling over his tongue. She finally put two fingers over his jabbering lips to shush him. He looked into her loving eyes with his bright blue ones, but, when she saw the determination to go, she said softly, "Your friend is waiting Buck. I don't think he has all day to listen to you say goodbye."

"Dang it, Laura, I do hafta go, but I'll be back for ya. I promise!"

She laughed softly, with sad merriment, not derision. "Yeah... he says that to all his women, Mr. Larabee."

"You know you're the only woman for me, Laura Beth! Ya have been for some time," he protested, shuffling his feet.

Laura merely raised an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips, and brought back a memory which caused Buck to blush. She smiled at his comical fluster, then gave him a kiss that nearly took him off his feet. Huskily, she whispered in his ear, "If you're gonna come back, I'll be waitin'..." Then, smacking him open-handed on his butt, she added, "But, if you're gonna ever come back, ya hafta git goin' first!"

He hurried on to his horse, laughing. As he mounted, he looked back one last time, and shouted, "When should I come back for ya, Darlin'?"

"Watch for the changing of the seasons, Buck. I'll be looking for ya when the leaves fall!"

He tipped his hat to her, smiling. "When the leaves fall, Darlin'!" He whipped his horse around, and, with a loud "YEEHAW!" he took off with Chris Larabee...

Buck sat by the grave, propped up against the old elm, his hat in his lap. "But, I did make it back that first fall. Oh, Lordy, what a time we had..."

She saw him coming from a distance; she had felt him coming in her bones. The leaves had just started turning red and gold a few weeks back, and, sure enough, Buck Wilmington returned with the changing weather. She ran as hard as she could manage, completely forgetting about her horse, Dusty. He saw her, and sped his steed up. He dismounted in front of her before his horse had even stopped, and he swept her up in his arms, kissing her like he had no tomorrow. They held each other for minutes before either spoke.

Words flowed out of the two, words of excitement, of joy, and of love, and she took her strapping young man with her to a special place down by the creek, and stayed with him the whole afternoon, and most of the night. If her Mom and Dad wondered about the two of them when she showed up with him in tow for dinner, they never said. He was greeted warmly... he might not be a farmer, but he WAS a working man, and Hank Taylor respected that. Sarah Taylor set another place for him, and he joined them for their evening meal.

Afterward, Buck talked with the family for a little while, then he and Laura Beth walked under the stars. Now, Buck Wilmington had grown up around women; his Mom had been a Madam in a "house of ill repute" most of his life, but he grew a certain fondess and respect for women-folk that amazed his Mother. She was always afraid that Buck might try to settle down with one of "the girls", but he never tried to latch on to any in particular... oh, he got an "education" in the oldest art, but no firm commitment. Laura Beth was different in a number of ways.

When he decided to make his own way in the world, he moved over to Sandstone and tried to find work as best as he could. His first real job was working for the local grocer. His first assignment had been to take supplies out to the Taylor farm. He was met at the door by the then tomboyish Laura Beth, who promptly told her mother that she was gonna marry this "handsome fella" with the constant grin and the twinkle in his eyes. Since Laura was still a year away from blossoming into womanhood, Buck just grinned all the brighter, and simply said, "We'll just have to see about that!" Winking, he continued unloading his wagon. He came by from time to time, bringing supplies and checking on the Taylors. He sensed that Laura Beth was a rare one, and he wanted to see what she would become... and my, oh my, what she became!...

Chris finished another shot, pausing for a moment. Nathan leaned over the table expectantly, waiting for more of the tale, but Ezra shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Something was clearly bothering him.

"Am I boring you, Ezra?" Chris queried, smiling lightly at the dapper gambler.

Standish locked eyes with Chris, and Larabee regretted saying anything to the man. There was some empathetic pain registering in Ezra, and he was having trouble coming to grips with it. When he finally replied, he was unusually quiet.

"Not at all, Mr. Larabee. Under other circumstances, another's history of good fortune in romance would be cause for celebration. However," Standish coughed softly, "I am quite certain that Mr. Wilmington's tale has no happy ending. I've... never been fond of stories without happy endings"

Chris was very quiet for a moment, thought about his reply as he gazed into his whiskey. Finally, he looked up.

"There IS tragedy, if that's what you mean, Ezra. And, not all stories end well... but, I can tell you this, love triumphs in the end..."

Chapter 3

All that winter, Buck and Laura found legendary love for one another. They were together fairly constantly, when he wasn't working, and she was helping out around the farm, or out riding. The two were happy, in way most folks seek, but few find. And, it was the saddest irony that their happiest moment would lead to their most tragic...

It was just a barn dance, like barn dances all over creation, I suppose. But, Buck delighted in taking his lady love to it, and she
was delighted to go! On this particular night, however, there were other guests, among them Silas Corbin and his son Jeremiah.

The Corbins were a wealthy family, and obnoxiously so. Oh, the folks in those parts forgave them (most) of their annoyances... they were good customers, and generous to boot, in their purchases, and they had never been accused of cheating a soul, but, they were not used to taking "No" for an answer, and such folks, honest or no, are unpleasant when they are balked.

For instance... On the night of the dance, young Jeremiah, decked out in his best suit, could have had his pick of the available women to woo, and there were several mighty fine ladies who had come of age, any of which would have been delighted at his advances. It was sheer misfortune that his eyes rested on Laura, however.

Now, Buck was a bit jealous in those days, but, had Laura chosen to dance with Jeremiah, Buck would have stepped aside as pleasantly as possible. Indeed, one might ask now if her affirmative choice might have avoided tragedy later. However, there was something in his eyes, in his bearing, that unnerved beautiful Laura, and she refused...graciously at first, then forcefully when Corbin couldn't take a hint. It was at this point that Buck stepped in, and trouble began...

Buck sat there by the elm, head in his hands, tears streamming down his face. "Oh, God! Laura, why didn't I just let YOU handle him? It wasn't like you weren't able. I just had to be your..." He sought the word, then spat it: "hero..."

Words, just a few words were all they were... harshly spoken, poorly taken, but in the end, they were JUST words. Corbin basically told Buck to butt out, and Buck told Corbin what part part of Hell he could go to. A shove here, one returned... then Corbin made the mistake of reaching past Buck and grabbing Laura's right arm. Buck didn't even remember hitting him later... Jeremiah Corbin remembered though, and his Dad made sure he remembered...

Chris shook his head, then looked at the other two.

"I wasn't there that night, or I might coulda helped. But, I was over in Culverton, harvesting a romance of my own." Chris sighed, then continued, "You know what's funny? If Buck hadn't have hit Corbin in full view of everybody, if Laura had slapped him herself, if Corbin's Dad had have intervened... if, if, if... None of what took place later might have happened. Even so, for the longest time, Buck and Laura thought that they had seen the end of it, because Corbin didn't make any overt moves for a while..."

Winter turned to spring, and spring turned slowly toward summer, and love grew. Buck and Laura Beth became nearly inseparable. In fact, wedding plans were being discussed before he and Chris once more hit the cattle trail. It had been pretty much decided that the two would wed when he returned the following fall.

"When the leaves fall again, Laura, we'll be married!" Buck gushed, as he stood holding her for dear life. Chris waited patiently for Buck... again, smiling his little smile. And, just as before, Laura whacked Buck one one the butt to send him on his way.

"When the leaves fall!" he yelled, as the two men rode away.

"When the leaves fall, My Love," she whispered as she waved. She rubbed her tummy, as he rode off, wondering why for the love of Pete she hadn't said anything about their pending parenthood? He would not have left, that's for sure... but, for some reason, she didn't have the heart to keep him from the open spaces, at least one last time. But, she knew he loved her, and she knew, if at all possible, he would return...

"I wish I had known, Laura, about the baby. Things might have still turned out different, if I had stayed. Ol' Jeremiah had a summer to stew, to make your life, and your Pa and Maw's a living Hell. I might have killed him if I hada known what was comin'. No, I WOULDA killed him. Him and his Daddy and his whole cursed family..."

It began oddly, but innocently, enough. Some of the stores in town began charging more for the goods the Taylors bought, and paid less for the goods they produced. That would not have been so bad, if Hank hadn't have found out that he was being treated differently than other folks. When he raised Cain about it, many of the merchants stopped commerce with him all together. Angry, but not yet suspicious of any malice toward him in particular, he began taking his business to Culverton. However, he was robbed and beaten on the way back, once, and he stopped going the same way, or at the same times. Then, he got hat crazy notice that his property had been bought, and he and his family were to vacate immediately. THAT was when Hank Taylor knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that someone had an interest in hurting him and his family, personally!

Oh, Hank got the mess about his property sorted out, but not before he had a heated argument with the sheriff and the bank president. For all the good it did him... By the time he returned home, his farmhouse was in full blaze, his wife terrified, and his daughter missing. Raiders had struck his home about an hour after he left. They had scared Sarah half out of her wits, and had set everything on fire. Laura had been out on a ride when she saw the smoke, and had returned, trying to stop the men from doing more harm. She had been ripped from her saddle by one of the men, and the group left, Laura screaming angrily at the top of her lungs in their midst...

Chris shook with the memory of what he had been told later.

"I won't go into details. They hurt her, and that was enough. She returned home... what was left, anyway... staggering, in her bare feet. Bloodied." Chris grew quiet. "She lost the baby."

Ezra was stunned, "You call that a triumph of love, Mr. Larabee? I shall seek another's opinion when you claim all is roses in the future..."

Chris looked at Ezra, then smiled, "Ezra, the story hasn't ended here, and I want you to know... she saved Buck's life, in more ways than one. She was one of the finest women... Hell, one of the finest PEOPLE... I ever knew. Short of my own wife, I never knew a better soul..."

Chapter 4

"Kinda makes ya wonder what sort of character bad things bring out in people," Chris said softly, sipping his whiskey. Nathan and Ezra gave each other a knowing look... if ANYONE would know such an answer, it would be Chris, but the two simply listened. Chris added to his thought, "The Taylors could have packed it in, just left... nobody would have thought the worst of them for it. But, they stayed, and Laura Beth gave as good as she got..."

Some folks think that money will buy anything... or anyone. Certainly, the Corbins must have thought it. Imagine Jeremiah's surprise when he next met Laura...

