DISCLAIMER:

All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. Authors Note: I’ve been writing enough stories from Mary’s point of view, so I thought I’d try a Chris story.

THE RECKONING

PART ONE:

CHESSPIECES

Yesterday

The demons in his life arrived almost when his life began.

He never spoke of them and people had a tendency to guess that he did not like being asked about them. They saw him in town once in a while, riding his soot coloured gelding, with steely coloured eyes always seeing ahead but somehow aware of everything around him. At first appearance, he looked no older than twenty-one. He was tall, lean; handsome to a fault but could never be considered pretty, with a demeanour that kept people away. Those who looked into the depth of his eyes were often unsettled by what they saw. His were eyes not those belonging to a young man but to someone who had seen too much already and marked forever because of it.

They knew Chris Larabee was dangerous. They just did not know why.

Only one person in town knew him with any intimacy and that was a young farm hand at the Blesdoe Ranch. Their personalities contrasted like night and day. Buck Wilmington was loud, confident to the point of arrogance and had a reputation as ladies' man as most of the local girls could attest. When Buck was with Chris, the differences between them seemed more pronounced. However, the friendship continued and would do so for the rest of their lives.

Unlike Buck, Chris was not loud. In fact, he rarely spoke but when he did, he was always polite. He tipped his hat to the ladies and did not indulge in hard carousing. When he was not with Buck Wilmington, he was usually hidden in a darkened corner of the saloon, drinking alone. Women gossiped behind his back, intrigued by what he was. Some approached him but showed he showed little interest. In turn, men viewed him caution. Although he had yet to draw a weapon on any of them, he was believed to be a gunslinger. He just had the look about him.

Nevertheless a year after his first appearance in town, Chris still remained as much a mystery. They did not know how he earned his living but noticed he was never without money, even if his income appeared modest. Thus it was a complete surprise to the townsfolk when it became known that Chris Larabee had taken a job as a ranch hand at the sprawling Westbrook property called Haven. He never seemed the type to work on a farm, even one as large as the Westbrook homestead. However, James Westbrook was known to pay his men well. For someone who might be considering settling down, it was a good a point as any to establish more permanent roots.

*******

Chris Larabee watched the family closely.

There were seven of them. James Westbrook who ran the town likes he ran his property, his wife Eloise, two daughters Lucy and Rebecca and three sons, Isaac, Timothy and Damien who also lived on the homestead. Although he was one of only a small number of workers on the ranch, Chris was careful to stay out of sight. The other ranch hands did not like him much but that suited Chris fine. He was not there to make friends. He kept a close eye on the family, watching their movements like a cat studying the mouse before attack, committing everything to memory. If he should fail when he finally made his move, it was not going to be due to any lack of preparation.

Although he was careful to study all of them, it was only Damien Westbrook who had Chris’ undivided attention. The youngest of the entire clan, Damien was in ownership of a mean streak known to most of the young women in town. The more respectable ones would not speak of the abuses they had received at his hands but Chris had kept his ears open and knew the look of those who had suffered. Damien liked his sex rough and he did not discriminate on whom he chose as his partner once the desire took him. Every now and then a working girl would turn up dead, battered to death. Sheriff Barlow who was bought and paid for by James Westbrook paid it little mind. There was not even the formality of an investigation. No one in town had any doubt as to the perpetrator of the crime, however, it was not wise to make mention of it. Those who had been unfortunate enough to protest, usually an outraged father or relative wound up dead. Sheriff Barlow would then deem the reason for the death anything other than it was really was.

Murder.

Had Damien chosen to keep his activities within the sphere of his father’s influence, it was entirely possible he could have continued his sadistic pleasures for years to come. In Crest Falls where James Westbrook ruled supreme, Damien was safely protected from the law. Threats or monetary gifts to the victims or their families usually put an end to any recrimination after Damien’s excesses. However, it was only a matter of time when the victim would no longer be somewhere that Westbrook could buy or threaten into submission.

Bitter Creek was more than a day’s ride from Crest Falls and it was a large town with a duly appointed Sheriff who took the law just as seriously as the safety of its citizenry. When the daughter of the local postmaster was raped and murdered after a dance, those present at the function identified Damien as her escort for most of the evening. He had been in Bitter Creek to see about buying a new horse and had chosen to stay for a few days. By the time the girl’s body had been discovered, Damien had wisely returned to the safety of Crest Falls but this time old man Westbrook’s influence could not pacify the girl’s enraged family. Warrants were issued and Sheriff Allen journeyed to Crest Falls to arrest the boy.

He never returned.

Since then, numerous lawmen were sent out to retrieve the boy and to date, none of them had succeeded. James Westbrook was allowing no one to take his son and the men he employed to protect the boy, made that determination a reality. The warrant on Damien Westbrook was left outstanding. With each fresh attempt and eventual failure to apprehend him, the bounty on the boy’s head began to rise steadily. A thousand dollars was not a king’s ransom for a bounty but it could buy a nice parcel of land somewhere.

It was a bounty that Chris Larabee intended to collect.

Thus Chris spent a month on the Westbrook homestead, waiting like a coiled serpent for the perfect time to make Damien accountable for what he had done. There were other reasons at work for his motivation, the least of it being money. Some were personal reasons and the others were simply a sense of indignation that anyone could be so brutal and was allowed to get away with it. He knew he could be a paradox at times because his emotions were walled in so tightly that it seemed almost invulnerable. Yet, there were occasions when sentiment would creep in and he would find himself a cause for which to believe.

He was never more dangerous when he believed in something.

*******

Christmas Eve was a time of celebration for everyone in the Haven. Most of the workers on the property whether they were ranch hands or hired guns, had gone to town to enjoy the holiday or were with their families. Chris Larabee had no such obligations to fulfil. There was on family in his past who were expecting him and if they were, they would have found him otherwise engaged. After a month of working the cattle and all the other duties that made up a ranch hand’s lot, Chris was finally ready to take his leave of Haven.

As he strode towards the main house leading his horse behind him, he could hear the happy voices singing carols within its walls. For a brief moment, he imagined the presents being exchange under a gaily, coloured Christmas tree. He crushed the image mercilessly as he reminded himself what he was here to do. He had chosen tonight for specific reasons. The hired guns that protected Damien Westbrook for so long had ridden to Crest Falls an hour ago. Chris did not expect to see them before morning. No doubt the working girls in the neighbouring areas would be busy tonight. James had let them go because he believed no lawmen would come calling on Christmas Eve.

Chris had expected as much, which was why he had maintained the charade as a ranch hand for so long. As one of Westbrook’s employees, he could move about freely without suspicion. In fact, he could come and go as he pleased, as he would tonight. If all went well, he and Damien would be out of the territory before Westbrook could alert his men.

Chris tethered the animal to the horse rail in front of the house and proceeded up the steps. Stepping onto the porch, Chris circled the large house, taking note of where everyone was. He wished the entire family was not present but knew it was a situation that could not be helped. It was now or never. Another factor that gave him cause for concern was that the house was double storey building and he knew his reconnaissance was not full proof since he could observe if anyone was up there. As he rounded the building, he could hear the singing grow louder. He arrived at a set of open doors and peered past it long enough to see Eloise Westbrook at the piano, with her children around her singing Christmas carols. There was something about the scene that almost gave Chris pause but the bounty hunter forced it away with expert control. James Westbrook was seated on what looked his favourite chair smoking a pipe, enjoying the quality family time.

Enjoy it for the last time, Chris thought to himself.

He drew both guns from the gun belt around his waist and cocked the weapons into readiness. Without drawing another breath, Chris stepped through the door with his guns drawn as calmly as any visitor making an unexpected appearance did.

"Good evening." He greeted.

The first one to react was Eloise. She screamed in fright as she saw the stranger before them. Damien jumped out of his chair and Chris only had to shift the barrel of his gun slightly for the boy to know that it was wiser to remain seated. The others reacted with similar hastiness until the barrels they staring down, told them different. Only James Westbrook seemed unperturbed by the sudden interruption.

"Larabee?" He said quietly. "What is this about?"

The old man was playing it safe Chris realised. He didn’t want his family hurt. Good, that was a valuable bargaining commodity. "Your boy." Chris said simply. "I’m taking him in."

"No!" Eloise squealed as her eyes darted toward her youngest. Damien Westbrook glowered at Chris in black hatred.

"Shut up." Chris barked. "Get over here." His eyes met Damien’s with enough threat in his voice to ensure that Damien obeyed. Obviously, his bravery only showed itself when he was using his fists on women. With an equal, Damien was not so forward. "Now." Chris repeated.

"You’re not taking him." Timothy Westbrook declared imperiously. "We’ll kill you first."

"This is not a negotiation." Chris reminded them. "Your boy has an outstanding warrant for his arrest and price on his head. I am bringing him in. Dead or alive is up to you." He looked at James because James was the only one who could decide how this went.

"I took you in you bastard!" James snarled angrily, rising from his chair. "I gave you a job!"

"And I appreciate it," Chris retorted, "which is why I won’t kill the lot of you as some of my less scrupulous colleagues have wanted to do."

Damien walked towards him slowly and as he advanced, Chris could see Timothy’s hand moving out of sight.

"Your hands!" Chris cried out but it was too late and the whole thing went to hell.

Later on, he would replay the incident in his mind, wondering if he could have done things differently and knowing the futility that comes with irrevocable outcomes. Timothy Westbrook would pull out a six shooter and Chris would fire without thinking twice. The bullet would slam into the chest of the middle Westbrook son amidst the terrified screaming of his mother and sisters. In rage, Damien would charge him and Chris would fire the other gun in he was holding, aiming for the boy’s knee. The bullet stuck bone and Damien went down with a cry of pain. Even before Timothy hit the ground, Chris knew he had killed the man. James Westbrook, horrified by seeing both sons shot, would lunge at Chris. The man was older and heavier and Chris reflexes were fast even for a young man. He side-stepped the charging rancher who went through the doors, in time to see the final Westbrook son making his attack. Somewhere, Isaac Westbrook produced a rifle and took aim while Chris was distracted with his father. Chris dropped to his knees as buckshot flew overhead, knocking his hat from his head. He fired again, needing only one shot.

The shot blew out the back of Isaac Westbrook’s skull. Blood and grey matter splattered across the wallpaper with its dainty yellow flowers. The screaming was almost high pitched now and did not come simply from Eloise. Chris turned around when he realised that James had not risen from where he fell. In his charge, the old man had fallen off the porch and was lying on the dirt ground, without moving at all. Slowly, Chris approached him, wondering if the man was playing possum and would attempt a surprise attach. Chris prodded the man’s still body with his boot and saw no movement. For a moment, was puzzled until he turned Westbrook over and saw the unusual angle of his neck.

James Westbrook was dead. His neck was broken.

Chris regarded the man’s dead form and swore under his breath. He had never intention of killing James Westbrook or his sons. He had only wanted to bring in a rapist and a murder, not become one himself. He knew that he had shot in self defence but to the women crying in that house, whose lives would never be same again and whose Christmases from this point on, would be a memory of loss, Chris knew he would always be a murderer.

*******

The ride to Bitter Creek was fast and furious. Knowing that he had only a matter of hours before Westbrook’s men came after him, Chris slung the injured body of Damien Wesbrook on the back of his horse and sped out of Crest Falls on full gallop. Despite the urgency of the situation and his ability to stay focussed on any situation, he found his mind unable to forget the scene he had left in the Westbrook home. He had never meant for the others to die. In fact, he had not wanted any of the Westbrooks to be harmed. Nothing was ever certain, Chris knew that but he also knew that he should have been able to handle things better. The sounds of Eloise’s tears echoed in his mind the further he got from Crest Falls.

They were half way to Bitter Creek when Damien Westbrook finally overcame his injuries enough to speak. "You bastard!" He cried in a half sob. "You killed my father and my brothers!"

Chris closed his eyes as the words stung him more than they should have. Normally, words barely effected him but today was not an ordinary day and what had transpired at the boy’s home justified Chris’ guilt. "I didn’t want it to go down that way."

"You didn’t want?" Damien fairly screamed. His arms were tied and his leg throbbed in agony. Chris had treated the wound enough so that he could make the journey to Bitter Creek. Once Damien was in custody, Chris was certain he would get the attention of the local doctor. In any case, his injuries made him easier to handle and at the moment, Chris did not need the aggravation. He felt bad enough about ht had happened.

"I’m sorry," Chris found himself saying. "I meant to take you without harming your family."

"I still got money," Damien started blathering now that it was apparent that no rescue was forthcoming. The darkness behind them offered no sounds of hooves beating down in pursuit. Instead, the plains behind them were silent with the stillness of night. Even the stars seemed to have disappeared behind the canopy of grey clouds. It did not seem like it was Christmas at all. The realisation that he might be facing a hangman’s noose brought out his fear. "I can pay you double the reward for my head."

Chris snorted in disgust but he was hardly surprised. He almost expected Damien to begin pleading for his life once he became aware of his situation. "This ain’t about money." He said simply. "No deal." He added in case Damien misunderstood.

"What else is there but the money?" Damien shouted in rising desperation. "Isn’t that what all you bounty hunters want?"

Chris continued riding into the night and made a decision along the way. It was not much restitution, considering Chris had just killed the man’s brothers and his father but he was at least deserving of why Chris Larabee had sought him out. "Do you know who Alice Sullivan is?" Chris asked as they reached the outskirts of Bitter Creek. In the distance, the town’s lights flickered a beacon of calling to them.

"Who?" Damien demanded, feeling the pain in his shattered knee more acutely than ever.

"I guess they all look the same when you’re tearing them to pieces with your hands." Chris said coolly. "Alice Sullivan used to live in Crest Falls. She was the daughter of Jebediah Sullivan, the boot maker. Do you remember her now?"

Damien searched his memory. There had been so many women; so many faces begging for mercy as his fists did the talking. Just thinking about how they had whimpered and cried drove any thought of remorse over the events of some hours ago. "I don’t remember her."

"She remembered you." Chris answered. "She remembered how you raped her and then beat her so bad that her own kin could barely recognise her. She remembered right until the time she killed herself a few weeks later."

Damien knew nothing of the woman in question. The bounty hunter was right; they did look a like when he was enjoying himself. It made no difference whether their hair was blond or brunettes, blue eyes or green. In the final analysis, how they made him feel was all he cared about.

"She was going to marry a friend of mine." Chris continued. "I don’t have many friends, so I sure as hell wasn’t about to let him ride on up to your father’s ranch and kill you. Your dad would make sure he never even reached Haven, let alone get there alive. So I made him a promise, I told Buck I’d take care of it myself. You’re going to Bitter Creek and you’re going to stand trial for murdering the postmaster’s daughter and maybe, Buck will be able to sleep nights again."

Damien said nothing for a moment, content merely to digest the information Chris had provided. When he finally spoke, there was no trace of the previous fear in his voice. Instead, he answered with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "He may be able to sleep nights again, but you won’t. You better pray they kill me, Larabee cause you’ll never be able to stop looking over your shoulder. I’ll get you, one way or another, I’ll destroy you."

"You can try." Chris replied unperturbed. Threats were nothing new to him.

He was still screaming those words when Chris rode away from the jailhouse, a day later.

Today

The woman had spent most of her life travelling. In her mind’s eye, were memories of faraway places, India, Palestine and even St Petersburg. She had visited the continent and found it charming in the way one might admire a fading beauty. However, this was the first time she had made any journey alone. She had no idea why she had come here, knowing only that it was a place that seemed to need her as much she needed it. As the stagecoach thundered through the unyielding terrain, she wondered if in all the world, she could have made a less inhospitable choice. When she had selected her destination, she searched for a place where she could use the skills she had spent so much of painstaking time perfecting and never being able to use.

Most people could not believe that she had passed through some of the finest universities in Europe. She did this and more only to find herself languishing in the walls of a male dominated system where women were considered usurpers, not additions. When her father was alive, he had allowed her to practise is a limited fashion but he was dead and gone now and he wanted only thing of her before the final crossing. He wanted to know he was leaving his daughter behind as a doctor.

Alexandra Styles did not know if Four Corners was the place where she could finally be one, but she knew she had to try.

The other passengers in the coach seemed to regard her with a mixture of emotions. The women viewed her with curiosity, trying to place the race she might have originated. The men’s emotions were easier to place. They saw an exotic young woman with bronzed skin and jet coloured hair that stared back at them with warm brown eyes, full of intelligence. She was possibly a Creole but there was something about her that did not match that description.

"Do you have family in Four Corners dear?" An elderly woman inquired. The woman was well dressed. With a flash of insight, Alex guessed that she sat court over a large family.

"No." Alex answered politely.

"That is a most unusual accent." The woman remarked. Alex tried to stifle a smile because her origins were a point of great curiosity to the dowager. "Is it European?"

"Partially," Alex nodded. "My father was English but my mother was part Indian."

"Indian?" The women’s nose wrinkled in distaste, although she tried to hide it. "You do not look like an Indian."

It took a moment for Alex to realise that the woman was speaking of an entirely different extraction. "Oh no, I’m not American Indian." She explained. "I meant India as in the continent in the far east."

"I see." The woman said uncertainly. India might as well have been on the moon for all these people knew. "Such a long journey to a god forsaken place."

Apparently, it did not matter where Alex was from as long as she was not a native Indian or what they referred to as ‘coloured’ in this country. As for her description of Four Corners, the woman’s view was the general description by most of the people Alex asked to describe the town.

"And what will you do in Four Corners?"

"I’m hoping to set up a practice." Alex replied, wondering if the dowager could handle this next snippet of information. Alex was certain that her sensibilities were stretching beyond their limits.

"Practice?" She looked at Alex in confusion.

"Yes," the young woman nodded. "I’m a doctor."

*******

Unlike most of the inhabitants in Four Corners, Chris Larabee was not generally inclined to investigate the new Emporium that had opened in the town recently. Despite the fact that it was a lavish production of colourful street awnings and wide picture windows displaying mannequins garbed in the latest fashions, supposedly stocking everything from ladies undergarments to a fine collection of guns, Chris had little or no curiosity to visit the place. When he was finally forced to visit the establishment it had been a trip forced out of necessity than any need to investigate.

The decision to actually enter the new Emporium was one with which he wrestled with over a period of hours. All morning, he had been faced with this uncomfortable dilemma, trying to decide whether or not it was a wiser choice to simply go to Bitter Creek to conduct his business privately or for expediency, brave the new store in Four Corners. Whatever the choice, he had to do it today. He had paced the floors of his small house out of town, like a lion trapped in cage. He had no idea why he felt so daunted about such a simple task. After all, in his lifetime he had done a great deal worse. It was not as if anyone would point a finger the moment he stepped into the walls of the emporium and started screaming his presence there. He ruminated on these points for an unusual length of time before he decided to bite the bullet and just go, no matter what the consequences.

All this because he was now had a woman in his life.

Chris finally left for town wondering if he ever felt so uncomfortable when he had been required to perform this duty for Sarah? He supposed it made all the difference back then because he had been younger and people sort of expected it from a family man. During the early days of their courtship, Chris had felt no embarrassment turning up at her doorstep with flowers and tokens of love. Since he was travelling most of the time, it did not matter any way. He would normally purchase something out of town where no one knew him or the lady he was buying for. His anonymity allowed him his dignity.

He stopped in front of the steps leading into the emporium and felt his courage falter. Inside, he could see people going about their business, shopping as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He had seen friends do it with similar ease and yet here he was Chris Larabee, undoubtedly the most intimidating man in Four Corners and all he wanted to do was drown in whiskey and forget the whole idea.

Except tomorrow was Mary Travis’ birthday and he had yet to buy her anything.

Chris turned around and took two steps away from the place. It was as far as he got before turning around again once he remembered what he was here to do. It went on like that for the next few minutes, two steps forward, three steps back. If anyone noticed this strange dance he was performing, no one dared to make light of it.

Jesus Larabee, Chris swore under his breath. Stop being such a damn coward! It’s just a birthday present. No one’s asking you retake Atlanta.

Telling himself for the hundredth time that he could handle this, Chris took a deep breath and started up the freshly painted wooden steps.

It was early afternoon and the emporium was seeing heavy traffic, mostly from the women in Four Corners. Although he saw some men in the vicinity, most of the customers were female. He had hoped to lose himself in the crowd but obviously that idea was shot to hell since he was the only one in the crowd not wearing a full-length skirt. Although he tried to appear completely indifferent as he entered the place, all eyes immediately turn to him. The sight of all the scrutiny almost made Chris Larabee spin on his heels and get out of with his life but he crushed the discomfiture and told himself to take it like a man.

A young woman whom he had seen around town, with dark auburn hair approached him gingerly. Chris remembered he had seen her once with Buck and realised her name was Elisabeth. "Mr Larabee, how nice to see you. Can I help you?"

Chris was almost told her to mind her own business when it occurred to him that she worked here. This place was certainly large enough to warrant shop assistants and he was glad he did not say anything rude. "I’m fine." He said gruffly, trying to move away.

The girl looked at him with a glint in her eyes that told Chris that she knew exactly what he was doing here. "Well, please free feel to ask if you require any help." She offered and Chris slinked away, reconsidering this whole stupid idea.

However, he did not walk out of the store.

After awhile, the novelty of his presence disappeared and the patrons returned their attention to their own purchases, although some did meet his eyes with curiosity, every time they happened by him. Although he was tempted to stay in the part of the Emporium that sold guns and the kind of things men would buy, Chris knew at some point, he was going to have to surface. There was actually a moment of desperation, when he considered the merits of presenting Mary with a good fishing knife; after all, he did not remember her owning one.

His thoughts ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous and he realised that he was more terrified about being discovered buying something for the woman he loved than having to face a hundred outlaws single-handedly. Finally, he returned to the section of the store that catered for the female population of Four Corners. Although the eyes still followed him as he browsed through the goods, Chris was able to shrug off the attention and eventually felt some measure of ease.

Overcoming that particular problem led to another. What exactly was he going to buy her? He had been three years out of practice buying anything for a woman. Even if the Emporium was filled with possibilities, Chris had no idea where to begin. He walked past shelves containing clothes, cosmetics, jewellery and the kind of trinkets only women would find interesting, unable to fathom which would be remotely appropriate. Just handing her flowers would mean that he had spent no time considering her gift and opted what was convenient. Chris had wanted to buy Mary something special. It was bad enough that she did not a wedding ring even though they were now intimately involved. While he was grateful that she was not rushing him into anything, he did feel as if there ought to be some formal understanding between them.

He was almost ready to give up when he suddenly came across the showcase cabinet at the front of the store. Unlike the others, this one was secured with a locking mechanism with a shop assistant in place. Chris wandered over to the glass case, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Fortunately, while people knew him on sight, very few like to approach him. Chris was never more grateful for that fact than at this moment.

Beneath the glass, was small collection of cameos, earrings and brooches, resting against a backdrop of sapphire satin. The vibrant colour offset the gleaming metal for maximum effect. Judging by the prices labelled on them, he gathered that the gold and silver were not plated but the genuine article. They were expensive but affordable, Chris decided. He did not bother looking at the earrings because he knew selection was exclusively a feminine expertise. However, the cameos did appear promising. The shop assistant, an older woman in her forties who stood by watching in silent amusement, he was sure. He examined a particular piece with the ornate engraving of a rose and decided that if he had to make a choice, this would serve.

"Chris?" He heard a decidedly familiar voice behind him and swore. Chris did need to look behind him to know which of the seven had discovered him.

Buck. It had to be Buck.

Chris straightened up and tried to inject as much cool into his manner as possible. He looked at the lady and tapped the glass over the trinket before remarking politely. "I’ll take this."

She nodded slightly, still wearing the barest hint of a smile as she fished a set of keys from the work apron tied over her skirt. "That’s a lovely choice. Shall I have it wrapped?"

Chris tilted his head forward in the affirmative and took a deep breath before turning around. "Buck, JD." Chris said indifferently as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Buck Wilmington and JD Dunne stood before him. While JD was merely surprised at Chris’ presence here, Buck was wearing a wide, knowing grin on his face. It gave Chris the strongest urge to wipe that smirk off Buck’s face with his fist.

"Hi Chris," JD said unaware of what all the fuss was about. "Buck thinks I should buy a new hat." He said gesturing to the worn bowler that had suffered greatly since its arrival in Four Corners.

"Good idea." Chris commented, making no effort to enlighten anyone as to why he was here.

"Shopping Chris?" Buck inquired, looking over the man’s shoulder to see what the lady was removing from behind the counter. He saw enough to know that it was nothing Chris was buying for himself. "I thought the men’s section was that way." Buck glanced in the direction of that particular part of the store.

"I’m just looking around." The man in black remarked icily.

"That will be twenty dollars, Mr Larabee." The shop assistant intruded on the conversation and Chris wondered if her timing could be any worse. Giving Buck a cold glare, he cleared his throat and turned back to the counter.

Buck tried not to laugh but he was clearly enjoying Chris’ uneasiness. He walked next to Chris and looked at what his oldest friend was paying for. Chris did not meet Buck’s gaze as he counted the wad of notes in his hand and exchanged them for a small box, wrapped gaily in glossy colours of red and gold.

"Thank you Mr Larabee." She said politely. "I’m sure the young lady will appreciate it." As she turned away, Chris saw that her amusement was apparent. However, it was not as blatant as the wide grin on Buck Wilmington’s face. Although the seven were aware of his relationship with Mary, Chris had tried very hard to keep his feelings for Mary private. This was no easy feat with Buck around. For some reason, Buck delighted in his discomfiture regarding this new relationship although why, was beyond Chris’ understanding.

"Is that for the fair Mrs Travis?" Buck inquired innocently.

Chris growled under his breath and stuffed the box in his pocket. "Drop dead Buck." With that, the evasive gunslinger strode out of the establishment before Buck lost all control of his composure and Chris was forced to shoot him.

JD watched the interplay between both men with no idea what had transpired. "What was that all about?" He asked Buck who had started laughing.

"Nothing JD," Buck replied patting the boy on the back. "That man can shoot a fly off man’s nose at 300 paces without even grazing him but you send Chris to go buy something for a lady and he still goes completely to pieces."

"Well maybe its just because Mrs Travis is such a lady and all." JD said coming to Chris’ defence. After all, it was no easy thing buying the appropriate gift for someone special. He had endured similar difficulties when he had decided to court Casey for the first time. If not for Mrs Travis, Nathan and Josiah, the whole thing might have ended in disaster. As it was, he ended buying Casey the digger anyway.

"Who’s talking about Mrs Travis?" Buck retorted. "He was like this even when he was courting Sarah."

*******

There were days in the town of Four Corners where people were in constant fear of their lives. It sometimes felt as if every bandit, outlaw, varmint and generally lawless hombre would to find their way into the municipality, announcing themselves in a blaze of gunfire leaving innocents dead. The citizens of Four Corners understood this unfortunate state of affairs as one of the calamities expected when one lived in the West. The gory tales of gunslingers and shootouts greedily feasted upon by impressionable youths reading dime store novels in the East, was not fiction to the townspeople. They lived the life portrayed so dramatically in sordid paperbacks.

That was before the Seven of course.

While there was still danger, for this was after all, the territory known as the Wild West, Four Corners was enjoying a period of relative peace. Since the unofficial appointment of the seven as peacekeepers by Judge Orin Travis, Four Corners was safer than it had ever been under the protection any marshal or sheriff. There days, the intervals between one spate of violence and the next had lengthened considerably from hours to weeks thanks to the men who now guarded the town with genuine dedication. In turn, Four Corners had embraced the guardians (if somewhat gingerly) and the seven men had become the recognised authority of law.

On this particular day during one of those cherished intervals of peace, there was little for any of the seven to do. After his experience in the Emporium, Chris had chosen to more familiar territory. He had yet to decide whether disembowelling was too good for Buck or should he remain with the tried and true method of just shooting the man, preferably in the mouth. While the rest of the seven had the good sense to leave the subject of Mary Travis alone, Buck enjoyed reminding Chris of his sudden change of personal status. He flinched at the word ‘beau’ being used anywhere after his name. It was not that he was ashamed of being with Mary, it just that he did not like their relationship viewed under a magnifying glass by everyone and his brother.

Ezra was behind the counter, playing bar tender while Inez worked the room with a serving tray. They were a good team, Chris noted. Saloon profits had been limping along prior to the arrival of the sultry Mexican woman. Maude Standish, who was part owner of Ezra’s saloon had bought controlling interest and appointed Inez who had been just a waitress at that point, to guard her interests as manager. The result had been a sudden rise in patrons who not only came for the drinking but also for the Mexican cuisine at which Inez was very adept and a chance to be served by undoubtedly one of the most engaging females in town.

At the moment, their relationship involved nothing but business. With a smile of satisfaction, Chris wondered if Buck would survive the disappointment if it ever came to pass that Ezra and Inez’s friendship was anything but platonic. Chris had seen the look in Buck’s eyes when he cast his gaze upon the woman and he had known the ladies man long enough to know when one really touched him. While Buck could run a list of all the women he’s ever had, only Chris knew how many he had really loved, from the first to the last.

"Hey Ezra." Chris greeted as he reached the counter.

"Good afternoon Mr Larabee." Ezra said reaching for a bottle of whiskey without having to ask what he was having. Placing a glass on the counter, he slid the full bottle towards Chris who caught it easily. "Is it your turn to do the rounds?" By that he meant the regular patrols undertaken by the seven when the town was quiet. It was their way of keeping tabs on any possible trouble before it became out of hand.

"No," Chris responded. "Just here to run some errands." For the moment anyway, none of the others needed to know his shopping escapade. No doubt, Buck would fill them in on every embarrassing detail.

"Hello Chris." Inez smiled as she breezed past him with an empty tray, to join Ezra behind the counter.

"Does that mean I am liberated from this tiresome chore?" He said moving out from behind the counter.

Inez rolled her eyes and exchanged a resigned expression that Chris knew all too well. He often felt it when he was dealing with Buck. "You know, it would not kill you to do some work around here." She complained.

