Part Four

Shadows of Conspiracy

Things had changed in Purgatory.

When Vin Tanner had first introduced him to this little town on the edge of the border, Chris had been appalled by the way things took place around here. His opinion was based upon the fact that everyone who wanted a place to hide and disappear, at some point or another arrived in Purgatory. The main centre of commerce in the town had been based upon the requirements of those who preferred obscurity and anonymity. Thus there were businesses in operation in the open whose presence would not be tolerated in towns where good Christian folk were in residence. Cat houses with their ladies, painted and barely dressed in worn silk finery beckoned travellers as they rode through the main street. There were saloons where health standards did not exist and the rotgut sold could make a man blind if he was brave enough or desperate enough to partake of it, not to mention the sawbones who sought to pass themselves off as doctors.

It was the place where your boots were stolen off your feet if you should be unlucky to die in the street.

Unfortunately, as much as it was a den of villainy and lawlessness, it was also a melting pot of information. In Purgatory, people talked and the words they spoke was almost a commodity valuable enough to trade. On numerous occasions, Chris and Vin had found this place to provide answers where none could be found elsewhere. Usually received from Maria, a saloon girl whose acquaintance with Chris was both professional and intimate at the same time, she kept her ears open and often delivered reliable intelligence while being smart enough to ensure that she was not labelled an informant. Fortunately, she had spent enough time in the past with Chris Larabee behind close doors for the rest of Purgatory to assume his frequent visits were of a sexual nature.

However, as they rode into Purgatory this time, there was something strangely different about the place that was difficult to discern at first. Instead of the usual revelry, there was an atmosphere of gloom that seemed to constrict the usual colour from the town. Instead of drunken bandits roaming the streets looking for a fight, working girls visible for the eye to see, there was nothing but quiet that resonated through the dusty streets and made the new arrivals tense with unease.

"Is it me or is things a might quiet from what it usually is?" Vin asked as the continued towards the saloon where Maria was known to frequent.

"Something has spooked these people." Chris said, watching the apprehension in the eyes of those who lived here on a permanent basis. It took a few minutes from Chris to survey the place and discover what so different about it.

"You’re right." Larabee responded, his steely gaze discovering the same thing about the faces before him and even though he had never been to Purgatory before, he had seen enough ugliness in his life time to know what intimidation looked like.

"I don’t see anyone." Vin remarked, pin pointing it at last. While the locals could be seen, Vin could not see any signs of travellers like themselves. It was as if Purgatory had been abandoned and yet, there were horses hitched outside the saloons and brothels which was a clear indicator that someone was here. Suddenly, Vin was grateful that the general had forgone the uniform today and was clad in normal civilian clothing that made him look like any other traveller from these parts.

"Let’s find Maria." Chris replied, suddenly concerned about the Mexican’s welfare. Even though they had not been lovers since he and Mary had started their relationship, he still had a great deal of affection for the young woman who had offered him comfort and warmth at a time when he had sorely needed it. He was equally grateful that she had made it feel like more than just a paid convenience.

"She a working girl?" His father looked at him.

"Something like that." Chris answered, feeing uncomfortable about discussing Maria with him. It was bad enough that they had ridden from Four Corners without saying a word regarding the situation as it existed between them, keeping the conversation focussed on the job at hand. The last thing Chris wanted was for him to know about his previous dalliances as well.

Larabee nodded, having said nothing about his encounter with Mary the night before. Considering that he was going to turn up at Chris’ door this evening, the general was trying hard not to make things any worse. The boy’s wife was determined that they share a meal together and Larabee liked her enough to desire making that wish a reality. In truth, he was curious to know how his son was faring in Four Corners and getting on with his life after the tragic death of the daughter in law and grandson he had never managed to meet.

They dismounted off their horses and made their way to the open air saloon where Maria spent most of her time. The establishment was a mish mash of corrugated iron, crumbling brick walls and canvas but somehow it served as a saloon by the number of clients inside it at the moment was any indication of its success. The moment the trio entered the establishment, all eyes fell on them. Maria, who was at the bar, immediately rose to her feet and approached them with a wide smile on his face.

"Senor," she said loudly. "I have been waiting for you." Without allowing him to say anything else, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to him in a passionate kiss.

For a moment, Chris had no idea what she was trying to do and was about to push her away when her lips shifted furtively to his ear and whispered. "Play along, Senor. It is not safe here any more."

"Well its good to see you too," Chris understood and responded by returning her kiss, much to the astonishment of Vin and the disapproval of his father. Both were staring at him hard, unspoken in their reproach because of his marital status. Chris left Maria’s lips but kept his arms draped around her waist. "I told my friends here that you would take care of them." He said with a suggestive expression on his face for the benefit of those that might be watching.

"Of course I can Senor," she broke away from Vin and repeated the same seductive greeting by kissing the tracker on the lips and running her fingers through his dark hair. Once she had completed the performance, she pulled away and beckoned them with a smile. "Come with me, I have a room."

Saying nothing further but appearing as if they were here for a good time instead of information, the three visitors followed the sultry Latin beauty out of the saloon. Maria led then across the street towards a rather run down building which served as a lodging house where she had a room. Maria stayed close to Chris, continuing the facade as her arms remained wrapped around his waist while periodically exchanging kisses with him until they arrived in her room.

As soon as they were in the privacy of the small room that was furnished only with a bed, a wooden chair, bureau and a washstand, Maria pulled herself away from Chris. "I am sorry Senor." She said genuinely apologetic because she knew he took his vows of marriage seriously. "Things have changed around here."

"I’ve noticed." Chris frowned wiping the red colouring on her lips from his face before he went home with it and had a great deal of explaining to do. "What’s happened here?"

"I ain’t seen this place so dead in all the times I’ve been this way." Vin remarked as he eased onto the bed.

