Magnificent Seven Old West
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RESCUED
Kidnapped

by Carol


"When's Chris gonna be here, Ma?" the little boy asked excitedly. Unable to contain himself, he ran to the window once more and peered through the panes, his blond head resting momentarily against the glass as his eyes darted up and down the street.

"Soon, Billy," Mary Travis assured him, smiling in fond indulgence at his 6-year-old enthusiasm. He was such a different little boy than the quiet, tormented waif he'd turned into when his father was killed. And no one deserved the credit more than Chris Larabee.

"My friend, Chris," was how Billy proudly referred to him. And Chris, so often guarded with adults, returned the child's affection unreservedly.

Mary, whose own feelings for Chris were still a confused jumble, felt almost envious of the rapport the two shared in their "man activities" of hunting, fishing or just sitting side by side whittling.

"Ya didn't burn it, did you, Ma?" Billy asked worriedly, rushing back across the room to the iron stove, where Mary was removing a golden-crusted loaf of bread.

Inside the oven, still browning, was the meal's star attraction, a plump jackrabbit Billy had killed all by himself - with a little help from Chris.

Billy was thrilled with his new role as provider, and Chris was coming to a special supper - just the three of them - to celebrate his hunting success.

"You know, honey, the storm could have held Mr. Larabee up," Mary gently reminded him as Billy returned to his post by the window.

Billy turned to answer but was interrupted as a knock sounded at the back door.

Billy flew across the kitchen to answer it.

"Billy, wait…" Mary began, but the little boy had already flung it wide. Mary grabbed a knife from the counter as a stranger grabbed Billy, imprisoning the little boy in his rough grasp. But a second man brought his fist down hard on her wrist, and the knife fell with a harmless clatter to the floor.

Cruel pressure of his hand across her mouth stifled her screams, and she fought the burly giant uselessly, frantically trying to see what was happening to Billy.

|A fist against the side of her head silenced her, and the last thing Mary saw before she blacked out was Billy's terrified gaze.

+ + + + + + +

"You'd better hurry. Mary's going to kill you if you ruin her dinner," Vin good-naturedly ribbed Chris.

Chris looked up from his work with a rare smile, which, Vin noted, even reached his eyes.

"I'd be there already if I could find some decent help," Chris rejoined, then tossed a hammer at Vin, who caught it with lightning-fast reflexes.

Strong winds had torn some boards loose from the stable, and Chris and Vin were repairing the damage in the fast-fading light.

"I don't remember volunteering for this," Vin complained with a look of mock exasperation. He hammered a nail into the board Chris held.

They worked well as a team, and the job was almost finished.

"I can see why," Chris remarked dryly as the former bounty hunter narrowly missed hammering his thumb.

"Mary will understand," Chris continued. "It's Billy I'm worried about. If I'm late for that rabbit he'll send a posse after me."

Vin pounded in the last nail and started picking up the tools, waving Chris off as he began to help.

"You better git just the same. I don't want Mary holding me responsible for making you any later than you are."

"Guess I'd better clean up a little at that," Chris said, brushing sawdust from his clothes.

Not long later he was on his way to The Clarion office, where Mary and Billy lived in rooms in the back. He hastened his steps as he realized he really was late.

Then stopped dead in his tracks. Wisps of smoke were leaking under the door, and Chris broke into a run, hurling his shoulder against the door. He didn't even feel the pain as it crashed open, and he fought his way through the smoke to the back rooms.

"Mary!" he shouted hoarsely. "Billy! Where are you?"

No, his heart pounded in his chest. It couldn't be happening again.

With a jolt of relief he realized the smoke was pouring from the stove, where the blackened remains of Billy's prized rabbit had turned into a charred mass.

Chris threw it out the back door and turned round to the kitchen once more, spying a small form on the floor.

Billy.

Chris cradled the little boy in his arms, carried him outside into the fresh air. Buck was suddenly beside him, as was Nathan.