"Madam," Ezra said graciously. "I would not dream of intruding on the realm upon which you are so capable of administering."

"Yeah, yeah," Inez retorted sarcastically as Chris picked up his glass and bottle and went to join the others at their table.

"Anything I should know about?" Chris inquired, directing his question at Vin Tanner. Although Vin was not much older than JD, in his absence, Chris could rely on Vin to ensure things ran smoothly like no other in the group. Vin had a quiet strength about him that people tended to give people a certain confidence when it was lacking. Since Chris had bought the house and land out of town, he relied on Vin to give him accurate intelligence on current events in Four Corners.

"Not much." Vin replied, handing Ezra a deck of cards in an unspoken request for a game. "Just the usual drunks last night but JD put them in the tank to sleep it off. One of the working girls got into some trouble but we handled it okay."

"Where’s Nathan?" Chris inquired, noting the absence of Four Corner’s only physician.

"He rode out early," Josiah reported, picking up the cards Ezra was dealing quite deftly around the felt table. "He went out to the Indian village."

Chris remembered. At Kojay’s request, Nathan often rode out to the Indian reservation to look in on the villagers. Other than their medicine men, the tribe did not have access to any proper medical facilities. While Nathan could hardly be called a qualified physician, he did know enough to treat minor ailments and refer those who required more specialised services to the doctor in Bitter Creek. When he made such trips, Nathan would not be seen until late evening for he spent most of the day conducting thorough examinations.

"Stage is here." Chris remarked as he picked up his cards and glanced briefly out the window.

The stagecoach thundered through the centre of town, coming to a halt not far from the only hotel in Four Corners. He took a sip of his whiskey and watched in quiet observation as the stage coach driver brought the team of horses to a slow, steady halt. Judging by the amount of luggage perched on top if it, Chris guessed that the stage was full today and in his curiosity continued his watchful eye over it.

Involuntarily, the rest of the men found themselves watching the stage also, mostly out of sheer boredom. They were gravitating between the boredom at not having to do but also the reluctance of not wanting to do anything in the heat of the summer’s day outside. As the stage door opened, passengers began to file out in seemingly orderly fashion. It was the last occupant that captured everyone’s interest.

"My goodness." Josiah said quietly. "What have we here?"

The young woman who emerged from the stagecoach had everyone’s undivided attention at that instant. Not only was she extraordinarily beautiful, there was something about her that inspired a smile even on Chris’ jaded features. She wore her jet-colored hair loose around her shoulders, while her brown eyes surveyed the new surroundings. The woman lingered near the coach as the driven began unloading the luggage from the top of the stage. A great deal of it seemed to be hers. Judging by the volume of her trunks and carpetbags, it appeared she was in Four Corners for a lengthy stay.

"Now that is a lady." Vin remarked with similar appreciation.

Until now, Ezra had resisted the urge to gawk. In his time, he had come across many women with unsurpassed beauty, that he no longer believed the opposite sex had any power to catch him in their feminine snares. However, the reaction of the others caused him to look up from his cards and indulge in the gawking they were so openly demonstrating. Normally, anything wearing a skirt was enough to make most of them sit up at attention but Ezra noticed that Chris was also looking on in interest.

Once he looked, he could not turn away. Very little affected Ezra so completely as to leave him at a loss for words but seeing her left him unable to shift his gaze. Even from this distance, it was obvious that there was more to this lady than the beauty of her looks. She was exotic and looking at her conjured up images of aromatic spices and tropical heat in far away places.

"Venus had walked into our midst’s." Ezra whispered under his breath.

"I don’t believe it." Vin exclaimed. "How does he do it?"

"He must have a sixth sense." Josiah commented as they all saw Buck Wilmington suddenly appear on the street, making a beeline for the new arrival.

"That’s what way to put it," Chris retorted, knowing exactly how far south of his waistline that sense originated. "If he was a horse, he’d be the hardest working animal at the stud."

"I’m so glad he isn’t wasting away pining for Inez." Josiah said with an amused smile.

********

Alex had just paid the stage coach driver a gratuity with instructions to carry her belongings to the local hotel when she found herself confronted by what seemed like the welcoming committee. The tall, handsome man came towards her with a wide grin and bushy moustache. He was not unattractive but judging by the way that he was swaggering towards her, Alex guessed his purpose very quickly. She had been around the world enough to recognise the type even if it was only the continents that were different. Without doubt, this specimen considered himself quite the ladies’ man.

"Good evening darling," he greeted her, oozing with charm.

"Hello." Alex said politely in response. Although she could see clearly through him, Alex saw little reason to be rude.

"Permit me introduce myself," he said bowing gallantly and Alex had to stifle a smile because he performed it like a man who was unaccustomed to such formality. "I am Buck Wilmington."

She raised a brow in silent amusement and responded with her hand extended. "Alexandra Styles."

For a moment, he looked at her outstretched hand unsure of what he was meant to do next. She could almost see the realisation flash in his mind as he quickly took her gloved hand and planted a kiss against her knuckles. "Please to meet your acquaintance, ma’am." He offered his most dashing smile.

"Why thank you Mr Wilmington." Alex replied as she turned around and looked for the stage driver who was only a few yards ahead and making slow progress to the hotel with her things. Her eyes followed the direction he was heading and saw the hotel that would serve as her temporary accommodation until she was permanently settled.

Alex was hardly surprised when Buck started following her. "What brings such a beautiful woman like you to Four Corners, Alexandra?" Buck inquired, pleased at how well things were going. He always had a weakness for the elegant ones and Miss Styles (god he hoped it was Miss) was as refined as he would ever come across in this town.

"Call me Alex." She remarked offering him a friendly smiled as she stepped onto the wooden sidewalk and continued towards the hotel. While she was aware of Buck following her, Alex was studying Four Corners closely. "I’m thinking of settling here." She answered Buck. As they passed by the saloon, she noticed a handful of men loitering at the door. She counted at least four and found them to be an eclectic bunch. For some reason, she fascinated them as she walked by. Alex wondered at this until she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Buck gesturing at them with his hands. The gesture looked like ‘go away’.

"Friends of yours, Mr Wilmington?" She asked with a smile.

Buck flashed an irritated scowl in their direction before he turned back to her. "You could call ‘em that."

Obviously, they were watching him to see how well he would fare with the new lady in town. Despite herself, Alex could not bear to see him embarrassed on her account. Although she could honestly say she was not the slightest bit interested in Buck Wilmington, Alex had to admit she did like him. Even for a short time, he had grown on her. Besides, in two words she could describe him with complete accuracy.

Mostly harmless.

She paused in mid stride and looked up at Buck. From this distance, his friends had a good view of everything that transpired between them. "Mr Wilmington," she said breathlessly, imitating some of the debutantes she had been forced to associate with in her youth. "For your kindness, I would be delighted if you would escort me to my lodgings?" With that, she offered him his hand.

Buck’s eyes widened in surprise but he recovered quickly. Throwing a triumphant smirk at the other men, he took the lady’s hand and they proceeded towards the hotel. Once they were out of earshot, Buck looked at Alex.

"Thanks Miss Styles." He replied, showing her that he was not at all fooled by her performance. "That could have been embarrassing." Suddenly, he liked her a great deal more knowing that she had just preserved his dignity in front of Chris and the others.

"Well, never let it be said that a woman has never rescued a man’s honour." Alex said with good humour.

"Okay," he sighed blowing out all airs and attempts to win her since it was clear that Alexandra Styles was not easily fooled and probably immune to his animal magnetism. He wondered why it was always the smart ones who could see past it. "Now that I’ve stopped short of making a complete jackass of myself, I’d like to at least salvage the situation and welcome you to Four Corners." This time he was genuinely sincere with no hidden motives in the greeting.

"Thank you Mr Wilmington." She replied graciously.

"Call me Buck." He said quickly. "Alex."

Although it was not really proper for him to be calling her by her first name, Buck sensed that this woman was not the least bit concerned by what seemed acceptable. Not excessively anyway. If anything, she seemed a tad eccentric. From the sound of her voice, he knew for certain that she was a foreigner to the country and who knew what kind of strange behaviour she brought with her.

"So Alex," he asked genuinely curious this time. "What brings you to town?"

"Well," she said reaching the doors to the hotel. "I’m here to open up a practice."

Buck looked at her. "Practice what."

Alex chuckled slightly and then realised he was not joking with her. "A medical practice." She stated for clarification.

"You’re a doctor?" He exclaimed in astonishment. "But you’re a ......" He stopped himself before he could say it.

Unfortunately, Alex was perfectly aware what he meant. "There are lady doctors you know." Alex retorted. It never ceased to amaze her how the same words could come from men all over the world without fail. She had studied medicine in England only to be thought of as little more than an above average nurse. Why was it so difficult for men to imagine that women could be doctors?

"I know but...." He tried to speak but whatever he was going to say faded in his throat. "We knew a doctor was coming sometime, Nathan told us, but we expected a ......"

"A man." Alex concluded sarcastically and spared him the effort of saying it out loud.

"Are you really a doctor?" Buck could not imagine that this beautiful, refined woman could be in such a line of work. During the war it was necessary for women to work in army hospitals as nurses. He knew that many women in the city chose that line of work as a career but to become an actual doctor? Was it even legal?

"Class of 71." She said dryly. Her affection for Buck had suddenly evaporated like the dry dirt that covered the town. "Now if you excuse me," she turned on her heels finding no patience to deal with his chauvinism. "I have to get settled."

********

Buck returned to the saloon and found the others had returned to their table and resumed their interrupted card game. He could not wrap his mind around the idea of a lady doctor in town. Less than a month ago, Mary Travis had told Nathan that their quest to find a doctor willing to start a practice in Four Corners had finally come to fruition. The town had difficulty in filling the position because no respectable doctor wanted to practice in a place like Four Corners. Doctors preferred larger towns where there was access to hospitals and proper facilities. Nathan had welcomed the assistance because the black man was realistic about his capabilities. As he had explained to the rest of the seven, it was one thing to knit broken bones and sew torn muscle. However, it was another matter entirely when one had to perform major surgery or offer diagnoses on serious illnesses. For that they required a professional.

"Hey Buck," Chris teased. "It looks like you swept the lady of her feet."

"That was no lady." Buck sat down heavily, still stunned. "That was the doctor."

Chris’ eyes widened. The gun fighter put down his glass and sat up right. For Chris, it was more of a reaction than anyone had seen him display in months. "You’re kidding."

"I thought the doctor was a man." Josiah said looking confused.

"Wait a minute," Buck suddenly realised how they could have been misunderstood the gender of their new medical practitioner.

Call me Alex.

"Alex Styles." He declared, stumbling onto the answer. "Her name is Alexandra but she likes to be called Alex. That was probably why Mrs Travis thoughts the doctor was a man. The telegram probably said Alex Styles not Alexandra.." For Buck, this was quite a leap in deductive reasoning. It was a trait he did not display often enough for Chris’ liking.

"A lady doctor." Ezra sighed. "Now that is an interesting of events. I guess it is not entirely beyond the realm of possibility." Ezra made certain that his voice betrayed nothing of the enchantment that had struck him earlier.

"The Indians have had medicine women for as along as there have been tribes. I don’t see what so strange about it." Vin replied, true to form. The young man was very rarely started by anything. He was unflappable by most things that happened around him because Vin had the amazing ability to take anything in stride. It was one of the reasons why he and Chris Larabee got along so well.

"I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, its gotta be the water in this town." Buck mused as if he were a man ensnared in a bad dream. "First we got a newspaper woman, then a lady bartender, now a doctor." His eyes narrowed as terrifying possibilities reared its ugly head in his over active imagination and Buck leaned forward and whispered. "Its coming you know, they’ll be taking over everything and keep us around just for the breeding."

"You wish." Inez retorted as she walked past him with a tray of drinks.

Her departure followed an explosion of laughter from everyone except Buck who really was serious about the point he was trying to make. It took a few moments for everyone to settle down again before Chris remarked. "A doctor is a doctor I suppose." He decided. After all, Mary had shown this town that it was entirely possible for a woman to run a newspaper and raise a child at the same time. It was not that much of a leapt for the folk of Four Corners to grasp that the same could be the same about a lady doctor.

"Well I ain’t going to see her." Buck said defiantly. "It just ain’t right."

"I’ll keep that in mind the next time you get shot up." Chris retorted. For some reason, the idea was not difficult to accept once the initial surprise had worn away. However, it was also possible that Chris was biased in this situation. He liked strong women and lately he had a real taste for the independent ones as well.

"I’ll stick with Nathan." Buck retorted, unwilling to concede any point yet.

"Well," Vin looked at the others with a faint smile. "You can’t teach an old dog new tricks."

*******

Nathan Jackson knew he should have left the village sooner than when he had for he could see the sun disappearing beneath the horizon. Once he had arrived at the farm, he had discovered that his services was sorely needed by a number of families in the surrounding properties and they had gathered to have him look at a variety of ills. It was within his ability to help some of them but there were cases where he was forced to recommend a trip to Eagle Bend where a proper doctor could make an accurate judgement. Nevertheless, Nathan did what he could and appreciate the gratitude he received in return.

Sometimes, he wished he had the formal qualifications to go with the ability but understood that it was a reality impossible in this day and age. When he had escaped from the plantation to join the Yankee Army, Nathan’s only concern was the emancipation of his people. He knew that most northerners did not like Negroes any better than southerners but at least in the north, a man did not have to live with year of slavery. It was almost providence that he found himself at a field hospital for the duration of the war and those years had opened up possibilities he never imagined.

He watched the doctors and nurses going about their duties, mending broken bones and torn bodies, trying to make a man from the patchwork of blood and flesh. Nathan had observed and learned, knowing thinking for a moment that he would be called on for a practical application in the years after. There days, he received very little monetary payment for the service he did performed but what he did receive, he saved diligently. Someday, he would finally have enough to buy a parcel of land and then he would marry Rain. Nathan had met Rain when the seven had originally come to protect he Seminole village from which she hailed. Ever since then, he made fortnightly trips to the place, sometimes in between as well, to visit the beautiful young woman and check up on the progress of the village.

Despite his relief that Four Corners was finally getting the services of a qualified medical doctor, Nathan could not deny the apprehension he felt as well. After almost getting lynched by a drunk mob of men who held him responsible for the comrade he had been unable to save, Nathan knew that there were some things that were beyond his ability to prevent. As much as he was knew, Nathan had to admit that there was a lot he did not know about medicine and he was unwilling to gamble with anyone’s life to prove otherwise. While there was an illogical fear of becoming obsolete with the arrival of the new doctor, Nathan knew better than to submit to such nonsense. The area was populated enough to support to doctors and how many times had Nathan been run ragged because he was juggling the physical welfare of everyone on his solitary shoulders? No, he was not threatened by the arrival of the new doctor, not at all.

Nathan continued riding into the darkness, feeling the aches in his tired muscles becoming more acute the closer he reached Four Corners. He wondered if there was any trouble today but dismissed the notion quickly enough. Chris would not doubt have the situation well in hand if there were any problems. If anything, the gunslinger was able to get astonishing results from the most unlikely people.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of horses in the distance. The immediate area was well shrouded by trees and Nathan reached for the rifle slung neatly in its pouch on his saddle just to be safe. His eyes scanned the area, trying to see where the sound had come. As he progressed deeper into the wooded area, Nathan wondered if it might not be wise for him to take an alternate route. He had chosen this path because it would take some hours off the journey but he did not want to get himself killed either by getting ambushed. Suddenly, he wished the others were with him.

Nathan was still wrestling with the idea of turning back when he arrived at a clearing. There were men waiting there on horseback. Through the darkness, he counted at least four. It was too dark to see their faces and that alarmed him. They bared the path ahead and somehow, he instinctively knew they were waiting for him. He just did not know why.

"Good evening." Nathan said warily.

"Good evening nigger." The man replied derisively.

The word stung but Nathan was not fool. This man was trying to provoke him into doing something rash. He said nothing as he thought quickly about what to do. "I don’t want any trouble." He said calmly, slowly forcing his horse backwards.

"Too bad nigger," the man raised his weapon. "You got it."

Without any warning, he pointed his gun at Nathan and fired. He kept firing until he emptied the entire chamber into Nathan Jackson. The healer was knocked off his horse by the time the second bullet had reached him. The horse produced a startled neigh and bolted into the dark. The last thing that Nathan was aware of before the pain took him was the man looking down at him dispassionately.

"The others are going to be harder."

Part Two

Twilight Manoeuvres

"I hope this ain’t no wild goose chase." Buck grumbled as he rode alongside Vin and Chris.

It was close to midnight and the three men rode away from Four Corners when Nathan Jackson had failed to return. Although reservation was some distance out of town, the ride back to Four Corners did not justify the healer’s continued absence. It was out serious out of character for Nathan to go wandering off without telling anyone first. Since becoming the unofficial guardians of Four Corners, Chris was conscious of the fact that the seven men were targets for outlaws and bandits who might think the town was easy pickings. In the last year alone there had been many encounters with such men who did not forget easily. If Nathan had come across one of these men alone…

Chris did not like to think of the possibilities.

"It’s only an hours ride or more to the reservation." Chris replied. "He should have been back by now."

As a result of the warm day, the night was quite pleasant. The day’s heat could still be felt but the temperature was mild with a faint breeze sweeping across the plains.

"He may be off with a girl for all we know." Buck continued complaining. When Chris had told them they were going in search of Nathan, Buck had been making good headway with a new saloon girl named Doreen.

"No that’s you, Buck." Chris said shortly, knowing perfectly why Buck was so anxious to get back. "I’m sure the girl will wait." There was enough of an edge to his voice to tell Buck that enough was enough. Chris was genuinely concerned about Nathan and until he saw the healer for himself, they would continue looking.

"You think he might be in trouble?" Buck inquired, realising that Chris’s concerns about Nathan were nothing to laugh about. Chris had a keener sense of trouble than any man alive did and Buck had learnt throughout the years not to underestimate his instincts.

"Better safe than sorry." Chris replied, not prepare to voice the worst at the moment. He had a feeling that there was something wrong. Nathan rarely chose to stay away from town over night. The black man had a strong sense of responsibility when it came to his healing abilities. He would not have simply taken off without telling anyone.

"Stop a minute." Vin remarked and pulled the reins to dismount his horse.

Normally Vin preferred to do his tracking during the day, where it was easier to read the signs in the light. However, he was a capable night tracker when it was required. The plains had offered little evidence of Nathan’s presence but now that they were approaching a belt of trees, he wanted a closer examination. Chris and Buck held back as Vin stepped onto the ground and examined the terrain until the tree belt some yard away.

"Four may be five men on horse back." Vin suddenly announced. The markings on the grass and dirt were a language onto themselves for an experienced tracker. He studied the state of the marks before him and made some other conclusions. "The tracks are pretty fresh," he looked at his companions. "Last few hours I’d say."

"I didn’t see anyone new coming into town." Chris stated. "Someone would only come this way could be heading to town. There’s nothing else in this direction other than Four Corners. Long way to come for not going into town."

"We don’t know that for sure." Buck declared. Ever the optimist, he hated to think the worse in any situation until they had proof of it before their eyes. "I mean, there could be travellers passing through or something."

The possibility existed but somehow Chris could not abandon the instinct that something bad had befallen Nathan Jackson. He lived his life playing hunches like this and that he was still alive was a testament to its accuracy. "Or something is what I’m afraid of." He said before nudging his horse forward, leaving Buck and Vin to follow.

*******

They found him a short time later.

Chris saw him first. His body was a dark silhouette on the ground but Chris knew the moment that they had come into the clearing that it was Nathan’s form before them. He jumped off his horse and reached Nathan in two long strides. Buck and Vin were not far behind him.

"Nathan!" He called out.

There was no answer and that hollow feeling in Chris’ gut constricted further. Chris dropped to his knees when he reached Nathan and immediately felt moisture underfoot. When it seeped through the fabric of his pants, did Chris realise that it was blood. It was almost a puddle underneath Nathan and Chris found himself staring at a hand that was almost drenched in blood when he had touched the ground.

"Jesus." He managed to say and then turned to Nathan who was lying face down. Chris only had to pull his over to see the severity of his wounds. "Buck! Vin! Get over here now!"

Both men were at his side in minutes and the healer remained unconscious. Even in the dark light of the moon, they could see the entry point of several bullets across the man’s chest.

"Is he still alive?" Buck demanded as he stared into Nathan’s grey pallor.

"Barely," Chris replied, feeling his neck for a pulse. When he did so, he noticed another wound across the man’s throat and Nathan’s breathing was ragged.

"We got to get him back to town." Chris said getting Vin’s help to drag Nathan to his feet. The injured man showed no signs of movement and his body was a dead weight that only added to their fears.

"You’ve got the fastest horse, Chris." Vin retorted.

"Right." Chris agreed. "I’ll meet you boys back in town."

"You mean Eagle Bend." Buck reminded. "That’s the nearest doctor."

"Eagle Bend’s too far." Chris said savagely. "He won’t make it."

They carried Nathan to Chris horse and draped him over the steed rear. It would not be an easy ride but Chris could think of no other way to get Nathan to Four Corners any faster. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to come looking for the man sooner. As things stood, it was a minor miracle that Nathan was not already dead. Chris had been unable to gauge the man’s injuries closely but he could tell that multiple bullet wounds were the only cause of so much blood lose. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig.

"But you don’t know if that gal’s good enough to put Nathan together!" Buck insisted. He knew nothing of Alex Styles and liked it even less than he now had to entrust a friend to her ministrations.

"Get over it Buck." Vin snapped. "We don’t have a lot of choice."

"I’ll see you in town." Chris said shortly before he mounted his horse and dug his spurs into the animal, sending it bolting forward. Without further delay, both men and animal galloped into the dark towards town, racing against the clock that was ticking against Nathan’s life.

********

Alex almost fell out of bed when she heard the pounding at her door.

For a moment, she sat up in the darkness, without any clue as to where she was. Realisation flooded back into her mind, as the noise seemed to grow in urgency and pitch. Swearing under her breath in a most un-lady like manner, Alex stumbled out of bed and blindly reached for the silk robe hanging off the edge of the bed. She swung the door open as she pulled the robe around herself, Alex found herself staring at one of the men she remembered seeing in front of the saloon earlier today. The expression on his face matched the black of his clothes and immediately put Alex on guard.

"What is it?" She demanded.

"A man’s been shot." He said abruptly. "He needs a doctor."

Upon hearing that, Alex was wide-awake. "Wait a minute." She said withdrawing into her room. "I’ll get my bag."

Judging by the fact that this stranger had beaten down her door at this time of night told Alex how badly the man was injured. Knowing she would regret the haste later, she put on her slippers and grabbed her worn leather medical bag at the foot of the bed and emerged once more. What she was wearing was probably highly inappropriate for the occasion but it was warm and covered all of her. It was a notch above being stark naked but she had a sense that time was against her.

"Where is he?" She asked the man.

He said nothing in response but turned away from her and strode down the hallway, expecting her to follow. A few people had peered out of their rooms to investigate the commotion and Alex felt some embarrassment as she hurried after the stranger.

"How bad has he been shot?" Alex asked as they stepped out onto the night air. As the cold air nipped at her skin, she suddenly wished she had put on more clothes.

"Can’t say," Chris answered tautly. "There’s a lot of blood loss. I saw a wound on his throat and at least one at his chest."

Alex considered the information and then inquired. "How’s he breathing?" She asked as they made a beeline for the saloon.

Chris was suddenly aware that her questions were for a reason and he took more careful note of his answers. "He’s having trouble breathing." Chris answered after a moment. "It’s pretty ragged."

"Okay." Alex nodded decisively. "After you take me to him, I need you to go to my room again and get a black trunk. All my surgical instruments are there. I can’t say for certain but it sounds like your friend might have a respiratory trouble, which could mean a damaged lung."

"What else do you need?" He asked as they burst into the saloon that was empty except for the seven and Inez. Nathan was laid out on top of a table as Josiah held a bloodied cloth over the man’s throat. He looked up at them with more fear in his eyes than Chris had ever seen in Josiah before. He and Nathan had been friends much longer than the seven had been together and the helplessness in his eyes was apparent.

Alex did not answer. Instead, she went directly to the injured man. The others in the room stepped aside as the young woman put her bag down and removed the bloodied cloth that Josiah had used to kerb Nathan’s bleeding. Alex examined the injuries and knew instantly that this man’s life hanging by a thread.

"Are there rooms here?" She asked no one in particular.

"Yes," Ezra replied quickly. "You can use my lodgings." He answered, concerned etched all over his face. Even though Ezra and Nathan had begun their relationship on the wrong foot, there was no doubt that he considered the healer one of his best friends and that no sacrifice was to great.

"Get him up there." Alex ordered a course of action already set before her. "I need lots of hot water." She looked to Inez. "Keep boiling it until I saw otherwise. "

Inez nodded and hurried away to the kitchen while Josiah and Ezra lifted Nathan gently off the table and started up the stairs. Alex turned her attention to JD and Chris. "What are you waiting for?" She barked. "I need that trunk!"

"Yes ma’am." Chris replied and walked out the door with JD following close by.

When they were gone, Alex hurried up the stairs the men had disappeared with her patient. She found herself at the head of a narrow hallway. She assumed the man who had offered his lodgings was obviously situated at the end of the corridor. The other doors were locked shut and Alex assumed that saloon girls conducting ‘business’ mostly likely occupied those rooms.

When she entered the room, the two men had already placed the injured man in the bed. The amount of blood on their clothes and on the crisp white sheets heightened her concern. He was losing too much blood and the facilities for transfusion did not exist. The technique was relatively new in Europe and she was uncertain if it had reached American hospitals, even if she could get him to a hospital alive. The bleeding had to be stopped immediately or it would not matter how well she put him together, he was still going to die.

Josiah and Ezra stepped aside and let the woman take charge of the situation. Both of them felt similarly helpless as Nathan continued to bleed before them. "Can you help him?" Josiah asked, trying to understand how god could allow this to happen to Nathan of all people. Seeing his friend so close to death made him question his belief in the Maker.

"We need to get these clothes off him." Alex ignored the question asked but looked at them as she made the statement. She removed a pair of scissors from her bag and began snipping the clothes of Nathan’s bloodied torso. As she cut strips away of soiled material, her breath caught seeing the extent of damage. Three bullets had penetrated his body. The most prolific of these wounds was to the man’s chest. Judging by the location of the entry point, he was exceedingly lucky that the bullet had not penetrated his heart. Unfortunately, the near miss had not fared him any better. Instead of hitting the heart, it had entered the patient’s lungs.

"He’s drowning n his own blood." She replied. "Where’s that damn trunk!" She swore. She had to get into his chest and she had to do it now.

No sooner than she had uttered those words, Chris and JD arrived carrying the trunk.

"Its here." Chris replied, having heard her outburst.

They set it down at the foot of the bed and Alex hurried to it and unlocked the chest. Swinging it open, the men saw why she had needed the box so urgently. Inside was a wide array of surgical instruments, scalpels, tweezers and such, all gleaming under the light.

"Can you help him?" Josiah asked again, needing some kind of an answer.

"I don’t know." She finally answered, knowing that their concern was deep and they needed to hear something positive. Except Alex did not want to lie to them. "His injuries are severe. I can’t make you any promises."

"Who did this to him?" Josiah swore angrily.

"Someone ambushed him." Chris shook his head, wishing more than anything that he could answer Josiah’s question. The normally serene preacher was understandably angry. It was Nathan that had brought the preacher to the family of the seven. Chris himself was similarly enraged but he was capable of controlling his emotions better. The images of Nathan’s body in that puddle of blood had stayed with him all through the hard ride back to Four Corners.

"Why?" Ezra asked. "Of any of us, why Mr Jackson? He was just a healer..." His voice trailed of as the gambler tried to understand the reasoning. At least if they understood, perhaps they could then do something to avenge Nathan, instead of sitting on their hands having to rely on this stranger to save one of their own.

"Look, you can debate this later." She interrupted. "Right now, I need to get this man’s chest open and I’m going to need one of you to assist me." She looked at the four men in the room.

The boy positively turned ashen at the prospect of assisting in surgery and Alex decided than and there he would faint at the first sight of an open chest cavity. The older man was reluctant but not as shaken by the idea. She had a feeling he would have forced himself to help her even if the possibility terrified him. They exchanged glances with uncertainty. Alex did not blame them for viewing her request with trepidation. She had seen the bravest men shirk from the possibility of surgery. Assisting in the process seemed doubly terrifying. Nevertheless no sooner than she had spoken, Chris stepped forward before she could say any thing further. He was unprepared to let the others do anything he was not willing to do himself. Nathan was his friend and Chris was not about to let him die because he was feeling squeamish. "I’ll do it." He said firmly.

"No," Alex shook her head. "You’re not sterile." She saw his face hardened as he prepared to protest. "Look I’m sorry," she said quickly. "You’ve been riding most of the night, you’ve got dust and dirt all through your clothes. I’ve got to open up his chest right now and you’d be more of a risk to him than you would be helping."

The man in black glared at her with penetrating eyes that were not used to being refused on many things. However, she also saw that her patient meant a great deal to him and that meant his wounded ego would have to come second to what was necessary.

"I’ll do it." Ezra said stepping forward. "I have been inside all day. I am not exactly fresh as a petunia but I think I will suit your hygiene needs."

"Good." She nodded. "We don’t have much time. Everybody else out, now." Taking a deep breath, she whispered under her breath. "I need to get to work."

*******

It was the wait that Chris Larabee hated more than anything was.

His mind took him back to an earlier time when he was a different man. It was hot night like this one and he had promised her he would be home before the baby came. Of course, he was late. She was never angry but he knew she was disappointed when he broke his promises. He broke his last promise to her the night he came home from Mexico and found her screaming his name, as the baby prepared to make its arrival. He remembered never being so scared in his entire life during those hours after he had summoned the doctor and was forced to wait outside while his son was being coaxed into the world.