It was four weeks after her assault, and she was in town as if nothing had happened. Most of her (visible) bruises had faded away. She was in town to buy a few supplies, as Culverton was too far just to save a couple of dollars. As she came out of the general store, she ran into Jeremiah and three of his ranch hands.

"Well! Afternoon, Laura Beth," he began. He still had that air of menace about him that had bothered her at the dance, but, she simply frowned at him, as she replied, "Good to see nothing's wrong with yer time piece, at least."

This puzzled him. "I beg your pardon?"

She looked at him as one might gaze at a child slow to grasp a fundamental truth about life, patiently, but with some annoyance.

"You said 'afternoon', which is a fact. I thought maybe you were showing off your knack for time," she remarked as she tried to move past him. However, he stepped in front of her.

Smiling without any of the friendliness he was affecting, he quipped, "You are indeed a clever woman. But, cleverness is not always enough in a harsh world."

She glared into his eyes, feigning no friendliness at all, "What do you want, Mr. Corbin?"

He hesitated a fraction of a second under her glare, but his taught arrogance resurfaced swiftly.

"It is not necessarily what I want, but what YOU need, that concerns me, Laura Beth," he said through teeth more clinched than grinning.

She snorted, "And what, pray tell, would you have that I'd ever need, Mr. Corbin?"

"Protection, Miss Taylor,"

She lay her groceries in the back of the wagon, and turned slowly to face him, face darkening, "What was that? Protection? From what, Mr.Corbin? Outside of you and your hired goons, I have nothin' to fear at all!"

The volume of her voice grew, and a crowd, curious about the commotion, started to form.

"Keep your voice down!" He hissed.

"For what? I WANT them to know what you really are Jeremiah Corbin, that you and your family have bought and paid for them, so that they do your dirty work for you!"

The sheriff arrived at that moment.

"What's going on here, Miss Taylor?"

"Why don't you tell me?" she snarled at him.

"Now, lady or not, you cause trouble, and I'll have to lock you up!" he smiled grimly.

She got very quiet, and very close to him, eyes blazing.

"So you can have another go at me?"

He was taken aback, and moved away a pace.

She pursued him that step.

"You have a very identifiable birthmark, Sheriff, should I ever have to identify you in court!" she hissed at him. Then she whirled and climbed on board her wagon.

Corbin drew close, "You should be with me, Laura Beth, for your own good. Pray you do not incur my wrath..."

She gazed levelly into his eyes, and replied, "Pray I keep standing between you and the grave, Mr. Corbin, for, if Buck finds out what you've done to me, he will most certainly kill you."

Corbin snorted, "Wilmington? What can one man do?"

She calmed down, gazing off to the north, in Buck's direction, and said softly, "I've seen all sides of him, Mr. Corbin... he's as sweet as honey and as gentle of spirit as a lamb, but that is balanced by a ragin' force of nature." She looked in his eyes one last time. "He's one man, true, but he has thunder in his eyes and lightning in his hands. YOU'D best pray his storm don't come for you!"...

Chapter 5

Buck's strong emotions were nearly spent as he sat there at the elm, but an emptiness lingered that was only topped by his deep love for this woman he buried at this spot, so long ago. He gingerly touched the soil that contained her remains, and he whispered, "I love you, Laura Beth. I always have... if I hadn't been so blind, we could have grown old together..."

He leaned back against the tree, and looked skyward. The sun was beginning to set, and the first few stars began to wander out of hiding.

"You looked so beautiful, when I got back. I had no idea what had happened when I saw your old farmstead. You wouldn't say anything about it, and I didn't pry." Buck sniffed, then continued, "We had love for a while, though, didn't we? We loved a lifetime in those few weeks we had left, together..."

A leaf fell from a branch on the old elm, as Buck and Chris returned from the trail. Chris shook Buck's hand.

"Let me know when the wedding is... I'd like to be there," he said.

Buck gripped his hand a little tighter, and laughed, "You'd better be there, seeing how'll you'll be the best man, and all!" He winked, and Chris laughed, clasping Buck on the shoulder before riding on to Culverton. Laura waited for him with sighing anticipation, and he burst within like Fourth of July fireworks when he saw her glowing in the late afternoon sun, reflecting back the beauty of all creation. He loved her all over again.

She and her family now lived in a smaller home built a few yards from the original. He frowned at the burnt ediface that had been her home for years, but she said nothing, so he let it go with a shrug. He took her in his arms, and she kissed him with the pent up need of three long months, at once soothing him and exciting him.

"Whoo-ie, Darlin'! I'd go away more often if I knew I'd come home to this ever day!" he laughed. She giggled, and took him by the hand.

"I've waited for you long enough," she whispered in his ear, kissing him. She led him away, to their special place near the creek...

Chris shook his whiskey slowly, as if trying to call up images in the dark liquid.

"Had we gotten back one hour later, Buck would have rode over to Culverton for the night, and we would have drank and raised a little hell. He'd have passed out from booze and fatigue, and nothing would have been worse for wear." He looked up, then stretched. "But, then, I could be wrong. Maybe a trip to Culverton would have only delayed the inevitable. Instead, I went to find Marie, and Buck ended up, after a visit with Laura Beth, in Sandstone. As luck would have it, so was Jeremiah Corbin. And, to boot, Corbin was well liquored up by the time Buck arrived at the local watering hole.

"Yep," he finished, "liquored up and itchin' for a fight. And, y'all know Buck... next to some good lovin', nothing makes him happier than a good fight..."

"I shaid yew were a low-down, scum-suckin' excush of a man, Wilmington! Huh... that Taylor girl pickin' yer misherable hide over my good breedin'. Where she get off, eh? Why, I'm twish the man you are, and could have her shcreaming my name all night from mah bed!"

Buck narrowed his eyes. The personal insults only reflected an invite to a head-knockin' in Buck's books, which he would have gladly obliged in a good-humored aw-shucks kinda ass-whipping. But, the reference to his Lady Love was tantamount to lighting a short fuse on dynamite. The offending party better be able to put some distance between himself, and the coming explosion. Unfortunately, not only was Corbin not running, he was intent on fanning the fuse...

"Why, I have half a mind to go put mah brand on that little filly right now!" Corbin laughed coarsely.

Buck's nostrils flared, and he fought to maintain some control. It wasn't that he didn't really wanted to bust up the bar with Corbin's sorry face; he just wanted a cold beer and a quiet corner. He was a bit tired, and really didn't want to work up a sweat making kindling out of the furniture with Corbin as his ax.

"Now, listen Corbin. I been real patient with you, on account of you bein' drunk. But, you keep talking about my fiancé' like that, and I'm gonna plow a furrow right down the middle of town with your skull, you hear me?"

Buck snorted once, and shoved Corbin aside, as he made way for the bar. Some of Corbin's toughs got up from their tables, but Buck pointed at them quickly.

"Trust me on this boys," he said, "You don't want no part of me tonight. I'm liable to hurt ya, and not even mean to..."

The men looked at each other, then at Corbin.

Now, sober, Corbin, if he decided to mess with Buck at all, would have let his men soften Buck up before trying to take him on, personally. But, drunk, Corbin found courage in stupidity. He tapped Buck on the shoulder, got his attention, then proceeded, in lurid detail, to describe what he intended to do with Miss Taylor. Buck listened for about a minute, then...

"Yep. That just about does it," he huffed. Corbin is unlikely to have seen Buck move, had he been sober. And, the alcohol probably anesthetized him somewhat, for which he'd be glad, later.

The punch Corbin took at the dance was a love tap, by comparison. Coming up from his seat and completely torquing his hips, Buck came, seemingly from the floor, with a rapid upper cut that lifted Corbin off the ground with an audible CRACK! Corbin sailed unconscious over a table, and Buck watched him land with a dull thud. Corbin did not move from his landing zone.

"Huh," Buck snorted derisively, "I bet that hurt."

He returned to his drink, listening as a series of chairs were moved and footfalls headed in his direction.

"Now boys," he lied as he sipped his beer, "I don't want no trouble..."

"Of course, I was hoping for some trouble," Buck admitted to Laura's grave. "And, well... I got some!"...

A small crowd of townsfolk, still up at this hour, gathered outside the bar to watch the ruckus. A viewer viewing the onlookers would have been amused by the wincing faces and the gritted teeth every time a crashing sound spilled from within. Within moments, there was relative quiet, and a single soul walked erect from the carnage within. Buck stopped outside for just a few seconds, and critiqued the evening for passers-by:

"That was fun... not as much as this afternoon, mind ya, but it was fun."

He walked on toward the stable to get his horse and headed back to the Taylor place. His next few days were filled with laughter and joy.

Corbin's was filled with self-loathing, as he was dressed down almost continually by the Old Man for his lack of character and strength.

"I'm glad your mother isn't alive to see you now," Silas growled, "I'd be asking her who your REAL father is! No issue from my bloodline resulted in as pathetic a specimen as YOU, I'm sure of it! Now, those cretins I hire... they have the excuse of inferior breeding. I expect THEM to fail. But, not you... NEVER a Corbin!"

And, the Old Man delivered a promise to Jeremiah.

"You take care of that Wilmington and the Taylor girl, Boy. If you can't, I shall! However," he sneered as he pulled his son's face close to his own, "If I have to deal with it, you'll find yourself another meal ticket, for I shall have no son, afterward! Clear?"

"Crystal," Jeremiah gulped.

"We found out later what happened at the Corbin's place... Silas kept a journal, which survived him," Chris told his listeners. "This we DO know... the stage was set. It took planning on the kid's part to hatch his scheme, but his plan was carried out with brutal efficiency, when it came, and Buck's life would be changed, forever..."

Chapter 6

Buck sat there under the elm tree, talking to his Lady Love, and the world... even the creek grew quiet, listening. Beauty would normally have been pitching a fit to move on, to find a good warm stable, but even he twitched his ears in the dark, as if urging Buck on.

In the dark, knees curled up to his chest and hat in his hands in front of them, he whispered "Yellow Rose of Texas" to the tender grave of his beloved. A tear trickled down his face.

"Do ya remember, Laura? I sang that to ya the day of the picnic... the day before we were to be married..."

If ever two young folk were destined to be together, west of Camelot itself, it was Buck and Laura Beth. But as Arthur and Guinivere were cursed in their love, so were Buck and Laura. Ill fate drove Arthur's Queen into Lancelot's arms, and ill-fortune drove Jeremiah Corbin across Laura Beth Taylor's path.