"People look scared." Larabee agreed, walking toward the window and parting the curtains wide enough to look outside. Thanks to Maria’s bit of play acting, their presence here had not garnered any unwelcomed attention but he would still like to know what was happening to frighten locals to such an extent. With all the violence that was commonplace in this kind of community, it had to be something considerable to shake their jaded foundations.

"They are scared." Maria swallowed. "Ever since these men rode into town, the word has gone out that Purgatory is no longer a safe haven."

"What men?" Chris asked, joining his father at the window, trying to see what Maria was talking about.

"They came about two weeks ago and they’re run out of town everyone who is not one of their number." Maria explained. "Those who do not leave are killed."

"How many of them are there?" Chris asked, knowing that it would take a few men to create this kind of intimidation, especially in a place like Purgatory which was mostly frequented by hardened outlaws.

"Enough to chase every hombre out of town. They have not left and they make sure those who are not of one them do not stay for very long." She shivered. "That is why I had to bring you up here. If they saw me talking to you like we always do, I think they would hurt me."

This troubled Chris a great deal. He did not like the idea of Maria being in danger because of them. "Do you have any idea who they are or what they want?" He asked again. He could see the men in question through the dirt clouded glass of her window and had to admit, they did not look at all like the regular cut of visitors who came to Purgatory. There was something in their manner that indicated that there was more to them then just laying low in this locality. It almost felt as if they were waiting. Chris wondered if what they were waiting for was nitro.

"I do not know," she shook her head. "But they remind me of soldiers." Maria volunteered, unafraid to show that these men frightened.

"Not soldiers," Larabee glanced at Chris and then Vin. "But they are definitely from an army of some kind."

"You think these men are from Julius’ shadow group?" Chris turned to him, unable to deny that the thought had crossed his mind also.

"This would be a good a place as any to hide out and wait for orders," Vin commented. "If these are the same bastards that came after us at the ranch." The tracker’s dislike was obvious and Chris knew that he was itching to give the men who had shot Alex some well deserved payback.

"Which mean," Larabee said grimly. "We ought to get out of here."

"Not yet," Chris declared. "If these are Julius’ men, they might know where he is. Or at least what his plans are."

"This isn’t the time to get that kind of information." Larabee countered. "If these are the same men who came after you and your friends, they’ll know you on sight and shoot us before we can get out of town. We need to leave and send someone they haven’t seen who has a reason to be here other than looking for information."

Chris and Vin looked at each other. "Ezra."

"The gambler?" Larabee asked, remembering the southerner in the fancy burgundy coat and could agree with that choice. Although he stood out in a crowd, there was no way one could mistake Ezra for a lawman unless they knew him personally. Ezra had a better chance of infiltrating their number and getting information than anyone else in the seven. "That could work."

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "He’ll bitch some about having to do this but Ezra knows how to get people to talk."

"And I will keep my ears open for you." Maria added, always willing to help.

Chris turned around and faced her immediately. "Not a chance." He replied. "I know you want to help and I’ll be glad if you’ve got any new that comes your way but don’t go searching for it. These bastards are willing to kill anyone who gets in their way. I don’t want you hurt."

Maria blushed, rather touched by Chris’ concern for her. "I will be fine, Senor." She offered him a grateful smile, feeling pleased that there was someone who cared for her as more than a piece of flesh he paid for and felt singularly envious of the woman who had captured his heart.

"He is right ma’am." Vin replied. "They had no trouble shooting a woman. Cross them and they’ll kill you."

Maria conceded defeat at last in the face of that ominous advice and nodded. "Gracias," she sighed. "But you should leave now. There are people here who know who you are and might tell them."

"She’s right." Larabee answered and then he looked at her. "You have some place you can go?"

"Si Senor," Maria nodded. "I have friends who live out of town."

"Good," the general showed his relief with short escape of breath. "I suggest you go there and we make tracks. They don’t know why we’re here, let’s not give them a reason to get suspicious."

Chris did not like running out of town like a bunch of outlaws however, if there were as many of Julius men’s in town as they suspected, then staying was around was ill advised and likely to get them all killed. More over it was highly likely that Bellison was in town and the moment he saw Chris, he would set his entire horde of fanatics upon his hated enemy and not even Chris wanted to face those odds. He did not mind the dying but going out of this world with Bellison and Julius still living was something that did not at all sit well with him.

"Alright," he sighed forced to agree that the general was right. "Lets get the hell out of here."

***********

"This is getting us nowhere." Buck said emerging from the jailhouse and leaving Markham within the building to deal with the prisoners they had been interrogating most of the day. Despite their best efforts to burrow through the stories of all men employed by Bellison to get some idea of what Julius agenda might have been with the nitro glycerin he had hijacked a government train to acquire, little or no information had been garnered that was of any value. Even though Markham was steadfast in his belief that persistence would win the day, Buck had long past that opinion and formed a different theory of his own.

"They ain’t talking?" Josiah asked as he sat on the foot of the steps leading to the jailhouse, smoking a piece of cheroot.

"Not a word." Buck frowned as he sat down heavily next to the preacher who had guard duty as per Chris’ orders. While it appeared that the men inside the jailhouse may be nothing more than hired hands on the surface, with the possibility that they might be dealing with fanatics brought forward, Chris was taking no chances. If they believed for a cause strongly enough, they might be willing to die to defend it or at the very least, say anything in its protection. Until it could be established that the prisoners were any more than what they were, Chris’ orders were to be that they remained in jail indefinitely.

Colonel Markham seemed to be in agreement with the younger Larabee’s assertion and wished to question the men himself, not voicing his opinion that he felt he would have better success than a group of gunfighters. While Buck took no offence to his unspoken allusions, he had to agree that it was sensible to conduct an in-depth interrogation, in case there was anything to find out. Thus he sent Ezra, Nathan and JD ahead, with every intention of joining them now that their efforts here had proved fruitless.