Those had been the longest hours of life until now.

Now, as he waited with Josiah and JD while Alex Styles and Ezra fought to save Nathan’s life, Chris was reminded of that terrible memory. A bottle of whisky sat unopened in the middle of the table, while Inez hurried up and down the stairs with hot pitchers of water, to sterilise the instruments the doctor needed for surgery. An hour after they had been ushered out of the room upstairs, Buck and Vin made their arrival back to town.

"What’s happening?" Buck demanded as soon as he had cleared the doors and seen them waiting.

"The doctor’s with him." JD answered. "She’s says he’s hurt really bad."

Buck could well believe it. He saw the same thing that Chris had seen and knew they could not have reached Nathan any later or else he would have died. It was a minor miracle that he had clung to live for so long. Perhaps healing so many had given Nathan the will to survive.

"We found Nathan’s horse." Vin informed Chris as they joined the rest of the seven at the table. "Those tracks we found earlier were all over the place where we found him."

"I don’t understand why." Buck said genuinely bewildered. "I mean Nathan’s a healer for god sakes. Until he hooked with us, he’d never crossed anyone."

"I found the empty shells." Vin said grimly. "Whoever shot him tried to empty every bullet in the chamber into him. They wanted to him dead Chris."

Chris nodded, digesting the information. He could understand one or two bullets being wasted to dispatch a potential threat, if that was how the men who had shot Nathan perceived him. However, firing all bullets at a man indicated a more personal reason. It felt like vengeance but Chris could not guess why. "We need to talk to Mary." He stated.

"Mary?" Josiah looked at him in puzzlement.

"She’s known Nathan longer than you have Josiah," Chris pointed out to the preacher. "If he has enemies, she might know who they are."

"Where’s Ezra?" Buck inquired, noticing that the gambler was not present at the table. His gaze shifted as he saw Inez coming down the stairs, looking exhausted. The sultry bartender had spent the last hour running up and down the stairs, providing the doctor with hot water to sterilise her instruments for surgery.

"He’s up there with her." JD gestured to the top of the stairs. "She said she had to perform surgery on Nathan and she needed Ezra to help."

"What’s happening Inez?" Chris looked at the woman as she came towards them.

"I did not get much of a look." Inez confessed running her hands through her dark hair while Buck rose to his feet and pulled a chair out for her. "Miss Styles would not let me get to close to Nathan. She said something about keeping the field sterile."

"She’s got a real thing about that." JD replied. "Just like Nathan." He added remembering the healer’s predilections. Suddenly, JD fell silent because Nathan was fighting for his life and the boy did not like facing the possibility that Nathan could die. He tried to imagine life in Four Corners without the sympathetic black man who always had time to help everyone, no matter how dangerous the situation. It just did not sit well with JD that someone could act so cowardly and ambush a man who had saved so many of their lives.

"He ain’t going to die." Buck said confidently. "If that pretty gal says that she can put him back together again, I’m sure she will." However, he did not seem as sure and could hardly make a snappy remark when Inez placed wrapped her arm around his and squeezed it tight. He looked into her eyes and saw that she understood he was putting up a brave face because he simply had to hope for the best. Buck Wilmington was incapable of facing the worst.

"I’m going to talk to Mary." Chris rose to his feet, unable to stand sitting around any more. He needed to act and he needed to do it now.

"Chris, it way after midnight." Vin called out as the leader of the seven strode towards the doors of the saloon.

"I know." He replied, having already taken the late hour into consideration. However, he knew Mary well enough to know that she would have resented not being told immediately. Nathan was her friend. She had once faced a group of homicidal drunks with a shotgun to save Nathan’s life. No one would who put themselves in the line of fire like that would do so unless they had a very good reason. Late hour or not, Mary would want to know about Nathan and Chris might be able to get the answers as to whom might have done this to him.

*******

Ezra watched her work and could not help be impressed by her skills. There was no doubt or hesitation in her face, just the marked determination to get the job done and save a life. All other thoughts of propriety were brushed aside as she began to cut into the ruined flesh of Nathan Jackson. Until she had cleaned the blood off his body, with Ezra mutely holding a tray for the disposal of the bloodied scraps of clothing, he had not realised the extent of the damage. There were three bullet wounds across Nathan’s body. There was a bullet wound in the throat, one a fraction off centre from his heart and another in his side.

Her concern was mostly centred on the bullet lodged in Nathan’s lung. Ezra could well understand why. Even from his secondary position, he recognised the shallow breathing coming from Nathan; the breathing that was growing more laboured as time drifted past with uneasy pace.
"The wound in the throat is mostly superficial." She explained as she started cutting into the skin to remove the bullets in his torso. "If he lives, the worst it will cause is a temporary halt of his singing voice."

"He does not possess one worth the loss." Ezra joked; attempting to sound clever but the remark emerged as a quiet whisper.

Nevertheless Alex threw him a bemused smile before turning back to her patient as she held back the torn tissue that had soaked the bullet in its folds. "Get that long nose clamp." She gestured towards the instrument lying on a tray a top of the trunk. Ezra reached for the instrument and handed it to her, however Alex did not take it from him.

"Now, I need you to lean forward." She said looking at him intently. "Can you see it?" She nodded at the opening in Nathan’s flesh that she was currently holding apart with what she called a rib spreader. Ezra strained forward and saw a glint of dark grey almost obscured by blood. It could hardly be recognised as a bullet but there was no doubt as to what it was.

"I see it." He said swallowing hard. Although Ezra did not want to appear squeamish, the sight of all that blood was disturbing him. Nevertheless, the gambler retained his composure in front of the lady.

"I have to keep the ribs apart so that we can get to the bullet." She explained hoping that he had the nerve to do what she was about to ask of him. Alex could see beads of sweat under his forehead that had nothing to do with the summer heat. Like most gunmen, he was only used to causing the wounds. She doubted if he had ever seen the consequences of a gunfight once the actual shooting was done. "I need you to reach in with those clamps and remove it."

His eyes flew to hers immediately. For a man accustomed to having most situations well in control, her request had almost reduced him to panic. His eyes darted from Nathan to Alex, as he struggled with the impulse to refuse. "Madam, perhaps that would be a task better suited for you...."

She cut him off before he could finish that sentence. "I’m holding him open so the bullet can come out. This is not up for negotiation. The bullet has to be taken out now." Alex said firmly, emphasising in her tone the urgency of the situation. Ezra wanted to run out of the room and ever forget that he had volunteered to help her, however, to do so would be to doom Nathan to death. Unlikely as their friendship had been, Nathan was an important part of his life and Ezra did not intend to disappoint him. He would deal with his apprehension later. Right now Nathan needed him.

"Just reach in?" He looked at her uncertainly.

"Yes." Alex nodded. She saw the stark terror in his eyes when she had made the request and admired him for being able to put aside those fears for the sake of his friend. Until now, she had not really paid him much concern because her attention had been focused on the patient; however, she was now glad that she had. Alex lingered on her observations for a second before returning to the matter at hand.

Ezra met her eyes once more and saw the young woman give him the go ahead to begin. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the narrow opening and tightened the clamp around the hard projectile. The bullet was slippery with blood and fluid. Somehow, Ezra managed to retain his grip and withdrew the clamp gently. The bullet remained trapped in place, gleaming with moisture. Ezra was transfixed by it for a moment, trying to associate this small projectile with the significant injuries it had inflicted on Nathan.

"Nicely done." Alex smiled. "You’ve got great hands."

"Well," Ezra shrugged as he dropped the bullet into a small steel receptacle. "I have been told that on occasion although I prefer to display my skills in a more monetary pursuits."

"I look forward to seeing exactly what you mean by that," she chuckled before returning her attention to Nathan. There was still much to do and time was not much more time than they had before.

While they entered the next phase of the procedure, Ezra could only remain in silent contemplation as to what she meant by that remark.

********

There was a time when it was unthinkable for him to appear at her doorstep at this time of night but one of the first things Mary had done with the change of status quo between them was give him a set of keys to her house. Since they shared the same bed more than three or four times a week, it was necessary for Chris to make discreet exits in the early hours of the morning, since he was adamant about guarding her reputation. So far, his clandestine departures had gone largely unnoticed by Four Corners and until there was some formal declaration about their relationship, he wished it to remain that way. Mary’s position in Four Corners relied upon her virtue as an upstanding, member of the community and Chris did not wish to be the reason for that alteration.

On this occasion, he slipped in through the backdoor as he always did, careful that no one observed his presence. It was dark in the Travis house which was hardly a surprise considering what time it was. When he was not with her, Mary was an earlier riser and that meant she went to bed at a reasonable hour. Considering what she took on each day, he supposed it was necessary for her to get her a rest. Under normal circumstances, Chris would not dream of waking her but he did not relish facing her wrath if the news of Nathan’s injuries were kept from her until morning.

It was never wise to provoke her temper.

Chris moved silently through the house and made his way upstairs, trying not to make a sound as he climbed up the stairs. The wood creaked underneath him but not enough to cause any concern. The hallway was dimly lit by the lamp on the wall, which Mary had taken to lighting in the event of his nocturnal visits. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and Chris entered the room to see her lying serenely among the crisp white sheets. He could hear her soft breathing and the iridescent glow of her skin under the moonlight.

Chris admired her sleeping shape for a moment, watching the luminescent skin rising and falling. Her gold hair was splayed around the pillow and although she was wearing a nightgown, the urge to slip into the covers with her was overwhelming. He leaned over and brushed his fingers against her cheek, savouring the silky texture against his palm.

Mary stirred slightly at his touch and her lashes fluttered as her hand reached for his. A slow smile stole across her face when she looked up at him. "Hi." She said dreamily.

"Hello." He returned her gaze and leaned down to meet her rising lips. It was hardly a passionate kiss but it was more than enough to completely lose himself in the power of her.

"Come to bed," she whispered invitingly and Chris almost did before he remembered why he was here.

"Mary, I have some news." He said with enough of an edge in his voice to put Mary on guard. Immediately, the tender moment between them faded and she returned his stare, aware that something terrible had transpired.

"What is it?" She asked, starting to sit up.

"Nathan’s been hurt." He said simply, ignoring the curvaceous outline of her body beneath the thin cotton of her dress. With everything that had taken place tonight, he was ashamed to admit that Mary had been almost an afterthought in his mind. When there had been time to catch a breath, Chris realised that Mary would want to know that Nathan had been hurt. Of all the seven, she had known the healer longest. Chris knew she considered Nathan a good friend.

"Hurt?" Her blue grey eyes widened. "How?" She gasped.

"All we know is men ambushed him on the way back from the reservation." Chris replied automatically and fast becoming weary of having to give that same answer repeatedly.

He saw her face cloud over with the same confusion that had gripped all of them when this information had been made known. She sat quietly for a moment, digesting the terrible news. "I’ll get dressed." Mary pulled the covers aside and rose from the bed. Chris watched in silent appreciation as she padded to her wardrobe and let the nightdress fall from her shoulders. "How badly is Nathan injured?"

The image her alabaster skin was immediately driven away by the darker memory as how he had found Nathan Jackson flashed in his mind. Chris opted to give Mary a slightly more sanitised version of what he had seen. "He took a couple of bullets." He answered. "The doctor is with him now."

Mary looked over her shoulder, blond hair swaying across her bare back like a shimmer of gold. "Doctor?" She asked. "What doctor?"

"She got in today." Chris answered, realising that Alexandra Styles would have seen little reason to report to the newspaperwoman when she had arrived.

"She?" Mary looked at him hard.

"Alex Styles." He reminded her so that Mary would realise that ‘Alex’ was not necessarily a male name.

The realisation that the doctor was female was not as much of a concern to Mary as how Chris knew her. Nevertheless, she would query the acquaintance some other time. "What does she say about Nathan?" Mary inquired as she covered her bare skin with layers of slips and undergarments.

"Its touch and go." He said grimly. "He lost a lot of blood Mary." His eyes involuntarily indicated to her that while they should hope for the best, the possibility of the worst had to be kept in mind as well.

"Who would do this?" She said she disappeared into the washroom attached to the bedroom. "Could it be some of the men you have encountered in the past year?" He heard her ask.

Chris shook his head in response. "Could be but I don’t think so." He replied considering the question with deeper scrutiny. "They waited for him out of town so someone knew he was going to the reservation today. They wanted to get him alone. I don’t remember Nathan crossing anyone in the last year that they would come after him specifically. If anyone was a target, it should have been me." He said sombrely.

"Now Chris," Mary appeared from the wash room, drying her skin with a small towel. Still clad in a slip and petticoat, she placed herself on his lap and slipped her arm around his neck. She knew where he was going even before he voiced it. "This is not your fault." She declared firmly, refusing to tolerate any guilt on his part. He already blamed himself for too many things in his life that went wrong and she was not prepared to let him assume responsibility for another. "Nathan would have gone to the reservation even if the whole Confederate Army was coming after him. You had no reason to talk him out of going. Besides, I doubt if you could have anyway. Trust me, I know him longer than you do."

"You’re pretty when you’re mad." He said with the barest hint of a smile.

Mary returned his smile and kissed him lightly on the nose before she got up to get dressed again. He was starting to take heed of her little snippets of advice, sometimes involuntarily. However, it was Mary’s ability to make him feel light in the darkest moments of despair that was part of the reason why he was so in love with her.

"Anyway," she said slipping on a familiar apricot coloured dress with modest neckline, he had seen her wear when she was not required at the Clarion. "If what you say is true then who ever shot him was after him personally."

Her conclusion was one he had reached himself. "Yeah," he nodded. "So would you know if he had enemies before the rest of us came to town?"

She considered the question thoughtfully as she braided her hair. "Before you arrived in town, Nathan was only healing. He did not do anything else. Most people were pretty nervous about having a black man being the only doctor around so he stayed pretty much out of sight."

"That’s what I thought." He said unhappily. It was clear something was bothering him beyond the obvious.

"What is it?" She asked concerned.

"Can’t say." He replied honestly. "But I hope it ain’t just the beginning of something worse."

********

Two bullets were removed from Nathan Jackson’s body and he was still breathing. As far as Alex was concerned, this was a good sign. She had been working solidly for almost two hours now, trying to repair the torn flesh the bullets had created so that her patient would have half a chance of surviving the next few hours. Muscle and sinew were sewn together with catgut, allowing Nathan’s damaged lung a decent chance of recovery. Statistically it was possible to survive with one lung. However, Alex did not want to discount in before every effort had been made to repair the damage. The bullet she had removed from his side had penetrated the liver but fortunately that particular organ was regenerative so his own natural processes would soon take up whatever repairs she had made.

The surgical gloves she was wearing over her hands were red with blood when she finally dropped the last instrument into a bowl of hot water, cleaning the stains of the strong surgical steel. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm and turned to Ezra. "I can do the rest on my own." She said breathlessly, obviously exhausted. "You can go if you like."

He was tired and he did want to go but something would not let Ezra leave just like that. He had watched this woman do work that would make most men shudder, without reservation because it was her calling to do so. "I prefer to remain." He said sincerely. "What else is there to be done?".

"Now?" She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan. "Nothing really," she answered. "I’ll need to bandage the wounds but that’s pretty much it. I administered an anaesthetic so he will be out for quite awhile. He has lost a lot of blood so he will sleep to regain his strength. I don’t think you can count him entirely out of the woods just yet," Alex said taking a deep breath. "However, he survived the surgery and that means he is strong and he is a fighter. A good combination."

"I can personally attest to both those qualities in Nathan." Ezra replied. "My friends and I had reason to doubt your skills when you had first arrived. I for one do not have further any doubts as to your qualifications."

Alex was in the process of bandaging Nathan’s wounds when she heard him say that. The woman paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder. "Thanks," she said knowing that it was as close to an apology as she was going to receive. "I know it was hard coming to me for help."

"His life was all that mattered." Ezra glanced at Nathan who was oblivious to everything around him.

"You are all very close aren’t you?" She observed the camaraderie between the men ever since she arrived in town and later on, when the man in black had come to her help. She guessed it was not easy for any of them to trust strangers but a deep fear for one of their own had forced them to put their faith her.

"Without becoming unnecessarily sentimental," Ezra tried to sound non-committal. "We are comrades in arms and perhaps brothers in our self - imposed exile."

"Its good to have friends." She agreed as she fastened a metal clip to hold the bandage in place around Nathan’s throat. With that, she had done all that was possible for the healer. Now it would require something beyond what she had learnt in medical school. Nathan’s face had taken on an expression of peaceful slumber and Alex hoped his dreams were pleasant. She replaced the linen around him with fresh sheets and bundled up the soiled ones to dispose. Finally, she pulled a blanket over him and stepped away.

"Its up to him now." She sighed, stripping the latex gloves off her hands. They were stained with blood and Alex tossed them in the bucket Inez had left for purpose. She looked down at herself and saw that her clothes were stained with blood and would require laundering, if they were at all salvageable.

Ezra could see the shadow in her eyes and knew the minor miracle she performed tonight had taken its toll on her as well. At that moment, she looked a universe away from the beautiful woman who had stepped off the stage this afternoon. With a sudden flash of insight, he looked at her and had to ask. "Have you done this before?" It never occurred to him to ask until now. Earlier on, she had acted with such confidence that they had all believed she must have been a seasoned physician. However, now he was not so sure.

Alex met his gaze uncomfortably. "I have assisted and I have seen the surgery done before but no," she shook her head putting to rest that particular question. "I’ve never operated on my own before."

"You should have said something." He declared, remembering how terrified he had been to simply remove a bullet with a pair of clamps. He could not even begin to imagine how frightened she must have been to conduct the surgery all on her own for the first time.

"You didn’t ask." She half smiled. "Besides, if I had said something, none of you would not have let do my job and he would have died. Isn’t that true?"

Remembering how Buck had behaved earlier that afternoon and Chris’ startled discovery that their new doctor was a female, Ezra could not defend his friends by saying otherwise. "You are correct." He nodded. "We would have been blinded by our concerns for his well being. I thought you were a doctor."

"I am a doctor being a lady doctor in this day and age is a kin practicing witchcraft to some people," Alex tried to explain as she began packing up. "It has been made clear that we are not wanted. I applied for a dozen position across Europe in the worst places and they still would not accept me because of my gender. I read somewhere that they were desperate in the American west for good physicians, so I took a gamble and came out here."

Ezra understood what it was like to be on the other end of a male dominated society. He had seen his mother battle it all her life. While she used schemes to succeed in her ambitions, Ezra knew if she had been a legitimate businesswoman, she would have been a tycoon by now. These days, things had improved considerably. However, progress still rarely allowed for the influx of women into professional fields to be treated indiscriminately. "You have my respect Miss Styles."

It suddenly occurred to Alex that she had no idea what this man’s name was. "What do they call you anyway?"

Ezra smiled his most charming dimpled grin and replied gallantly. "I am Ezra Standish at your service."

"And him?" She glanced at Nathan.

"He is Nathan Jackson. Until you arrived, he was the local healer."

"Local healer?" She asked not understanding.

"During the War of the States, Nathan had been assigned to a northern hospital. He gained a considerable knowledge regarding the healing arts. In the locality, he is able to offer his services to mend broken bones, treat gun shot wounds and a small variety of ailments. It was his idea that Mrs Travis began a search for a qualified doctor. Apparently Nathan did not feel he was qualified to do any more than that. Before your arrival, he was sending people to Eagle Bend if anything was beyond his ability."

"What happened to him?" Alex asked, wondering why a man liked this deserve to be shot so savagely. It sounded as if Nathan Jackson was a caring and responsible man who appeared to value the sanctity of life above all else, too much to end up in such a tragic state.

"All we know is that he was ambushed on his way from his monthly examination of the people at the near Indian reservation." Ezra answered, feeling his jaw tighten with anger at the person or persons who had taken part in such a cowardly attack. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Ezra had time to feel the rage that was buried until now. Like the others, he wanted retribution.

"There was a lot of anger behind this." Alex observed. "Anyone of those bullets could have been perceived as fatal. Whoever shot him wanted to leave nothing to chance." She pointed out.

Ezra nodded in agreement. His instincts warned him of something on the horizon. Nathan’s attack seemed to be the opening act of drama that may have grave implications for the seven lawmen of Four Corners.

When Ezra and Alex finally made their appearance downstairs, everyone who mattered was present in the saloon, waiting for news regarding Nathan’s condition. The moment they appeared, Josiah rose to his feet and quickly asked. "How is he?" The preacher looked at Alex intently. Indeed, all eyes were turned to the young woman wearing nothing more than a robe stained with blood.

"If he survives the night, he’ll have a good chance." Alex replied honestly.

She saw a wave of genuine relief move through the room like a ripple of water and realised that Mr Jackson had great many people who cared for him

Inez had taken to serving cups of coffee to those present. It gave her something to do while they waited. The room had been almost deathly silent in the hours before Ezra and the new doctor’s reappearance. No one wanted to wish the worst but then again, what they had seen of Nathan’s condition, did not inspire hope otherwise. Josiah seemed to be the worse for it because Nathan and he were closest. In essence they were all comrades but Josiah’s relationship of Nathan had preceded the formation of the fellowship. Mary Travis was similarly concerned, Inez noticed. The pretty young widow spent most of her time next to Chris. No one made note of their intertwining fingers table.

"Would you like some coffee?" Inez inquired of the new arrival to Four Corners. Doctor Styles looked almost pale, which was saying quite a bit considering the dusky colour of her skin.

"No." She shook her head politely but her eyes noticed the bottle of whisky in the middle of the table. Without saying anything else, she poured herself a glass on approach and down it with one sharp tilt of her head. The men looked at her with some surprise although Ezra, Mary and Inez noticed that she was shaking slightly. Once the amber liquid had disappeared down her throat, Alex looked up at the others. "I needed that."

Once she had composed herself, she spoke again. "Someone should be stay with him." Alex replied. "I don’t think that there will be any complications but I need to get cleaned up." She gestured to her soiled clothes. "I’ll try not to be too long but he really should not be alone."

"I’ll do it." Mary spoke up, rising from her chair. "Thank you Doctor Styles."

"Call me Alex." Alex answered, unaccustomed to that title just yet. She had earned her diploma long ago but had seldom been called doctor by anyone, that it felt somewhat unsettling hearing it now.

"Can we see him ma’am?" Josiah inquired. His initial fears had dissolved somewhat because Josiah had faith in Nathan’s ability to endure. He sensed the sincerity in the new doctor’s diagnosis and took comfort that god was at least giving Nathan a fighting chance at survival.

"Of course." Alex nodded, admiring the concern they all shared. "However, he needs his rest so one or two at a time." In truth, Nathan Jackson would be oblivious to any visitation by his friends but the gesture was more for their benefit that his own.

"Thank you kindly ma’am." He said politely and then proceeded up the stairs without any further hesitation.

The grim atmosphere in the room had abated slightly now that they had some hopeful intelligence regarding Nathan’s condition. However, the underlying anger still remained concealed under the acknowledgment that their immediate crisis had passed. Chris surveyed the faces around him and saw that the weariness in all expressions. It was after all a few hours away from dawn and most of them had been awake all night. "Ezra," Chris turned to the gambler who slipping on his coat. "Why don’t you walk Doctor Styles back to the hotel?" They had things to discuss and as much as the woman had proven her ability, she was still a stranger and Chris was unwilling to make her privy to his plans to deal with this situation.

"That’s not necessary," Alex started to say but he froze the protest with a cool stare. Somehow, Alex had the impression she would be escorted no matter what she thought.

"Yes it is." Chris said hardly registering the protest, even if he did, he ignored it. "Ezra?" He met the gambler eyes that immediately discerned that was a motive behind the sudden gesture of chivalry to the lady.

"Mr Larabee has spoken." Ezra said understanding what Chris was alluding. "I would not bother arguing with him." He turned to Alex with a charming smile. "I have found it to be a pointless exercise."

"Trust me," Mary remarked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Mary more than any person in the room could understand what it was to be in Alex Style’s position. The exasperation and frustration that Chris Larabee was capable of engendering was something she was completely familiar with. "I know."

Chris gave Mary a look before he returned his high powered gaze back to Alex. "Thank you for what you did Miss Styles. We’ll be sure to expect you back when you’re ready."

"Well," Alex let out a sigh of weariness ignoring the almost obligatory response. "I had help." She glanced at Ezra. Despite herself, Alex could not shake the belief that the imperceptible Mr Larabee was summarily dismissing her. Although, the idea raised her ire to no end, Alex was too tired to deal with it. The day had been exhausting as it was since she spent half of it on a stage coach, followed by the trials of settling in and the marathon of events that had taken place since Larabee first turned up at her door. Suddenly, she had a need for a bath and a good night’s sleep. Since she was needed in attendance at her patient’s side, Alex would be content with just the first.

"Shall we?" Ezra gestured towards the door.

Alex let out a deep sigh and studied the man anew. Now that they were away from the pressures of the surgery, where she was not required to rely on him without question, Alex realised she knew nothing about this man who was playing escort. It was not her habit to simply go off with strange man and she wished once again that Larabee had allowed her to return to the hotel without company.

Nevertheless, it appeared she had little choice at the moment and followed him out without reply.

*******

Once they were gone, Chris was able to talk freely. While he meant no disrespect to the new doctor, Chris was wary of anyone he did not know well. The people in the room had shared more than friendship, they had seen out danger and other trials together, he knew without doubt that everyone present shared the same commitment to each other as he did. By that same token, Chris knew with certainty that each of them was similarly outraged by this cowardly attack on Nathan Jackson. Their concern for him united them with iron clad solidarity to bring those guilty to justice or worse, if necessary.

However, the reality of the situation required they find him first, wherever he might be and that complicated the matter considerably. There was a lot of land beyond Four Corners and Nathan would be no help to them until he regained consciousness. His would be killers could put a lot of distance between themselves and the crime before that time. Despite the difficulties ahead, Chris did not intend to give them any more of an advantage than they already had. He meant to find these men and he meant to make them pay.

"We can fill Ezra in when he gets back," Chris said opening the conversation; they were all waiting to here. Each one of the remaining seven were poised to act and they required only Chris’ word to do so.

"Vin," Chris began after considering what course of action they ought to take. "You and me will ride out to the reserve at first light. I want to know if Chano or any his people saw anything that might help us. Whoever shot Nathan knew when he was leaving the reservation to ambush him further up the trail. They would have had to keeping lookout to know when he started riding back to town."

Vin seemed to agree with Chris’ assessment, recalling what he had observed from the tracks he had examined earlier on. . The four men on horse back had ridden towards Four Corners but had never arrived here, at least not that they were aware of. "We ought to check out Purgatory too." Vin suggested. The tracks he had seen headed away towards Four Corners but since they were working on the assumption that the men had not come here, there was little else in this direction other than Purgatory. Beyond that was too much of a gap to the next town for them to attempt the ride without a stopover for supplies. Not only was the collection of shantytowns the most uncivilised place in the territory but it was also the home to many murderers and cutthroats. In essence, there was no better hiding place for a group of murderers.

"Good idea." Chris nodded and saw Mary frowning slightly. He was aware that she had no found memories of Purgatory and it concerned her whenever he went there. These days however, Mary had a more personal reason than ever to worry over his life. Chris said nothing to allay her fears while in the presence of the others but he made a mental note to do so once they were alone. After all this years, it was easy to forget how his life style might effect the woman in his life. He had remembered similar concerns raised by Sarah when he was riding from one place to another, danger dogging his every step on some occasion. Mary had not sought to change him because Chris believed what he was excited her a little but she was in the nature of things, a woman who felt things deeply and who had already lost one man to violence. It was understandable if she did not want the same thing to happen to him.

"Buck, JD." He looked to the two friends. There was a great deal of ground to cover and Chris had a feeling that time was not on their side. "I want you to talk to everyone in town. Go do the rounds of the other saloons in town to see if anyone knows anything about strangers asking after Nathan." Buck was always the best man to send out for such investigation. He had a naturally disarming manner that made people unafraid to talk to him.

"I’ll get on it." Buck said nodding firmly, knowing the procedure well enough to have a few ideas of his own. "JD and I might also talk to the folks at the hotel and maybe look around the lodging houses to see if anyone new has come into town and laying low."

"Good idea." Chris agreed. Personally, he did not think Nathan’s attackers would be foolish enough to remain in Four Corners but then very little about this whole affair made any sense. It was wise to be thorough when so much about this situation was puzzling.

"I can wire the judge." Mary suggested, wanting to help in her own way. Nathan was one of her closest friends in Four Corners, she liked and respected the man who gave so much of himself. "I know its unlikely to be a random attack but there might be someone out there we don’t know about whom Nathan might have run into. Perhaps someone who did not want to be found." She hinted, although she did not seem very hopeful. The attack on Nathan seemed far too brutal to be a random act of violence. It was like what Chris had said; someone had come after him specifically. However, knowing who was currently at large might narrow down their search considerably.

"She’s right." The bounty hunter stated. "We’re assuming that it was someone who had something against Nathan. Could be just he got in their way." It was not unheard of for such a thing to happen. There were so many outlaws running loose across the Territory that it was quite possible for an innocent bystander to become caught in their crossfire.

"Mary and I will take turns looking after Nathan." Inez offered. "I’m here more than you are Mary. It would be easier for me to look in on Nathan while I’m working. Besides, it’s usually quiet during the day."

In retrospect, Mary could not deny her friend’s words. She had a paper to run and Inez was correct about being in closer proximity to Nathan since it was unlikely that he could be moved from his room for some time. "You’re right." Mary nodded. "I’ll take over in the evenings."

"Uh Chris," JD suddenly spoke up as a thought occurred to him. The young men rarely offered an opinion, preferring to allude to the wisdom of his older companions. However, he was forced to speak because as of yet no one else had considered the notion. "What if they come back?"

Everyone stopped talking.

"Come back?" Mary exclaimed having none of the restraint possessed by the men in the room. "Why would they come back?" However, judging by the look on Chris and the others, it appeared that even though they had not considered the possibility before, it now left a feeling of unease in its wake. JD had brought up a very valid point.