Buck and Laura were having a prewedding picnic at the Taylor place the day before the big event. Although a lot of invited folk stayed inexplicably away, many did come. It was a fine affair, with plenty of good cooking, music and merriment. In fact, Buck had the whole place in stitches singing and dancing an impromptu variation on "The Yellow Rose of Texas", all to Laura's delight!

Things were going very well, indeed, until Corbin and some of his boys showed up, uninvited.

"What are you doing here, Corbin?" Hank demanded. "We don't need you and your bunch spoiling a good meal!"

Corbin smiled humorlessly at the proceedings. He and his men were heavily armed, but the celebrants were not. He pointed that fact out to Hank, as he dismounted. He cavalierly walked over to the main table, and helped himself to a chicken leg.

"Mmmmm--MMMMM!" he stated. "Yes indeed, good food!" He tipped his hat at Mrs. Taylor who glared in trepidation at him. "My compliments to the cooks!"

"Mr. Taylor asked you what you were doing here, Corbin," Buck growled through clinched teeth. Laura held him close, but it was hard to tell if Buck was protecting her, or whether SHE was holding him back from attacking Corbin.

"Well, well... Mr. Wilmington. I do not believe I was talking to you, but since you've been kind enough to acknowledge my presence, the least I can do is answer you. I am here to give the happy couple a wedding gift," Corbin sneered, not the least bit sincere.

"We want nothing from ya!" Laura spat.

"Oh, but you DO, dear Laura Beth, because, you see, I bring advice to you and your man. Advice you need to hear... and heed." Corbin put a leg up on a stump, and pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Taking a drag, he blew smoke casually into the afternoon air, and turned to face the couple. "See, some folks around here don't appreciate uppity women and their scruffy cowpoke courters. In fact, some folk dislike 'em enough that they may well burn their homes down around 'em..."

Buck's eyes flashed, "Oh, like what happened here, Corbin?" Laura was definitely holding him back now.

"Perhaps the unfortunate attack on the Taylor homestead might have resulted from this dislike, yes. Who's to say?" Corbin said with a shrug. "Anyway, I think it best that you two leave these parts as soon as possible. After the wedding would be good... right now would be even better."

Hank was furious. "I've given them a portion of my land to set up a stake, to build a future for themselves here!" he fumed.

Corbin just chuckled, "That's rich, old man, because I was just about to suggest you and the missus uproot and leave as well. As for them..." Corbin nodded toward the couple. "They stay here, they don't have a future."

Corbin dropped his half-smoked cigar on the ground, and stomped it out. He then ambled back over to his horse, and remounted.

Buck shouted at him, "You can forget it pretty boy... We ain't goin' nowhere!" he tried to get at Corbin, but Laura had a firm grasp on him, and Chris grabbed a shoulder to help hold him back.

Corbin pulled back his dress coat, revealing his side arm, which he unfastened.

"Oh, please, Buck... give me a reason to put you out of your misery," he laughed, mirthlessly.

"Now's not the time," Chris said quietly in Buck's ear.

"Sound advice," Corbin laughed again, and turned to ride away with his men...

Chris' face grew dark over his drink, and the world seemed to press down on him as he continued his tale. Even the air grew thick, like before a heavy thunderstorm.

"I don't know what got into Corbin. Chances are, after thinking about it, Laura Beth and Buck might have decided it was best not to risk it, to move on after all. Who knows? All anyone can say now is that Corbin had one last parting shot to make, and he made the best of it..."

After his horse took just a few steps, Corbin whipped him back around at the crowd. His men, puzzled, stopped, as well. Corbin spurred his horse in a slow trot back a few feet.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Wilmington. As added incentive, your hasty departure would most certainly avoid your lovely bride's being attacked again," he stated, as casually as one would comment on the pretty sunshine.

Buck's back was to Corbin at this time, Laura off to the side, helping her mother. Both froze in place, momentarily, then Buck turned ever so slowly in Corbin's direction.

"What are you talking about, Corbin?" he growled lowly. All the blood was draining from Laura's face as she saw where this was headed.

"Oh, dear me! Perhaps the matter slipped her mind," Corbin continued casually, "See, when raiders struck this place, they hauled Miss Taylor off with them..." Buck looked at Laura in shock, as Corbin rattled on, "Rumor has it that, in the hours that they had her company, that a goodly number took liberties with her. I was thinking that your leaving these parts would probably forestall a repeat performance, if such ruffians are still 'round these parts..."

Buck's eyes were completely shut now, but he could still see that day as clearly as if he were reliving it.

"I was hurt Laura, that you felt you couldn't tell me, but I loved you. I loved you! I always thought, later, that Corbin must have
thought, if nothing else, to drive a wedge between us with his snide remark, but at the time, I only had one thought on my mind..."

"You son of a BITCH!" Buck screamed at Corbin. In a split second he turned to fetch his gun belt.

Time slowed to a molasses crawl in that instant. Corbin, now in fear, realized he had made a terrible mistake, and would pay for it with his life if he didn't act now, he pulled his gun and aimed at Buck's unprotected back. As he pulled the trigger, Laura moved between his Colt's business end and Buck. She took the shell that was meant for her lanky lover, and the impact knocked her back into Buck's legs, taking both of them down.

"What the hell's wrong with you?!?" shouted one of Corbin's hired guns at him. So distracted were the men that Hank Taylor got his rifle up to his shoulder.

"Look out!" shouted another of Corbin's thugs.

Three of the gunmen turned on Hank, but not before he got off one grazing shot that nearly knocked Corbin out of his saddle. Hank Taylor went down in a hail of hot lead an instant later.

Chris Larabee, even then, was handy with the pistol, and the chaos was all he needed to get his fast hands on his pieces. As Corbin spun his horse away in a gallop from the firefight, Chris sent four of his men to meet their Maker, a one-man retribution engine who plowed through the hired guns with steely precision. With only three remaining, and none of them figuring to have a dog in this fight, the rest turned tail and ran after their boss' son.

In the aftermath, Sarah Taylor wailed in agony over her dying husband, and Buck rocked back and forth on his knees, gently cradling Laura Beth's still form. Chris heard him whispering something softly, tears welling up in the big man's eyes. Hesitantly, Chris approached his friend.

In a broken voice, fueled by a broken heart, Buck Wilmington was singing "The Yellow Rose of Texas" for his Love...

And, in a light breeze, another leaf fell...

Nathan sat with his jaw open, and Ezra sat in quiet sorrow. The gambler started to rise from his seat, and he quipped to Larabee, "Remind me, should I ever wish to end my own life, to ask you for a story as an added incentive."

"Leaving now, Ezra?" Chris asked.

"I should think so, Mr. Larabee, I am depressed enough as it is. If you spin any more yarns, I may well hang myself."

"Story ain't over yet," Chris stated, with a strange look in his eyes. Not sadness, Ezra noted, but more like... well, marvel.

"Oh joy," Ezra rolled his eyes, but sat back down. "Let me guess, you and the grieving Mr. Wilmington ride off into the sunset to exact justice on Mr. Corbin and his cohorts?"

Chris smiled a very strange smile at Standish, one that made the short hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"The time would come for justice, yes... but that time didn't come for a while. You wanna hear about love, Ezra? I mean REAL love?"

Ezra and Nathan both puzzled over Chris' remarks, but remained silent.

Chris sat back. "That is," he said, "what this story's really about, after all. And if you leave now, you will never get to hear it..."

Chapter 7

Nathan leaned over the table, resting on his elbows.

"Now, I'm confused, Chris... There can't be much more of a love story with Miss Taylor dead."

Chris smiled that little smile of his.

"I said Corbin SHOT her... I didn't say he KILLED her."

Nathan and Ezra both took renewed interest in Chris' story, and listened intensely...

Buck nearly leapt from his skin when Laura coughed and groaned in pain. Chris' eyes got wide as saucers. He squeezed Buck's shoulder.

"I'll fetch Doc Mason from town!" he said, as he ran to get a horse.

Buck simply nodded, then said softly, "Hurry, Chris..." then louder: "Hurry, Chris! Hurry!"

He turned his attention back to Laura Beth, who was in obvious pain and laboring for breath.

"Hold on, Sweetheart! Chris has gone to get some help," he said. Laura simply looked up at him with a glazed expression...

"I only had ya with me a short enough time as it was, Laura... I couldn't have born losing ya right then," Buck said. He looked back up at the stars, blazing silently in the night skies, and breathed in deeply. "The news wasn't all that good, as it was..."

Hank Taylor was dead, and Laura was in horrible shape. She had lost a lot of blood, and was very weak when the doctor arrived, just behind Chris.

Doc Mason tended to her wound, as best he could, but told Buck he could in no wise operate... the bullet was lodged in such a way near her spine that he'd do more harm that good by trying to remove it. She rested fitfully in bed a short while later, as Doc Mason pulled Buck aside.

"Son, I ain't gonna lie to ya. By all rights, she should be dead. Ta be honest, she's living on will alone," the old sawbones said.

"That's mah girl," Buck breathed softly, looking back at her room.

"Don't get too relieved just yet, Mr. Wilmington. You need to know some things..." Mason looked at the floor, gathered his thoughts, then looked Buck squarely in the eyes. Buck's blues focused on the doctor's face, tracing every nuance he found there. He's never concentrated on anything harder.

Mason continued, "She'll never be the same, again, Buck. She may never walk, if she lives out the day. And..." the old man swallowed hard, "I know y'all were gonna get married, but... even if she lives, she probably won't ever be able to bear children. I'm sorry."

The older man patted the younger man gently on the shoulder, shook his head, then took his leave...

"I ain't never hated a man as much as I hated Jeremiah Corbin," Buck said, sitting under the tree, feeling the flushed heat in his face rising once more. "He was a dead man, as sure as I was standing in that doorway. I was headed out the door, aimin' ta get on mah horse, ride right up to Old Man Corbin's place, and find that bastard son of his, and finish it right there. In my eyes, he might as well have killed ya, because he robbed us of happiness, of our lives and dreams together." Buck was quiet for a moment, then he smiled, "Shows ya what I knew..."

Buck did indeed turn toward the front door, and it is unlikely that even Chris could have stopped him. But, the man who would have waded through the hardest blows, the deadliest hail of bullets, without flinching, stopped cold at the softest voice calling his name.