"If they know anything," Buck sighed casting his gaze across the busy street and enjoying the mild heat of morning sun on his face as he tried to shake the knot that that formed in his stomach ever since he heard about Bellison and by extension, Julius. "They ain’t saying or they’re hiding it well."

"You think they’re lying?" Josiah asked.

Buck Wilmington could be a paradox at time. While he tended to project an image of being a well meaning, good natured oaf, there was an intellect that read people with extreme clarity and a deep sense of compassion to those who were emotional wrought and needed friendship. There was something of the crusader in Buck because he felt the need to salvage even the most ravaged psyche while at the same time nurturing the ones that needed guidance, JD for instance. In truth, Buck’s concern towards JD was more fatherly than it was as a friend and the boy who by all accounts, had not know his father, benefited greatly from it and convinced all of them even before Buck knew it, he would be a great father. Buck’s empathy made him quite astute at reading people and if he believed that Bellison’s men were insincere then Josiah believed it as well.

"They could be." He sighed. "There’s something about them that don’t sit quite right about with me. Sure, they don’t want to get blown up but maybe they gave up because they didn’t want nothing to happen to the nitro."

"That’s might be," Josiah had to admit, since the possibility had not arisen and he had to agree that the prisoners had given up easily enough for their motivations to be suspect. Although by that same token, seeing a wagon being obliterated by an explosion the likes of which had not been seen since God smote Sodom, might also be a compelling factor to surrender.

"I think Chris is right about us keeping them here indefinitely," Buck answered. "No telling what they might do if we let them go. They might just turn around and try to get that shipment back."

"When is the army meant to be here?" Josiah inquired.

"According to the Colonel, they’ll probably be here sometime today." He replied, wishing they knew more about what Julius was planning. Buck did not want to voice a further concern which he wondered Chris had considered since they had run into Bellison. It was mostly because of him and Chris that Julius and Bellison had been drummed out of the army and into a military stockade for god only knew how long. If the man was vengeful enough to shoot Chris in the back, he would no doubt have harboured a great deal of thought on the subject of revenge during his incarceration. Now that Bellison had seen Chris and possibly Buck, he would have no doubt brought that intelligence back to his master who might be inclined to exact his revenge now that he knew where the object of his hatred was residing.

"What’s troubling you Buck?" Josiah inquired, able to see the worry in his eyes, despite Buck’s attempt to hide it.

"I’m just wondering whether I ought to get Inez and the baby into town for a few days, until this blows over." Buck responded, feeling a little embarrassed about bringing up the subject because he did not want to seem overly paranoid. However, he could not dispel the feeling of fear that they were wide open to attack out there on the homestead alone.

The preacher met his gaze and saw that there were real fears in his eyes. "You want to tell me about it?" There was more to his worries than just the nitro, that much Josiah could tell. Buck Wilmington was rarely tense about anything and the responsibilities of being a family man were still new to him so he had not yet learn to hide it as well.

Buck had not thought about the unsavoury events that had transpired at the tail end of the war that coincided with his first meeting with Chris Larabee. Indeed, Chris professed no desire to speak of those days particularly in light of what Julius’ bullet had almost done to him. Buck had stayed in the field hospital with Chris as long as he could before he was shipped back to the unit with the rest of the men. However, he had gone reluctantly because he could not forget the terror he had seen in Chris’ face until the first sensations returned to his legs and it was not something a man could ever forget which was why he suspected Chris did not wish to talk about it.

"I was mostly responsible for what happened to Julius after he shot Chris. When the rest of the men heard the gunshot, they were scattered around the place, so they didn’t see it happened. Bellison was more than ready to cover up for him and Julius was about to blame it on some non existent Reb sniper. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that so I told them what really happened. Chris saved all our butts and I wasn’t about to let him die and I knew Julius wouldn’t let us take him to a field hospital to save his life. So yeah, I told the rest of the men that Julius had shot Chris in the back for keeping us alive."

Josiah did not need to hear the rest of the tell since he had a good idea what happened next, not simply because the tale had been related to them the evening before but because Chris Larabee had the tendency to inspire the loyalty of those who rode with him. Josiah could just picture a young Lieutenant Larabee taking charge of the unit when Julius had given his deadly instructions and circumventing them to engender a more favourable outcome. He could also picture the men whose lives he had saved being incensed at how he had been rewarded for his determination to save them.

"I didn’t have to say anything for them to lay into Bellison and Julius, just the truth." Buck continued. "They would have torn him a part if I hadn’t reasoned with them that we had to get Chris help. We marched of the line to get Chris to the field hospital and even then we weren’t sure he was going to make it."

"How bad was he hit?" The preacher inquired, unable to deny his fascination at hearing this story because it went some way to explaining why Chris had such aversion to shooting anyone in the back.

"Pretty badly," Buck said quietly, remembering the sheer panic that had been on Chris’ face when he had first woke up after being unconscious in bed for almost three days. "He got shot in the back and the doctor’s weren’t sure at first that they could keep him from being crippled. I think all up, he spent two months getting better and the first two or three of those weeks, he had not feeling in his legs. I don’t think I ever saw him that scared, ever."

"Thing like that would scare anyone," Josiah had to admit. A man in this day and age was defined by whether or not he could stand tall and Chris had too much pride in himself to settle for less. Josiah could appreciate how terrifying those two weeks must have been for Chris as he lingered between not knowing if his life as he knew was over and unable to imagine how to cope if it was. The preacher would not wish that limbo on anyone.

"It sure scared Chris and the army threw the book at both Julius and Bellison." Buck revealed. "I’m thinking if Bellison saw Chris and maybe me too, they might get it in their heads to get some revenge."