"They were damn sure trying to kill Nathan." Buck retorted, remembering the blood he had seen in the dark sand. His stomach hollowed at the sight of the puddle when he realised the blood belonged to Nathan. "If word gets out that they didn’t finish the job, they may come back to do it right."

"I’ll stay behind with Ezra." Josiah announced his return to the table as he walked down the stairs. "We’ll make sure nobody gets near Nathan unless they want a priestly send off to god." The hard edge to Josiah’s normally soothing voice was enough to send a shiver of ice through most of them. Josiah was always the level headed preacher who never had an ill word for anyone no matter how much they might deserve one. Seeing him so determined, unsettled everyone including Chris, who was normally unperturbed by anything.

"Alright then," Chris decided that it was definitely time for them to turn in on that note. "Let’s rest up," he said rising to his feet. "It will be light in a few hours and we’ve all got jobs to do."

There was a hunt to begin.

*********

"Is there a Mr Styles anywhere?" Alex heard Ezra asked as they started walking back to the hotel. She was still somewhat disgruntled about the abrupt way she was ushered out of the saloon. While she had not expected them to fall over her in gratitude, it stung somewhat that she was so easily discarded once her usefulness to them had ended.

"Married?" Alex regarded his question and was surprised that it did not seem as obvious to him that there could not be. "No." She said unable to hide the amusement at the question. "I’ve hardly had the time the past few years." In truth, Alex had no wish for a husband. It had taken her long enough to earn her degree and then faced the humiliation for being ostracised from the medical community because of her gender. After all that, she had no wish to give a man that much power over her personal life, considering that they already held so much dominance over her professional one. "What about you? Is there a Mrs Standish?"

"Only my mother." Ezra said quickly. "In my current occupation, it is too much of a complication."

"Exactly." Alex pointed out, glad that much was out in the open. "So what do you do in Four Corners?" Outwardly, Ezra Standish looked no different from any European gamblers she had seen abroad, who moved from one place to another in search of the best stakes.

"Little as possible," he remarked and was pleased when she uttered a soft laugh. "Actually, I own the saloon." Really, he shared ownership with his mother but there was no reason to offer this beautiful woman that much detail into his business affairs. "Its just a little distraction during my stay in this far municipality."

She loved the way he spoke. "You remind me of an English professor I used to have." Alex replied and decided that Ezra Standish could grow on her. During the surgery, there had been little opportunity to study him personally beyond the need to decide if he was capable of helping her during the operation.

He was very handsome. That much could not be denied. Without even having to know it for certain, Alex was certain that boyish smile had saved him from numerous untenable situations. There were not many men she had ever encountered who was able to wear that roguish charm while possessing the visage of the perfect gentlemen. While the colour of his eyes were almost the same as Chris Larabee’s, their substance were worlds apart. The black garbed stranger who pounded on her door hours before had the eyes of predator. Alex could think of no other way to describe it. In her travels, she had known men like him and recognised that his eyes sang siren songs of peril. To love a man like that was to prepare to dash oneself against a rock and hope for the best. In any case, it was simply too much effort.

Ezra Standish however, was another thing entirely. This was the kind of man that could drive the woman he loved him to distraction, even if she savoured every illicit moment of her journey there. If one could overlook the flaws hidden by that charming exterior, he could be a wild ride.

"The joys of private school." Ezra shrugged, unable to decide whether he ought to smother her in usual charming manner towards the ladies or to try a more genuine approach. Instinct told Ezra to attempt the later. For some reason, he had a feeling that Alex Styles would be able to see through him if he tried something as clumsy as that. Ezra had no wish to present any façades to a woman with such a sharp intellect. Despite himself, he had a weakness for strong women, a residual effect of being raised by an equally strong mother, who had taken a man’s game and turned it into an art.

"I remember." Alex said understanding all too well. "My poor father had decided when I turned thirteen that it was time I became a proper young lady. This was after spending the first thirteen years scrambling all across the world him. I lasted about a year and half before the mistress wrote him with a polite but firm request to take me away."

Ezra tried to imagine this elegant woman as a scrappy tomboy and could not picture it. "Well I was not so extreme," Ezra answered after a moment. "I just kept writing these letters to my mother, informing her that I was going to take up the priesthood. She was so horrified by the prospect of a son of hers becoming a man of the cloth that she arrived to withdraw me from school within the month."

"I had to do some fast talking," Alex confessed. "Or else I would have ended up in a nunnery. I don’t think I ever saw my father so angry with me."

"I am glad that you were spared that fate," he said gallantly. "I for one would think it a terrible misfortune to men everywhere."

"Why Mr Standish," she said as they reached the doors to the hotel. "Are you trying to charm me?" There was a hint of teasing in her voice.

"Certainly not," he answered, with a look of mock hurt. "After everything we’ve been through?"

On that note, she sobered remembering that he had been through something of an ordeal. "I could not have done it without you Mr Standish." She said honestly. "It was hard enough for me, I could not imagine what it was like for you."

"He’s my friend." Ezra replied without hesitation or thought. "I could not let him die when it was in my power to help him."

"Under the circumstances, you acted admirably." Alex commended. "I’ve seen more experience men falter by the prospect of surgery."

"How do you cope?" He asked, genuinely curious. It seemed like such a terrible vocation for such refined woman. "It cannot be any less daunting for you."

"My father gave me a piece of advice once." She said softly, remembering the old man with a pang of grief, not yet discarded completely by time. "He said the flesh is like sculptors clay and when the pieces are broken, its best to treat it as such."

"Does it work?" He looked at her sceptically.

"Not one bit." She retorted. "But the memory of my father does." With that, she took a step towards the open doors of the hotel. "Goodnight Mr Standish."

Ezra tipped his hat slightly. "Goodnight Ms Styles."

She looked up at him as the moonlight danced off her skin and offered him a dazzling smile. "Call me Alex."

Ezra found himself smiling. "I would be honoured to, Alex."

She disappeared into the building, leaving him standing on the walkway, staring after her. Ezra suddenly had the feeling his life had just become a great deal more complicated.

PART THREE:

OPENING MOVES

JD Dunne arrived at the jailhouse the next morning, feeling like a hundred miles of bad road. Although he was anxious to begin his investigation with Buck for any leads on Nathan’s attackers; he would be lying if he said he did not wish for a few more hours of sleep. In truth, none of the seven had really slept for more than a few hours since they disbanded from the saloon. No one could really sleep with the memory of Nathan’s horrific injuries still fresh in their mind. JD in particular, had tossed and turned in his sheets, trying to force away images that it could have been easily any one of them in Nathan’s position.

It was during such moments that JD was forced to take a hard look at the life he had chosen for himself. When he was a boy, he had wished for nothing more than to be one of the legendary men he often read about in the dime store novels. Their rough and tumble existence had left a profound mark upon him and as soon as he was old enough to leave home, JD had taken the first stage out West. Fortunately, as he was to learn, he had survived the grim fate of other starry eyed young men on the same mission when he had joined up with Chris Larabee.

Actually, he had not really joined up as the others had. JD had more or less followed the seasoned men until they relented and allowed him to their circle. Although he sometimes felt intimidated by their experience, JD knew they were as close as family and they protected their own with just as much intensity, which was probably why Nathan’s attack had incensed them all so much.

His duties as sheriff were really quite routine. Since Chris was really the man running things, a situation which JD did not at all mind, his visit to the jailhouse was mostly for house keeping. He checked on the welfare of the one prisoner currently being held and saw that the drunk had effectively slept off the previous night’s libation and was eager to get home. JD released him with the obligatory warning and then eased behind the sheriff ‘s desk to examine the morning’s mail. These were usually federal warnings about who was in the area, a number of wanted posters and such.

JD scoured through them with little interest, doing so because it was one of the more tedious requirements of the Silver Star he wore on his breast. Most of it was discarded in the waste paper basket under the desk. He got to a number of wanted posters and unrolled them from their brown wrapping, so he could pin them up on the wall. The faces he came across belonged to men who looked every bit as mean as the list of charged tallied against them. It was the last one that caught JD’s interest.

"Oh shoot!" He exclaimed as he stared at the face and the angry words beneath it.

The poster rolled back to its curled position as JD jumped from his chair. He grabbed the length of paper and ran out of the jailhouse, praying he would catch Vin Tanner before he left with Chris for the reservation.

*******

"Is Vin here?" JD asked as he burst in the bat wing doors of the saloon. Only Ezra and Josiah were present and with a sinking feeling, JD did not need either man to answer the question because the saloon was empty at this time of morning and he could see neither Vin or Chris.

"What’s wrong?" Josiah inquired without bothering to answer the young man who was quite out of breath by the time he ambled towards them, clutching the roll of paper tightly in his grip. There was genuine alarm on JD’s face and after last nigh, Josiah wondered what else could have happened.

"Its this." He said coming to the table where Ezra and Josiah were having breakfast. Both men quickly moved aside their plates as JD rolled out the document for their viewing.

WANTED FOR MURDER

VIN TANNER

REWARD

$2000.00

DEAD OR ALIVE

"How does this happen?" JD looked at the two men in question. "I thought the reward on him was five hundred dollars!"

"It appears not." Ezra said looking just as mystified. It was almost unprecedented that the amount for a reward should surge so dramatically, particularly when the criminal in question had committed no further crimes since the original charge. However, it was there for all to see in plain black and white so it was no mistake.

"He’s going to have every bounty hunter in the Territory after him." Josiah remarked unhappily and studied the poster with close scrutiny. Like Ezra, he knew the unlikelihood of this sudden upswing in reward money. Five hundred dollars might have been enough to keep people away, especially with when there were six men who would die before allowing Vin to be taken back to Tascoma where the bounty originated. However, two thousand dollars had a way of making a sensible man take risks he would normally walk away from and Josiah had a bad feeling that a number of these misbegotten souls were now on their way to Four Corners.

"Has he left?" JD asked in vain hope. Vin had to be warned about what was coming his way. Not just Vin now but Chris, since it was likely that he would become caught in the cross fire. Not that either man had any trouble defending himself but two thousand dollars went a long way and could pay for a dozen hired guns. Against those odds, JD was not so sure the two men could prevail.

"As first light I believe." Ezra replied trying to decide what to do. Vin had made it no secret that Four Corners was his present address thus it would not take long for anyone wishing to claim this exorbitant sum of money, to find their way here. "We’re going to have to rearrange our plans." Ezra decided, hoping Chris would not mind him countermanding his orders but the situation seemed to demand it.

"Mr Dunne, you need to go after them." Ezra declared, gaining a silent nod of agreement from Josiah who looked up long enough from his examination of the wanted poster. They both knew what was coming even if JD did not. It might be a good idea that Vin to give Four Corners a wide berths while they dealt with this current predicament.

"Okay," JD answered without question. Not only was he pleased to be trusted to undertake this job alone but he also understood the urgency of the matter. Vin needed to know of the threat to his life. They all knew that if Vin Tanner did not want to be found, there was not a bounty hunter in the world that could do otherwise. However, Vin needed to know someone was looking to be able to make that timely disappearance.

"Wait a minute," Josiah spoke up before JD could make a hasty departure. The preacher had sat up in his chair and was leaning in for a closer look of the paper. "Ezra, take a look at this." He gestured the gambler to some fine printing on the bottom of the poster.

"I hope you found that it was printed on the 1st April and it was late in arriving." Ezra dead panned as he leaned over to where Josiah was indicating. Somehow, he did not think that Josiah had found some legal loophole. Most of the bounty hunters would hardly see past the numbers let alone take the time to read the rest of it. However, after a moment, he looked up at Josiah. "Is this right?"

"What?" JD asked, not liking the idea that something was going on beneath his notice again.

"Its says here," Ezra met the young man’s gaze with confusion of his own. "That the federal reward is a still five hundred dollars."

"I don’t understand." JD said blankly. "If its still five hundred dollars…."

"It means," Josiah answered for the benefit of the uninformed, "the two thousand dollar reward has been put up privately."

"Privately?" JD exclaimed. "You mean someone is doing this to him on purpose?"

"It appears that way." Ezra retorted. "I think you better make haste young man," he prompted JD to get a move on. "I’ll tell Buck what’s happening."

"I’m on it." The young man swept out of the saloon, filled with purpose at being assigned this important task. He liberated the poster from Josiah before leaving so he had something to show Vin and Chris when he found them. After he was gone, Ezra turned back to Josiah. "You have a feeling that there’s an ill wind blowing my friend?"

"We need to find out who put up this money." The preacher pointed out.

"I agree." Ezra nodded. "With Nathan’s shooting, it seems too much of a coincidence."

"At least it puts paid to rest on whether Nathan’s attack was personal." Josiah commented. Like Chris, they had all believed that this was because of some unknown vendetta against Nathan Jackson. However, with this latest turn of events, it appeared that they were partially correct. The vendetta was personal but it appeared to be against more than just one of them. If what he suspected was true, Josiah realised that this was only the first act of a much large play.

"It somewhat complicates matters." Ezra sighed, because he had come to the same conclusion. "Our field of concentration had just widened considerably. We have made a great many men angry at us over the last year, it is going to be difficult to narrow it down."

"They’ll overplay their hand." Josiah drawled. "They always do."

Ezra was about to question the preacher on how he had come to that reassuring conclusion when he saw Inez coming down the stairs from the rooms above the saloon. She looked weary and Ezra felt somewhat concerned at the dark circles under her eyes. She had kept a vigil at Nathan’s bedside for most of the night and had still managed to wake up early enough to make them a fine breakfast.

"Inez, you look exhausted." He stated and rose to his feet, pulling out a chair for her to sit.

The bronzed skin beauty did not refuse and her acceptance convinced him all the more that she needed to rest. He poured her a cup of coffee and lay if before her. Inez offered him a smile, radiant even when she was so tired. It was easy to become trapped in that flicker of beauty, even for a moment. "Thank you Ezra." She replied warmly.

"How is he doing?" Josiah inquired. He had been up to check on Nathan a few times himself but Inez had been spending most of the time with him. It was necessary for Josiah and Ezra to remain in the saloon with as wide a field of vision in the unlikely event that Nathan’s would be killers returned.

"He sleeps," she said with a shrug. "I give him his medicine like the doctor says, every four hours."

"Doctor Styles made a few returns over the course of the night and the morning, to check up on Mr Jackson’s progress." Ezra informed him dutifully.

"We can take turns for a while." Josiah offered; not blind to how weary the young woman before him appeared. She was a good woman, he thought silently to himself, rare in her capacity for compassion despite that fiery temper and iron clad spirit. "Why don’t you get some rest."

Josiah was one of the few people Inez trusted to behave responsibly. If it were Ezra making the offer, she would be reluctant to accept. However, Josiah was an entirely different matter. She knew he could be relied upon with complete trust to undertake anything asked of him. "I think I might take that offer." She said trying to stifle a yawn. "Wake me in an hour or so."

"Anyone see JD?" Buck Wilmington’s irritated voice broke the back of the conversation as he made a sudden entry through the doors of the saloon. Buck had been supposed to meet JD at the jailhouse some time ago and the boy’s absence gave him concern. Buck had taken JD under his wing since the young man’s arrival in Four Corners and he often felt responsible for his welfare.

"He’s on his way to find Chris and Vin." Josiah replied automatically.

"He’s supposed to be helping me to talk to people around town about what happened last night." Buck said gruffly as he walked towards their table.

"Something came up. Sit down." Josiah said in that voice which broke no arguments.

Immediately Buck tensed, sensing some new peril on the horizon. Inez, who was just as much in the dark, shared his same look of puzzlement. "What’s happened?"

"The reward on Mr Tanner has just risen to two thousand dollars."

"Two thousand dollars!" Buck practically roared. "I thought it was five hundred dollars!"

"Someone has put a private bounty on our Mr Tanner," Ezra informed completely accustomed to Buck’s outbursts. He had seen them on numerous occasions before. "I sent JD after him to inform him of what has happened."

"We’re going to have every two bit hustler who thinks he can handle a gun come riding into town looking for him." Buck glowered.

"Who would do such a thing?" Inez demanded with more feeling in her voice towards Vin then she cared to show. Buck stared at her for a brief instance, taking note of the display. Inez felt a great deal of tenderness towards Vin Tanner for he, along with Mary Travis had convinced her to stop running from Don Paulo when he had discovered here. Vin, who knew more about running from the past than anyone, had been the first person to offer her his unconditional support in her decision to remain. While their relationship had never extended beyond simple friendship, they were nevertheless very close and she worried for his life under this sudden turn of events.

"I don’t know." Josiah sighed loudly, wishing Chris Larabee was not always so right about things getting worse.

*******

The woman who entered Mary Travis’ office had only been a resident of Four Corners for less than two months. Since her arrival, she had caused much gossip in town as locals tried to discern her origins. Not much older than Mary herself, Victoria Kendall had arrived in Four Corners and had promptly established the Emporium, which was so popular with the women in town. From what Mary had been able to learn of her origins, Victoria was unmarried with a sizeable fortune of her own and quite the adept businesswoman. Although Mary had little occasion to interact with her during the past months, their few meetings had always been warm and friendly. Nevertheless Victoria’s presence in her office did cause some surprise since it was usually her business partner, the sombre Mr Wilkins who did most of her errands.

"Victoria." Mary rose from behind her desk and came to greet the auburn haired woman. Although she could never be called a beauty, Victoria had intriguing green eyes that seemed to negate any lacking she may had in physical attributes. "How nice to see you."

"Likewise Mary." Victoria smiled at her as the two women returned to Mary’s desk. She took the seat that Mary offered and waited until the widow was herself seated before continuing.

"What brings you here?" Mary inquired. "I hope the advertising in the Clarion suits your purposes still?" The Kendall Emporium had been using advertising space in the Clarion News ever since it opened. While the size of the advertisements had decreased, they were now a regular fixture in the newspaper. They also added much-needed revenue to the profits for which Mary was grateful

"It does." Victoria replied. "I came here on a private matter, Mary." She said leaning forward.

"I see." Mary sat straight in her chair, a stance she usually took when she was preparing to listen closely. "What sort of matter?"

Victoria hesitated and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. An expression stole across her face that seemed to border on distaste and discomfiture. Mary wondered what could be so terrible that she had such difficulty voicing it? "There’s no way to put this delicately, Mary." She said after a moment. "So I guess I’ll just have to say it."

"Say what?" Mary asked with rising curiosity.

"About your relationship with Mr Larabee."

Of all the things that she could have said, that was the thing Mary had least expected. For a moment, she was left completely speechless. When she recovered enough to respond, her thoughts were racing. "What relationship with Mr Larabee?" She answered trying to feign ignorance.

"There has been talk around town that you and Mr Larabee are involved." Victoria remarked, watching her closely for a reaction.

"There has always been such innuendo." Mary replied coolly. "Mr Larabee and I are friends."

"Look," Victoria sighed. "It’s none of my business what you do with your personal affairs Mary, I mean I’ve seen him, he is a very attractive man. However the talk I have heard indicates you are having an intimate relationship with Mr Larabee and you should be very concerned whether or not it’s true or false."

Mary did not know how to respond because in all essence it was true and she was uncertain whether she was prepared to lie about it. "I’ve heard the talk," Mary lying. "Its been going on since he arrived in town. Most of it is attributed to the fact that he deals with the judge through me. I am the seven’s liaison with Orin. To get word to him, I have to send him a wire. That’s as far as it has always gone."

"I’m glad." Victoria said with a relieved sigh. "When Mr Wilkins told me that someone had told him Mr Larabee was making some distasteful remarks about the two of you, I was certain that it was a lie. After all, attractive he may be but what decent woman would throw away her reputation on a gunslinger of all things?"

Mary managed a faint smile. "Not a very proper one I suppose." She replied, trying to hide the fact that Victoria’s words had shaken her. Despite what was said however, Mary refused to believe that Chris would make light of their relationship to anyone. She knew how he felt about her and most she knew how difficult it was for him to admit to those feelings. Obviously someone in town had nothing better to do than spread malicious rumours about them and Mary was going to ignore it.

"Well," Victoria rose to her feet on that note. "I just thought you should be aware. Please don’t take my informing you as interference."

"Certainly not," Mary offered the woman a comforting smile. "I appreciate the concern." She followed Victoria to see her out of the office, all the while hiding the butterflies in her stomach. Mary was hardly aware of anything the woman was saying except that she was required to make obligatory responses. When Victoria was gone, Mary found herself in state of panic. Rumours were nothing new to her. Since the arrival of the seven in Four Corners, such stories had been whispered about her relationship with the men and in particular, Chris. Most of it was ignore as idle gossip and largely ignored but Victoria Kendall’s intelligence had struck close to home. Could anyone have seen Chris leaving her house in the middle of the night? She knew Chris had taken care to not be seen but not even he was completely infallible. It only took one person.

She decided that she was not going to become paranoid. These were rumours, no different from the ones that had emerged since the first time Chris Larabee had walked into her office.

It would blow over soon enough.

********

Buck Wilmington was not having a good day. In fact, if truth were known, he was having a pretty lousy and unproductive morning. So far, he had been through every gin joint, hole in the wall bar and watering hole in Four Corners and had yet to find anything that might indicate strangers with an inordinate interest in Nathan Jackson. No one new had displayed any interest in any of the seven for quite some time and it did not take him long to realise that there was nothing to find. He had even gone to the hotel and convinced the hotel clerk to let him study the register book. However, as he had already found in the lodging houses and hostels he had visited earlier, no one had registered that could be considered dangerous.

Buck had gone so far as to question some of the newer arrivals and found little to implicate them in Nathan’s attacks. It would not have been so terrible if he had not learnt something else that was equally disturbing if not life threatening. By the time he had returned to the saloon, he had heard so many outlandish stories that his temper was teetering on a knife’s edge. To say nothing of how Chris Larabee was going to take it when Buck had the enviable task of telling him what he had learnt.

"What is going on in this town?" Buck asked out loud when he returned to the saloon later that morning.

Josiah was upstairs with Nathan while Inez rested so Ezra was tending bar, with his gun close at hand and his derringer safely hidden out of sight.

"Whatever do you mean?" Ezra responded, pouring him a drink because it looked like he needed one.

Buck came to the counter and slapped his hat hard against the bar, his anger clearly shown in his face. It was unusual for Buck to be angry about anything, Ezra had observed in the past, because Buck was one of the most good-natured people he had ever met. On the rare occasions that Buck did get upset, he was a fuse burned brief and would settle down after a short while.

"I have heard nothing about strangers in town." Buck replied grabbing the drink and downing it with a sharp tilt of her head before sliding the shot glass back to Ezra for another hit.

"That was always a possibility Mr Wilmington." Ezra answered. "Expecting success the first time around is somewhat unrealistic."

"I don’t care about that!" Buck said sharply and drew a startled response from Ezra, who was starting to see a larger problem. Buck leaned further over the counter towards him and spoke in a hushed voice as if what he had to say was too terrible to voice out loud. "I heard nothing about Nathan but I heard plenty about Chris and Mrs Travis."

Ezra’s eyes widened in astonishment. "What?"

"Apparently, it sounds like all of Four Corners wants to know how long Chris and Mary have been doing the deed."

"Oh hell." Ezra swore uncharacteristically. "What do you mean all, exactly?"

"Everyone!" Buck retorted. "They know he’s been sleeping with her!"

"There’s always been loose talk about Mr Larabee and the fair Mrs Travis." Ezra countered, hoping Buck’s information was wrong and the good lady’s reputation was not as tattered as it appeared.

"Not like this." Buck returned with a hard edge to his voice that convinced Ezra that he was right. "I was ready to call someone out over these stories. I’m telling you, we’ve got to put a stop to it."

"Exactly how would we do that Mr Wilmington?" Ezra asked sarcastically. "This is not the kind of thing you can put down with a gunfight."

"Well we can’t just stand by and let the lady’s reputation get dragged through the mud!" He responded. "Can you imagine how Chris will be when it gets to him?"

Actually Ezra could imagine quite vividly exactly what his reaction would be and while the specifics eluded the gambler, it would no doubt be colourful indeed, if not somewhat fatal. "Buck, this is the one thing they have to deal with themselves. Now, we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later. They’ve been together for almost a month now and at some point, word was bound to get out. The only solution to this problem is if they solidified the nature of their relationship with say a wedding ring?"

"Chris is not going to like being pushed into a wedding." Buck said without a trace of doubt in his voice. It was hard enough getting the gunslinger to admit how he felt about the widow and acting upon it, let alone dangle the prospect of marriage in front of him.

"Well perhaps he is just going to have to grow up." Ezra retorted with just as much directness. "It’s not about him, its about Mrs Travis. We owe her a great deal more than just a dollar a day and you know it."

Buck could not refute Ezra’s words. In fact, the gambler had made his point with complete accuracy. Chris was always mindful of Mary’s reputation, knowing that she placed a great deal more than just her life on the line when she spoke out in their defence. So far, she had remained unscathed despite the niggling rumours that had been known to surface from time to time. However, things had changed considerably in the last month between Chris and Mary. The rumours engendered by that change would not be so easy to disregard.

"Now what’s happened?" Josiah asked, having heard the fervent conversation below and had come out to investigate.

Buck and Ezra exchanged glances, wondering how they were going to put this. Ezra finally looked over his shoulder at the preacher and remarked. "Let’s just say, we may have to buy rice."

"I don’t even want to know." He said before going back the way he came.

*******

It was almost noon by the time JD Dunne arrived at the Indian village and found Chris and Vin. The two men were sitting around the campfire at Chano’s tent, when JD came bounding up to them out of breath. Upon seeing the youth, both men immediately suspected the worse and rose to his feet.

"Chris! Vin!" JD gushed, "I’m glad I found you."

"What’s wrong JD?" Vin asked first.

"This." JD said breathing heavily as he reached them. He handed the poster to Vin who promptly unrolled it. Without saying anything, Chris came along side Vin to take a look at what had made JD ride all this way to deliver. After perusing the rolled up poster, Chris decided that its contents did warrant JD’s sudden arrival.

"What is it?" Chano inquired, realising that something terrible was being hurled at his friend, who happened to be the only white man he trusted.

"Looks like things are catching up with me." Vin said handing the poster to Chris who wanted a better look. "Two thousand dollars is a lot of money."

"Josiah said it wasn’t right." JD pointed out, remembering his conversation with the preacher and Ezra before leaving Four Corners.

"Yeah I see it." Chris nodded in agreement.

"What?" Vin turned back to the gunslinger, to see what it was he had missed.

"Someone put the reward up." Chris replied, still studying the document. Its says the Federal reward is still five hundred dollars."

"That’s right." JD added. "That’s what Ezra and Josiah said. They think someone else put the money to up the reward. Someone who has something against all of us, not just Vin."

That did not sit well with Vin because he knew what was coming. He was a bounty hunter himself once and he knew how powerful the lure of two thousand dollars could be. "They’ll be coming in herds." He said grimly. "That’s too much money to walk away from."

"Then you can stay here." Chano offered, remembering he owed a life debt to Vin Tanner. Thanks to Vin, everyone in the village had been spared a fiery death in the wake of his wife’s murder. Vin and Josiah had uncovered the truth about Clare Mosely’s relationship with Chano and who had really murdered her. The townspeople led by Clare’s father, who incidentally happened to be her murderer, were prepared to burn the village to the ground in revenge for her death. Since then, the two men had become fast friends and Chano was aware of Vin’s troubles in Tascoma.

"Thanks but I ain’t putting anyone in danger." Vin replied quickly. "They come looking for me, they’re not going to care about who they kill in the process."

Chris had to agree with that assessment. However, Vin could not return to Four Corners that much was clear not until they figured out a way to deal with the situation.

"Maybe its time to make tracks." The younger man glanced towards the horizon and Chris could guess what was on his mind. JD stared at Chris, trying to prompt him into saying something before Vin rode out of here and disappeared out of their lives for good. Chris did not want Vin to leave any more than JD did; however, he was the only one who could do something about it. He and Vin shared a common bond in the way they looked at things and the two had been close friends since they met almost year ago. Chris was unwilling to let Vin go, not like this anyway.

"No, it isn’t." Chris interjected. "You’ll go to my place and stay there. I’ll get back to town and get Mary to wire the judge. Maybe he can find out whom up the ransom. Worse come to worse, I’ll ride out to Tascoma myself and beat it out of them." There was enough threat in his voice for Vin to know that Chris would do just that if he felt it necessary.

However Vin was not done protesting just yet. He felt uncomfortable at having to hide away while others protected him. "I don’t know Chris, this is really my problem."

"No," Chris shook his head and turned those piercing eyes on him. "It isn’t. Someone’s coming after us." He stated firmly. When Nathan had been shot, Chris had not been sure but this situation with Vin had more or less confirmed the fact. "The only reason for a reward to be hiked up like this is not so that you’d hang. That was already going to happen. Someone did this to drive you out of town."

"Divide and conquer?" JD exclaimed, remembering enough about school to make that judgement.

"For starters," Chris nodded. "Nathan’s was first, now its you." He did not say it out loud but they were all wondering who was next.

********

It was mid afternoon when Inez emerge from the saloon for the first time in almost 24 hours. Since she started working early yesterday, things had moved at such harrowing pace that there had been barely time to catch a breath. Although she did not mind looking after Nathan, she was glad when Mary had come to take over for awhile, allowing Inez the chance to run some errands of her own. As she made her way to the Mrs Potter’s general store, she ran a list in her mind of all the things she would need for the catering she provided in the saloon. Business had been brisk since patrons learnt they could get food as well as liquor at the saloon and most preferred to remain at the bar instead of having to take their custom to the hotel. The atmosphere in the saloon seemed more relaxing to men who were not use to the refined polish of salad forks and dinner plates boasted by the hotel.