"Buck," he heard her barely audible whisper, as she fought for enough air to talk.

He walked slowly and quietly into her room, and sat gently on the edge of her bed, taking one of her hands tenderly in his.

"How you feeling Darlin'?" he asked quietly, gazing into her pain-racked eyes.

"Like dancing," she whispered, smiling softly, then tried to laugh, but it became a short series of coughs.

"Don't try to talk, Sweetheart," he shushed her, but she was having none of that. She grew serious, grabbing his collar with surprising strength for one so near death. She made him look her in the eyes.

"Don't" was all she said, but it spoke volumes to him. He started to argue, but she shook her head at him. "No!" she whispered fiercely.

"Laura," Buck attempted to reason, "he tried to kill me, and damn near killed you. I HAFTA deal with him..."

She reached up and took his face in her weakened grip. But, though he physically could have shook her off easily, he was emotionally bound, and would not have broken that soft grasp with any effort he made. Her eyes blazed as much as his had a moment ago.

"No."

He looked in her eyes, thinking or a more persuasive argument, but her gaze lost its hard edge, and loving tenderness replaced it.

"Buck, you can't," she stated. "You're a hard man, but you're not a murderer. I'm not worried that you might die seeking revenge for Corbin's actions, Buck..." she wheezed, fighting for the strength to continue, "and you would probably die trying to reach him. But, I am worried that you'll lose your soul if you succeeded."

Her expression was soft, gentle, as she held his face. "I fell in love with a good man, Buck, a good man with a good heart! Corbin has hardened you, though, like a rock inside. If ya managed to kill him now, your heart would be hard forever, and I would die for nothing."

"Ya ain't gonna die!" he pleaded with her, locking her gaze with his.

"I shoulda died already, Buck... you're the only thing keeping me here. I love you, my husband... if you'll still have me," she looked into his eyes, found the love still there for her, "and I want to protect the good man you are from the likes of Jeremiah Corbin."

Buck, kissed her hand as she still held it to his face. She smiled at him, and caressed his now whiskered features with her palm and fingers, and he leaned into her touch.

"Do you love me Buck?" she sighed at him.

"How can you ask a thing like that of me?" he replied, "you KNOW I do!"

"Then, if you can't find it in your heart to release your hatred for your own sake, do it for me... Don't go, Buck... stay with me."

"And, I did, Laura," he said to her marker, as the hurt welled up in him again.

Nathan sat back, more satisfied. "So, Miss Taylor lived! But the grave you said was there..."

Chris nodded, "It's her's. But, that didn't come right away. She was spared a bit longer, and made as much of a life with Buck as she was able, in the time they had together."

"And when you said she saved his life in more ways than one..." Nathan added.

"Yep. She saved his life by taking a bullet for him, and she saved his heart by loving him. But, she saved the best for last, and that's what made Buck the man his is today."

Ezra coughed softly, "You're forgetting something. What about Corbin?"

Chris' face grew dark once more, "Yes. Corbin... well, I'm sad to say that the wheels of justice turned very slowly in Sandstone those days..."

Chapter 8

Chris bent back over his drink in thought, composing how he wanted to say what was on his mind. He squinted at Ezra and Nathan as if peering inside each man, putting his thoughts into a perspective they would understand.

"The people of Sandstone really weren't that bad, but they needed Corbin money, and, when someone's been good to ya, it's hard to believe that someone is a gross sinner like you and me..."

Young Chris Larabee stood in stunned silence as the Sheriff laughed at him.

"Arrest Jeremiah Corbin? What are you, a damned fool? The only reason you and that long drink of water, Wilmington, ain't in my lock-up now is because Corbin's alive." Guffawed the alledged lawman slapping his knees in front of Chris.

"Sheriff," the surprise gone out of him, replaced by a simmering anger, "I just told you that Corbin and his boys shot up the Taylor place. They killed Hank Taylor and seriously wounded Laura Beth..."

"Yeah," the Sheriff stood and squared his shoulders, "and I heered that you killed four of Corbin's men, too. In self defense, I suppose."

"Yeah," Chris said slowly, "in self defense."

Micah Stonemason had been the local law for 11 years. For most of those years, he been a good man, but he'd lost some of his edge, and, not wanting to toil endlessly on some farm, he wanted to keep his job for as long as possible. For that reason, he welcomed Corbin's money and hired guns, who made his job easier... since they chose not to indiscriminantly shoot up the place. Micah was in his winter years, and he wanted them to pass quietly. So much so, that he wasn't willing to make waves with his benefactors, unless her really had no choice. As for his "indiscretion" with the Taylor girl... Hell, all the boys
were having a little fun, and everyone KNEW the Taylor girl was itching for a good breakin'. She wasn't roughed up too badly, in his estimation, and she got off pretty lightly, in some folks opinion.

Of course, if Buck had been able to read his mind, Sandstone would have needed a new badge toter.

As it was, Chris was having a hard enough time fighting the temptation to dig a hole in this side of the street and burying Stonemason up to his shoulder blades. In Chris' mind, the man was only fit to work as a hitching post, now.

"Well, Mr. Larabee," Micah said, "I got conflictin' stories on the dust up out at the Taylor's. Corbin's men say your friend Wilmington instigated the whole affair..."

Chris' face grew dark and dangerous, and the Sheriff hastened on with his remarks, "Of course, most folks I've spoken with to date say it was hard to say who was at fault, that it was just a misunderstandin' got out of hand."

"It wasn't a misunderstanding, Sheriff. Jeremiah Corbin was aiming to shoot Buck in the back!"

"So you say."

"So everyone that was there would say if they weren't liars or completely gutless!"

Now, it was the Sheriff's turn to redden.

"You'd best watch your mouth, young man. Folks have been known to get shot over less."

Chris got close to Micah, and spoke very quietly, but very clearly, and Stonemason did not misinterpret the challenge, "If I ever get shot here, Sheriff, it'll have to be in the back, because there's no one in these parts who'll take me face to face."

Chris then turned his back on the man with the tin badge long enough to remount his horse. Chris then left the mouth-agaped man with a parting thought: "Of course, I'd honor the man with guts enough to try. At his funeral." Chris tipped his hat, and rode away...

Buck shook his head in the dark, still in disbelief.

"Ya know, Laura," he said softly to her memory, "I knew the whole town was in Corbin's back pocket, but for some reason I thought... I just KNEW... that someone would speak out against your Pa's death. Then, when Chris came back from town and told me about his talk with the Sheriff... Honey, I knew we were all alone, then." Buck was quiet for a moment or two, then smiled at happier times.

"But, ya know, we still had a good life, Laura Beth. We didn't really need anyone but each other. But having your Ma and Chris around sure helped..."

Chris and Buck sat at by the barn, sipping some coffee and looking up at the stars and a full moon.

"The thing that gets me, Chris, is her being unable to walk much. She used ta could shimmy up that old oak out yonder like a monkey!" Buck chuckled.

Chris smiled in the moonlight, "Buck, she wasn't supposed to be able to walk at all. Be thankful for what you have."

Buck banged the back of his head softly against the wooden walls of the structure behind him, and closed his eyes.

"Yeah, but dammit Chris! She could run like the wind and climb like a kid and swim like a fish! She's miserable now, 'cause she can hardly... MOVE!"

Chris shook his head sadly, "Buck you keep looking at the 'can't's' in this situation. Ya need to focus more on the 'can's'."

Buck frowned at the thought, trying to surround it in his head, then turned to his best friend, "What?"

Chris grinned, "Try looking at what Laura Beth CAN do, at what she loves doing, rather than what she CAN'T do. I mean, some of the things she CAN do will make her happy."

Buck got a silly grin on his face, "Yup! Some things she can do are right fun, too! Why the other night we..." He stopped in the midstream of the thought, then laughed, "Now, I like ya Chris, but I'm still enough of a gentleman not to discuss EVERYTHIN' in front of ya!" Buck winked, and the two young men shared a laugh.

"Can she still ride?"

Buck laughed again, "Depends on what ya mean..."

Chris whacked Buck across the left arm with his hat, and chuckled some more, "I meant on a HORSE, farmboy!"

Buck grew quiet, but still wore the faintest smile on his face, "Her legs are too weak to climb in the saddle, Chris. It's still a bit much for her."

Chris sipped his coffee, and offered a thought, "Hmmm. It's a shame. I mean, she doesn't have ta CLIMB into the saddle. She only needs to GET in it."

Buck sat stone still for a moment.

"Damn!" he exclaimed and hopped up. "Chris," he whooped, "You're a genius!"

"Hmmm?" Chris asked, taking another sip of coffee.

"I got an idea!" Buck laughed as he danced a jig

Chris laughed at the memory, "I still get amazed at the things that go through that man's head!"

Chapter 9

"He built a WHAT?" Nathan asked. Ezra simply raised an eyebrow and looked at Chris skeptically, as one might view a person claiming to have had a vision.

Chris, rocked back in his chair at the Sandstone Saloon, and grinned at the memory.

"He built Laura Beth a ramp. A gently sloping ramp with special fixtures for fastening a horse," Chris said. "It allowed Laura to get on her horse without exerting herself too much. He planned it, designed it, and built it..."

Ezra chuckled, "I believe Mr. Larabee is understating his role in this construction project... It is highly likely that Mr. Larabee
fabricated the majority of said structure."

Chris grinned, "Nope. Believe it or not, this was all Buck's doing. While I was helping out with a wagonload of other tasks, Buck built Laura a ramp..."

"Oh, Buck!" Laura giggled with delight when she saw the ramp going from her front porch out nearly to the fence. Dusty, her horse, was dutifully tied out there, and she could see how easy it would be to get on him. Easing herself out on the ramp, she eased herself down at the edge into a sitting position, then swung her good leg over Dusty's back, then moved her feet gingerly into the stirrups. Unhitching him from a specially designed peg in the side of the ramp, Laura slowly brought Dusty to a slow trot around the front yard.

Buck was beaming with pride as Laura's smile grew brighter and brighter. She rode up to Buck, and motioned him nearer. As he leaned upward, she leaned over, and, taking his head in her free hand, she kissed him passionately.

After she leaned back upright, he urged her to ride some more. "I want you to be happy, Laura." And, she was!...

Buck smiled at the memory.