Clearly, this had unsettled Buck and having experienced the ferocity of the enemy’s attack first hand, he could understand why Buck wanted to protect his family from such men. They had no aversion to shooting down women as witnessed when they had gunned Alex down. The only reason the doctor had survived that onslaught was because Vin had been present. It hollowed the preacher’s inside to think what would happen if Inez and little Elena Rose were left to the ministrations of such savagery. Bellison had cause enough to deliver that kind of blow just to get his revenge.

"Better safe than sorry." Josiah answered and thought quickly on a course of action. "I’ll go talk to Miss Julia, I’m sure she wouldn’t have any trouble riding out to your place and get Inez and the baby in town."

"Thanks Josiah," Buck broke with a smile, clearly relieved because he had an obligation to join the others who were at Nettie’s keeping watch on the nitro. "You think Julia will mind?"

"I don’t think so," Josiah answered, knowing that the young lady had a soft spot for him and that allowed him a little mileage to exploit her affection for a good cause. Besides, he could see the indecision assaulting Buck as he deliberated between whether or not he was being overly cautious in his concerns or neglecting his family. Josiah was hoped his solution helped a little. "You know women, they love any chance to go visiting."

Buck was going to agree most vocally since his spirits had picked up a little when Markham emerged from inside the jailhouse looking just as frustrated as Buck had been during his attempt at interrogating the prisoners. The colonel paused at the steps before the two men and tried not to show his annoyance at his failure.

"How did go Colonel?" Buck asked innocently, perfectly aware that Markham’s effects had been negligible.

"Not so good," the soldier frowned unhappily. "I swear those men are extremely practised at being evasive. If I didn’t know better…." The thought faded from his lips when he realised he had not a shred of proof for his beliefs, no matter how strong a gut feeling he had.

"You’d say they were lying?" Buck finished the sentence he could not complete.

"You got that feeling too?" The soldier asked with a little smile.

"I do." The lawmen nodded. "I think that we had better lock them up tight because there’s too much about them, we don’t know."

"They could be Citadel members." Markham sighed, wishing he had something more concrete because he had spent a lifetime adhering to facts, not supposition. Being in military intelligence demanded such precision because lives could be lost on hearsay and what ifs. "However, the ones we’ve encountered are extremely violent men, easily provoked into speaking their mind. At least all the ones we’ve ever managed to get our hands on."

"Have there been many?" Josiah looked at the colonel who was not much older than him but seemed bland and featureless. Markham could disappear into a crowd and remain hidden indefinitely if he liked and Josiah had a feeling he spent much of his life fading into the background to uncover secrets.

"Enough to know that Julius is getting quite a following." The colonel said grimly. "For the last two to three years, he has been gathering momentum. He gets them in with all this idealism and unity of man but he keeps them in through violence. Those who stay are the fanatics and a whole army of fanatics is a nightmare I don’t want to imagine becoming reality."

"Funny how reasonable men who believe in freedom and justice and all the good things in life are willing to murder if they believe any of that is under threat." The preacher remarked.

"Well Julius ain’t no believer in any of those things." Buck said rising to his feet. "The only thing he believes in is seeing how many men he put in the ground to be called a hero."

"The most dangerous thing of all," Markham added with a dark expression on his face. "Is he truly believes it."

**********

Mary was nervous and knew she had good reason to feel this way considering that in less than half an hour or so, the general was going to come knocking on the front door for dinner and she had yet to tell Chris that they weer having a dinner guest. He returned home less than an hour ago, determined to be present at the evening meal for which he had been absent the last few days. His effort to be home was as much to do with spending time with his family as it was to make it up to Mary for their quarrel two nights ago. As Mary put the finishing touches on the meal and the kitchen oozed with the aroma of all sort of savouries, she wondered why it had not occurred to him yet that there might be a reason for her efforts in the kitchen.

Well, he was a man after all, Mary sighed.

Mary had stepped in to the dining room and where she had laid out the good cutlery and crockery with Billy in assistance while Chris cleaned up for supper, unaware of the surprised she was about to spring on him and hoped he would not be too angry with her. Although she had wanted to tell him this morning, the unhappy expression on his face at having to ride out to Purgatory with his father was deterrent enough for her to postpone her news until later today. Unfortunately, she had not found the opportunity or for that matter, the nerve when he had come home either and now, with the eleventh hour was fast approaching, telling him was going to be a redundant gesture.

"Ma, why are you setting another place?" Billy asked as he helped her with the setting of the table as it was one of his chores to perform prior to the ritual of supper. During the days before Chris had become a permanent member of the household, it was one of the things that Mary had no idea Billy delighted in doing with her. In his mind, it was the one chore that he would take great exception to being usurped and told himself repeatedly he would have to point this out to the new baby when it arrived.

"Quiet Billy," Mary said gently, looking about apprehensively in case Chris would have overheard the question. Of course it was impossible that he could since at the moment, he was in the upstairs bedroom, getting a bath and discarding his dusty clothes for fresh ones. "It’s a surprise for Chris."

"A surprise for Chris?" The boy’s face brightened. "What sort of surprise?" He asked excitedly as he was with anything relating to his adored stepfather.

"We’ve got a guest coming." Mary answered, keeping her voice down and telling herself she was being ridiculous since Chris was nowhere in hearing distance. "But you can’t tell Chris until he gets here, promise?" She looked at her son sternly.

"I promise." He nodded, his tiny chin wrinkling with decision not to betray his mother’s trust.

"Well if you promise," she looked at him, running her hand across his cheek. "Tonight we have a very special guest coming to see Chris. Its’ Chris pa."

"Chris’ pa!" Billy exclaimed before he remembered it was a secret and quickly whispered in a lower voice. "Chris has a pa?"