As she made her way across the street, Inez considered the gossip that Buck had heard about Mary. Inez did not make any judgements on Mary or her relationship with Chris. Mary Travis was a proper as any woman she had ever met and she did not bestow her favours lightly. She loved Chris Larabee and Inez believed Chris loved her. It was up to them to decide what was proper behaviour in their relationship, not a bunch of narrow minded people who should be minding their own business anyway. At the moment, Buck and the others had yet to decide whether or not they should brings new of this latest piece of scandal to Mary’s attention. So far, it was just harmless talk by local busy body’s but Inez knew Mary would want to put a stop to it even if she did not care what anyone thought about her love affair with Chris.

At this time of the afternoon, most of the residents had withdrawn from the afternoon heat to their homes or any place providing ample shade. In this instance, Inez was glad of the quiet. She needed to do her inventory purchasing quickly before the evening crowd turned up at the saloon expecting dinner. Normally, she would have done this kind of shopping earlier but this whole day had been one un-scheduled drama after the other and Inez had barely had time to think let alone get herself organised. It was almost reaching the end of the trading day and it would not before the shopkeepers started closing up for the evening. Hopefully this meant that there would not be many people in the store and she could make her purchases quickly.

Stepping onto the wooden sidewalk, Inez studied the grocery list in her hand as she headed towards Mrs Potter’s general store, barely aware of anything else around her. The swiftness upon which the hand enclosed her mouth and dragged her into the narrow crack between the shops came with such surprise, that Inez barely knew what was happening until the shadows enclosed around her. Her struggle came all too late and when the sunlight disappeared from her skin, Inez knew her chance of escape had similarly dissolved. She felt her toes scrape against the ground as she was dragged down the small alleyway, seeing a wall of wood blur past her as she struggled helplessly. The grip of her kidnapper was strong enough for her to almost be lifted from the ground. Desperately fighting the blind panic that was threatening to take away any ability she had to fight, Inez bit down hard on the hand over her lips. She caught a sliver of skin between her teeth and ground hard until she felt the salt of blood in her mouth.

A soft grunt of pain exploded in her ear and she felt the grip around her slackened. Inez was poised to run as her feet fell flat against the ground but no sooner than she felt the gravel underneath her soles, was she spun around viciously. Inez had barely time to catch a glimpse at her attacker, when a fist slammed into the side of her jaw. It hit with such force she spun around on her heels, her head spinning in tandem with the red flare of pain.

"Whore." A decidedly male voice replied on the heels of the black veil that fell over her eyes.

********

There was one final moment of clarity before her world changed forever.

Inez became aware of a room. She did not know where it was except that it was likely to be the scene for many nightmares after this day. Her head was still spinning from the blow, but she heard the voices and saw the faces with coloured handkerchiefs hiding their identities from her. Beneath her was straw and over head she could count at least three faces. The men stood regarding her for a moment, with a gleam in her eyes she knew all too well.

She knew then, without doubt or hesitation what they had in mind.

"No."

She tried to speak but the sound never escaped the gag in her mouth. There was an attempt to struggle free but her hands were tied behind her back. Her legs were free and with a realisation of despair, she guessed they needed to be free for what this men intended. She guessed further that no plea to stop would make any difference to them even it was the kind that came with the awareness of total defeat. The tears came with little or no resistance because she understood as the fingers tore her blouse off her back, that there would be no miracle rescue this time. All her tears seemed to do was make them laugh for she could hear them doing so as the rest of her clothes were torn away from her and she lay before them naked.

There came a point when she refused to look because Inez knew what was coming and would feel it with more intensity than her eyes could ever show her. She could spare herself that much at least. Somewhere in her fear, the part of her that not even these men could violate, offered some last minute advice before the pain and the humiliation began. Inez tried to use as much of it as she could, taking a deep breath as the first touch of flesh reached her skin and she steeled herself for what would be. As they swarmed in around her, she kept repeating to herself that survival should be all that mattered. She allowed herself to look once and when her eye caught the glint of a belt buckle becoming undone, she continued repeating those words to herself with fanatical obsession.

Inez was stilly saying that until they started tearing into her body and the words became screams.

********

It did not take long for the first bounty hunters to find them.

The only thing that surprised Chris was how quickly such news travelled in a place where information could be weeks old before being passed on. Chris, Vin and JD rode away from the reservation shortly after JD had arrived with his news. The decision had been made for them to travel together until they reached the fork of road that would take Vin to Chris’s property. Although Chris was tempted to go with him, it was obvious that someone with money and a burning desire for revenge was working not just against Vin and Nathan but against all of them and Chris had to find out who that was. Such a task could only be undertaken in Four Corners where the resources of Mary’s connection with the judge and Buck’s investigations in town could provide.

They were only a short ride from intersecting their journey when they were confronted with five men on horseback. Chris had no idea how long they were waiting in the scrub for the three men to appear but he had seen some of them in Purgatory and knew their occupation was trading in bounties among other things.

"We don’t want no trouble Larabee," the leader, a heavy set man with a missing front teeth who went by the name of Dawkins addressed them as they faced each other. "All we want is your friend." He gestured to Vin, whose fingers were poised on the butt of the shotgun, protruding from the saddle.

"You’re not taking him Dawkins." Chris said almost bored. He knew the men riding with Dawkins. While they called themselves bounty hunters, he knew they spent most of their time whoring and drinking in Purgatory, trying to evade the lawmen who no doubt had their faces on a poster somewhere. Dawkins was a hot headed, arrogant man who thought two thousand dollars was a fortune and was fool enough to try for a reward that only seasoned professional hunters would attempt to claim. Vin had remained at large for so long because he was a professional bounty hunter once and those in that select circle knew five hundred dollars was not worth the risk in bringing him in. Of course things would change now but Dawkins would be the first of the stupid to try.

"They say you’re fast Larabee.’ Dawkins looked at him, unflustered by Chris’ cool stare. Vin and JD knew better. The fat idiot was too stupid to recognise how close he was too dying. "I say you’re a coward hiding behind the skirts of your six friends." A series of derisive guffaws broke out from Dawkins’ men.

Chris seemed unperturbed by the comment. He saw Vin’s jaw tightened and JD fidgeting as if the slight to Chris’ reputation was more than he could handle. Chris raised his steel coloured eyes to Dawkins and nodded. "You could say that." Without warning, Chris went for Peacemaker, drew and fired before Dawkins’ fingers could graze the butt of his gun. "Once."

There was only one shot but Chris rarely needed more than that.

The bullet blew the back of Dawkins’ head apart, sending grey matter in all directions as blood splattered on his companions. The body teetered for a moment on top of the frightened mare and then fell to the ground in a heavy thud. His companions went for their guns as the horse tried to side step the body underfoot but sound found themselves staring down the barrels of Vin’s shotgun and both of JD’s drawn weapons.

"I don’t suppose any of you were out riding last night?" Chris inquired politely, because Dawkins would not be above ambushing and shooting one man. There was no need for intimidation because the dead body pooling blood beneath them was enough incentive.

The weedy looking man who looked at him with rotten teeth and overgrown hair was the first to answer, ever mindful of the weapons being trained in their direction. "We don’t know nothing." He said quickly, not requiring Chris to make another point. "Dawkins convinced us to come after Tanner," he glanced at Vin. "Said that there was easy money to be made."

"How did you know where we were?" Vin demanded. No one had known they were heading towards the Indian village this morning and they had left Four Corners’ early enough not to be seen.

"I don’t know," the man said with genuine fear. "Dawkins was talking to someone from Four Corners. They said the nigger got shot."

"His name is Nathan!" JD said angrily. Like every easterner, he hated those words referring to any black man and most of all in reference to anyone who was his friend, as Nathan was.

"Who said Nathan was shot?" Chris glared at them with an indication that he was tiring of this conversation.

"Dawkins didn’t tell us who told him!" He exclaimed fearfully. "Just that he knew that your friend was shot last night and chances were good, you’d go out to the village. It was two thousand dollars! Dawkins said it would be easy money!"

Chris considered the man’s words. If anyone had known where Nathan was shot, it was probable they might assume that his friends would ride out to the village to investigate. Almost everyone knew Vin’s relationship with Chano and it would be feasible to also assume that he would accompany if not lead such an investigation to the village. "I suggest you boys take your friend and start riding back to Purgatory about now." Chris said finally, deciding these men had little else of use to impart. "If I see any of your ugly faces again," he glanced down at Dawkins so they would understand the implication. "I may not be so forgiving."

He did not need to say it twice.

********

When the group of would be bounty hunters were out gone long enough to assure Chris they would not be making any renewed attempts to retrieve Vin, the lawmen resumed their journey home. The encounter had given Chris some valued insight and it also explained a few things, if not opened some possibilities, he had not considered earlier.

"I think whoever shot Nathan is no stranger." He announced.

"Yeah," Vin nodded in agreement, starting to see the pattern forming as well. "I think you’re right, Chris."

"Why?" JD asked predictably. Being young and inexperienced as he was, it was sometimes easy to forget that he was not as adept as recognising the more devious processes of human immorality.

"They seem to know a lot about us." Vin explained for his benefit. "They knew me well enough to know that I’d go to the Indian village and they knew enough to know which way Nathan would come back and that he’d gone alone. This is somebody in town, Chris."

"What about those ranchers?" JD suggested, remembering their encounters with Stuart James and Guy Royal, two powerful rancher whom the seven had occasionally had chanced to cross swords with previously. James and Royal were certainly rich enough with the connections to Four Corners to fall suspect to what Chris was alluding to.

"They don’t have too many friends in town after they tried burning it down." Chris remarked. "Still, all this sneaking around doesn’t seem to be their style. They just kept themselves from prosecution." Despite his doubts however, Chris was not about to totally discount their possible involvement either. He was not a man to take risks on may be and he had stayed alive by taking no such chances.

"We’ll ride out there tomorrow." Chris said to Vin and JD. "Shake them down a little."

"Could be interesting." Vin said with a faint smile.

"In the meantime," Chris replied having reached another decision in light of what just happened with Dawkins and those other men. "I think you’d best come back to town with us."

Vin opened his mouth to protest when Chris cut him off. "Just for the night." He retorted. "I don’t want those men following you back to my place when you’re alone."

"I can take care of myself." Vin replied, slightly offended that Chris would believe those bunch of drunks could ever sneak up on him.

"I know you can but I’m not sure what else is going to happen when the sun goes down tonight." Chris replied, unable to deny this uneasy feeling in his stomach. "With Nathan down, we’re short a man and we can afford for you to hiding out if we need you."

JD who never liked the idea of the seven separating added his voice of support to the debate. "Come on Vin, you know he’s right."

"Thanks," Chris gave JD a little smile for the help.

"All right," Vin said dubiously, still believing this was some ruse to protect him. "I hate to see what you mean by something else happening."

*******

The sun had disappeared beneath the uneven horizon of buildings in Four Corners. The busy sounds of people and horses were gradually replaced by the myriad lights peeking through the windows in the wake of the setting sun. In the night, Four Corners took on a different kind of life. The hotel bustled with the lively energy of guests dining at the plush restaurant before taking a before or after dinner stroll through the town like it was the galleria in New Orleans. Cheerful music would inevitably flow through town as someone took the keys of the old piano in the saloon, also the same one loaned to the church on Sundays to played a robust tune. Before the arrival of the seven men, such entertainments often spilled into violence, keeping away the more respectable folk away. However, with the decided presence of law in the town, such fears were forgotten and people enjoyed themselves freely.

On these nights, Ezra Standish would hold court at the central table in the saloon. The gambler would host a game of poker with visitors to the establishment or with his comrades in arms (who knew better than to let him deal) while Inez tended bar and fought off the unwanted attentions of Buck Wilmington. Between the gambler and the barmaid, a merry night was certain to be had by all.

Except tonight, she was nowhere to be seen.

Earlier that afternoon, she had left the saloon to runs some errands and Ezra was still awaiting her return. As the hour grew closer to the arrival of the evening crowd, his concern for her absence had dwindled from mild annoyance to genuine worry. While they shared no intimacies, Ezra had come to learn her habits well and if there was one thing he had learnt about the lady, it was that she was notoriously reliable. He depended upon her responsibility like he needed the air to breathe and he knew when she had not returned after almost being gone for three hours, something must have happened.

He knew he was concerned about her because he had hardly noticed that he was running back on forth along the counter, trying to serve drinks to thirsty and impatient customers who were well armed, without any complaint. His thoughts were filled with Inez. With Nathan requiring protection in the room above, Josiah could not leave to help Buck search the town for her and Ezra felt equally helpless, having to remain here to provide Josiah back up as well as run his business.

He wished Chris and the others would get back so that they could tear the town apart searching for Inez. Every time they seemed to defy things to get worse, it invariably did. Ezra was starting to wonder if this was god’s twisted idea of a joke.

"Ezra." Buck said fighting his way through the crowd of drinkers to reach the counter.

"Any sign of her?" Ezra asked hopefully, even though everything in Buck’s manner indicated otherwise.

"No." Buck shook his head, with an expression in his eyes that Ezra had only seen once. It was that moment when Don Paulo had claimed victory when Buck had confessed to knowing nothing about sword fighting. The Mexican had given Buck a triumphant look just before he stated that Inez was his to take out of Four Corners. Ezra had seen it then, that spark of black so alien to Buck’s nature that for a moment, the gambler thought Buck was going to shoot the Don right there and then. Without even hearing it, Ezra had known Buck was going to fight for Inez, even with swords.

He cared about Inez that much.

"This is ridiculous." Ezra exclaimed. "Why would they go after Inez? It does not make any sense."

Buck looked up at him and said softly. "Doesn’t it?"

For a minute, Ezra did not understand and then it came to him. If there was one thing that Ezra and Buck Wilmington had in common, it was how they felt about Inez. Though the nature of their affection differed in intimacy, it was no less potent. Ezra loved her as well but he loved her as a friend, a confidant who listened to him in his worse depressions before smacking him on the head and telling to get over it. Inez knew how to bring out the best in him because she believed there was something inside his jaded exterior worth saving. Such faith was too previous to be blighted by anything as fleeting as romantic love. Losing her would hurt, more than Ezra Standish dreamed possible.

"I hope Mr Larabee is not going to be much longer," Ezra said softly. "It appears its going to be another long night."

"Why?" Chris asked, trailing Vin and JD as he moved through the crowd and caught the tail end of Ezra’s conversation with Buck.

"Inez is gone." Buck said turning around to face his old friend.

Immediately, the three arrivals tensed as Ezra went back to serving, allowing Buck to fill them in. "She went out a few hours ago and no one has seen her since."

"What do you mean no one?" Vin demanded. "This is ain’t that big a town."

"I’m telling you," Buck retorted sharply, wondering how he could be any clearer. "She’s gone. She was going to the general store when she left here. Mrs Potters tells me she never got there!"

"Easy Buck." Chris said calming his friend down. Chris was perfectly aware of how Buck felt about Inez, even though he pretended to be his lascivious self around her. Buck used to be like that around another woman once as well and he had almost married her. "We’ll find Inez."

"I’ve looked everywhere Chris!" He almost shouted. "No one has seen her! Hell I even asked Mary! You’ve been out of town all day, you’ve no idea what’s been happening!"

"Buck," JD quickly spoke up, possibly being the only one other than Chris who might be able to calm Buck down when he was this way. "We’ll look again, I’ll come with you."

Buck took a deep breath, knowing that he was starting to lose control of himself. He stared at JD with his earnest expression, who turned to him for guidance and knew he had to show a better example for the boy. JD looked up to him so much; he couldn’t bear to disappoint him on top of everything else that was happening now. "I’m sorry Chris," Buck said in a calmer tone. "Something really funny is going around town. Its like there are enemies everywhere."

"I think that’s the plan." Chris pointed out. "Ezra," he called out to the gambler. "You stay here in case she comes back. We’re going to take another look around town."

********

This was not just another rumour. It was becoming a full-blown scandal.

Mary Travis had come to this conclusion by the end of the day, following Victoria Kendall’s visit. She had decided to ignore the rumours and innuendo, attributing them to just more malicious gossip that had dogged her ever since Chris came riding into town. However, as the day progressed, it became terribly apparent that it was more than just another rumour. She had three cancellations for advertisements in the Clarion News and at least a dozen for subscriptions all together. The cancellations came from people whom she had known for as long as she had lived in Four Corners, with little or no explanation.

While the cancellations had yet to seriously affect the paper’s circulation numbers, it did leave her shaken. Mary could not bring herself to leave her office all day out from the fear of what might be waiting for her when she left. In truth, her reputation was not the end all and be all of her existence but she did not wished to see it sullied either. She could live with its damage if it allowed her to function as the editor of the paper, which was her livelihood. She could not afford to be shunned if that meant a serious drop in the circulation of the Clarion News. The paper paid for her living in Four Corners; it was how Mary put Billy through school. Without it, she was a woman without income and without a husband for that matter.

She had not left the office because she was unwilling to deal with the glare of so many judgemental eyes waiting for her. Victoria Kendall was one of the more prominent people in town and if she knew about it, so did most of the community leaders in Four Corners. A group, Mary still hoped she was a part of. More than anything, Mary wished Chris was here. She needed to talk to him. When she had gone to check up on Nathan a short time ago, he had yet to return from the reservation and Mary did not feel comfortable confessing such intimate difficulties in the light of Inez’s apparent disappearance.

Mary prayed that her best friend’s disappearance had nothing to do with the events that had taken place around town during the last twenty-four hours. Nathan’s shooting, the increased bounty on Vin Tanner’s head and now Inez’ disappearance, was someone striking at the heart of their group? These seemed like things orchestrated to shatter the backbone of the seven and it concerned Mary that someone with that much venom might have Inez in their power.

She went into the kitchen and was making herself some tea to steady her spiralling nerves when suddenly; she heard a tap on the back door. Mary thought it might have been Chris and hurried to open it. Even though he had a key, he still knocked unless he entered the premises late at night, as he had done in the early hours of this morning. However, when she peered through the glass, all thoughts evaporated from her mind and she almost yanked the knob from the door as she swung it wide open.

"Oh my god." Mary exclaimed as her hand went to her mouth in horror.

"I didn’t know where else to go." Inez whispered.

Mary was speechless as she stared at the Mexican woman whose face was covered in blood and bruises. One of her eyes was so swollen that Mary did not believe she was able to see out of it. Inez’s arm hung at cruelly at an angle Mary knew was broken and she was trembling so hard as could barely remain on her feet. The clothes on her body were soiled with blood but Mary also noticed how they were torn as Inez was holding the tattered fabrics in place with her good arm. It was then that Mary caught sight of the blood running down her inner thigh, exposed by the great tear in the front of her skirt.

"Oh Inez!" Mary ran forward and took woman in her arms as Inez began to weep, ignoring the blood and the stench, the cause of which she knew without asking. Inez’s resolve collapsed at that moment. Her body shuddered with the release of her ordeal. She sobbed into Mary’s shoulder, with a shame so profound it could hardly be articulated to any accuracy.

"It’s alright," Mary said taking the same tone she used with Billy, when he cut his finger and or had fallen. If only this be mended with the same ease. "It will be okay Inez."

But even to Mary, the promise felt hollow and Inez was far being alright.

PART FOUR:

VOICES FROM THE GRAVE

Alexandra Styles had looked in on her patient several times that day, unaware that his friends were embroiled in any crisis. Her inquiries regarding the investigation of Nathan Jackson’s attack were met with polite explanations from Ezra Standish that things were progressing accordingly. Very quickly coming to the realisation that her interests was not required, Alex decided to concentrate on her patient and finding appropriate premises for her new surgery. She had spent much of the day looking over potential venues, without reaching any definitive decision over any particular one. Although she had more than enough money to sustain her indefinitely, at least according to her father’s solicitors, she knew she could ill afford to squander her inheritance. While the hotel accommodation was adequate for now, Alex wanted a home of her own, where she could put a nail in the wall without concern.

Despite feigning dinner invitations from several of the men she came across today, she had to admit some disappointment in not receiving one from Ezra Standish. He was the only person in Four Corners she knew with any depth but understood that he more pressing concerns at the time. Instead of inflicting herself with the company of someone she could not abide, Alex chose to dine alone in the restaurant.

It was not long after she had sat down and ordered that she saw Mary Travis enter the dining room. It was with curiosity that Alex also noticed the widow’s presence had raised some pointed stares from the other patrons. There was noticeable rise in the whispers generated by her arrival and Alex wondered immediately if there was something going on that she as a newcomer, was yet to learn about the owner of the Clarion News. However, what caught her attention most were the bloodstains splattered across the woman’s lavender coloured dress.

Mary’s eyes surveyed the room and then came to rest on her table. The two women met eye contact and Alex knew instinctively that Mary had come in search of her. The widow crossed the floor as Alex dropped her fork gently onto her plate. She rose to her in feet as Mary approached, holding her breath in anticipation of some new crisis with regarding Jackson’s condition. Mary was clearly in a distressed state as she neared and Alex did not wait until she reached the table. The young doctor hastily paid her bill and quickly left her table.

What in god’s name had happened?

"Mrs Travis!" Alex said meeting her half way. "What is wrong?"

"I can’t discuss it here." Mary swallowed thickly. The blond woman looked around nervously, conscious of the eyes staring at them both. Things were bad enough with the entire town knowing about Inez’s horrifying assault. "Please, you must come with me."

She was in such a heightened state of anxiety that there was no question in Alex’s mind about refusing the request.

"Of course," Alex nodded and the two women hurried out of the dining room, amidst the inevitable flurry of speculative gossip that would flow immediately following their departure.

Mary did not speak until after they were well out of the hotel and hurrying down the wooden walkway, which led to the Clarion News. Alex did not question where they were going but she was worried that her patient’s condition had been somehow compromised. As far as Alex could recall, she had left Nathan in satisfactory condition. Of course he was still seriously injured but his condition was not deteriorating and his will to live was strong.

"Can you please tell me what is wrong?" Alex questioned once they were far enough away from eavesdroppers and prying eyes.

Mary paused a moment, clearly distressed. "I need you to go to my house. My best friend, Inez…oh god." Her voice faltered then and Alex understood just how bad the situation was because it appeared that Mary was fighting to maintain her composure. Alex could see that she was barely able to keep from sobbing out loud but was keeping herself together out of sheer will. "She’s hurt." Mary said after a moment.

"Hurt? How?" Alex questioned.

"You need to see her!" Mary snapped, descending into the black well of despair when her mind cast back to images of Inez at her doorsteps. "No questions, at least not yet!"

"Mary!" The doctor grabbed Mary by her shoulders to try and settle her down. "I’m going to see her, nothing will stop me from doing that but you need to calm yourself." Alex tried to inject as much confidence in her voice to make Mary Travis understand the need to remain cool.

"I can’t calm down!" Mary practically roared, removing herself from Alex’s grip abruptly. "You didn’t see, you don’t know what they did to her…." Mary could barely contain the unbelievable rage and disgust she felt churning in her stomach. She was so angry she could barely think. Four Corners was her home! To think those animals could be allowed to roam free in the place where she lived and hope to raise her son, shook Mary to the core.

Suddenly, it came to her what Mary could not say and in her understanding, felt similar waves of outrage. However, she was a doctor and for her to be effective, she had to maintain some professional detachment. No medical school had ever been able to teach that particular skill with any degree of success. "I’m sorry Mary," she said soothingly, trying to pacify this woman whose worry was justified in light of what Alex now knew. "You need to be strong for Inez." Alex looked into her eyes and stated firmly. "You are not any good to her the way you are."

On that note, Alex reached her. Mary suppressed all the anger and bitterness she felt, focusing her energy on the support Inez would soon need. She began to calm down, breathing a little easier. "You’re right," she swallowed hard. "I’m sorry."

"Where is she now?" Alex asked now that Mary was more coherent.

"At my house." Mary answered and started walking again. As they made their way down the main street from the hotel, Mary saw Chris emerge from the saloon with Buck, Vin and JD following close behind.

"Chris!" Mary exclaimed, never feeling more relieved to see him. She did not care what anyone thought of her reputation any more, not after what had happened to Inez. In the scheme of things, what other people thought about her mattered little now. Mary picked her up her skirts and crossed the street, before running straight into Chris’ arms. Right now, she needed to feel his reassuring arms around her. She needed to hear his voice whispering in her ear, that everything would be all right because when Chris Larabee said it, it almost felt true.

He felt her arms wrap tightly around him and knew immediately something was terribly wrong. She was not open to displays of affection like this and grip indicated this was more than just happiness to see him. When they parted and Chris had a chance to look into her face, he was mildly shocked by what he saw there. She was distraught and now that far from hysterical. Like Alex, he guessed her composure was being held together by a hair’s breadth. Chris had ever seen her so distressed only once before and that had been when Billy had run away from home. He immediately felt alarm and did not resist, when she buried her face in his arms and held him tight.

"What’s happened?" He asked, feeling tension knot his insides. If anyone had hurt her….

"Its Inez," she said hesitantly. "She’s at my house."

There was more to it than that. Her eyes more or less said it even if she not could tell him outright. Buck and Vin had heard enough to enter the conversation. Predictably it was Buck who started firing questions at her even before Chris could think to ask them.

"Is she okay? Is she hurt? Where has she been?" The big man demanded and then they all seemed to discover that Alex Styles was walking towards the Clarion’s office. Chris saw the colour drain out of Buck’s face as the lady doctor strode forward with a purpose unknown to them but could not be anything else.

"Inez!" Buck ran forward and Mary grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No!" She hissed with more command in her voice than Chris had ever heard her use. The lawmen froze in his tracks. In fact they all did. Mary met Buck’s gaze so that he would understand what she could not say. "You can’t go in there Buck." Mary said trying to be kind because she knew just how much feeling there was in his eyes, how fear she had seen when he understood that Alex Styles was going to her house for Inez.

"She’s going be alright, ain’t she?" His voice was soft, almost as if he needed to hear it even if it was not true.

"She’s been hurt Buck." Mary could not bring herself to say the word, even though it hung in the air like a pregnant drop of water, waiting to fall. She turned to Chris and said softly. "Could we take this inside please? Its not something to be spoken out in the open."

"Jesus." Buck realised at last what that unspeakable truth in her eyes was trying to say. Understanding escaped his lungs like air trapped for an eternity. "Did they touch her?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.

The anguish Mary saw in his face reached into her soul and burned its memory there forever. "I’m sorry Buck," she said nodded slowly, feeling the beginnings of her own tears. "Please," Mary implored, starting to feel the loss of her own emotional control. "You can’t go in there yet! She couldn’t take seeing anyone right now!"

Buck stared hard at Mary for a long time. She could see the rage in his eyes give way to a stronger emotion. She had no doubt that if he learnt who had defiled Inez like this, Buck Wilmington would kill every last one of them. However, he stood before her, shaking so hard from the rage but somehow reining it, banishing it to a place where it could be utilised later because Mary was right. "I’m going to back to the saloon." He said with a measured but thready voice. "I’d appreciate it if someone brings word to me when the Doc knows how she is."

Chris watched him walk towards the jailhouse, knowing exactly what was running through his mind. It had been a long time since Chris had seen Buck Wilmington this way and the gunslinger had hoped he would never have to do so again.

Not since Alice.

********

Alex found Inez in a tub of ice cold water.

The water had turned red from the blood she was washing off her skin. She had been so desperate to erase the stink of her attackers from her body that Inez had not bothered to heat the water or acknowledge that her arm was broken. Alex paused at the door to the bathroom and watched her scrubbing the blood from her skin as Inez tried not to weep. She could see Inez’s jaw tightened as she struggled against breaking down into fresh tears and found herself admiring Inez for her spirit. As the blood came off the Mexican’s dusky skin, Alex saw the bruises left behind that no amount of soap or water could ever wash away. Alex’s much vaunted professional detachment hollowed at the sight of the bite marks in her neck along with the blistering circles on her breasts that Alex knew was mostly likely caused by someone taking to her with a cigar.

The injuries on her body could be hidden but those inflicted on her face would not be so easy to disguise. The sultry features of the woman Alex met the night before was now marred with split lips, a jaw contorted by swelling and an eye battered so badly that it was swollen shut. Alex doubted that she was even able to see through it. Alex could not even begin to imagine what nightmare this poor woman must have endured at the hands of the monsters that inflicted these terrible injuries.

"Inez." Alex announced herself.

Inez did not look up. "Go away." She said biting down as she fought the urge to cry. Inez was not going to let them take away her dignity as easily as they had violated her body.

This was never going to be easy, Alex had expected that much. When she had been practicing with her father, she had come across numerous cases like this, despite her father’s distaste in involving her with such crimes. Inez was undoubtedly stronger than most women who underwent such ordeals were but it would not make the healing process any easier.

"I don’t want any help." Inez retorted, continuing to scrub her neck hard until the tough bristles made her skin raw.

"You’re hurt." Alex tried again, refusing to give up. This was not a matter for debate; Inez had serious injuries that had to be treated. The mental trauma would have to wait for them moment. "Your arm appears to be broken. I need to treat it."

Inez paused, considering her words even though she seemed farther away than Alex could reach. The doctor hoped she would not have to.

"I can’t wash the smell away." She whispered looking up at Alex for the first time. "Why?"

"Because its not on your skin any more," Alex answered honestly, knowing of no other way to proceed than to use plain sincerity. She was never an advocate of patronising one’s patient with untruths. "It’s in your mind and that’s not something you can wash away."

"When I was little girl," Inez said turning her head enough to meet her gaze. "My mother used to tell I would be a beautiful woman when I grew up. So many things were possible for me because of this face. She said beautiful girls grew to marry rich men and get to live in villas with servants and fine carriages."

"I think I remember my father saying something like that too." Alex confessed, missing him profoundly now because he would know the words to say to Inez that might ease her pain.

"Do they all say that?" Inez almost smiled but could not quite manage it. "I did not want to be beautiful because I knew if I was, it would mean no one would care what was in my heart. Beauty had cost me everything that meant anything to me. I ran from my home because a man wanted to own this beautiful face and me. I protected my honour by leaving it all behind. I find a place where I think may be I can get by on what’s in my head and I am reminded again that there is a price that comes with beauty." She laughed without a trace of humour. "I think I am not so beautiful now."