"Ah, Sweetheart! You always loved riding, and you had so much joy in your eyes with Dusty," he mused, "I'd have given anything if I could have given ya back what Corbin took from ya, but the pure pleasure of watching you ride was almost enough."

Buck grew somber, as he sat there, however. Not all memories of those days were fond ones...

Buck would not even remember, years later, what the spat was over. All he'd recall was that, in anger, she'd ridden off on Dusty, and was gone for hours. Buck wasn't necessarily worried about her skills; she didn't trust the strength in her legs enough for jumping, but she was now confident that she could still ride hard, if she chose, and enjoy herself.

No, the time elapsed was not what worried Buck... Dusty coming back riderless is what worried him.

It was the first real thunderstorm of the early spring, and it had the makings of a real whopper, having come up unexpectedly, as storms of this type usually did. When he heard the horse run up quickly, outside, he assumed Laura was headed for cover. When he saw Dusty returned alone, his heart stopped in his chest.

Now, in the storm, as it raged, rain and wind obscured vision, and he could barely see over a hundred feet in any direction, but, as also happens sometimes, he could feel Laura in trouble as sure as he was watching her. It was impossible with the whipping gusts to have heard her, but he heard her weakly calling his name as if she were standing right beside him... such was the incredible rapport the two shared. His heart lead him right to her.

About 300 yards from the Taylor's new ramp stood an old oak tree. Alone against the raging elements, it provided scant protection for the figure curled up underneath it. Buck's heart nearly froze when he saw her lying there, drenched and obviously cold in the fierce wind and rain. Lightning crackled among the trees nearby, and Buck knew this spot was too dangerous. He was afraid she might be unconscious, as he approached her, but she seemingly heard him and looked up at him as he came. She lifted her arms to him, and Buck scooped her up into his arms, and hastened back toward the house.

The old oak was one of Laura's favorite places, as the elm by the creek was one of Buck's. She climbed it, wrote under it, even watched stars at night from among its boughs. When she and Buck first professed love one for another, he had carved a heart with their initials within in the tree's bark. So, naturally, when she was thrown fom Dusty's back, she made her way as best as she could manage to her old friend, and waited for her love to come for her. Buck was thankful for the tree, where he shared his first kiss with Laura Beth Taylor. And, he nearly leaped from his skin when lightning split the tree in half after he got no more than 200 feet away from its trunk. He stood slack-jawed for a few seconds, thinking about what might have happened
had he not found Laura, then practically ran for cover.

After he helped her out of her wet clothes and into some dry bed clothes, covering her up in her bed for added warmth, he puzzled over her repeated whispers, "Please be all right... please be all right...", as she clutched her tummy.

"Darling," he asked, no small concern creasing his brow, "who are you asking to be all right? You're fine now, your Mom should be safe at the Sanford's place, and Chris is over in Culverton."

Laura's breath caught in her chest; she hadn't realized she was speaking out loud, but her breathing slowed, and she looked lovingly at Buck.

"Our baby, Buck... I'm praying that our baby be all right..."

Both of Ezra's brows shot skyward. "Baby?"

Nathan seconded Ezra's shocked expression, "Yeah... I thought that doctor said she couldn't have any kids."

Chris shrugged, "The doctor was wrong, in this case. But, that wasn't the whole problem. Laura Beth had suffered because of Corbin's bullet. She might not have been prevented from having a child, but bearing and delivering a young'un was going to be a tough row to hoe... She was weaker than she shoulda been, and falling off that horse probably didn't help anything."

Chris grew dark again as he sat there.

"And," he huffed, "there was a forgotten problem..."

"Corbin?" Nathan guessed.

Chris simply nodded. "He vanished for a while after the shoot out at the Taylors. We found out later that the old man had booted him from the ranch as a collosal failure, and that he took a few men and headed further west, toward California. Old Man Silas wasn't long for the world, however, and Jeremiah didn't plan to lose the family fortune to distant cousins. He bidded his time, returning home when a loyal member of his Daddy's hired hands telegraphed him as his Father's health sank."

Chris looked hard into his friends faces, "he meant business, and he didn't come alone. With the kind of money he had at hand, he was able to hire an impresive array of guns. But, we only imagined the kind of problems the boy would cause. We had no idea how bad things really were..." Chris took a long sip from his drink. "We found out though..." he trailed off.

"How?" blurted Nathan after a lengthy pause.

Chris shook his head slowly, "Remember how much I told you the Sheriff hated Buck and me?"

Ezra smiled, "It seems I recall your dissertation to that effect."

Chris took another sip, "Well, I knew we some serious problems when Stonemason came out to the Taylor place to beg us to become his deputies..."

Chapter 10

Chris took a slow draw from his glass, then lost himself in thought, momentarily. He shifted in his seat, as he continued his tale.

"Old Man Silas had a bad heart, and he suffered a terrible pain one day, falling down his stairs. Damn near didn't survive it. But, he did, if barely. One of Corbin's hired hands wasn't stupid, however. He knew it was only a matter of time until the Old Man dropped for good, then he and the others stood a good chance of losing their meal tickets. So," Chris shrugged, "he did what I might have done in his shoes... He telegraphed Jeremiah, out in San Francisco, and told him he needed to come take charge..."

Every hand stopped what they were doing to see Jeremiah and his procession come through the gates. At least 20 hard-looking men rode with him, and he had a stern expression on his face, as a man who had an advantage and planned to press it would. Silas wanted him tossed out on his ears, but Jeremiah just laughed at his father.

"Look around you, Pa. Who's dumb enough to TRY to toss me out of my own home?"

Actually, four men were dumb enough, but their bodies were swinging slowly from an oak tree on the back forty of Corbin land, testament to Jeremiah's foresight, ordering the act done while he was still a day and a half away. The hands who performed the deed were told their necks would do the stretching if orders weren't followed to the tee.

It seems they believed the threat.

Now, Silas' men simply waited for the spade to pat down the dirt over the Old Man's face, to watch as Silas' son took over the operation, to see what direction Silas' pup would take the ranch.

They didn't wait long...

Buck's eyes hardened in the darkness as he thought back on those days. He expressed his thoughts once more to his beloved Laura.

"He might still have been a coward, Laura Beth, but he was a good deal meaner than when he gunned you down. Oh yeah," Buck's voice trailed a bit, then grew again, "You remember Sheriff Stonemason, that pompus ass of a has-been lawman? He was scared stiffer'n a pine board when word got back that Jeremiah was at the Old Man's ranch with twenty new hired guns. I could almost SMELL the fear on him..."

"You want us to WHAT?" Chris asked incredulously, as the sheriff, white and shaking like a leaf, petitioned Chris and Buck, hat in his hand.

"My three dep'i'ties took off for the hills, and I can't say as I blame 'em," the older man said, "But, I can't just up an' leave... the
missus has put too much stock into our small spread to just give it up."

Buck tipped his hat back on his head, and grinned despite the seriousness of the moment, "Well, I don't see why ya don't just lose the badge," he leaned over to look closely on the tin star on Stonemason's vest, mock-reading the lettering there, "Sheriff. Way I see it, you got no reason to get killed over differences of opinion with your owner's son."

The sheriff reddened at the implication Buck made, but kept any angry retort to himself. To an annoying degree, Buck was very perceptive, and the over-the-hill peacekeeper had to admit he was bought and paid for with Corbin money.

"I ain't no damned farmer," the man said, without a trace of resentment in his tone.

Now, Silas Corbin was simply a pain-in-the-ass; in most accounts he was fairly honest in his dealings with folks, and, in a heavy-handed way, he was a boon to the community. But, Jeremiah was a powder keg with a lit fuse. It was only a matter of time until people around him started dying. Trouble became apparent the first time Corbin came into town with his roughnecks. Merchants were expected to cut prices for Corbin and his men, drinks were to be on the house at the Saloon for them, women were to be made available for them, and the newspaper, which had never been as "accomodating" to the Corbins, was ordered to sell out and close its doors.

When outrage over the demands began, Corbin's stock response was:

"My father and I have built this town up into what it is on the backs of our efforts and generosity. It's hight time the people here showed a little gratitude!"

"So," Chris mused, "the Sheriff came to see the only men he knew would stand up to Corbin, and asked for help."

"And?" Nathan asked.

Chris looked at the table, then looked up into his two friends' eyes with some regret... but no apologies.

"We told him to go to hell..."

Laura was starting to show when a group of townsfolk came to see Buck and Chris a couple of months later. Of course, despite some hard feelings between Laura and the other locals, the two men were a little more receptive with these emmisaries than they had been Stonemason.

And, the news was indeed grim.

"We buried the sheriff today," the banker said, flatly. Some of Corbin's hands had mistaken Stonemason's daughter, Susannah, for a casual roll in the hay after a night of drunken debauchery. The Sheriff might not have had much guts left, but he was still a father, and he intended to protect his little girl. The men were too drunk to care that Susannah was unwilling, and cared even less that Dad was the local law enforcement officer. They were plastered, and he still had a bit of speed left in him, so he was able to dispatch the five crudest and most dangerous, before the others stumbled away from his wrath.

The Sheriff protected his daughter, but Stonemason would end up paying for it with his life...

Buck was grim as he remembered.

"All he did was protect his little girl. He never provoked a fight; they drew down on HIM... every witness said so, later. It didn't
matter..."

Corbin stood in the Sheriff's office, dark faced and cruel.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find quality protection, you dumb bastard? To replace those five, I shall have to pay twice as much."

The sheriff was livid, "They were trying to rape mah daughter, dammit! I wasn't about to stand by..."

"If you had a brain in yer head, your daughter would steer clear of this town. You already know my men expect certain favors, and they will see any skirt as fair game," Corbin continued, "Stupidity on your part is no excuse. As I see it, the deaths of my men were avoidable, and you shall pay for it."

Stonemason stood stiffly, glaring at the younger man.

"What exactly do you mean, Corbin?" he growled.

"That's Mister Corbin to you, Stonemason. And, what I mean is simple... your daughter cost me five good men, so, you shall shall pay the four thousand dollars it'll take to replace them, or, your daughter... and your wife, if need be... will work off the debt."

Meaning sank in slowly as disbelief was hard to overcome.

"You... have G-GOT to be out of yer mind, Corbin," the sheriff stammered in barely contained rage. "Your men b-broke the law, and..."

"Whose law? Let me make myself clear, here. This town is mine..."