Somehow sensing trouble, Ezra and J.D. came running around the back. Ezra went inside to make certain the fire was out, but J.D. just stopped and stared.

Stared at what Chris was looking at.

Billy, barely conscious, was bound and gagged, with a note pinned to his coat. A ransom note.

Chris looked up, his tortured gaze avoiding Buck's concerned one. Vin and Josiah were also there, and Chris swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, spurred by the need for action.

But he couldn't escape the thought.

Once again someone had needed him and he hadn't been there. Billy was hurt, Mary was taken. And it was all his fault.

If only I'd been there.

+ + + + + + +

Six of the seven rode into the night. Although Nathan had said Billy was more scared than hurt, Chris had insisted the healer stay with him. He would take no chances with Billy's life.

Darkness had slowed their progress, necessitating the need for torches to see the trail. To Chris, who wanted to ride hell for leather after Mary, their progress seemed painfully slow.

To Vin, the tracker, it was just the opposite. Unease gripped him as they ate up the miles, and as the moon passed its crest and began its downward journey he stopped the party.

"What?" Chris asked impatiently.

"Something's not right," Vin replied, gesturing at the ground. "These boys are leaving a trail my great-aunt Myrtle could follow."

"So, they're moving fast," Chris answered.

"It's more than that." Vin shook his head, perplexed. "It's almost as if they want us to follow them."

Chris, consumed with his inner demons, was in no mood to debate the matter while precious time was slipping away. His anger and frustration channeled themselves at Vin, who stared back squarely.

"When is that gold shipment due into town?" Josiah's reasonable voice broke in.

"Not till next week," Chris replied dismissingly.

"Yes. But when was it supposed to arrive?" Josiah asked, his deep voice laced with meaning.

That got Chris' full attention, and Chris and Vin broke off their stare to turn to Josiah. It made sense. If someone planned to hit the bank at Four Corners and steal the gold shipment, they'd want the town's protectors as far away as possible. Judge Travis had hired them. And Mary was the judge's daughter-in-law.

"We'll have to split up," Chris decided.

"I can go back with…"

"No," Chris cut Vin off. "If they change their minds about wanting to be followed, I need you to find their trail. I might lose them."

Chris was plainly torn. His duty was to the town. But he had a greater duty to Mary. He didn't question it. It was just a fact. He couldn't leave either.

His gaze found Buck's, his once partner, always friend, and now partner again.

"You can count on us," Buck vowed. You can count on me, his eyes promised. And Chris believed him.

"Take the rest of the boys back," Chris ordered, and the other man nodded.

"Be careful, pard," Buck told him. Then they broke - Buck, J.D., Ezra and Josiah wheeling their mounts and cantering back the way they'd come, while Chris and Vin continued on alone.

+ + + + + + +

The easy trail had disappeared into nothing - less than nothing - halting their progress until the dawn, when Vin could see the faint markings, subtle shifts and occasional bent blade of grass or crushed leaf that to him were as plain as a road map.

The two traveled slowly but steadily, making little conversation. Vin was concentrating on the trail, and Chris was intent on his own thoughts.

Privately, Vin worried about what they would find at the end of this particular trail. And if his friend could stand it when they did.

If the kidnappers had harmed Mary, Vin knew Chris intended to kill them. And Vin wasn't sure he could - or even wanted - to stop him.

Hell, if it came to that, he might very well do it himself.

+ + + + + + +

"Can I help you, sir?" J.D. made the most likely bank teller. But Buck, lounging nonchalantly against a table in the bank as he pretended to fill out a deposit slip, had to hide a grin as the kid went into his routine once more.

They'd staked out the bank all morning, and as another transaction went smoothly, Buck began to wonder if maybe they were on the wrong track.

For the millionth time Buck wondered about Mary Travis and Chris and Vin. So many things could go wrong, and he wanted to be there to help. But Chris wanted him here. And he wouldn't let him down.

Buck stiffened imperceptibly as a couple of cowpokes came into the bank. Looking without trying to appear that he was looking, Buck glanced out the window and saw a third man outside, standing by the group's horses.