"They tell you a lot of things when you’re a child Inez." Alex said taking a step forward. Inez’s soiled clothes were on the floor and Alex reached for a robe, she saw hanging from on the wall. "They tell you that monsters are all make believe, but they do exist and they can hurt you whether or not you’re beautiful or ugly. It doesn’t really matter who you are Inez, the kind of men who did this to you don’t know the difference. It wasn’t you they wanted to hurt, it was the fear inside their mind that made them do this."

Inez said nothing, letting the scrubbing brush slip from her hand before watching it disappeared in the murky red water. Inez started sobbing and despite all the rules of professionalism that Alex had ever been forced to accept as irrefutable, she found herself abandoning them all aside as she offered this undefeated woman her compassion and sympathy.

********

When Alex emerged from the guest bedroom that Mary had prepared for Inez’s use, she found most of the seven and Mary in the kitchen downstairs, waiting for any trace of news. Even though her injuries did not require it, Alex had given the woman a mild sedative to help her sleep. Although she had composed herself reasonably by the time the sedative became effective, Alex knew that there were deep wounds that no amount of medical knowledge could heal. Unfortunately, Inez was the only one who could decide how to administer her own recovery.

The mood in the kitchen seemed as if it were transferred and superimposed from the night before when they had found themselves in the same position. Only this time, they were not waiting to hear if Nathan would make it through the night, they were waiting to hear how badly Inez had survived her ordeal at hands of men who would soon find death preferable to being in their company. While Nathan’s injuries were more severe than Inez, they assured with the confidence that his wounds inflicted would heal eventually. The same could not be said for Inez.

Ezra had been the last to arrive, having turned his saloon over to the ministrations of one of the more trustworthy working girls, whom Inez had once selected in the unlikely event that either of them were indisposed. It was far simpler than closing down the saloon and being forced to usher the drinking public elsewhere. Knowing his customers, he would not have been forced to make them leave at gunpoint. Leaving JD with Josiah to keep watch over Nathan, Ezra had bolted to the Clarion News when he learnt that Inez had been found. However, upon learning the circumstances of her return, Ezra found himself cursing at his stupidity a dozen times over for not sounding the alarm over Inez’s disappearance earlier. It stabbed him at the core when he realised what those few hours might have meant to Inez’s suffering.

"I’ve given her something to sleep." Alex announced upon gaining their undivided attention at her entry into the room. Why is it she only saw these people under such circumstances? "Her arm is broken and three of her ribs are cracked. There was a great deal of bruising but nothing that would leave any permanent effect." Alex decided not to brutalise them with the ugly details of Inez’s injuries, particularly the bite marks and cigar burns. They were outraged enough by the whole affair and while their faces showed concern for Inez, Alex saw that it was barely hiding the unspeakable fury they were feeling. However, in Buck Wilmington, her mostly harmless welcoming committee, the expression was beyond rage, and certainly beyond her ability to describe it. Staring into those normally warm eyes, Alex was taken back by the burning hatred she saw festering inside him.

"I suggest she stay here for a while." Alex looked towards Mary. It was obvious that they were close friends and Inez would need all the support she could get. "She will need time to recuperate, preferably without having to deal with people."

"She can stay here as long as she likes." Mary stated, requiring no thought whatsoever on the matter.

"If the text book is anything to follow, there will be a rage and then withdrawal and finally acceptance." Alex knew the advice was weak because the mentality of each person was different and thus the recovery of each rape victim was similarly unique. "I will give you some medication for her in the event she has difficulty sleeping."

"Is that really necessary?" Mary asked. She felt completely out of her depth in this matter because she could not even begin to imagine what Inez was going through.

"Yes." Alex answered without hesitation. "The attack was brutal. Their intention was not the sex but to hurt."

Mary closed her eyes and drew a silent breath as her heart filled with sympathy for her friend while the men around her remained just as sombre, their jaws tightening as each of them tried to come to grip with their anger.

Chris, who was the only one who had any kind of practiced control over his emotions, let out a deep sigh and moved onto the burning question in all their minds. Buck, Ezra and Vin were too close to it and Mary had fallen silent again. The widow had been sitting quietly, staring into the black depths of her coffee cup, as if the dark could offer her some insight into why this had happened to Inez. "Did she say who they were?"

"No," Alex answered automatically, anticipating that the question would come from him. "She was not able to see them. They were wearing masks or something over their faces. She told me a little of it when I was setting her arm." Alex replied trying to remain detached and finding that she was fighting a losing battle, perhaps from the very beginning. "There were three of them. Apparently, they dragged her off the street and knocked her out. When she came to, she couldn’t recognise where she was and it began soon after.

No one needed clarification on what ‘it’ was.

Chris saw Buck’s knuckles turning white.

Knowing that Chris was unsatisfied with that information, Alex wondered if he would make some clumsy attempt to question Inez later. Hoping to prevent any such action on his part, Alex further added. "She is extremely traumatised Mr Larabee. The experience is bad enough without having to relive it repeatedly. I am sorry that there isn’t more information to impart but as her physician, I’ll be damned if I let anyone try getting it from her. She will talk about it when she is ready. Push her too hard and I guarantee you, the damage will be severe."

"Lay off Chris." Buck warned, taking his attention away from the very determined Alex Styles. The threat in his voice was clear. Chris let it go understanding what was motivating Buck’s rage. He more than anyone else knew what Buck was going through and was willing to make allowances for his behaviour.

Despite what Ms Styles believed, Chris had no intention of questioning Inez further, even though he would have liked to. Although the woman could be imperious, Chris liked that Ms Styles was willing to throw caution to the wind for the benefit of those under her care by standing up to him. In that way, she and Nathan Jackson had more in common than they realised.

"Why Inez?" Vin quickly interjected, trying to diffuse the powder keg of tension in the room. Emotions were running hot all around at the moment and it would not help things, if they started fighting amongst themselves. Inez was his friend too and he cared for her deeply but Vin did not want their tempers become more of a liability than it already was. It was clear to him that the men had done this to Inez just to get this very reaction from the seven. "I don’t get it. She’s our friend but we ain’t any closer than that. There was no reason for this."

"You think it’s the same men who shot Nathan?" Mary asked, shocked by the possibility that someone could be so callous as to use Inez in such a terrible way simply because of her association with the seven.

"Apparently someone is going to a great deal of trouble to inconvenience us." Ezra said taking a sip of coffee. Alex noticed that his fingers were wrapped so tightly around the cup that he was in danger of breaking if he did not loosen his grip. She wondered what exactly was the relationship between the gambler and Inez. Despite his outwardly calm manner, Alex was developing a strange sort of insight about Ezra Standish and at the moment, that insight was telling her that he was barely maintaining his composure.

"Inconvenience!" Buck exploded at his choice of words. "You call what they did to her an inconvenience!" He started towards Ezra with every intention of carrying out the threat his voice implied.

Ezra held his ground but Chris was not about to let this turn into a brawl. The man in black stood up from his chair and intercepted Buck in two easy strides. Chris locked his fingers around Buck’s arm in a strong grip and held firm. "Stand down Buck." Chris ordered coolly even though his voice oozing with predatory command.

"Go to hell." Buck said yanking his arm away sharply. His anger had gone beyond his ability to control and he no longer gave a damn about trying. "I’m not letting her go the way Alice did. I’m not going to let her die too!" With that Buck stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the front door on his way out and leaving his friends staring in stunned silence.

No one spoke for a few seconds because they were reeling in shock at Buck’s uncharacteristic outburst. The enraged man was a far cry from the good-natured person they had become accustomed to knowing over the last year. They knew he cared for Inez a great deal and while they understood his rage at her assault only too well, there seemed to be something else driving him to such distraction. "What’s gotten into him?" Vin said mystified. "I ain’t never seen him like this."

"It’s not his fault." Ezra said surprising himself by defending Buck’s actions. "I am experiencing similar feelings towards our unseen enemy."

"It looks to me like someone is trying very hard to hurt all of you and if you don’t mind me saying so," Alex added her voice to the debate. "It’s working. Whoever this enemy of your is, they know you very well and their making their attack very personal."

"Absolutely." Chris agreed, glad that there was one other person in the room was thinking clearly.

"So we are looking for someone with the means and the motive." Ezra sighed. "There are any number of people that fit that description. Unfortunately, Nathan being a Negro made him an easy target. With the exception of ourselves and Mrs Travis, who else was going to make a fuss about a black man being shot?"

"True." Mary found herself admitting reluctantly. Even though it was impossible for them to see Nathan as anything but their friend, it was easy to forget that not everyone in Four Corners felt the same way about him. The war of the states was still fresh in the minds of many people and many who still considered Negroes to be a slave race.

"Putting the price on my head from five hundred dollars to two thousand makes me a tastier bounty. Whoever did had to know that I’d rather leave then let this town suffer because of me. They also know my connection to the Indian village."

"But then what possible reason could anyone have to hurt Inez?" Mary looked at the faces in the room, hoping that they would have an answer. "There has been no indication that Buck and Inez had relationship at all. Its been more adversarial than romantic."

"What did he mean when he said he was not going to let her go the way Alice did?" Alex asked.

"I have no idea." Ezra confessed. There had been so many women in Buck’s life it was almost impossible to pinpoint one particular name. In the last year or so, Ezra had been privy to dozens of women who had breezed in and out of Buck Wilmington’s bed. Although, he had to admit being unable to recall an Alice at any point.

Chris said nothing but he was secretly debating whether or not he should tell the others about Alice Sullivan. Perhaps if they knew why Buck felt so damn strongly about what had happened to Inez, it would make it easier for them to understand the demons he was facing at this moment.

"Chris?" Mary recognised the look in Chris’ eyes that said otherwise.

There was hesitation in his manner as he tried to decide whether he could trust Alexandra Styles and furthermore, whether he was willing to talk about Alice Sullivan. It was so long ago but the memories were vivid, almost as vivid as Buck’s terrible anguish. However, Buck’s behaviour demanded explanation from his friends and the woman who had saved Nathan’s life and come to Inez’s aid without question did the rare thing of earning his trust. Her fierce protection of Inez and Nathan’s life had earned her the right to stay while he told the others. For reasons he could not explain, Chris suddenly felt their fellowship expanding. What Alex Styles role in it was beyond Chris’ ability to say but he knew they could rely on her to keep their confidence.

"I was 19 years old when I joined the Union Army." Chris finally responded, never for a moment believing how difficult it was to let those first words slip past a lifetime of guarded privacy. He saw confusion in their faces as no one seemed to understand the relevance but Chris knew of no other way to even begin telling the story. "It was as bloody as most wars got and I saw a lot of good men die. Things like that changes a man, kills the person he might have been and leaves a stranger in his place. I wore the blue for three years and when it was over I was different."

"You were Union soldier?" Ezra said with some surprise and a hint of scepticism. Chris personality did not lend itself well to authority but then as Chris had already stated, he was 19 years and probably nothing like the dangerous man they now knew.

"A lieutenant when the war ended, if you believe." Chris said with a faint smile. Somewhere in the ashes of the farm where Sarah and Adam buried was also the remains of a blue uniform and a sabre buried in the rubble. "After the war, I travelled around a lot, didn’t feel the need to settle anywhere. I got into bounty hunting because I was good at it and I knew I wasn’t going be much of a farmer."

Mary listened with as much fascination as the others in the room did with her. Before Sarah and Adam, almost nothing was known of Chris Larabee’s origins beyond the fact that he was a gunslinger. Mary had never intruded on that earlier life because it felt like prying. She loved him enough to allow him his secrets and was patient that he would tell her when it was right for him to do so. While she regretted the circumstances under which he was forced to reveal himself, she was nevertheless curious.

"I ended up in Crescent Falls and that’s where I met Buck." He could not help thinking fondly on that first meeting. Had it been that long already? Sometimes, Chris could hardly believe the speed in which time travelled. "He wouldn’t leave me alone. Every time, he rode in from the Blesdoe ranch, if he saw me in the saloon, he come over and try to get friendly. Buck seemed to think I needed the company."

"I can’t imagine why." Ezra remarked with a straight face.

Chris threw him a look and then continued. "Buck was a ranch hand with Keith Blesdoe. Believe it or not he was actually engaged and was saving most of his money to marry this girl. She was a pretty thing and his first real love. I’ve never seen him fall so hard." Images of the lady in question brushed past his memories. Alice with her blue bonnet, hiding her sun streaked hair and her laughing green eyes. Even Chris had to admit to being taken with her even though she was always Buck’s. "Her name was Alice Sullivan."

It was hard for the others to imagine Buck to be so smitten by any woman enough to think of marriage. If anything, Buck had always shown how adverse he was to the idea of matrimony but then this offered some explanation about that as well.

"Back then, Crescent Falls was under the control of a rancher named James Westbrook. Westbrook owned most of the town and the sheriff too. He had three boys; one of whom was called Damien. Damien had a reputation for hurting women all across town. Of course his daddy saw to it that the law didn’t touch him and his men had a way of convincing anyone brave enough to want justice to think otherwise." Chris did not need to elaborate. Everyone in the room were aware of that kind of persuasion. "Buck had just left town for a couple of weeks on a cattle trail when Damien Westbrook came across Alice. When he was done with Alice, you could barely recognise her. He raped her but that was not enough for him. He liked to hurt and Alice had no one to protect her except a father who was too old do anything but drink himself to death after."

"How did Buck take it?" Mary asked, understanding the pain she had seen in Buck’s eyes so much better now. No doubt, he was being subjected to the return of some long buried nightmares. To have the same thing happened to someone once was bad enough, let alone enduring it a second time. Fate could sometimes be very cruel. Her heart went out to him wherever he was at this moment.

"He didn’t know and by the time he got back it was too late. She killed herself." Chris said softly, remembering how he had rode into town and heard the news. Buck had yet to return from the trail and was not even aware his bride had been violated, let alone suicided. Someone told Chris that she had drowned herself in the river, wearing the dress she would have been married in a few short weeks later. Chris had ridden out that very night and found Buck, deciding that his best friend was not going hear the news from any stranger. Unfortunately, nothing could lessen the impact of that kind of news. Until Chris had lost Sarah and Adam, he had never understood what anguish Buck suffered that night.

"Did they get him?" Vin inquired thinking that if it was his fiancée, the man who dared hurt her that way would not be still breathing.

"The law in Crescent Falls did nothing as expected and I stopped Buck from doing anything stupid." Chris volunteered. "A man with urges like that will eventually make a mistake and so I made Buck wait. Not long after, Damien went to Bitter Creek and ended up murdering a girl up there. This time, not even his daddy’s money was going to save him from a murder charge. However, James Westbrook was not going to let his boy go to jail so he took Damien back to Crescent Falls and made sure no one came for the boy. Anyone who did usually ended up dead."

"Don’t tell me this scoundrel got away with his crime." Ezra exclaimed with unconcealed disgust. He had known men like the one Chris was describing and they weren’t far from being animals themselves. Rape was the one crime, which Ezra Standish condemned with utter conviction. Ezra was never able to abide such twisted savagery.

"No he didn’t." Chris replied shortly. "Bounty hunters came and went, some dead and some alive but eventually Damien Westbrook did hang."

He remembered accompanying Buck to Bitter Creek for Damien Westbrook’s trial. The rapist was entitled to a jury of his peers and his family money had brought the best lawyer in town to defend him. Unfortunately, there were just too many witnesses who had seen him with the murdered girl and eventually, some brave young women from Crescent Falls had surfaced long enough to tell their story. With James Westbrook dead, they had little reason to fear any repercussions of their actions. The jury had deliberated for less than a day before they found Damien Westbrook guilty.

"Who brought him in?" Vin probed further.

"Chris did." Buck said announcing his return. He seemed calmer than when he had left and the expression of regret on his face told them all that he had used the time alone to examine his behaviour. "Chris spent a month at Westbrook’s’ property working as a ranch hand and on Christmas night, when all the ranch hands and hired guns had gone to town to celebrate, Chris went in and got him."

Chris’ gaze dropped to the floor because that was one night that he had no wish to remember or relate. The memory of the dead still bothered him, even now and there were times after Sarah and Adam had died that Chris wondered if his actions that night did not somehow cost him wife and child. He had actually believed that fate was taking its revenge on him, family for family.

"You promised me you would handle it and you did." Buck looked at Chris with a look of apology, laced with the barest hint of a smile. After a moment of unspoken regard, Buck turned to Ezra. "I’m sorry I was out of line Ezra."

"It’s been forgotten Mr Wilmington," Ezra said graciously in complete sympathy. "I understand what you’re feeling."

"I don’t think you do." Buck replied without any trace of malice but it was the truth. He doubted anyone could appreciate what he was going through. "However, I appreciate the sentiment."

"Well I have to go." Alex said deciding she could not remain here for long. She had another patient to deal with and her visit to Nathan Jackson had already delayed longer than she would have liked. Despite his stable condition, he was nowhere out of the woods and she wanted to keep a close eye on him until then. Alex could hardly believe the last two days. It seemed that she had arrived right in the middle of some dime store novel that was quickly spiralling from one terrible event to another. "I need to see how Mr Jackson is doing."

"Ezra go with her." Chris replied automatically.

"Are we on that again?" Alex complained. "I do not need an escort."

"Ma’am." Chris stared at her with those intense blue eyes that immediately conveyed to her that she was not going to win any argument against this man. "There are dangerous men running out there who may not appreciate the help you’ve been giving us. We’re not letting put your life at risk without at least making some effort to protect you. So get use to one of us being around you for the duration."

"Your kindness is overwhelming." She said dryly before letting out a visible groan of exasperation and turning to Mary. "Is he always like this?"

Mary rolled her eyes and retorted. "Don’t get me started."

*******

Although the saloon was not far from Mary Travis’ home, the silence that existed between Ezra and Alex seemed to stretch that narrow distance longer than normal. She knew Ezra was consumed with thoughts of Inez’ welfare and so she did not force conversation from him. After having to treat the woman’s injuries, Alex did not feel the need to speak either. The last hours had drained them both completely of any need to talk. It was the first time she looked in his face and saw the profound sadness that lay beneath the surface of his gentleman like facade.

"Inez is a survivor Ezra." Alex replied finally deciding she was unable to endure the pain she saw in his face. "She’ll come through this."

Ezra looked up at her and at that moment, he seemed nothing like the suave, charming gambler and con man she had come to know. In his blue eyes, she saw sorrow and grief that touched her the way nothing had since her father had died. "I feel like I should have been able to prevent this. It never occurred to me that she might be in danger. In hindsight, it makes perfect sense that they would strike at her to get to us. Besides Mrs Travis, she is the only other person who means that much to us, not just Buck."

"You can’t blame yourself." She said empathically. "It’s not your fault."

"I know that." Ezra answered but sounding not at all convinced of what he was saying. "It’s just that she means a great deal to me. Until I arrived in Four Corners, I was sadly lacking in any real friendships. Besides the men I ride with and Mrs Travis, Inez was the only other person I can truly call a friend."

"Is just friendship?" Alex found herself asking and then swore inwardly, because it was not an appropriate question for this moment.

Ezra allowed himself a faint smile and met her gaze upon discovering something in her question that he had been previously unaware. However, for the moment he needed to answer her question because the nature of his relationship with Inez bore great importance to her.

Suppressing a smile of pleasure at knowing that she might care for him, Ezra tried to answer her as evenly as possible. "While Buck Wilmington may hope to conjure something more than friendship in his relations with Inez, I do not. She’s like the sister I always wanted and never had. The woman acts as my conscience and god forbid I’ve gotten to use to her being around in the last few months."

She nodded at his answer but Ezra noticed her shoulders relaxing as if the lack of this knowledge had been of some concern to her. For the first time, he realised that the enchantment he felt in her presence might not necessarily be one sided. The lady might actually return his affections if he chose to pursue her.

In the distance, he could hear the cheerful sound of music in the night air while the moon hung heavy in the clouds. Ezra suddenly felt the need to tell her something of how he felt because this thing Inez had shown him how indifferently time moved by. For one instance, a moment of relative peace had been mistaken for a lifetime and the complacency had cost them dearly. He would not make the same mistake again. Pausing a moment, Ezra gathered his resolve because he needed to speak before courage failed him. Even though he had known her for last than a day, he felt a connection to her he did not understand and yet could not withdraw with his usual cavalier attitude. For once in his life, he did not want the image of the self assured Southern gentlemen to ruin the moment.

Ezra turned to Alex and replied softly. "I would like to be with you on a slow river boat sailing the Mississippi with New Orleans behind us." He stared into her brown eyes that flowed into his soul like warm chocolate. "I’d like to see the lights of river in your eyes and see the wind in your hair. It would be truly heavenly to gaze upon you at that moment Miss Styles."

Alex felt her cheeks flush and was grateful that her colouring hid it so well. As a young debutante, she had been courted with such words before and none of it had possessed the power to move her. However, when Ezra Standish gazed upon her with that look of hungry longing and making such claims, she felt sixteen again and completely lost to the power of her own desires. Fortunately, a part of her remained that was still very much the grown woman, who was seasoned to such talk even if the words had affected her deeply. "Now how am I suppose to let you call me Miss Styles when you say things like that?" She whispered silkily, the corner of her full lips turning up into coquettish smile.

"I don’t know." Ezra said taking a step closer towards her and was encouraged when she did not move away. "It just doesn’t feel right to call you Alex."

"Doesn’t it?" She responded, becoming aware of his closeness and was unable to ignore the effect of this intimacy on her. She could feel his breath brushing against her skin, leaving slivers of tiny delight in its wake. "What would you call me then?" She asked softly, her voice almost purring.

"Beautiful," he said without having to think twice. His voice was husky and Ezra could see the slight part in her lips that whispered its desire to him. "Enchanting." He drew even closer to her, until he could feel the rough fabric of her dress against his waistcoat. "Maybe just Alexandra."

For the first time since she had breezed into town, that self-assurance had all but evaporated. He could feel her breath caressing his skin and her perfume lingered just enough for him to savour it with relish. He was never so presumptuous with any woman but he had the feeling that Alex did not like to be treated as if she were something to be worshipped or adored, as southern men were taught to do with women. For as long as he could remember, he had been told to treat a woman like an object but wondered if it was just possible to treat one as lady.

Tentatively, his hand slid into hers, fingers interlocking and delighting in the seduction of touch. He let his thumb circle the small of her palm slowly, his fingers stroking each knuckle with delicate care, feeling the curve of bone and the velvet softness of her skin. He felt her shudder at the subtle movements of his fingertips across her flesh and felt himself drowning in the intoxicating embrace of arousal. Their eyes remained locked, a thousand thoughts of smouldering hunger passed between them. Wordlessly, he raised her hand to his lips, never once marring the moment with anything as banal as conversation. Ezra waited for the feel of her skin under his lips with rising anticipation, unable to deny the urgency building inside of him was making him lose all good sense.

Suddenly, their attention was snapped sharply back to reality with one loud and abrupt creak of a plank from further up the boardwalk. Alex snatched her hand back as if scalded and Ezra took a respectable step backwards as their eyes followed the sound to an approaching passer-by that had no idea what he had intruded upon.

"Perhaps, we better see how Nathan is doing." Alex swallowed thickly, unable to hide it in her voice that she was visibly shaken by their brief moment of intimacy.

"I think that would best." Ezra cleared his throat with similar discomfiture and tried to ignore the pounding in his heart or the disappointment at the opportunity lost.

*********

"Vin I want you stay out of sight tomorrow but I still want you in town." Chris said after giving thought to what they should do next. The situation has escalated beyond any of their worst imaginings and it was time to go on the offensive before things deteriorated any further. The kitchen was becoming an unofficial venue for their council of war and Chris did not intend to waste what little time they had left before some other crisis appeared out of nowhere to distract them again. Their opponent had drawn an orchestrated plan of attack and most of the moves made had left them reeling with no avenue for counter offence.

"That’s not a good idea, Chris." Vin pointed out. "Men are going to be coming after me." He did not want anyone else put in danger because of him. A two thousand-dollar reward was going to bring out some of the best professional bounty hunters in search of his head. These were ruthless men capable of anything. Vin shuddered to think what they would do to those around him in an effort to collect that bounty.

"I know.’ Chris nodded understanding his concerns but he could not let Vin disappear like he wanted. At the moment, Chris needed him too much. "But it’s not wise to separate right now." The leader of the seven had come to the firm conclusion that their enemy was attempting to divide them by attacking the people around them as they had done with Inez. The state Buck was in and to some extent Ezra, confirmed that much to him. "Mary, if you don’t mind, I’d like Vin to stay here."

"Certainly," Mary agreed without hesitation. After what had happened to Inez, Mary was going to have her hands full looking after her friend. Emotionally, she could use the support of comforting shoulder. "You’re welcome to remain as long as you like Mr Tanner."

"I don’t want intrude Ma’am." Vin said quickly, showing in his expression aimed at Chris, just how much he did not like this idea.

"You’ll be protecting Mary and Inez, Vin." Chris retorted before any further argument arose on this subject. "After what happened to Inez, I’m not happy to let either of them out of my sight."

"But Chris…" Mary started to protest, now finding herself in the same situation as Vin. She had a life to lead and could not be worried about shadows behind every corner.

"Mary," Chris met her gaze with a look of determination that told her it was unwise to argue. He would be unmovable on this subject. "These men are capable of anything as we’ve found out and I won’t let them harm either you or Inez any more. I also don’t want you unprotected while this thing is still going on."

"Alright," she conceded the point, knowing that he was right. This time. However on reflection, she realised that the men who had raped Inez were still out there and in light of the rumours circulating around town about her relationship with Chris, it was safe to assume she had made herself a ripe target. She wondered how this would effect her reputation, she thought with some amusement. With Vin Tanner taking up residence in her home, she was no doubt going to be branded a wanton. Despite the circumstances, she found the whole thing rather amusing. Her reputation seemed a trifling matter in comparison to what Inez had endured.

"Chris," Buck spoke for the first time. He had been quietly drinking his coffee, trying to keep thoughts about Inez far from his mind. However, the notion of Vin staying at Mary Travis’ home brought to mind something else that happened today. "Vin staying here is not such a good idea."

Chris turned to him and wondered if anyone was listening to him today. "Why not?"

Buck shifted uncomfortably where he stood, uncertain of how he was going to tell his friend about the gossip that had been running rife through town about him and Mary. Buck was not even sure Mary was aware of the situation. He wondered if he should be the one to tell them. As the pause of the silence grew louder and all eyes were looking to him for an answer, Buck decided he did not have much of a choice and Chris and Mary had a right to know.

"I’ve been hearing talk all day." Buck said reluctantly.

"Talk?" Chris looked at him not understanding.

While Vin and Chris seemed unaware of what he was talking about, Buck saw Mary’s face tell a different story. She had been seated at the kitchen table and as soon as he made mention of ‘talk’, her eyes dropped, unable to meet his gaze. She knew, Buck decided. She knew what was being said and was still willing to have Vin in her house, despite the rumour mongering that would build into frenzy when his presence was discovered. God, what a woman.

"I didn’t find out much about any strangers in town today but everyone was talking alright." Buck volunteered reluctantly, his eyes still on Mary.

"About?" Chris wondered since when had it become so painstaking to make Buck Wilmington talk.

"About you and Mrs Travis sleeping together."

Chris blinked and stared at him in a mixture of astonishment and pure outrage. "WHAT?" He exclaimed in the angriest voice that Mary had ever heard him use. It made her jump. "Who’s been talking?" He demanded, taking an angry step towards Buck.

Vin immediately put down his cup of coffee and strode in between them. "Take it easy, Chris." He said firmly. Chris paused and turned away, looking at Mary and realising at that moment, nothing that Buck had said was surprised her. She was aware of the gossip and had said nothing to him!

"Mary?" He looked at her sternly.

"I had a visit from Victoria Kendall this morning." Mary admitted reluctantly, knowing there was no avoiding it now. While she had not deliberately kept the scandal away from him, she had to confess a certain hesitation in bringing it up. In all truth, there had been hardly time to think about the lady’s visit earlier when so much else was happening around them.

"Who?" Neither Buck nor Chris recognised the name.

"Victoria Kendall." Mary repeated. "She’s the owner of the Emporium."

"Oh yes," Buck retorted feeling some of his humour return. "Chris is pretty familiar with the Emporium."

Chris threw him an evil glare before remarking sharply. "This is hardly the time, Buck."

Nevertheless, Buck was smiling and that was a good sign, Chris had to admit, even if it was at his expense. "I’ve never seen her."

"How odd," Mary mused, thinking that everyone must have been aware by Victoria Kendall by now. Her arrival in town and the establishment of the Emporium had attracted much attention. "She’s the woman who is always escorted by a man named Wilkins. Surely you’ve seen Mr Wilkins, he is a big man with a very odd scar running on the side of his head, like he had been hit with an axe or something."

"I know him." Vin offered having seen the man around town on occasion. "I’ve seen him at the hotel but I thought the lady was his wife."

Something about how Mary had described the man suddenly jarred loose a memory in light of his recent recollection of his past. It rose up in his mind like dank water from some forgotten pool in his mind and what emerged was not all pleasant. Chris looked at her sharply. "Sort of dark hair with not much on top and a big moustache, like Buck’s?" He probed, suddenly having a very bad feeling about the elusive Mrs Kendall and her unseen companion.

"That’s him." Mary nodded in answer. "You have seen him." She declared.

"No." Chris shook his head. However, his face belied his words. At the moment, he only had suspicions but he had to make certain. If it what he suspected was even half true then this revenge that everyone was experiencing had little do with any of the seven but with him personally and perhaps indirectly, Buck Wilmington. "What did she say, this Mrs Kendall?" Chris replied softly, not really interested in her answer because his thoughts were too preoccupied with Wilkins and the possibilities that came with him.