"Your father will hear about..."

"You better yell loudly, Sheriff, 'cause the grave is cold and the ears of the dead are deaf to the living."

Stonemason clamped his mouth shut, clear understanding showing in his eyes.

Corbin nodded, "That's right, you insufferable reprobate. Silas is dead and buried. Your precious job-protection is gone, and a reckoning for years of cash wasted on yer sorry hide is now at hand. You owe me, and I mean to collect."

Stonemason gulped, as Corbin's men spread out in his office, revealing their Colts as snarling dogs reveal teeth before a fight. These men, of course, were stone sober.

"Jeremiah... please!" Stonemason pleaded, "Not Susannah, for God's sake..."

Corbin narrowed his eyes, and a humorless smile crossed his face.

"Tell ya what, Sheriff... I'll give you one chance to make good. Killing you in cold blood would only draw trouble, and I suppose having your women-folk dragged off screaming might cause unnecessary problems for me later..."

He paced the office, the Sheriff watching in horrified fascination as the mind of evil worked in front of him.

Corbin stopped, and looked right in Stonemason's eyes.

"You shall call my men out into the street, Stonemason. This time, you will face the sober and decidedly more capable arms I have in my employ. IF you survive," he shrugged, "I'll consider your debt cancelled. If you die, well... I suppose that'll satisfy me that you gave yer best effort to pay up. It's that, or my men will make a workin' girl out of yer woman-child. Choice is yers."

Chris slammed his glass into the table.

"To his credit, Stonemason laid two of Corbin's men low in the street," he said. "There were eight present, however. The remaining six emptied their guns into his prostrate body. They tied him to horses, and dragged him out to his small stake. His wife and daughter were left to tend to digging the six by six by three hole that serves as every man's last home on this earth..."

Ezra and Nathan were silent for a moment, then the gambler spoke up.

"I take it that such a dastardly act of villiany did not go unchallenged."

Chris shook his head in the negative.

"Nope. When the townspeople came, Buck was a farmer, and I was simply a helping hand. When they left, the town had two new lawmen..."

Chris' eyes took on that unearthly blaze his friends had become familiar with, right before the Seven unleashed righteous fury on
their enemies. Both men shivvered a little bit.

"Corbin had it all wrong... there was a debt to pay, but he was the one who owed it. Buck and me..." he smiled that smile that chilled hardened hearts, "We went to collect..."

Chapter 11

Buck leaned back against the elm, eyes drifting out over the slowly moving water of the creek, moonlight playing softly on the surface. He willed backed the memory of his last days with Laura, and the fateful last encounter with the man who marred the center around which Buck and Laura orbited one another.

"Even when Chris and me planned to finish it with Corbin, you were my conscience, Sweetheart," the lonely man said softly into his pain."You kept me whole..."

The badge shined brightly on Buck's chest, and Laura knew without asking what the tin star meant. She had no smile on her face when she looked into Buck's gleaming eyes, but hers were filled with love for her man. From the depths of her love, she spoke to him, and cut straight to his heart.

"Buck," she said quietly, locking his gaze with hers, "Now comes the day you've been dreaming of: to put a bullet in Jeremiah Corbin..."

He said nothing, but the flair of his mostrils told her all she needed to know.

"Don't act innocent with me, Buck Wilmington. We shared more than a bed, and I know you better than you know yourself. You aim to kill Jeremiah, and you want to hide your murder behind that star."

"Don't you want justice, Laura Beth, for the things he's done?" Buck asked, disbelieving accusation coloring his question.

"I can live with or without justice, My Love. But what you want is a far cry from it," she answered flatly. She motioned for him to come closer to where she stood. She put her arms around his neck, and stared into his eyes... into his soul. "Listen to me," she said softly, "He ain't worth the price of your soul."

Buck tried to look away from her, but she damn neared wrestled him to keep his eyes firmly fixed on hers. He muttered, "If not me, then who, Laura? He has to pay..."

"Yes, Buck," she retorted softly, but with iron strength in her words, "And, he will. But, you are good, kind, decent man, a loving man. A man who values honor and justice. And I mean REAL justice. The man I love understands that that badge," nodding at the gleaming metal, "means something more than an excuse to get even on my account."

Buck said nothing, but some of the hatred for Corbin had faded from his eyes.

"Do you love me Buck?" She asked tenderly, touching her nose and forehead to his drooped head.

"You ask that at the damnedest times," he laughed softly.

"No, I ask it at the best times," she responded. He felt her warmth against him, and melted in her arms. He picked her off the floor gently, and kissed her deeply.

"I love you more than life, Laura. Sure as hell, I love you more than myself," he said in a whisper, looking passionately into her face.

She smiled faintly, and nodded. "Then, I want you to remember this. I'm proud of you, My Love. Proud that you think enough of me to be a lawman. But, if you truly love me, respect me enough to do this right. Be a lawman, if you must, but be a GOOD man, first."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he replied, "Laura, I may HAVE to kill him. You know that."

She kissed him. "If you HAVE to kill him, then you have to. But, don't kill Corbin because you WANT to. That is what separates you from the animal HE is..."

"...Be lawman if you must, Buck, but be a GOOD man FIRST!" she exclaimed as she held him fast against herself.

Nathan let out a low whistle.

"So, you and Buck always been fightin' against the odds. Guess you're used to it."

"Pretty much," Chris admitted. "We weren't about to get any help from the townspeople in Sandstone, so we were looking at about ten to one odds, against." He stretched, then paused in contemplation. "When the odds are stacked like that, you better rely on your brains more than your guns..."

The new deputy in town bragged long and hard at the Sandstone Saloon about the way he and the strapping young sheriff planned to ride right out to the Corbin ranch and drag Jeremiah back to stand trial for the murder of the old sheriff. Nervous glances shifted in his direction as he drunkenly spelled out the gameplan. Some of the patrons that day listened intently to his rambling spiel, and reported back to Corbin, as soon as possible.

The road heading into Corbin's spread was fairly hilly, and one hill in particular held a lot of attraction for the ambush-minded among Corbin's hired guns, as it was covered across the middle with thick brush. Corbin told his hired guns to send a few men out among that brush to provide a real welcome for Wilmington and his loud-mouthed friend.

Of course, that's exactly what Chris suspected Corbin might do, having closely surveyed the road in this direction. Once he was sure Corbin was taking this particular course of action, he and Buck began the first phase of a little war of attrition on Corbin's ranks.

Buck smiled as he sat there thinking of that day long ago. He still looked out over the creek, and laughed.

"Oh Laura, I wish you could of seen us. Chris and me gave ol' Jeremiah the pure dee devil that day..."

Corbin's men waited patiently, wondering what the hell was taking so long. There hadn't been any sign of those two wannabe lawmen since they were seen leaving town early that afternoon. The men were hot and tired, growing listless as the afternoon streatched toward evening, but Buck and Chris still failed to show up. They were on the verge on giving up and heading back to the ranch when a thundering sound came from behind the hill they hid upon. Curious they sent one of their group to check on the noise.

Pete Sampson never made it to the top before the answer revealed itself: Corbin cattle driven in a full stampede by two men who were usually paid to stop them. Corbin's hired guns didn't even have time to fire in Buck and Chris' general direction, as a tidal wave of beef swept over them.

Luckily for them, the cattle were reluctant, once they got to the brush, of just running through it, and it proved too high to simply
jump over. However, they crushed in close to the brush before they veered off to the left and right. The tired hands dropped their weapons and ran, when they could, and dropped to the ground trying to protect themselves when they could not. In a matter of seconds, the ambush was routed, and the two young cattle punchers had a few less bad guys to worry about. The group that could walk were rounded up shortly, and force marched back to town for lock up. Those who couldn't walk on their own were carried by embarrassed companions.

After locking up these few, Buck and Chris began the second phase of their plan.

It was well after dark when Corbin's stable caught fire, drawing every available hand to help save it. Most of the men were already tired from having to round up Corbin's scattered cattle. The hands responsible for the herd were nowhere to be found, and Corbin's "welcoming party" was also missing-in-action. It is generally true that tired men will make mistakes, and it is also true that people fighting a fire tend not to take guns to the bucket line. Such was the case this night.

Corbin himself was out helping fight the fire when the bunkhouse blew to kingdom come, carrying the bulk of his hands' pistols and rifles with it. He looked out with stunned disbelief over the panorama of distruction. It didn't take long for an idea to sink into his skull, however, and the pieces of a puzzle that troubled him came together with crystal clarity.

"Wilmington!" he hissed under his breath. Turning to his hired help, he ordered, "Mackey, take half the men, go to my house and find as many weapons as you can lay hands on, and spread out as much as possible. Wilmington and his sidekick are around here somewhere. Find them!"

Mackey wordlessly moved, taking several men with him. Most of the others continued fighting the fire at the stable, as some went to stop the fire from spreading from the bunkhouse. Corbin was irritated to discover that a very few men stood behind him, doing nothing at all but gawking. He turned to give these slackers a piece of his mind...

...and turned into a cocked pistol wielded by a very smug looking Buck Wilmington. Corbin lost strength in his legs as he stumbled and fell on his hind quarters.

"How?" was all he could manage in wide-eyed disbelief, as he stared at his fiery-eyed adversary.

"Best place to hide is out in the open, Jeremiah," Buck smiled, leveling the gun's unfriendly end at Corbin's nose bridge.

Some of the men made to move on Buck, but a rifle-toting Larabee moved out of the shadows and commented, "I wouldn't do that, boys."

Corbin felt bile-spitting hate rise in his throat. "So, Buck," he spat, "you finally get your chance.  Why don't you just shoot me now, and be done with it?"

Buck, glaring at him down the barrel, replied, "Don't think I haven't considered it, Corbin. You just thank your stars I'm not like you."

"You don't have the guts to pull that trigger!" Corbin sneered at him.

"Don't I?" Buck mused, and pulled the trigger...

Chapter 12

Chris sat at the table with Nathan and Ezra, shadows of the flickering kerosene lamps playing over his face. He still had that strange look in his eyes as he relayed the fate of Jeremiah Corbin, and both of his intently listening friends felt chill in their spines at the telling.