"Yes he does," Mary answered, lowering herself so she could meet her son eye to eye. "Now Chris hasn’t seen his father in a long time and it might be a bit of a surprise to him so you mustn’t tell Chris that his father is here until he arrives. Can you do that for me?" She gave him the look she did whenever she required him to do something important for her.

"I can do that ma," he beamed and continued setting the table without a care in the world.

Mary envied the bliss of youth and gazed apprehensively at the ceiling, wondering if she were not perhaps over reacting a little. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Although Chris had not come out and said it, she was certain that he wished things were different between his father and himself. All Mary had done really, was to give the efforts towards reconciliation a little nudge. There was no great sin in that. In fact, if one really looked at it, it could be said that she was doing a good thing, a true test of love for her husband. That’s what she had done, proven her love for Chris and he could not be mad at her for that surely?

Then the door knocked and Mary’s first thoughts were; I’m so dead.

*********

"Mary!" Chris Larabee sang out at the top of the stairs as he heard the door knocking. "Someone’s at the door."

When the second knock was heard and she had yet to answer it, Chris decided that since he was on his way down, he might as well get it anyway. Hopefully, no great catastrophe had taken place since his return from Purgatory that would require taking him out of his house for the evening. Chris was feeling badly that he had been away from home this past week and looked forward to spending an evening with Mary and Billy. Although he had promised himself to never neglect his wife and son, now that he had them again, Chris had to adhere to his responsibilities to Four Corners and unfortunately, that meant that he would never truly be one of those men who could be home for every supper.

Since Mary had yet to answer the door and was no doubt in the midst of dinner preparations, Chris hastened his descent down the stairs. However, it was not very long before he heard Billy running down the hallway to open the door. Chris relaxed his pace and reached the foot of the steps when he heard a familiar voice addressing Billy at the doorway. Chris froze in place as he forced himself to complete the journey, not wanting to believe what he was hearing but could offer his mind no other explanation.

"Ma said you were coming...." Chris heard Billy greet the new arrival and swallowed when he heard the response.

"You must be Billy." The general’s voice answered and Chris who had yet to be seen by his son or his father, stood in the shadows, trying to discern what the man was doing here before his mind wrapped itself around the only possible way this could happen.

Mary.

Chris took a deep breath and did not bother to greet his father as the door, since Billy had taken care of that already. Instead, he tried to rein in the fury that was bubbling to the surface and strode towards the kitchen where his dear wife was presently putting the finishing touches to supper. As he passed by the dining room, he saw the table set with table cloth and the good china Mary only used for guests and smouldered as his suspicions were confirmed. Part of Chris could not believe how she had gone behind his back and done this and then another part of him was hardly surprised because it was just the sort of thing Mary would do and probably because she thought that it was the right thing to do. Weighing in all these factors in the seconds before he reached the kitchen did something to alleviate his extreme displeasure at what she had done.

Mary was in the midst of pulling off her stove mitts when he entered the room and she swallowed visibly in expectation of his arrival, as soon as she had heard the door knocking.

"Something you want to tell me?" He looked at her hard, telling himself over and over again not to say anything that he would regret.

"That depends on how mad you’re going to get." She offered meekly.

"It’s gone past that now." Chris retorted folding his arms and bearing down on her with that sharp gaze which made her feel like a little girl caught in the act of perpetrating some childish bit of mischief. "So you might as well tell me."

"Chris," she responded, refusing to be intimidated by him. "He is your father. It’s only the proper thegn to do. You don’t let family come to town without even inviting them to dinner. I thought it would be nice for Billy to meet his grandfather." It was a lame excuse and she knew it but it seemed a great deal less provocative than telling him he was being a pig headed idiot.

Chris straightened up instinctively and came towards her. "You had no right to do this." He growled in a low voice. "What’s happening me and my father is between us, not you."

"I am your wife." Mary returned just as sharply. "When I married you, I accepted everything in your life to become part of mine, including your father. He’s not just apart of your family, he’s also mine and I will not allow this petulance to continue. I asked him to join us to dinner because I thought you were adult enough to at least sit across the table from him for a meal. Was I wrong?"

"No you weren’t," Chris grumbled, knowing that she was right but refusing to forgive her nonetheless. "I’ll go out there and I’ll be polite but when he goes, we’re going to have some talking to do."

With that, he left the room with Mary letting out a sigh that could not really be called relief since she was not out of trouble yet and had more or less received a stay of execution for the time being.

"Well," she said quietly to herself. "At least he didn’t take it badly."

*********

There were a thousand places Chris Larabee would prefer to be at right now. He could even endure being in that illegal prison where he had been held captive and called Inmate 78 again, just to avoid being at the head off this table, facing his father over a meal for the first time in almost 21 years. The general was in uniform, much to the delight of his new grandson who fired away question after question at him in typical childhood ignorance of the awkward mood. The general seemed amused by the questions and answered the young boy with good natured warmth despite the icy reception he had received from the child’s stepfather.

Chris and Mary had hardly exchanged words but Mary could tell his anger had not abated for he was still glaring at her that smouldering gaze that indicated that he was intensely angry with her and was keeping his temper only because they had company. Whether or not, the general noticed the discourse between husband and wife was unknown to her for he did not make mention of it. Finally Mary tired of the silence and decided that she was not going to make her guest feel unwelcomed just because her husband was behaving with less maturity than her eight year old son.

"So tell me General," Mary said in between bites of her meal. "What exactly do you do for the army?"

Larabee had noticed the enmity between his son and his wife. Judging by the look on Chris’ face which he knew from years of experience to be the usual mask worn by his son when sulking, he assumed that she had not told Chris about his arrival until he appeared on their doorstep. Still, she was trying so hard to make the evening move smoothly that he would not make it any more difficult by bringing up a topic that would trigger his son’s seething temper.