"Only that she heard stories about us," Mary said unhappy that they were back on that subject. It seemed as if Chris did know Mr Wilkins but was being very evasive about it. She made a mental note to question him about it when they were alone. "She came to warn me that the town was talking about me and that I should be concerned. Apparently Mr Wilkins claimed that you had been telling people about us."

"That’s a lie." Vin retorted before Chris could open his mouth to defend himself against such an allegation.

"I know that." Mary replied meeting Chris’ gaze with a look of affection. "However, she thought I ought to know."

Chris gave her a smile meant only for her, pleased that she trusted him enough to know that he was incapable of doing anything of the sort. However, things were falling quickly into place now that he had somewhere to begin. After a moment, he took a deep breath and uncovered their next course of action. "Mary I need you to wire the judge." He instructed after a moment. "I need him to contact someone at Tascoma and see if the reward money came from Crescent Falls."

Both Buck and Vin turned to him immediately.

"Crescent Falls?" Mary exclaimed in surprise. "Why Crescent Falls?" Then she recalled the story that Chris had told them earlier.

"Because this Mr Wilkins sound a hell of a lot like Willis."

"You don’t mean Saul Willis?" Buck’s eyes narrowed in recognition of the name. Suddenly, he had a good idea of what was going through Chris’ mind. It now made sense why neither of them had chance to come across the man. If he was who they think he was, Wilkins would have taken great pains to avoid them. Even after thirteen years, he could not afford for them to recognise him. Both Buck and Chris knew Willis or Wilkins as he now called himself, on sight and this whole twisted plan of vengeance might have died before it even had a chance to begin.

"I’m going down there Buck." Chris announced firmly. This was as good a time as any. "You coming?" He needed answers and he no longer believed that they could afford to wait.

"Damn straight." Buck said without question and in complete agreement now that he knew who they might be up against.

"What’s going on?" Vin demanded, exasperated at being left in the dark. "Who is this Willis?"

Chris and Buck exchanged glances and the look in each man’s eyes spoke volumes regarding their certainty that this was their mysterious opponent. Finally it was Buck who answered. "He was one of the hired guns at the Westbrook place."

********

Nathan Jackson was alive.

This state of affairs was of no greater surprise than to Nathan himself. The first thing that convinced him that he was in the land of the living was the chunky sound of a piano playing in the background and the low rumble of drunks in the saloon. It was just his luck to be shot and then be required to convalesce over a saloon. The noise did nothing to alleviate the throbbing pain in his head or the sharper pain that seemed concentrated on his torso and abdomen. As he tried to gain his bearing, a difficult enough task considering everything in the room was spinning about uncontrollably. It was at this point that he arrived at the brilliant deduction that perhaps he should try to get up. That effort was met with a pain so intense that it was enough to force his teeth together and extract a groan of exquisite agony.

"Nathan?" He heard Josiah’s voice call out to him.

Despite the pain, his head felt light as if filled with cotton instead of flesh and bond. His senses had taken on similar consistency and it took time to focus on Josiah’s voice or the man’s location in the room. At least he was able to hear Josiah footsteps approaching and after a moment of haze, he saw enough of his surroundings to know that he was in Ezra’s room above the saloon. He could see one of Ezra’s familiar tailored coats hanging off a hook against a wall and a robe draped over the bedpost. When Josiah finally appeared at his side, the preacher was wearing a wide grin on his face, obviously pleased at seeing Nathan finally rejoin the land of the living.

"Its good to see you brother." Josiah replied, pulling up a chair to the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I been dragged under a stage coach." Nathan croaked, his voice little more that a squeak. Instinctively, he reached for his throat and felt the bandage wrapped tightly around his neck. Tugging gently at it in irritation, he was rewarded with a fresh bout of pain as the ruined neck throbbed at his touch. In frustration, Nathan made another attempt at sitting up before he was force to reconsider in light of the effort it took and the pain it engendered. Finally, he decided perhaps he ought to take his own advice when his comrades were injured and just stay where he was.

"Settle down Nathan," Josiah said placing her hand on his bare shoulder, requiring little effort to keep Nathan in bed. "You’ve been hurt bad. I wouldn’t try moving around too much."

Nathan nodded weakly and then remembered the events that had brought him to this bed. The memories were as hazy as his senses but enough of it returned in a swirl of images for him to recall some things quite clearly. Livid in his mind were the four men who had waited for him in the darkness of the night, taunting him with words like nigger before everything dissolved into a blaze of gunfire. The ground had claimed him with such speed that he still remembered dirt grinding against his cheek and the fearful awareness of the dying to come. "I remember." He said softly.

At this point, Nathan regained enough of his faculties to become curious about the fresh bandages around his body and the fact the he was indeed alive after such severe injuries. It appeared that he had been under the ministrations of a skilled surgeon because the healer in him knew that most of his injuries could not be treated any other way. Since he was remotely the closest thing to a doctor in these parts, Nathan wondered who had taken care of him. "Did you get the saw bones in Bitter Creek to fix me up?" He inquired.

"No," Josiah shook his head. "There wasn’t time to get you to Bitter Creek. The new doctor arrived the day you went to the village."

"Lucky for me." Nathan mumbled but felt some relief that his injuries had been tended to by a professional and not some horse doctor. Although he could not see the injuries beneath the bandages, he knew that he had been under the care of a capable surgeon because despite the throbbing and the pain, he was still alive and did not appear to be suffering any ill effects beyond that. .

The door swung open with a gentle creak and a decidedly feminine voice entered the room. "How’s my patient doing Josiah?" Alex inquired, her gaze moving to the bed.

"He’s awake." Josiah announced cheerfully.

"Now that is good news." Nathan saw Ezra’s voice responding with just as much pleasure. The gambler was wearing a genuine grin of happiness on his face and Nathan wondered just how long he had been unconscious to receive such an overwhelming show of affection from these normally dispassionate men. However, his attention was focussed mostly on the woman who apparently was his doctor. She was very beautiful although she did not look at all like a Negro or an Indian. In fact, her appearance was a curious mix of the exotic, held with refined polish of western culture and judging by the way Ezra’s eyes was following her across the room, it was a mix the gambler did not at all mind.

She breezed past Josiah who immediately vacated his seat for her and stood aside while she conducted her business with Nathan. "How are we feeling Mr Jackson?"

Nathan found his voice although a moment later, he wished he had not. "You’re the doctor?" He stammered in surprise and immediately saw Josiah roll his eyes away while Ezra hid a smile beneath his hand.

"Well enough to be chauvinistic I see." Alex replied unperturbed as she began carrying out a quick examination of his bandages and his general physical state.

"I’m sorry Ma’am," Nathan apologised feeling pretty stupid for making such a comment, when it was thanks to her skills that he was still alive. "Miss Travis said nothing about the doctor being a lady. I was just a little surprised." He admitted honestly. "You do good work. I reckon I should be dead by all rights."

"Well thank you," Alex smiled, knowing he was not meaning to be offensive and was sincere in his apology. From all the concern his injuries had engendered in his companions, Alex guessed Nathan was a good man and an exception healer. Under those circumstances, she felt he was deserving of her forgiveness. In truth, she felt some measure of admiration in his will to live when a weaker man might have preferred to give up instead of fighting.

"How bad was I hurt?" He asked although Alex guessed he was perceptive enough to have some idea.

"Do you want the technical version or the layman’s terms I give to your friends?" She winked at him playfully. He managed a small laugh and that pleased Alex considerably. Someone had once told her humour was the best medicine and she had used it enough in the past to know that it was partially true. Alex found that sharing a joke with the people she treated often went a long way in enabling them to trust her.

"I do believe we were insulted." Ezra remarked, meeting her gaze with a look of mock hurt

"We’ll live." Josiah deadpanned, as he was more interested in her evaluation of Nathan’s recovery.

"You were shot in mid thorax. The bullet passed through your lung and was very near collapse. The second bullet penetrated your abdomen. It passed straight through your liver because I found no bullet and an exit wound. I did what I could to patch up the internal bleeding but this is frontier medicine, so I will be honest with you, recovery will be slow. It would be best if you remain in bed for at least a week to give the sutures time to do their work. After that, no riding at all. I don’t want to see you doing anything extraneous. Your throat was grazed but that injury is mostly superficial. The bullet caused some mild swelling which is why you’re not in the best singing voice. Your friends have been very diligent in seeing that you get the medication I prescribed which has been so far successful in fighting off any infection."

"So I’m alright." He said with a weak smile.

"Better than most with your injuries." Alex added for the benefit of Josiah and Ezra who needed to hear at least one person in their life would recover without any permanent effects. She wished she was able to help Inez with that much certainty. "Then again most people don’t have the friend you do either." She remarked, casting a gaze at the two men standing vigil at the foot of his bed.

"Thank you Miss." Nathan replied, glancing at them gratefully. He felt a certain amount of burden eased from his shoulders, knowing that his recovery would not be detrimental to the health of Four Corners since it appeared that the new doctor had things well in hand at the moment.

"My pleasure Mr Jackson," She smiled warmly, "I have no intention of becoming the only practicing physician in this town."

"Nathan," Josiah said coming forward, with a decidedly serious issue to present. Alex gave him a cautionary look that implied she did not wished him interrogated. Josiah could ask his question but Alex did not wish him to upset Nathan in any way. He was simply too weak to cope with the stress of such a thing. "Do you know who did this to you?"

Nathan thought back to the events of that night no longer requiring to fight the haze that seemed to have lifted from his mind. His strongest memories were that of the man who had shot him, not the others with him. Ironically when his assailant had fired his weapon, the flash created by the explosion of gases had lit the man’s features enough for Nathan to recognise him. He remembered feeling some confusion as to why in the split second before the bullet tore through his body.

"I don’t know his name." Nathan said taking a deep breath and felt the action laborious. "But he’s a friend of that lady who owns the Emporium."

"You mean Mrs Kendall?" Ezra exclaimed, knowing the woman well. When she had first arrived, he had entertained notions of charming the homely lady, made attractive by her sizeable fortune. However, when Ezra learnt she was in the company of a Mr Wilkins, a rather sombre looking gentlemen who created gossip regarding the mighty scar running along the side of his face, he abandoned the idea.

"You know this person?" Josiah looked at Ezra in question.

"Why yes," he nodded mutely, mystified as to why this man would want to shoot Nathan. "I have seen him on occasion with Mrs Kendall but why would he want to attack Nathan?"

"Perhaps you should ask him." Alex declared.

"I think that’s a very good idea." Josiah agreed. "Come on Ezra." He gestured to the gambler before turning to Alex. "We’ll leave JD here to keep an eye on things. You think you can keep Nathan company awhile?"

Alex glanced at Nathan and nodded with a smile. "I think I can manage."

As the two men started to walk out, Alex called out to Ezra before he left the room. "Mr Standish?"

Ezra looked over his shoulder at her.

"Don’t assume that everyone is susceptible to that charming smile of yours." She said trying to hide her concern for his welfare. "Watch yourself."

"I never refuse the advice of a lady." He smiled, tipping his hat to her before disappearing out the room after Josiah.

Nathan watched the exchange between the two of them and realised then there was more to their subtle looks and gestures that anyone might have guessed. Fortunately, Nathan knew enough about people to read them well and what he was seeing between Ezra and Miss Styles appeared to be little bit more than simple flirtation. When they were alone, Nathan stared at her and remarked with genuine sincerity.

"Miss, you’re in more trouble than I am."

Part Five

PRISONERS AND PAWNS

It was raining the night he rode away.

He remembered looking up at the sky, searching for the stars while indulging a rare hope that one of those twinkling lights was actually Alice telling him she was okay. Thick cumulous clouds of grey had glared back at him, allowing no such revelation, choosing instead to mirror the dark in his grieving soul. In truth, he had tried to keep a brave face for as long as he could. He could not bring himself to disrupt her eternal rest with his sadness. She used to delight in his ability to make her laugh and being unable to do so now made her seem farther away than death had already taken her. When Chris had found him on the trail, he knew she was gone even before the words were spoken. He had not understand how he knew but he had sensed her slipping away from him even before Chris arrived to confirm the fact.

The funeral was over by the time he returned to Crescent Falls. All there was left for him was to say his farewells to a wooden cross with her name scrawled upon it. He remembered standing before the fresh mound of earth, trying to associate it with her and being at a loss to understand why he could not see her in the dirt. He had not cried then. He refused to allow the town to see that Damien Westbrook had taken that from him too. The well of grief remained hidden even after Chris had brought Damien to Bitter Creek and to a hangman’s noose. Chris noticed it but said nothing. He had expected as much. Chris had his own demons and was not about to lecture anyone on exposing theirs when he could not even speak of his.

He left Crescent Falls forever almost a month after Damien had swung. It would be some months before he and Chris ran into each other again but he always expected they would. Something about their friendship was incapable of dissolving no matter how much time had passed. He quit his job with Keith Blesdoe who understood his pain and the need to remove himself from all that would only remind him of the bride that would never be his. He was nineteen years old with a wad full of cash that was meant for a parcel of land and a proper honeymoon. It was later spent on drinking himself into oblivion for the next six months. What had been before Crescent Falls and immediately after it had been a blur that no longer held any significance to him. It was the journey in between that stayed affixed in his mind.

The rain had been relentless, pelting down on him with such force that his hat drooped around his ears and not even his oilskins were able to keep out the huge droplets of water. His horse had trudge through the mud and water, unhappy about travelling in such weather but almost empathically understanding its master needed to be away from the place left behind. He had barely noticed the soaking of his skin or the dreadful chill in his bones as he rode through the night, putting distance between himself and that wooden cross in the churchyard.

In the darkness of wet and cold, he finally shed the tears that had remained pent up for so long. It was possibly the first time in his life that Buck Wilmington had cried. He swore it would be the last.

"Buck, are you okay?"

The voice brought him back to the present and Buck glanced sideways to see Chris staring at him with concern. He shrugged off the memories, remembering that they were riding to Crescent Falls for a danger steeped in the present not for the relic of some ancient pain. "Yeah," he nodded. "I’m fine."

"Nothing much has changed." Chris commented, knowing how difficult this journey was for his friend. The two men had been riding most of the night. Conversation had been short and obligatory because each were battling their own personal demons the closer they came to the town. In the years since Alice, both Chris and Buck had given Crescent Falls a wide berth. For differing reasons, neither wanted to return to the town that had been the cause of so much violence and heartache.

"Towns like these usually don’t. Things that happen get forgotten and before long no one remembers why things happens or care when they do." Buck sighed. Although the track had changed, they would occasionally come across a turn of road or a tree stooped over in gnarled familiarity that triggered memories of the times they might had ridden by. Not much could be seen in the darkness but a brief moment of illumination from moonlight told them they were going in the right direction.

"Have you been back here since then?" Chris asked.

"No." Buck said shortly. "Do you go back to the farm?"

By the farm, Chris immediately realised he was talking about the abandoned Larabee property that once was home to Sarah and Adam. "Only that one time." Chris confessed deciding that Buck had made his point. He had no wish to revisit the homestead he had shared with his wife and son because he did not need to endure the pain of all that entailed. Crescent Falls had the ignominy of feeling the same way to Buck.

"After you brought Westbrook in, I didn’t see the point." Buck replied quietly. "Nothing for me there except bad memories."

"I know what you mean." Chris said sympathising. He wished he could say something to Buck that would make the hurt go away but he was never very good at offering her comfort. Nathan and Josiah were so much better at these things. However, Buck’s silence which was rare for Buck, prompted him to make some attempt. "Buck, Inez will be alright." He began wishing he had something more to add than that seemingly cliche response. "She’s a strong woman. She’ll recover."

Buck stiffened. Inez was still a fresh wound in his mind, tender and painful. He had not seen her before leaving for Crescent Falls and he did not know whether he wanted to or not. "I know that Chris." He admitted. "If Willis is behind all this, you know why he picked Inez, don’t you?"

Chris knew perfectly well why Inez had been selected. It had nothing to do with her being a friend of the seven or being exceptionally desirable. It had all to do with her being the woman of Buck Wilmington’s supposed dreams. Since her arrival in town, he had been pursuing her affections like a man possessed. Everyone in town knew about his feelings for Inez after the very public duel that he had fought in her honour. Despite the fact that the relationship had not progressed beyond their verbal jousting, it was no secret that theirs was a romance in the forming. People watched in mild fascination, knowing that it was a matter of time before the fiery relationship was finally consummated.

Inez was the perfect instrument of vengeance on Buck Wilmington, precisely because he cared so much for her, as he once done for Alice Sullivan.

"You know what I can’t help thinking." Buck swallowed thickly, staring at the trail ahead, unable to meet Chris’ gaze. "Maybe if I hadn’t run after her like I did, if I didn’t make it so plain that I wanted her, maybe those men wouldn’t have hurt her. You know they did it because it was a way to get at me. Just like Damien got at Alice." Even as he said it, the words felt revolting in his mouth.

Chris knew. He had known even before Buck had voiced it himself. Chris had hoped it would have escaped Buck’s attention but then he was often in the habit of underestimating his friend. He knew what would come with that realisation, the guilt and self-loathing that he lived with every day of his life. Even now, with Mary in his life, he could not completely dispel it. "That’s not true, Buck." He said hoping he sounded a damn sight more convinced than he felt.

"Yeah it is Chris." Buck looked at him and Chris saw the glistening in his eyes. "You know it." He turned back to the trail.

Buck’s ability to bounce back, to see the good in every situation was why they had remained friends for so long. Despite everything, Buck had always tried to be the perennial optimist that chased away the darkness from his soul. Chris valued that part of Buck Wilmington and viewed it in envy because he would never know what it was like to feel so completely, without fear or reservation. Buck enjoyed living his carefree life despite the hurdles placed before him while Chris had to struggle every inch of the way to experience the slightest variation in his guarded existence.

"Listen to me." Chris said firmly, unprepared to let this go any further. "Alice was not your fault." His voice was sharp and his tone was one that Buck was unable to ignore. "Damien Westbrook raped her and beat her. She took her own life because of that. You did not kill Westbrook’s family, I did. I’m the one who shot them all to hell and probably pissed off their hired gun so much that he’s come after me by taking revenge on everyone I care about. That includes you. You don’t even exist to him. It’s always been about me! What happened to Inez is his way of getting back at me by doing the one thing that would break you. Don’t give him any more help."

"But…" Buck opened his mouth to speak but Chris did not give him the chance.

"No buts." Chris retorted. "I need you clear and I need you focussed. We don’t know what’s waiting for us in that town and I need to know I can’t count on you? Can I?"

Buck took a deep breath. He had not liked what Chris had said and he could not totally exonerate himself of the guilt but the words had penetrated. "You can count on me Chris." He said, resolved to do exactly that.

"Good." Chris nodded slowly. He looked forward again into the night and wondered if any of this could be prevented or had it been fate from the first moment, he had decided to take care of things for Buck? Those were questions better left unanswered. Despite their understanding, the mood remained tense and would do so for the next mile or two. It unnerved Chris more than anything else that happened in the last two days that Buck should be so quiet. Under normal circumstances, Buck’s prattling would be incessant and Chris had become accustomed to it during long journeys. Now the silence bothered even him.

"Today is Mary’s birthday, you know." Chris said suddenly. He could feel the wrapped box still inside his coat pocket. With everything that transpired over the past two days, there had been no opportunity to give her the present he had bought her. He also realised that he had not even offered her a birthday wish and felt inordinately disturbed by the fact.

"I guessed." Buck replied, with a hint of the old Buck in his eyes. "I’ve never seen you more jumpy than when you have to buy for a woman."

Chris glared at him. "I bought Sarah presents." He protested.

"Chris," Buck met his gaze sarcastically. "In the eight years you were married to that saint, did you ever buy her anything in town?"

His non-committal shrug was answer enough.

"Chris," Buck took a deep breath and decided to speak his mind while they were on the subject of Mary Travis. "You know you’re going to have to do the right thing by her."

Chris shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, disliking any mention of this subject. Buck immediately read his body language as a warning to leave it alone but today, Buck cared little for his own welfare. Mary was his friend too and the repercussions of the town’s knowledge of her relationship with Chris would undoubtedly have serious effect on her standing in the community. Mary functioned because she was considered a town leader, virtuous and brave, with particular emphasis on the virtue part of the equation.

"She’s a good woman Chris," Buck continued, even though Chris was no longer staring at him but glaring into the dark as if will alone could deafen him to Buck’s words. "Once people start talking, we both know they won’t stop. If this Mrs Kendall has anything to do with Willis, then chances are they’ve been watching you and Mary for some time now. Lord knows, they got a bead on the rest of us. Chances are good, someone has actually seen you leave Mary’s in the morning. Her reputation is already in trouble and she needs the paper to survive in Four Corners. You got to do the right thing and ask her to marry you."

"I did ask her to marry me." Chris responded with slow deliberation that masked nothing of the anger he felt. Of course, he agreed with everything Buck had said. Since the very beginning, he had wanted to marry her but it was Mary who felt the hesitation. Chris could not understand it but he had been unwilling to push, knowing that their worlds were different and he had to respect her desire to adjust. The last thing he had wanted was their relationship to harm her in any way and he had been mindful of her reputation. How many nights had he snuck away in the dark, never wanting to leave the warm bed they shared just so she could keep her honour?

"You did?" Buck looked at him in surprise. "What happened?"

"She said no." Came the taut reply.

"No?" This was getting even more bizarre by the minute. "Did she say why?"

Well he revealed this much, Chris thought with irritation. There was no reason to keep the rest of it a secret. "She said we’re not ready to be married."

Buck was right, it would be so much simpler if they were just married and he did want to marry her. He had not wanted anything so much since Sarah. He loved Mary with a passion that he could hardly believe at times. It was not the soft, subtle kind of love he shared with Sarah where every experience was new and fresh. His love for Mary was intense and paralysing. When they made love it was not just an act of consummation, it was a marathon of torrid, steamy, sensuality. He could go mad from the desire of just thinking about it. How was any man supposed to keep himself away from that once experienced?

"And your response?" Buck probed further, knowing Chris was not prone to such revelations and took advantage while he was in the mind to talk.

"I said okay." He looked at Buck quizzically, as if there could be any other answer.

Buck rolled his eyes and stared at Chris with a mixture of astonishment and plain disgust. "You said okay and left it at that?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Chris barked back. He found himself examining his actions that day coming back from Sweetwater and wondering if what he had done was wrong in light of Buck’s expression at this moment.

"You’re supposed to sweep the gal off her feet. Tell her you don’t care to adjust and you can’t wait! Jesus, you were married to Sarah for eight years, did you learn anything about women?"

Chris was starting to get angry. "I learned plenty."

"Obviously not enough." Buck retorted. "Chris, its plain to see she’s scared."

"Scared of what?" Chris demanded.

"Scared of losing her independence, of getting hurt again! Who knows? She just is and you don’t help much by letting her stew instead of asking her what the problem is."

Chris wanted to retaliate but little that Buck said was untrue. When Mary had refused his offer of marriage, how hard had he tried to convince her otherwise? As he recalled, he had opted to let things stand because it did seem less complicated than making their relationship official. Perhaps Buck was right, perhaps he should have made more of an effort to convince her.

Or perhaps Mary was not the only one who felt afraid.

******

Mrs Kendall occupied a suite of rooms above the Emporium, accessible by a set of steps at the side of the building. In the last two months of her occupation in Four Corners, she had been a staple at numerous town functions and was soon considered one of its more prominent citizens. The elusive Mr Wilkins was at her side always, providing fodder for whispers and speculation regarding the nature of their relationship. Although he claimed to be her business partner, he did not appear the type to be concerned with books and ledgers. If anything, he seemed a man more comfortable with a gun in his hand.

Both Ezra and Josiah checked their guns as they made their way up the wooden steps, just in case they encountered any trouble. In truth, neither expected any difficulty since they doubted Wilkins would place the lady in danger but then they knew nothing regarding the nature of their association and so things as always, were in doubt.

Ezra kept his derringer tucked neatly beneath the folds of his jacket as they reached the doorway. In the window, they could see a light radiating from the partially parted lace curtains. There were sounds behind the door so they knew someone was up and about. Although it was dark, it was still early enough to be respectable and certainly appropriate for a lady to have gentlemen callers.

"What do you know about the woman?" Josiah inquired after they had knocked on the door and waited patiently for the shuffling feet they heard behind it, approach to allow them entry.

"Very little." Ezra replied. Josiah was aware of his designs on Mrs Kendall, even though nothing had come of his interest. With the arrival of Alexandra Styles in Four Corners, any such dalliance seemed miles away and fortunately so. "I know she is extremely wealthy and has no family to speak of. However, these are intelligences I have garnered from local gossip."

"Gossip seems to be the special of the day." Josiah retorted having special dislike for those whom indulged in the uncontrollable urge to speak idly about others. "You sometimes wonder why God cursed us with the ability to speak."

"Because sign language is too difficult to learn, Josiah." Ezra remarked sarcastically.

The preacher gave him a dark look just before the door swung open and they found themselves facing a young woman that Ezra had seen once or twice in the Emporium. He could not remember her name except that she had offered him a smile as she breezed past. Obviously, her duties also extended to being a companion to Mrs Kendall as some rich ladies were inclined to have in the cities.

"We’re here to see Mrs Kendall." Ezra said politely before taking his hat off.

"Is Mrs Kendall expecting you?" The young woman eyed Ezra and Josiah with obvious scrutiny.

"Sadly no," Ezra offered her his most charming smile. The one he used to display when in the process of charming an easy mark into handing over all their money. While the purpose was different, he hoped it would nevertheless serve in gaining their entry into Mrs Kendall’s presence. "However, the matter is of some urgency." He decided to omit using Wilkin’s name because he did not want the villain to take flight.

"Well," she shrugged. "You may enter but I cannot guarantee that Mrs Kendall will see you."

"I understand." Ezra replied giving Josiah a look to let him do the talking. Once they were inside, there was nothing that would keep them from speaking to the widow, not after her ‘associate’ had so cowardly gunned down Nathan.

They were led through a narrow corridor, which eventually led into a sizeable parlour. Mrs Kendall had arrived in Four Corners with very little furniture of her own and judging by the pristine state of the furnishings, Ezra assumed that almost everything present in the parlour was recently purchased. Ezra had been among enough opulence in his life to recognise the authentic Persian rugs on the floor and that the upholstery was from the finest fabrics. Perhaps he had underestimated the size of her fortune.

"Wait here." The girl said coldly and disappeared into one of the connecting rooms.

Ezra glanced over his shoulder at Ezra who had removed his own hat was studying the room with sharp observation.

"Charming young woman." He remarked.

"Obviously not as charming as the good doctor." Josiah replied with a faint smile.

"What ever do you mean Mr Sanchez?" Ezra feigning innocence. He did not even know how he felt about Alexandra yet, how could Josiah? Besides, something about the preacher knowing that he was anything but indifferent to the doctor made him uncomfortable. He had grown accustomed to letting the others think that he was impervious to a pretty face unless he wished it. Admitting that he was just as susceptible as falling head over heels as the next person was too much for him to bear.

"I think you know perfectly well." The big man answered.

Ezra was about to make a devastating rebuttal that would end all of Josiah’s speculations when Mrs Kendall made her appearance. His earlier judgement of her had not changed. Victoria Kendall was a homely looking woman who would undoubtedly marry some day to a man interested in her fortune. Looking at her made him appreciate Alexandra all the more. She was rarely seen wearing anything bright and cheery and the dark brown of her clothes only seemed to add to her gloomy disposition.

"Mrs Kendall." Ezra said politely. "We have not been formally introduced."

"You are Ezra Standish and Josiah Sanchez." The woman said shortly and bid them to sit on the very uncomfortable looking chairs.

Reluctantly both men sat down and Ezra saw her companion standing in a corner of the room, eaves dropping on their audience out of sight but clearly in earshot. Victoria seemed to be staring at them hard, with an edge in her stare that made Ezra feel uncomfortable for some reason. She reminded him of Chris Larabee in that way and the feeling only seemed to put him on guard even more. A sidelong glance at Josiah indicated that his friend felt the same disturbance

"We are grateful that you have seen us without appointment, Mrs Kendall." Ezra began. "I realise it is highly inconvenient."

"It would be less so if you got to the point, Mr Standish." She said coldly. Her arms were folded in impatience and Ezra had a feeling that Alexandra was correct in this instance, his natural charm was not going to let him get very far in this instance.

"We are looking for Mr Wilkins." Josiah retorted with as much iciness to his voice. He knew she was playing a game with them and even if the rules were not explained as of yet, he did not intend to waste his time staggering in the dark.

"Mr Wilkins?" Her response was practised. "Whatever do you want with him?"

There was just a hint of surprise to add with a touch of puzzlement, all in all an impressive bit of method acting. If it were not for the fact that Ezra had been taught by the best, he would not have picked it up. Instead of telling Josiah to keep quiet and allow him to speak, Ezra decided he was going to take a note out of Chris’ book and observe while Josiah went on the offensive.

"He shot a friend of mine." Josiah answered, deciding not to spare her any knowledge. Perhaps, he could shock her into revealing something.

"You mean the nigger?" She looked at hem with wide-eyed surprise but Ezra could see the malice in her eyes.

"His name is Nathan Jackson." Josiah said slowly, emphasising each word for good measure. "He’s a good man and a damn fine healer. Your Mr Wilkins shot him in cold blood."

She barely registered that part of the conversation. "Mr Sanchez," she spoke to him like an unlearned child. "You may shave a dog and teach it walk upright but that does not make him a man."

Before Josiah could react, Ezra enclosed his fingers on the man’s shoulder. Ezra silenced him with a look and turned to Mrs Kendall, understanding there and then what kind of woman she was and what sort of game she was playing. "That is one opinion, Madam." He said unwilling to show weakness. "But the law of the land saws shooting a nigger even if he’s been shaved and walks upright like a man, is still first degree murder. You can help us bring Wilkins in or you can stand with him when he hangs."