"In honesty, I could see myself gunning Corbin down like a dog, as he sat like a useless bump on a log. Especially after all the man had done, I'd be doin' a service to the community. But..." The black-clad gunfighter was silent for a second, as everything in the bar stilled with anticipation. Then, "...Buck and I were always fast friends, but he ain't like me. He gets mad, gets into fights, sure, but he doesn't hold grudges, and he really doesn't enjoy killin'. But, you shoulda seen the look in his eyes as he pulled that trigger..."

Corbin, in shock, watched the hammer fall. He closed his eyes and held his breath, wondering in that split second between life and death if there were anything on the other side of life's veil. He was still holding his eyes shut several seconds after an audible "clack" sounded on an empty chamber. He opened his eyes slowly, as angry murmmering sounded around him. Buck still held the gun a few inches from Corbin's face, but withdrew it suddenly and holstered it. A grim look of satisfaction played across Buck's features.

"Now you know what Laura feels every day of her life because of you," Buck said quietly.

When two men looked to move in Buck's direction, he pulled the second revolver out, stating, "Now this HERE gun is loaded, fellas. And, believe me, I will use it, if I have to." He aimed this Colt at Corbin, and told him to get up.

The time between Corbin's awareness of Buck and Chris to this point was all of fifteen seconds. Before long, Corbin's men would be out in full force, and some were bound to have found weapons, so, the two lawmen decided the best course of action was taking Corbin now, and leaving...

Buck paced by the edge of the water, humming "Yellow Rose of Texas" and remembering.

"Laura, we planned well. We knew we might have to shoot our way out, but we planned well. We actually got Jeremiah back to lock up with minimal shooting, BECAUSE we planned well. What we DIDN'T plan on was a lilly livered judge..."

Buck and Chris looked in dumbfounded disbelief as Judge Roy McCall released their prisioner and his men. Since no jury could be raised for the trial... everyone in Sandstone was either in cahoots with Corbin or terrified of him... it had to be a bench trial. And,
unfortuantely, it was decided by McCall that Sheriff Stonemason was shot in self-defense... by eight heavily armed assassins. And, since the only "witnesses" were owned by Corbin, there was no one to contradict the "overwhelming evidence" of self defense. Buck and Chris were chided for their "reckless harrassment" of Corbin, and we're told they were "damned lucky" they weren't relieved of their badges.

Corbin grinned slyly as he fetched his hat and headed for the door. He paused briefly to speak to Buck, "I'll be seeing you later... lawman." He laughed as he joined his men and rode away. Buck and Chris looked at each other.

"Well," Buck sighed in resignation, "maybe I shoulda just shot him when I had the chance."

Chris said nothing for a moment, but a knowing look was in his eyes when he did speak, "I have a feeling you might get another one..."

"The vagaries of life never cease to astound me," Ezra exlaimed as he sipped at his whiskey. "Take this libation, for example. A simple liquid made from the essence of grain and water, it gives such pleasure even as it robs a man of his good judgement." He downed the rest of it, then finished his thought, "Yet, when we consider that our careful analysis and hard work can be undone by fools in mere seconds, I wonder why we bother with judgement at all. Therefore, I say it 'tis better to drink, and forget about worry."

Chris smiled, "Do you really believe that Ezra?"

"No," the gambler replied, pouring another shotful, "but it makes as good an excuse as any to drink. And, as you know, next to drawing a straight flush against a large pot, there are few things I enjoy as much as a good drink." He grimmaced as he downed the rot gut. "What an intriguing vintage," he remarked sarcastically, "I MUST add a case to my collection."

The other two men chuckled at Ezra's wit, then Nathan turned back to Chris, "So, what happened then?"

The smile left Chris' face.

"We headed back to the Taylor place. Our advantage of surprise was gone, wasted, and we felt we had to gather Mrs. Taylor and Laura Beth and get them to safety. We'd already seen Corbin's attitude toward folks who crossed him, and we knew it was only a matter of time until he came for us."

Chris sat back again, then recalled those days, "It's funny, ya know? The Good Book talks about all things in their season... It just wasn't the season for Buck and Laura..."

Buck and Chris left their badges in town, figuring to move on. Corbin won, this time, and they weren't in the mood to fight it any further. Better far to cut loses and move on while they could.

The leaves were falling, as the season passed swiftly toward winter once more. Buck regreted moving Laura from her home, but it was time for living, now. home can be anywhere that love thrived, and a house was just a house without it. But, the two men knew something was wrong when they saw Sarah Tyalor frantically waving at them from the house. As they got closer, Sarah yelled out, "Get the doctor! The baby's coming!"

Chris didn't say anything. he took one quick look at Buck, turned his horse, and galloped off toward Doc Mason's. Buck rushed to the house to be with Laura. She wasn't well, and a complicated delivery was expected.

"Oh, but she was a beautiful girl, Laura. Just like her Momma!" Buck smiled as he knelt by Laura Beth's grave. "She took a lot out of ya, too. We couldn't move either of ya, and we were running out of time..."

Laura was sleeping fitfully as Mrs. Taylor carefully tended to the newborn. Buck and Laura didn't even have time to name her in all the commotion. It HAD been a rough labor, but Sarah helped her through it. Sarah cleaned the baby as Buck lovingly helped Laura get cleaned up and dressed, before carrying her to bed. It was still a half-hour before Chris and Doc Mason were to arrive.

Buck was tired, himself, and adrift in thought. The baby was nearly a month early, and couldn't have come at a worse time. Buck prayed nothing more would go wrong, as he and Chris moved everyone out of Sandstone. But, sometimes, though we might dearly wish otherwise, the answer to prayer is "No".

The sun was beginning to set as Buck cleaned up and headed back into the house. He started to close the door when he heard the unmistakable sound of hooves...

Chapter 13

;Buck stood at the edge of the creek, tensed, measuring each second in heartbeats, as he did on that fateful day, long ago...

Rain began falling, pretty hard, outside, as Buck rushed back inside. His eyes were wide and wild, like a trapped animal's.

Sarah knew immediately something was wrong. Buck was scared, and Buck didn't get scared easily. Sarah also wasn't stupid... since Buck was never afraid for himself, he could only be afraid for Laura and the baby. That meant trouble was upon them, and it had to be bad.

"Momma Taylor," he said, "take this rifle, and shoot anyone trying to come in here." He locked the doors and barred all the windows, as best as he could.

"W-what about Chris?" she stammered, holding the rifle as if it were a snake that he handed her.

"Trust me, Momma Taylor, he won't be coming through any time soon..."

He looked around. The house was small, and had only two windows. That was the good news. Also, there were only two doors, one on either end of a breezeway, which meant fewer directions to protect, but also meant his head better be pivoting the duration of the upcoming fight.

A voice, deep and male, called from outside, "Sheriff Wilmington!" The snide sarcasm dripped. "We'd like to have a word with you, sir, if'd you'd kindly step outside..."

"I can hear ya fine from right here!" yelled Buck.

"I imagine you can, Buck... but... uh.. me and the boys would prefer not having to yell so much!" the voice responded. The laughter rolling around told Buck what he needed to know. He could count only about seven or eight men laughing, which meant several were already working their way around the house.

He eased down the hall, and said quietly to Mrs. Taylor, "Keep ready, ma'am... they'll be trying to come in soon."

"Come now Buck," the voice returned, "we don't mean to harm the lady folk... we just wanna talk to ya!" Laughter sounded again, but Buck could see the shape of men through the two windows, men moving furtively.

And, the men were armed...

"Be careful, son!" Sarah said, as Laura woke up and looked around at Buck.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" she asked quietly.

"We have company, Laura," he said, easing over to pat her on the hand.

"Corbin?" she asked eyebrows arched.

"At least two dozen of his men, anyway," Buck sighed.

"Wilmington! We only want you," the voice outside reasoned, "You and that no good partner of yours. The lady folk are free to go on their way."

Buck fumed, "I'm afraid they can't leave just yet. Come back next week!"

"Sorry, I can't do that. If they can't leave, you just come on outside, and we'll finish things here. We'll leave them in peace!"

Sarah looked at Buck, "Do you believe him, son?"

"Not for a second, Momma Taylor. Corbin's not in the mercy business..."

Chris grimmaced, himself, as he downed his shot of red eye. "I was on my way back with Doc Mason when the gunfire started in the distance. Since the Taylor spread was the only one in that direction, I knew it could mean only one thing..."

Corbin's men had Buck and the two women pinned down inside, as several volleys were fired into the Taylor homestead. Laura had eased off her bed, and onto the floor with her quilts. She eased the baby out of her crib, to offer more protection. The baby, probably no more scared than the grownups, wailed in fear at the noise.

One man tried to knocked the front door in, but Buck shot a rifle through it, punching a hole in the man's chest. The men behind him moved away from Buck's apparent line of fire. With grim purpose, Buck turned the rifle in a steady arc between door and windows, but, desite his pounding heart, did not fire unless he had a clear target. He heard footsteps outside one of the windows, and pointed the barrel of his rifle in that direction. As soon as a body appeared in its frame, Buck shot it out again. Motion caught his eye from the other window and he whipped around in time to gun down another man running from cover toward the house. When another fell at the back door, Corbin's men realized that Buck had a better than average defensive position, and was not panicking. However, they also knew they had better numbers, and more arms. It was just a matter of time.

Staying away from the door frames proper, and out from the front of the two windows, the attackers moved to the house. In a coordinated assault, there should be no way for Buck to counter all of them. On the leader's mark, both door and windows were attacked...

"I knew what they were doing," Buck said softly, back to the marker, his fists clinched, and his head down. "There was just nothing I could do to prevent it..."

It was amazing that Buck did as well as he did. Time slowed to a near standstill in his head as both doors caved in at the same time. He rolled into the breezeway, stretching his arms in both directions, and firing his pistols once, twice... squeezing off the rounds, gritting his teeth... Sarah fired one rifle through a window, while Laura, covering her baby with her body, fired a spare pistol through the other. Men fell like the rain... but, like the rain, kept coming. Sarah was the first of the defenders to fall, taking a round through her right shoulder. Laura wheeled to put a bullet through the face of the man who shot her mother.

Buck fired until he ran out of ammo, then tried to roll back out of the breezeway to fetch his rifle, but took a shot in his left leg, a shot that passed through the flesh, but whose shock pulled him up short. Laura, in desperation, grabbed up the rifle and running to Buck's side... fueled by adrenaline... killed one man, but had another in front of her before she could get the barrel turned on him. In rage, she swung the butt up with enough force that, catching him under the chin, she snapped his neck, then turned to face the man behind him, swinging the rifle around. By this time, several men were in the house, and one of them, behind her, fired, catching her in the back. Two more men shot the gallant Laura Taylor, slamming her into a wall. They watched as she slid with painstaking slowness to the floor.