"Military intelligence." Larabee answered.

"That sounds dangerous." Mary declared although she could well believe that he was able to fade into the background whenever he liked. He had once of those faces that could be many things when it needed to be.

"It can be." Larabee answered. "During the war, I spent a great deal of time behind enemy lines, gathering information on Confederate troop deployment. These days, I merely oversee threats to internal security of the nation, keeping an eye on groups like the Ku Klux Klan and smaller militant cells that have sprung up."

"Yes," Mary nodded, remembering just how prolific the Klan could be when its members were properly motivated. "We had an unfortunate case of that some months ago."

"They come and go." The general placed his fork down. "It was much easier in the old days, when we knew who the enemy was. Now they could be anyone. They’re in our towns, riding down our streets and unfortunately in our schools. In Indiana, you have left over abolitionist movements from the war who don’t believe our present policies toward the coloureds are much better from when they were in slavery. Allison Bradley married one of them." Larabee glanced briefly at Chris. "You remember Allison don’t you?"

Chris shrugged, remembering the young woman well and narrowing his eyes as he glared at his father for bringing her up. "I remember."

"After you didn’t come back from the Point, she married a school teacher. He was into the movement heavily. It ended badly." Larabee continued, digging into a succulent morsel of food as he waited for Chris to answer, almost daring him to respond in an unspoken challenge.

"I had my reasons." Chris said quietly, aware that they were inching slowly towards the reason at the heart of their 21-year separation and he was fighting the journey there every step of the way. It was taking every inch of control he possessed not to leave the room however, conditioning to behave in front of his father was too difficult to break, even though he was a grown man in his own home.

"I’m sure you did." Larabee remarked shortly, not wishing to have their confrontation in front of the child who was somewhat confused by his elders’ behaviour. "Madeleine retired to Virginia a few years ago."

"Madeleine?" Mary asked quizzically, trying to steer past the moment to smoother waters.

"Yes," the general nodded. "She was our housekeeper since Brigid passed on. She more or less helped me raise Chris after his mother died."

Mary glanced instinctively at Chris, not even knowing that much about her husband and felt somewhat incensed by that. Chris showed no reaction to that revelation but his Adam’s apple bobbed so she knew that he was uncomfortable about having that bit of news reach her, especially when he had never brought it up with her in all the time they had been married. "When did she pass away?" Mary could not help but ask.

"When I was eight." Chris answered before the general could answer. "My mother died when I was eight."

"I’m sorry," she said softly both to Chris and to his father. "She must have been very young."

"She was," Larabee’s response was quiet and even though he wore the same damnable impassive mask on his face that Chris did, Mary saw enough reaction to know that the general still missed his wife dearly and her own response was instinctive. Her hand was in his before she even knew what she was doing, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you." He offered her a warm smile and decided that he liked his daughter in law very much, even if her husband was too big for him to take behind the woodshed, no matter how much he sorely needed it.

Chris also saw the sadness in his father’s eyes, something that he had never noticed when he was a youth or perhaps did not understand enough to know what it meant. His memories of his mother were vague after so many years but he did remember that his father had adored Brigid Larabee. For the first time since General Marcus Larabee had suddenly made his reappearance in his life, Chris felt that perhaps it was time that he made some effort to resolve things between them. After all, the man had come here and not brought up the situation in West Point or demanded an explanation from him, when it was well within his rights to do so.

"How come you didn’t become a soldier too Chris?" Billy asked and suddenly all the rules went straight out the window with that one question.

Chris did not what to say even though the question sliced through all his thoughts. He looked at his young son, eyes filled with curiosity, with no idea about the turmoil he had caused by that simple inquiry or the fact that he had dragged Chris and the general into the heart of their estrangement. "It just didn’t work out." Chris stammered, searching for a better explanation than that and cursing under his breath when none was forthcoming.

"Why not?" Billy probed further, no idea of the discomfiture he was causing.

Mary on the other hand, was well aware of it and moved quickly to intercede because she sensed they were nearing a subject that was not at all wise to approach if she wanted the rest of the evening to continue without confrontation. "Billy, it’s not polite to be so nosy." She said gently, sparring Chris the need to answer the question.

"I’m not being nosy…." Billy whined a little, noticing from the tone of his mother’s voice that there was a hint of reproach in it.

"Actually Christopher did very well at the Academy."

"You mean West Point?" Mary exclaimed, unable to keep the shock from her voice at the realisation that the Academy was the informal name used by those who attended West Point Military Academy to refer to the prestigious institution.

"Yes," Larabee glanced at Chris, not hiding his distaste that Chris had hidden so much from his new family. "Christopher attended West Point for three years."

"What’s West Point?" Billy blurted out.

"It’s a school." Chris said sharply. "We don’t need to talk about this."

"I think it’s about time you talked about something." Larabee replied, feeling his own anger rising at the belligerent attitude behind displayed by his son. "It doesn’t look like you’re telling anybody anything? Are you ashamed of where you come from?" The general demanded. His voice never rose an octave but the anger in it was defined by the clarity of his enunciation.

"I ain’t ashamed of anything." Chris retorted. "It ain’t no one’s business but my own."

"Not when it affects everyone around you." Larabee returned. "After 21 years, I think I deserve an explanation."

"Maybe this isn’t the best time…." Mary started to say.

"Stay out of this!" Chris fairly roared at her and immediately saw the hurt in her eyes as he did so.

"Don’t yell at her because you’re not adult enough to face the problem." The general came quickly to her defence.

"Please, don’t." She implored them both to remain calm. However, it had gone past that and she knew it. Even Billy was shrinking into his chair, fear in his face as the discussion turned ugly. He did not like to see Chris and his ma fighting.