This could be it.

"Can I help you, sir?" J.D., also sensing trouble, admirably kept his voice steady - even adding a touch of boredom - as one of the newcomers approached.

"Yeah. I want to make a withdrawal," the cowboy drawled.

"Do you have your account book?" J.D. asked.

"Right here," the man said, leveling a gun at J.D.'s chest.

"Y-yessir," J.D. squeaked. "Right this way." He motioned the bandit past the counter.

The other robber had his gun trained on Buck, who raised his hands, offering no resistance.

"That's it, boys. Just play it smart and you'll come out of this just fine," the first robber said. He followed J.D. toward the back, where the safe waited slightly ajar.

Shoving J.D. out of the way, the robber flung open the door, his greedy gaze expecting to drink in the sight of cash and gold bars. But the only gold he saw glinted in Ezra's smile as the gambler trained his pistol on him.

"Perhaps you'd be interested in making a deposit instead - such as your presence in our esteemed penal facility," Ezra drawled, before all hell broke loose.

The door to the bank opened and a woman, seeing the gunman holding Buck, screamed. The man began to aim his gun on the woman, and Buck launched himself at him, spoiling the shot of Josiah, who had thrown open the door of the bank manager's small office.

The first outlaw took advantage of the commotion and Ezra's momentary distraction to fling a stack of ledgers at him. He was bringing his pistol to bear but J.D. had retrieved his guns and came up firing.

"J.D., don't hurt the girl!" Buck warned from his place on the floor as he grappled with one robber.

The man outside grabbed the woman in the doorway, training his pistol on her.

"Come on!" he yelled, using the woman as cover as Josiah tried to draw a bead on him. He started backing out but stopped abruptly at the sound of a pistol being cocked and the cold feel of steel against his right ear.

"I'd rethink that play," Nathan warned, and the man quickly lowered his gun.

The one by the vault shoved past J.D. and out the back door, still firing.

Ezra, in pursuit, sucked in his breath at the pain as a bullet tore through his arm.

J.D. ducked under him and paused in the doorway, both guns blasting. The robber fell. By this time Buck and Josiah had subdued the last robber, and Josiah hauled him to his feet.

"Where are they?!" Buck yelled, ignoring the blood from his split lip as he gripped the outlaw by his lapels. "By God, you'd better tell me. Do you know you almost killed that little boy?!"

"Easy, Buck," Josiah cautioned, and Buck, though still angry, let him go.

"The other one's dead," J.D. came careening back inside, his voice laced with equal parts pride and guilt.

He'd be all right, Buck reflected. The kid, though green, was one of them now and kept proving his worth.

"This one isn't going to give us any trouble," said Nathan from the front doorway, his gun still trained on the bandit, who had surrendered his.

Nathan handed him over to Josiah so he could tend to Ezra, who stood holding his arm to stanch the blood that stained his shirt crimson.

"My best jacket," Ezra lamented, wincing as Nathan inspected the wound.

"You'll be fine once we get you bandaged," Nathan assured him, and they followed the others out of the bank and toward the jail.

"Where's my mama?!" Billy broke from Mrs. Cooper at the general store and came running up, his small fists pounding one of the robbers.

"Easy, pard," Buck soothed him, but his eyes were cold, silently daring the robbers to say a word.

"Someone looking for their mama?" a voice called, and they all looked up the street where two men and a woman rode up on horseback.

"Mama!" Billy called, racing up the road. Mary Travis was already off her horse and scooped him up in her arms as he flung himself at her.

"Oh, Billy!" she breathed in relief, holding him tightly through tears. "I was so worried."

The bruise where she'd been knocked out was the only sign of her ordeal, and she held him away from her slightly, making sure he was all right.

Vin and Chris watched the scene, more moved than either would admit. They dismounted and Billy grabbed Chris' hand, though still not surrendering his hold on his mother.

He stood on the street clutching both of them.

"I wasn't worried, Ma," Billy declared. "I knew Chris would come."

The End