Through pain-teared eyes, Buck saw this, and tried to reach his love, when a pistol butt cracked him across the back of the skull, rendering him unconscious...

Wind whipped outside the Saloon in mournful tones, as Chris continued to relate what happened next.

"Doc Mason and I arrive at the Taylor place in time to see them drag Buck from the house. With my spyglass, I could see that they had his hands tied behind him, and were forcing him on a horse. One man threw a noose over one of the tree branches out front, as they looked to hang him."

Chris had lightning in his eyes as he sneered, "That wasn't going to happen while I was alive..."

"Doc, you sit tight," Larabee advised the man. "You'll be needed shortly to tend to Buck, and maybe the ladies inside the house."

"What are you about to do, Mr. Larabee?" he asked, visibly shaken.

Chris looked at the man with eyes that chilled the blood even in his youth.

"I'm gonna kill some men," he said with a casual calmness that belied the inferno in his gut.

He moved his steed with deliberation until he got close enough to be noticed, then he spurred his mount to full speed. Holding his bridle in his teeth, he drew his pistols and locked onto his intended victims with heartless eyes.

Corbin's men were so intent on hanging Buck, that they didn't notice Larabee until he was right on them. At full gallop he came, a born killer, and Corbin's men, although outnumbering him thirteen to one, felt fear. But, mercifully, not for long. Six men died in three and a half seconds as Chris mowed them down like winter wheat. Three others actually cleared leather before Chris plowed into them, trampling them under hoof. One man he wiped off a horse with a point blank shot to the chest, and another he defanged with a round to his mouth. The last two made as if to surrender, but he was having none of that, putting both men down with a terse response from his Colts. Buck lolled in the saddle, groggy from his blow and a loss of blood, but Chris eased him down, and, when he was sure no more threat existed, he waved the Doc to come.

Inside, Chris found carnage, where several of Corbin's men died. But, hard man that he was, his heart almost stopped when he saw Sarah and Laura Beth.

The baby cooing in her lap, Sarah gently stroked Laura's hair with her still useful arm. Laura was alive, but barely, with labored breathing, as she sat where she had slid. Blood was everywhere. Sarah looked up at Chris with tears in her eyes.

"Buck?" she asked.

"He's alive, ma'am," Chris said softly.

Momma Taylor looked with great pain at her daughter, and said, "You better fetch him, son..."

Buck feel to his knees beside Laura's grave, the old hurt overwhelming him. Head in his hands, he fell earthward, his sobbing robbing him of his voice. He lay by her final resting place remembering...remembering...

"Buck?" she asked looking up into his eyes. Her vision was blurring now, and she could barely speak.

"I'm here, Darling," he managed, holding her in his arms. His leg hurt like hell, but couldn't match the pain in his heart.

"The baby?" she asked, trying to move, to see if her infant daughter was OK, but unable. She was so weak.

"Our little girl's OK, Sweetheart. Fit as a fiddle, and ready for her Momma's milk," he tried to laugh.

Laura closed her eyes briefly, thankful that their child was alright. But Buck's pain was palpable, and, knowing she was not long for this world, she shed her love on him one last time.

"Listen to me, My Love," she said, "I don't want you pining over me."

He shook his head, not wanting to hear what she was trying to say.

"You ain't dying, you AIN'T!" he pleaded with her.

She smiled weakly, "You are a strong man, Buck... but even you can't hold me now." She was quiet for a moment. Then, breathing becoming ever more difficult, she said, "Our baby needs a Momma, Buck. I want you to promise me you'll find one. There's plenty of good women in the world..."

"If it ain't you, I'll never love again," he said softly, looking into her eyes, tears streaming down his face.

"Buck," she said, "don't say that. I'll always be with you in spirit, but don't let my memory rob you of happiness."

"I can't love another woman!" he sobbed.

With fading strength, she reached up and touched his face with her fingertips. He looked down at her.

"Well, then, Sweetheart, if you can't love one, love 'em all," she smiled, "I'd rather share you with the world than see you roam it loveless and alone. Can you promise me that much?"

He looked at her, already feeling her loss.

"Buck? Can you promise me that much?"

"Yeah, Laura... I promise," he said, not really intending to keep it.

Her breath caught, as her heart started to race. She felt so cold. And, she knew she had no time left.

"Come back to see me when... when you can, Buck..."

"I'll always come back, Sweetheart," Buck sniffed. "When shall I return for you?"

She smiled softly as her eyes clouded over, and she whispered, "Watch for the changing of the seasons... come for me when... the leaves..."

Then she was gone.

As the leaves fell in the rain outside, Chris almost swore he heard someone singing "Yellow Rose of Texas"...

Chris was solemn as he spoke, "Buck dug the grave in the rain and buried her by the old elm the two loved so much. I believe he thought he was burying his heart with her, but though it was broken, it could still feel ..."

The Saloon got deathly quiet as the two men entered... two men who should have been dead by now. Corbin's boys made up the patronage this day, as they did most days, since Jeremiah's return. They scanned the two wordlessly. They saw Buck's limp, but they were riveted by his eyes. He and Chris had matching gazes of living rage, and the blood slowly seeped from the onlookers' faces.

Chris half turned toward the barkeep, "You'd best leave."

Cyrus McMillen gulped and tried to reply, but Buck looked at him with clear intentions, "He said leave!"

McMillen never argued, departing with great haste, warning folks away from the front of the Saloon.

Within seconds, the sounds of slapping leather and cracking pistols sounded within. It was over in moments. Two men exited the Saloon... two men who should have been dead, but instead brought death with them. The banker caught them as they mounted their horses, outraged at their audacity.

"What do you think you two are DOING?" he demanded.

"About to deprive you of your gravy train," Buck snarled at him.

+ + + + + + +

Jeremiah Corbin read by the kerosene lamp on his desk. He waited patiently for the word that Wilmington and Larabee were dead, but felt that word should have reached him by now. He was startled to hear the frantic shouts and the gunfire from outside. There was a crash through a downstairs window, and then the front door gave way to someone's boot. After a second of quiet, footsteps came up the stairs, rounded the corner at the top then stopped at his opened door.

Corbin turned slowly, alarm rising. Wilmington and Larabee stood outside his door. Neither spoke a word. Corbin feigned a bravado he did not feel.

"You men have a lot of gumption walking into my home like this..."

"Stand up," said Buck.

"What?"

"Are you deaf, Corbin? I said stand UP!" Buck barked.

Jeremiah Corbin stood, facing the two gunmen.

"Am I then to be cut down like an animal?" he said.

Buck tossed him a gunbelt. It was the one he wore when he shot Laura Beth.

"They're loaded," Buck stated flatly, "Put 'em on."

"I thought the regular procedure was arrest, followed by a trial..." Corbin began.

"We tried that route, once. Didn't work. You ain't walking away from the death of my Laura. You just ain't," Buck fumed. Chris said nothing.

"But..." Corbin tried to plead, holding the gunbelt in front of him.

"I'm trying to give you a fightin' chance, Corbin. It's more than ya gave my wife. But, I swear before heaven that if ya don't face me like a man, I'll throw you slap over that balcony!"

Corbin stood silently, then challenged, "I don't believe you! You don't have the guts!"

Buck's nostrils flaired, but it was Chris who answered.

"Mr. Corbin, let me clue you in on somethin'. I ain't tied to Buck's moral code. And I promise you, that if you DON'T put on that belt, I WILL shoot you like a dog."

Corbin hesitated, trying to gauge Larabee, then decided the man meant it. He put on the belt.

"And," Corbin spat bitterly, "I suppose I have to face the two of you..."

Chris shook his head, "No sir. I'm here to see justice done, and honor upheld. If you win, I'll walk away and leave you be. But, you are going to have to be right to walk, this time." Chris nodded to Buck, then walked into the hallway.

"So..." Corbin said. Buck still seethed within, but he wasn't going to have to murder the man, after all. Justice would be done, one way or another, but it was going to be done.

"Your move, Corbin," Buck said, "you have one chance to live or die like a man, instead of the back shooting son of a bitch who shot Laura Beth."

The two men glared at one another for an indeterminable time. Then Corbin went for his gun. He cleared leather. He even aimed his piece in Buck's direction, and, for one brief instance, when he saw the relief on Buck's face, he thought he was going to send his adversary to be with his beloved Laura. But, the relief was for the fact that it was ended, and honor was upheld. Laura's death had justice, after all, not vengence. When Buck put a shell through Jeremiah Corbin's evil heart, it was not murder, and when the second shell slammed into Corbin's body, spinning him around and flattening him over his desk,
it was over.

Chris swished his drink, and looked over the table at his two friends, "Sarah Taylor got stronger, but didn't want to live in Sandstone any more. She'd lost a daughter and a husband to the west, and she'd lost enough. She persuaded Buck to let her raise Laura Grace Wilmington back east, away from the death she saw here, and even tried to talk Buck into coming east with her. He's been to Charlotte from time to time to visit, and Laura, now that she's a young woman, has written to say she'd like to come west to see her Dad." He shrugged at their startled looks, "Perhaps later this year, when the leaves fall."

Nathan and Ezra decided to retire for the evening, but Chris waited up. Buck paid his respects to his only real love, then mounted Beauty and rode to town. He found Chris sitting alone, with a bottle of whiskey, and two shot glasses.

"Pardner," he nodded, then sat down heavily.

Chris filled a glass, then pushed it across the table to his long-time friend. Buck nodded, then took the glass, starting to drink, but stopped. Chris frowned slightly.

"Somethin' wrong, Buck?"

"Nothin's wrong. I just wanted... to make a toast, Chris."

Larabee's eyebrows went up. "A toast?"

"Yeah," said Buck, as a gentle smile played across his face. "To the women we loved."

Chris smiled and nodded. "To the women we loved, and the lives they changed."

The two men touched glasses then drank down, and smiled silently, knowingly at each other. Outside, in the night air, leaves fell in the wind, and "Yellow Rose of Texas" was whistled merrily by a man returning from visiting his lady true...

The End