"I apologise," the general said reining in his temper before he did something he said anything further. "I’ll be going."

"General," Mary spoke out. "Don’t leave."

"Let it be." Chris ordered, not even looking at her but glaring at his father with years of frustration and anger hidden under the surface of his eyes.

"Let it be?" Mary whirled around and stared at him. "Chris," she paused a moment catching he breath to give her opinion on this entire situation. "You know just about everything in my life. I have held nothing back from you because that is what being married is about. Sharing. However, I have found out more about you in the last ten minutes than I have had in a life time and frankly, I am appalled!"

"Mary…." Chris started to see that there was more than just hurt in her eyes over his harsh words but something than ran deeper, something that shook the foundation of trust they held for each other.

"Don’t Mary me!" Mary declared. "What else haven’t you told me?"

"Mary, this isn’t the time to discuss it." Chris tried to get the upper hand by exerting some control over the situation but Mary would have none of it.

"When will it be time to discuss it?" She demanded. "The next time you have a long lost relation show up?" She stood up from the table and flung her napkin at him before storming away from the table, leaving everyone speechless for a few seconds.

"May I be excused?" Billy spoke up meekly after awhile, having finally summoned the courage to speak in the face of the bitter episode that had taken place only moments ago. The boy looked clearly disturbed by what had transpired between his parents and Chris was similarly dismayed that he had been forced to witness the entire scene.

"Sure." Chris sighed and felt his heart sink at how quickly Billy moved to get away from him. He supposed after what the poor child had been forced to sit through, Chris could hardly blame the child for wishing to be well out of the line of fire. Once Billy had gone, Chris found himself facing the general alone and as much as he wanted to blame the man for alienating Mary and causing his son to flee from the table, Chris knew it was not his father’s fault.

"I could use a drink." Chris sighed; knowing it was time to have it out. Actually it was long past time that he did but at least he had come this far to admit it and finally to do something to rectify things. He had lived with this for too long. Chris had assumed his father would blame him and compounding his mistake by not giving the man the benefit of the doubt when it had been a courtesy his father had always reciprocated even though Chris had chose to ignore that when he fled all those years ago.

"Saloon?" His father looked at him with a smile.

"Saloon." Chris nodded.

After all, he was his father’s son.

*********

When they walked into the Standish Tavern together, Chris was glad that none of the seven were present since they were scattered all over the place with the protection of the nitro and the guarding of the prisoners respectively. Chris himself had planned to go to the jailhouse after dinner and relieve Josiah who needed some rest after playing warden to their prisoners in the jailhouse. At the moment, Vin was no doubt visiting Alex while at the same time, catching up with some rest himself after their ride to Purgatory and back. The others were still guarding the nitro at Nettie’s place and were no doubt enjoying the widow’s hospitality during that particular chore.

Even though the mood between the two men was still tense, Chris had come to the begrudging realisation that he had to have it out with his father, or at least go some way to explaining his actions. It was obvious that while the general did not want to come outright and demand a reason for his behaviour, the man still wanted to know what had happened between them that would justify his son disappearing for the last twenty one years. Especially when he had done nothing to warrant such desertion. The general never spoke about his feelings and Chris’ childhood following his mother’s death that been an odyssey of trying to understand what was taking place beneath his father’s battle hardened exterior.

The tavern was busy at this time of night and so they found themselves an out of the way table at the corner of the room in order to get that drink that was so needed after what had taken place at home. Rain who was on permanent duty bartending most evenings, quickly served them their drinks aware of the situation between father and son and hid her pleasure that they had finally agreed to sit down to talk. Rain had strong opinions when it came to kinfolk and she firmly believed that there was no reason in the world why a family should not resolve its differences.

Once the young lady had gone, Chris found that there was no longer any reason to remain silent on the past that neither man could get by to start some kind of future acquaintance. He took a sip of his beer and savoured the drink a moment, perfectly aware that his father was watching him with steely eyes.

"I think I’ll be sleeping in the spare room again." Chris sighed.

"I’d say so." His father managed an amused expression. "She’s a fiery woman."

"You don’t know the half of it." Chris eased back into his chair, unable to meet his father’s gaze because the moment of truth had finally arrived and he could not bring himself to that yet until the words had finally escaped him.

"I like her." Larabee remarked and honestly meant it. "That’s a hell of a nice family you got there, Christopher."

To that at least, Chris could not disagree. "Thanks."

"I would have liked to have met your first." He added and forced Chris’ eyes to meet his.

"I don’t want to talk about them." Chris said shortly. "I ain’t ready for that yet." It was true. No matter how much time had passed, it was still difficult to speak about Sarah and Adam without feeling the black well of grief coming to claim him. There were too many memories, too many ugly things that had burned into his memory the day he found them. Charred bodies and dark cinder on his skin that might have been pieces of them, that was all the memory he had left of Sarah and Adam that soiled all his other recollections of them. He could not speak of them, not to his father who could see through him with more ease than anyone in the world. The pain was too raw.

"Okay," Larabee nodded in understanding, aware of how they had died and able to see the darkness that had surfaced in Chris’ eyes at the very mention of them.

"I’m sorry you never got to know them," Chris managed to say that much at least. "It was wrong to shut you out when it wasn’t your fault what happened."

"You want to tell me what did happen?" The general inquired, unaware that he had been holding his breath. He had waited for so long to ask that question. How many nights had he lain awake, trying to decide whether or not it was worth tracking down his son just to shake the answer out of him. However, Chris’ stubborn pride was an inherited flaw and Larabee could not deny that he had been afflicted similarly and it had kept him from making that all-important first step.

"We were out for the weekend." Chris began, revisiting memories he had not wanted to think about for so long because of the indelible marks it had left in its wake and the ramifications that had followed him for the rest of his life from that one mistake. A mistake he was not even sure was wrong to begin with. "There was this saloon not far from our billets and we went there sometime. It was me and a few others."

The general knew something of the events that Chris was describing because of the report he would eventually receive from the Academy after Chris had left. "This is where the girl died?"

"Yeah." Chris looked up and after a moment decided that it was no real surprise to him that the general knew. "She was nothing, just a barmaid you know. She wasn’t even a saloon girl. Her name was Karen I think."

Chris needed another sip of his beer when he brought Karen’s image to his mind. She was beautiful but not extraordinary. She had red ribbons in her dark hair and she looked far more attractive than any of the worn saloon girls. "All us cadets thought she was really something."

"What happened?"

"I was with some of the others." Chris still refused to name the men who had been with him, aware now that it was all over and Karen dead and buried and such revelations would serve no one, twenty-one years after the fact. "We were leaving the saloon for the evening when we saw Karen heading home. I wanted to get back to barracks but the others thought it might be fun to talk to her. I didn’t think much of it at the time because it seemed harmless at the time."

"Was it?" Larabee asked, his voice tightening because it always started out that way, the dirty sordid crimes that found their origins in the word harmless.

"No," Chris swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat as the story shifted into its next phase. "It started becoming more and by the time she got home, she was practically running for her life. I tried to stop them but the others were drunk and a little high on whatever it is that made them do what they did next. Karen lived alone and they broke into her house and raped her. All five of them."

Larabee’s stomach hollowed, seeing the intense pain in Chris’ eyes as he relived the moment in his mind’s eye. Every scream and pathetic plea to stop was burned into Chris’ memory. Years later, when Buck Wilmington’s Alice had fallen to the same horror, Chris had made it his personal quest to bring Damien Westbrook to justice because he had failed to do so for Karen.

"I did try to do something but they turned on me and by the time they were finished with me, I was in no condition to help her. I still hear sometimes though," Chris held his mug to his mouth and took a deep swallow because his throat felt dry. "I still can’t stand the sight of red ribbons. Sarah wore them once and I had to tell her take it off cause it made me so sick."

Larabee knew that Chris had made allegations implicating his fellow cadets in the death of the girl named Karen Cassidy who was found murdered and raped in her home. The five accused naturally provided each other’s alibis and eventually, it came down to Chris’ word against them and they were unwilling to let one man or their conscience, stand in the way of a military career and so they held firm in the lie. With no corroborating evidence and the beating he had received at their hands proof of a possible vendetta, Chris had been dishonourably discharged for conduct unbecoming a cadet of West Point Academy.

"Why didn’t you just come home?" Larabee asked. "I would have believed you."

"You were so proud of me being in Academy," Chris answered thinking how ludicrous his reasoning had been in the face of experience. "I just didn’t know how to face you and tell you that I had failed."

"The Academy was not my wish for you." His father sighed wondering how so much misconception could have been engendered from two people who had shared the same roof for so long. "Sure I was proud that you wanted to be a soldier. There isn’t a father in this world that’s not proud of a son who wants to follow in his footsteps but I always thought it was what you wanted."

"I wasn’t no soldier." Chris said feeling even worse now that he had heard that. His father had always been so impassive and hard to read, Chris had to rely on signals because he wanted to be strong and resolute like Marcus Larabee had been. Marcus Larabee never showed when he was hurt. He kept it inside, hidden away so that he was the only one who could suffer his pain. Chris had tried to be that way and knew to a certain extent that he had succeeded, except that pain like that needed to be expressed. It had to be or else it ate away at you, a piece at a time. Chris had learnt that too late. "I liked the Academy well enough but I knew I was no good at it."

"Your instructors thought you were extremely promising." Larabee revealed, concealing that the reports he had received from Chris’ teachers in those days had spoken of a cadet who had the potential to be a great military officer in time. Larabee had known that before Chris had gone to the Academy because his son was logical and cool under pressure. He could imagine Chris keeping his head during the tragic circumstances that had led to his discharge, he was even proud that the boy was willing to risk it all to see justice had done.

"I could do it if I needed to," Chris admitted. "Soldiering that is but after the war, I was sure I didn’t want to do it forever." He let out another deep sigh knowing he had digressed and then continued. "When I got kicked out, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t’ face you and I was angry that the truth got hidden and a girl had died and I hadn’t been able to stop it. There were a hundred things running through my head, none of it made sense but all I knew was that I couldn’t go home. I wandered a bit and then the war broke out and I signed up in the infantry."

"I know," Larabee nodded. "I tried to keep track of you." He confessed to that much, not wanting the boy to think he had not made any effort to find him during those years. "I knew you were promoted to Lieutenant and then Captain. I half expected you to come home once the war was done but you didn’t."

"Buck and I got to be friends," Chris replied, knowing the truth was more because he still had not managed to overcome his fear of seeing his father and after six years, it had become even worse and Chris abandoned the idea all together. "We wanted to ranch horses so that’s what we did."

"And after Sarah?"

"After Sarah, there was nothing." He said unable to meet his father’s eyes. "When I found them both, I was ready to die with them and I looked long and hard to make that happen but for some I reason I was still standing. I wanted to die so bad I could taste it. Then one day I rode into this town, expecting it to be no different than the last place I’d been. I was looking for a saloon when I ran into her." A slow smile formed across Chris’ face when he thought about the first time he had seen Mary Travis. "She made me want to live for the first time in three years. With her came the others and I found something that could be called peace I suppose."

"Sometimes you gotta take what you can get." Larabee replied softly.

Chris could not argue with that and had to admit that he was luckier than most. He had been given a second chance when the six men and Mary had entered his life and realised at that instant that perhaps his father deserved to get one as well.

TO BE CONTINUED