"You know it was the best thing for this town." She continued, unfazed by his threat. "A nigger has no place working black magic on decent white folk. Of course, getting rid of him didn’t change things either…"

"Don’t." Ezra warned knowing where this was going.

"Now that they have a whore the same colour impersonating a doctor." She said it with a smile.

That did it.

"That trash as you call her," Ezra stood up in white-hot outrage. "Is more woman and more human then you’ll ever be! I know your kind Madam, you sit around in your parlour with vinegar in your veins, thinking about the good old days when beaus would come a calling for you, hoping that money would do what the lack of beauty and intelligence cannot. You may vilify the good doctor Madam, but when its all said and done, she is the one who keeps life in this world, while the only way you will produce it is to hope that alcohol is strong enough to dull the disgust of your would be husband!"

"How dare you!" Her companion rushed out of the shadows to defend the woman whose pallor was almost white from the brutal if somewhat deserved response. It appeared that Mrs Kendall was not good at taking the insults as much as giving them.

"Get out!" The young woman raged, glaring at Josiah to remove Ezra from the premises. He need not be reminded twice as he started pulling Ezra out of the room. The gambler was glaring in open fury at the woman who had dared to impugn the name of Alexandra Styles. The words she had used had almost made Ezra forget he was a gentleman and he was barely aware that Josiah was removing him from the room until they were out the corridor. She was still raving when they reached the door.

As Josiah closed the door behind him and they emerged once again in the night air, he was in a mild state of state of shock. In the year since he had first met Ezra Standish, this was the first time Josiah had seen him so angry about anything. Well there was that time he and Maude were having a price war between the hotel and the saloon but that had been about money.

"I had no idea." Josiah said staring at him with a faint smile.

"What?" Ezra snapped, still glaring over his shoulder as they put more distance in between themselves and odious Mrs Kendall.

"That you were so smitten."

"I am not smitten." Ezra turned back to him sharply. "I have a great deal of respect for Ms Styles."

"Obviously." Josiah retorted without any trace of belief in his words. "Unfortunately," Josiah sighed returning to the issue at hand. "We didn’t find out anything about Mr Wilkins."

"She wouldn’t help us even if she knew." Ezra retorted with more certainty in his mind about that fact that any other in his life. "She knows exactly what he did Josiah. I saw it in her eyes. I can spot a con a mile away and I’m telling, she’s not what she appears to be. Everything she said to us was for the sole purpose of provoking a response, perhaps to detract us from what she did know about him."

"Why?" Josiah asked out loud, not expecting an answer.

"I don’t know." Ezra replied anyway. "However, I have a feeling that the truth is in her relationship with him. I want to know what he is to her."

Josiah looked at him. Suddenly Josiah guessed there was more to Ezra’s reasoning than just the slight to Alex Styles’ good name. Although he rarely used it for anything other than furthering his monetary pursuits, Ezra’s intellect was formidable. Almost as formidable as Chris Larabee’s. "What’s on your mind Ezra?"

"I cannot explain it," Ezra said honestly, but he could feel this gnawing at his inside with unrelenting persistence. "But I am staring to wonder if Wilkins is really the enemy."

**********

The saloon seemed to be the only place in Crescent Falls that was still open at that time of night. Chris and Buck entered the half-empty establishment with little more than a curious glance in their direction at their arrival. Although Crescent Falls was hardly a big town, even Four Corners eclipsed it for size; the reign of the Westbrooks had established a malaise of indifference that prevailed even after so long. It was a place with too many daughters buried in tragic circumstances that was best left unspoken and thus Crescent Falls became a place for keeping secrets.

The two visitors from Four Corners made their way through the faces that were drinking, playing cards and enjoying the hospitality of the working girls that were moving throughout the room in their lurid coloured clothes and brightly painted faces. Despite the entertainment, the atmosphere seemed to exude a feeling of grim acceptance. That much about this town had not changed, Chris decided. It was like this when he left twelve years ago. It was no different now.

"What can I get you?" The bar tender, a fat, unkempt man with a bushy moustache not unlike Buck’s without the appeal asked him.

Buck looked at the man closely and recognised the face. "Lucas?" He ventured a guess as Buck examined him closely. The years had affected Lucas with a few extra pounds under his belt and a few more strands of grey in his hair. He was an ornery cuss back then and Buck had no illusions that time had changed that disposition for the better.

The man called Lucas returned his gaze with as much scrutiny, trying to place the face. "Wilmington?" Lucas had never called him by his first name. In fact, Buck remembered that it was the bartender’s habit to call everyone by their surnames. It hailed back to Lucas’ days in the army.

"Yeah," Buck grinned. "How you doing?" He extended a hand.

Lucas smiled widely. "I haven’t seen you around in years." The man replied. "Didn’t you used to hang with that no good gunfighter Larabee?"

Chris looked up at him, wondering what other dazzling character references Lucas was going to exhume from his memories of thirteen years ago.

"Yeah," Buck replied, giving Chris a mischievous smile as he nodded. "That’s him. So how about something to drink for me and friend here?"

Lucas turned to Chris as if it was the first time he had realised that Buck had not come into the saloon alone. Chris responded with a slight tip of his hat that hid much of his face in the dim lighting of the bar. During the years when Chris used to frequent this establishment, he had always drunk alone unless Buck happened to be in town. Even then, he had wished to fade into the background and his general demeanour told most people he had no wish for company. There was no reason why Lucas would remember his face enough to recognise him after all these years and Chris preferred it to remain that way. With his history in this town, it might be simpler for Buck to get information without Lucas privy to Chris’ identity.

"So what brings you back to town?" Lucas inquired.

"Just passing through." Buck lied. "So, what’s the news?" He inquired. Prior to their entry here, Chris had told Buck that since he had been more familiar with the folks in town, it was probably best that he did the talking. While he listened to Buck question Lucas, his eyes moved across the saloon, keeping an eye on things and people.

"Ain’t much happened since you left." Lucas replied, tactfully avoiding all mention of the Westbrook family out of some desire to prevent the opening of any old wounds. At the time, everyone had known about Alice Sullivan and although they felt for Buck Wilmington’s loss, no one had been willing to take on Damien Westbrook or by extension, his father.

"What happened to the Westbrooks?" Buck asked without any trace of malice or distress in his voice. His calm manner in the asking of the question soon allayed Lucas’ fears of offending the man. In retrospect, the old man decided that it was natural that Buck would wish to know about the Westbrooks, considering how that family had damaged his life. During those dark years, Lucas was almost grateful that his wife had borne him sons, so he needed never know the shame visited upon the daughters of so many friends in town.

"Eloise didn’t last too long after Damien hung at Bitter Creek." Lucas replied pouring himself a drink after awhile. "The two girls got married and Haven passed into their hands. I think Rebecca moved up east with her husband, some doctor from Philadelphia if I recall correctly." Lucas sifted through the memories before bringing forth the image of a callow faced man with steel rimmed glasses. Lucy stayed on Haven for awhile. She ran Haven with her husband for about eight or nine years before he died. They never had any children so she sold up and moved back east, with Rebecca I was told."

"What about Saul Willis?" Buck eased gently into the purpose of their journey here. Although Chris seemed to be observing the crowd behind them, Buck knew better. The gunslinger was listening closely to everything that was being said even though he appeared indifferent to his conversation with Lucas.

"There was no call for his kind after James died." Lucas retorted, unashamed about hiding his obvious distaste. James Westbrook had used his hired guns to intimate everyone in Crescent Falls at one time or another. They had been his personal guard, protecting him and his family, no matter what the law had demanded. How many friends had died because of their refusal to let it go after Damien had raped or murdered their daughters? Lucas had lost count but he felt no love for the Westbrooks or their trained killers. "Most of them left although I think Willis stayed on to look after the place before the girls got married. He was mighty friendly with Lucy Westbrook until she got married. After that, he stayed on as Haven foreman. He disappeared after Lucy sold up."

"You wouldn’t know where he went, would you?" Buck asked, pretending to make it sound like a joke. "I wouldn’t mind running into him and having my gun go off in his face. By accident, mind you." He grinned as he laughed out loud.

The joke was not that funny but Lucas laughed nevertheless. "Too bad I don’t know. That be something to see." He retorted. "He just up and cleared off with one day but then Willis didn’t have any friends in town. No matter how long Damien Westbrook lay buried in the ground, people remembered how Willis protected him. "

"It was a nice idea." Buck half smiled, even though he was disappointed that there was nothing useful to be learned. He glanced in Chris’ direction and saw by the man’s expression that it was time to go. Both of them downed their drinks and Buck tossed a couple of coins in Lucas direction after some obligatory attempts at farewell.

"Hey Wilmington." Lucas called out as he saw the back of both men withdrew. "Best thing that ever happened to this town was Chris Larabee bringing in Damien Westbrook. If you ever see him, tell him we appreciate what he done."

Chris said nothing as he heard that strange show of gratitude. Buck nodded mutely, knowing how Chris felt about the events preceding his capture of Damien Westbrook. They were not actions of which Chris was at all proud but he nevertheless responded warmly to Lucas’ attempt. "I’ll be sure to tell him next I run into him."

When they had left the saloon behind them and were out in the fresh air once more, Chris turned to Buck. "I don’t think I want to come back here anytime soon." He replied, surveying the town limits before him. Crescent Falls was smaller than Four Corners. Its had probably been around a great deal longer but there was an aura of stagnancy about it that suggested it would one day slip into history with little more than a foot note of its existence. The town was dark and silent at this hour of the morning and Chris wondered if it was worth finding a place to bunk for the night before continuing their search at first light. He had to confess disliking the idea of staying here and he found himself longing for the raw vitality of Four Corners. Perhaps he was mellowing in his old age.

"Tell me about it." Buck remarked scanning the empty streets lined with a sparse collection of buildings that faded out of memory as soon as the image had passed his eyes. "But there is something I gotta do while I’m here."

He need not say what it was because Chris knew. He was half expecting Buck to make this request even before they approached the saloon. However, Buck had wished to get down to business while the saloon was still open and there was someone they could questions about Willis’ fate and the Westbrook as well.

"I understand." Chris nodded and followed Buck quietly as his friend made his way towards the churchyard.

*********

Mary could not sleep. Her thoughts were filled with Chris and she found herself wondering where he was at this moment. Had he reached Crescent Falls yet? The sleepless nights when he was away was starting to become a recurring theme in her life. Despite her confidence in his ability to take care of himself, she could not help worry that the day would arrive when there would be someone faster and better than he was. There were moments when she lay awake in her bed, unable to shake that fear out of her mind.

She tossed and turned in her sheets, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep and finding that it was hard to do without Chris. In the past weeks, she had become accustomed to his warmth in her bed and was starting to wonder how she had ever managed without him being there. Despite herself, Mary was beginning to look forward to the time when there would be no covert departures in the early hours of the morning and they could finally see out a sunrise together. Perhaps, it was time to accept that proposal of marriage. However, even as the thought grazed her mind, she found herself wondering if this sudden acceptance had to do with the threat of her reputation now that the secret about them was public knowledge?

It bothered her hat she might marry him because she was compelled to and not because of some genuine desire. She loved him. She knew that without doubt or hesitation. When they were together, it was like nothing Mary had ever known, even with Steven. Steven had been her first lover and nothing he ever did seemed wrong because there had been no basis for comparison. When she was with Chris, every moment of their lovemaking left her breathless. They did not just make love; they drank each other with a passion so wild and unyielding that she felt literally swept off her feet. His power over her was nothing short of devastating. Mary could not explain it but she knew it had gone too far for her to live without it and to a certain extent, she knew he felt the same.

It was just the idea of marriage that frightened her so much, not the possibility of being with him forever. There was no reason to question what kind of husband he would make because his mourning for Sarah and Adam proved he would be a devoted one. As for Billy, her son loved him almost as much as he loved his mother. With guilt, Mary realised that she had not told Billy about her relationship with Chris. In fact, she had told no one at all, except Inez. Even Orin and Evie Travis had no idea that there had been anything upon which to build such a liaison.

To top it all of, she was twenty-nine years old today and Chris had forgotten all about it.

To be fair, the last forty-eight hours had been anything but normal. Beginning with Nathan Jackson’s attack, Vin Tanner’s suddenly prominent price on his head and Inez’s brutal rape, Chris had more to occupy his mind than just her birthday, still Mary could not help wishing that he could have at least given her one happy birthday.

Mary rolled in her sheets once more, trying to fluff up her pillow when suddenly; the stillness of the night air was shattered by the sound of breaking glass. She sat upright immediately, eyes wide and completely awake. Within a second of her awareness of the sound, she heard footsteps emanating from the next room, which Vin was currently occupying. Mary climbed out of bed and peered through the crack to see Vin moving in the corridor outside. He was carrying his gun and even though he was wearing trousers and a half opened shirt; it was obvious that the sudden intrusion had caught him by surprise.

His keen eyes caught the movement in the crack of the door and he turned to her. "Stay where you are." The mountain man instructed as the sounds below grew louder and thundered across the house and approached the step. Mary retreated into her room as Vin padded down the corridor to greet the interlopers when she suddenly remembered Inez. Throwing caution to the wind, Mary crossed the hallway and entered the room where Inez was sleeping. Judging from the sounds and voices below, the intruders numbered more than one and Vin was alone. Mary did not intend for them to be any more of a liability to him than they already were. He could get kill himself trying to protect them both and she knew him enough to know that he would risk his life without a second thought to do so.

Closing the door behind her, Mary tried to ignore the signs of impending violence in the voices that whispered faintly below. She heard her name being mentioned and knew that they had come for her. After everything else that had happened, Chris was right to believe that she required the protection. Mary sometimes, wondered why she even bothered doubting on such matters. He seemed to have the uncanny ability to predict the absolute worst in any situation.

Inez was still asleep, no doubt the effects of morphia dulling her usually acute senses to excitement taking place around her. As much as Mary hated rousing her from her slumber, there was little choice in the matter. Somehow, she had to get help. Mary hurried to the side of Inez’s bed and started shaking the Mexican to wake her.

"Inez!" Mary hissed. "Wake up!"

The quiet shuffling and whispering voices suddenly erupted into gunshots that shattered the night with its booming roar. Mary jumped at the sound and covered her ears as more shots rang out, followed by shouts and crashing objects. The ruckus did what Mary had yet been able to do, it broken the back of Inez’s fitful sleep. The woman’s eyes flew open and she sat up suddenly, her body covered in cold sweat as she awoke from one nightmare to another.

"What’s happening?" Inez demanded with obvious fear in her eyes.

"Someone’s in the house." Mary replied, her gaze darting to the door, half expecting someone to burst in. Suddenly the sounds shifted from gunfire to shuffling. She heard objects crashing against the floor and shattering. making such a terrible noise that Mary prayed for Vin’s safety and that half the town was privy to what was happening inside the walls of her home.

"We must get out of here." Inez whispered, straining to move out of bed, despite her broken arm.

Mary saw her flinch in pain as she attempted to move and thought quickly. They could not hope to escape the house with Inez in this condition but they had to get help, making a quick decision that Mary prayed was the correct one, she looked at Inez. "Get under the bed!" She said quickly and ran toward the door. Twisting the key in a full circle, Mary heard the locking mechanism fall into place. Of course, it would provide little resistance if they chose to break it down and Mary saw the dresser against the nearby wall.

"What are you doing?" Inez asked as the Mexican climbed out of bed with a great deal of effort. Her injury along with the morphine was making her movements sluggish even though the pain was dulled.

Using all her strength, Mary dragged the dresser across the floor, causing its legs to screech against the smooth surface. She paused midway to catch her breath, ever aware of the noises below that had not abated. Without a doubt, Mary knew that Vin Tanner was doing everything possible to keep their intruders from coming up here. Hopefully, he would not have to do it for long. It took one more concentrated effort before the dresser had slid across the doorway and would offer formidable resistance to anyone attempting to force entry.

"I’m going for help." Mary said as she hurried to the window and slid it open. "Stay put no matter what."

Inez nodded weakly, in no position to protest. She dropped to her knees and slid under the brass bed, hoping that the linen and bedding would hide her presence beneath it. Mary saw her disappear under the flow of lace trimming before she climbed through the open window. The gush of fresh air, immediately blew the curtains with its gentle breeze. If the unthinkable should happen and the men did break into this room, Mary hoped they would believe its occupants had escaped the open window.

Stepping onto the roof of her back porch, Mary hurried to the drainpipe running up the length of her house. It was not the best escape route in the world but it would be infinitely safer than trying to reach the ground by the stairs. While she had faith in Vin’s ability to defend himself, even she had to recognise that the odds were against his fighting off what she guessed was at least four men. As she reached the drainpipe, Mary told herself not to look down as she wrapped her fingers around the length of metal tubing that led to the ground.

It was not lost upon her that she seemed to have learnt how to make such escapes from her house in the dead of night since meeting Chris Larabee. The steel was smooth and Mary told herself to hang on no matter what, when she finally placed her weight upon it. Her descent was quick and Mary prepared herself to fall when she stepped off the room. Fortunately, the protruding wall clamps that slowed her journey at each encounter punctuated her sharp descent. When her feet finally touched the grass of her garden, Mary was left with little more than badly scratched hands.

By now, the commotion created by gunfire and breaking glass in the middle of the night had the effect of igniting lights all across the immediate vicinity. She heard a moan of pain as she ran under her parlour window and froze because she knew it had belonged to Vin. Mary remained hunched over in the darkness, terrified but listening closely at the violence carried out inside her home. For once the voices were no longer disjointed and vague, she could make words.

Forget the women, this could work better.

Take Tanner, there’s a two thousand-dollar reward on his hide!

Mary started to gasp at that but covered her mouth with her hand to keep the sound from giving her presence away. Poor Vin! Someone had to help him before these animals took him to Tascoma! She looked around frantically, hearing the approaching voices of help in the distance but knew they would not arrive soon enough. Mary had never felt so helpless in her life.

Mary remained where she was for a few minutes, listening in dreaded silence as the voices speaking decided to leave, taking Vin Tanner with them. She could hear their arguments becoming desperate as they wrestled with what to do in light of Vin’s unexpected presence in the house. Judging from the angry voices, the men had come for her and Vin’s attempt to thwart their kidnap attempt had only succeeded in allowing him to be caught.

Where’s your gunslinger friend now? Your reward will give Dawkins a good burying’.

She heard the litany of insults hurled at Vin as the men moved across the house towards the front door. The door swung hard against the wall as they left her home and she heard horses neighing in the dark. Mary felt her heart sink as she heard the sudden pounding of hooves against the dirt road, growing distant as the intruders made good their escape.

An escape that left Vin Tanner firmly in their clutches and on his way to a hangman’s noose.

**********

No more than half an hour had passed when Mary found herself standing before Ezra, Josiah and JD as they prepared to ride. More than anything, Mary wished Chris would be riding with them. His absence seemed to make Vin’s capture feel even worse than ever although they understood his reasons for going. The three men had arrived at Mary’s house shortly after the intruders had gone, finding the widow crouched in the darkness in the wake their flight. Mary had told the lawmen what had happened to Vin in the hopes that they could reach his captors before they got too far away.

"Mrs Travis I don’t advise you staying in your house tonight." Josiah said firmly, as he slid his shotgun into his saddle.

"With all of you gone," Mary said unhappily. "I really don’t think it will make that much difference where I stay the night."

Despite himself, Josiah had to agree with her assessment of the situation. With Nathan out of the equation while Chris and Buck were in Crescent Falls, they were seriously below numbers and could ill afford to leave anyone behind.

"I’ll stay behind." JD offered, knowing that he agreed with Josiah in disliking the idea of leaving Mary or Inez alone. Both women meant a great deal to him in different ways and JD could understand Josiah’s apprehension.

"Look," Alex spoke up. Ezra had sought her help a short time ago in light of this latest crisis. With Inez herself injured and their needing to leave Four Corners immediately, there was no one to tend to Nathan who far from being well enough to be alone. It was Alex herself who had stressed the necessity of Nathan requiring constant care and so she was more than willing to lend her assistance now that the need arose. "How about you and Inez taking a room in the saloon. Inez can make it here on her own two feet but there is no way Nathan is capable of movement. Maybe there’s some measure of safety in numbers."

"It’s better than nothing." Mary agreed with that as an option. "I have a shot gun I know how to use if anyone comes knocking."

"I do not like the idea of you having to defend yourself that way Madam." Ezra declared with as much distaste as the men saddling their horses, liked hearing it. However, they did feel better knowing she was armed.

"I’m sure I can stay." JD looked to them both, hoping that they would tell him he was right.

"You can’t stay." Mary stated before either Ezra or Josiah could. "They’ve already made one attempt at my life tonight, I don’t think they’ll be coming back until they’ve regrouped a bit. In the meantime, if Mr Tanner reaches anywhere in the municipality of Tascoma, they will hang him." With a deep breath, she placed an arm on his shoulder and squeezed it tight. "It is far more important that Mr Tanner is saved from this fate with your presence than you playing nursemaid to us." She gazed at the sunrise that was starting to make its eminent arrival in the distance. "Besides, it will be daylight soon. Chris and Buck will be back."

JD looked at her sceptically. He was young but he was not stupid. Mary had not expected the ruse to work but she needed to convince him to go. At the moment, it was not lost upon her that Vin had risked his life to save her and Inez, she was not prepared to let him hang, under any circumstances. Most of what she had made in her plea to JD was somewhat true. It would be sunrise in a few short hours and Chris had made no indication that he would be staying away for any length of time. As far as she knew, he was going to investigate Saul Willis, Wilkins, or whatever his name was, before coming straight back to Four Corners.

"We’ll be fine Mr Dunne." Alex added her voice to Mary’s argument and hoped it would convince the young man to go.

"All right," JD admitted reluctantly. As sheriff of Four Corners, he felt obligated to protect everyone, not just Vin Tanner but Mary Travis and Inez who meant so much to Buck and Chris. "I hope you’re right."

As JD turned back to this horse, Ezra approached Alex almost gingerly. He could not believe that in 48 hours, his life could become so askew by a beautiful face. Who was she that she could make him feel so completely vulnerable and sick with worry at the thought of any harm coming to her? He had seen Chris Larabee go through similar torment with Mary Travis on numerous occasions and felt a certain amount of amusement at the cool gunslinger’s expense. Was Fate punishing him now by visiting upon him the same kind of torture?

"You will be careful." He said staring at her critically, with enough edge in his voice to make that an order.

"Scouts honour." Alex made the familiar salute with her right hand.

"You were never a scout." He pointed out.

"You never had any honour." She reminded.

"Good point. I’ll see you when I get back." He grinned deciding that this was just another absurdity in an entire series that had plagued him since his arrival in Four Corners. It had almost been inevitable that he would find himself in this situation. Still, there were worse ways to spend time in torment.

"Be careful Mr Standish." Alex said seriously. "I can’t find anyone else with your hands for surgery if you get hurt."

Ezra looked at her as he mounted his horse. "Miss Styles, your confidence in me is overwhelming."

*******

ALICE SHELBY SULLIVAN

Born 1848

Died 1866

Forever loved by all whom knew her

Buck stared at the tomb stone for a long time in silence.

A caretaker was obviously employed by the parish to take care of these markers of marble and stone since Buck noticed an absence of weeds and other wildlife around the patch of earth where Alice Sullivan was laid to rest. In the dark, this place looked just as gloomy as when he had stood before this grave when it was freshly dug. In the daylight, a tall elm tree gave shade to the tombstone that eventually replaced the wooden cross, which had indicated Alice’s place in this cemetery.

Like all things, the cemetery had grown in size. Thirteen years had seen the arrival of many inductees and it offered Buck some comfort to know that she was not all alone in her final resting place He knew he was a coward because he should have returned long before this. However, the pain abated no less now that it had been when he first stood before this grave. Closing his eyes, he tried to force away images of sun streaked golden hair and laughing eyes telling him repeatedly that she loved him with all her heart. Buck had not realised how much he missed hearing her voice until he stopped being able to hear that.

Her father’s grave was not far from hers. Buck was able to do that much for Jebediah at least. The old man had never recovered from Alice’s death and with each day that followed, Buck knew he would join her soon enough. Alice was all that Jebediah valued in this life and with her passing, he had lost the only reason to continue living.

Chris was standing at the edge of the cemetery, allowing him his privacy in this most painful moment. Buck was aware that Chris had enough grief of his own to not want to partake in someone else’s. Besides, Buck had asked Chris to let him do this alone. Buck stood before Alice’s grave, saying farewells he had not been able to make during the funeral, talking to her as if they were still lying on the grass staring into the sky like they used to so long ago. She was his youth in all its golden sunshine and youthful abandon. When she died, she had taken that with him. After awhile, he came to realise that he was lucky to have known her at all and that notion alone allowed him to go on without her.

After what seemed an eternity of time, Buck turned his back and walked away from Alice Sullivan’s grave, vowing to come back even though he knew deep inside this place would not see him again. He continued walking back to Chris weaving through the cemetary with its macabre crop of protruding tones, indicating the lives ended, the hope gone. It was almost accidental that he came across what appeared to be a family plot enclosed in a low metal fence. Upon casual investigation as he walked past, Buck felt his stomach lurch as he discovered it to be the Westbrook family plot.

Whether it was some twisted fascination or some unspoken need to ensure that Damien was dead by seeing the tombstone for himself, Buck stepped into the arena of bodies. The largest of these monuments to the family who ruined so many lives belonged to James Westbrook. Resting at his side was Eloise, which was natural he supposed. All were ornate productions of angels and gargoyles that spoke volumes regarding the wealth of the dearly departed. The Westbrook boys were before their parents, with almost identical tombstones except for the inscription. With a breath he had not realised was held, Buck exhaled loudly when he saw Damien’s.

There was one other grave present, which was placed to the corner of the plot. Buck deduced this to belong to the Westbrook in-law, whoever he might have been. Out of curiosity, Buck walked towards the marble headstone for a closer look. The inscription he read made his blood turn cold.

"Oh Jesus!" He whispered as awareness entered his mind a split second before Buck started running to find Chris.

END OF PART FIVE

Part Six

THE SYMPHONY OF FIRE

Vin Tanner was in trouble.

He had been in trouble before and sure enough, this was how it felt. Although he had yet to decide how much trouble he was in, his preliminary findings were leaning towards pretty bad. Actually, in all honesty, he had to admit to finding himself in worse circumstances before this current situation. However, for some unknown reason, none of those circumstances would come to mind at present. It probably had to do with his aching head, a result of his hand to hand with one of Mrs Travis’ intruders. At this moment, he would give almost anything for a drink if it would dull the throbbing pain on the back of his head. Vin could not even examine the injury because both his hands were tied behind his back.

He wondered which was worse; the fact that he was going back to Tascoma to hang or that he would be delivered by four pathetic drunks who had the fever of two thousand dollars in their eyes. No doubt, his once glowing reputation as a professional bounty hunter was going to take a severe re-evaluation. Normally, he would have been able to keep himself from this embarrassing situation despite there being four of them. However, they were never interested in him to start with and were hell bent on getting their hands on Mrs Travis. Vin could have held them off if he was not so preoccupied from keeping them from the upper floors where Mrs Tavis and Inez were hiding. All it took was a momentary lapse and one of them had managed to sneak up behind him and deliver a halting blow.

Their decision to take him instead arose out of the apparent failure to reach Mrs Travis for their master, the yet to revealed Mr Wilkins or Willis, whatever his name was. Vin detected fear in their eyes when they realised that the commotion of gunfire and breaking glass had awoke half the town to their nocturnal intrusion. The bounty on his head was apparently the consolation prize for not kidnapping Mary Travis.

Vin’s own consolation was in knowing that somewhere in the darkness behind them, his friends would be coming for him as surely as the sun rising in the horizon ahead. The question was how would he delay them until the others could catch up with them. Now, they were riding hard and fast away from Four Corners. In that much, these men were not utterly incompetent. They knew that Vin Tanner had friends who would stop at nothing to retrieve him and while they could not know Chris Larabee would not be among the seven, their fear of him kept up their pace.

The men who had inadvertently captured him were the same men who had tried to liberate him after he; Chris and JD had left the Indian village. Apparently, Chris’ warnings had fallen on deaf ears and this men who were obviously unaccustomed for this kind of work, with their stinking whisky breath, their unsteady hands and beer gut threatening to spill over their belts. He had listened to their conversation as much as he could, despite the rushing wind and the thunder of footsteps to know that someone had put them up to kidnapping Mrs Travis.

Vin took stock of where he was, knowing that they were not very far from Four Corners. Instead of taking a more shaded route where there was a chance to hide in the bushland, the four had chosen to take the easiest and most direct path towards Tascoma. On the face of it, the plan was not a bad one. Once they reached Tascoma and unloaded him at the jailhouse, the seven would have larger concerns that taking revenge on the men who had turned him in. However, for Vin’s purposes, the idea could prove to be fatal for all of them.

They had been riding across the plains, covered with knee high grass browned by the summer heat. There were trees but not many and made the chances of visibility high for some distance. If Josiah and the others were on their way, it would not be long before they would come riding over the crest. Nevertheless, Vin saw the tree belt not far away and knew that once under the cover of the thick scrub, he had skill enough to even the odds significantly. The only problem in this plan of his was actually getting this caravan of horses to stop and judging by the frantic way they were proceeding, it seemed unlikely.

Well there was one way.

Vin could think of no other way to separate from them even if the risk to himself was extreme. He had known men who had broken their necks this way and even then; they had the use of both hands. Still, if one weighed the consequence of his actually arriving in Tascoma to hang, he would rather get it over and done here than in front of an audience with a low cost burial on Boot Hill. Vin waited until the entourage reached the closet point to the tree belt. His captors were so intent on getting to Tascoma with their hide intact, they were paying very little attention to him. Probably because they did not think, he would be stupid enough to make such a hazardous attempt to escape.

Vin was placed on the horse trailing the group because one of the other riders was leading his mount. Apparently, they did not trust him enough to allow him control of a horse. He watched them thunder ahead, keeping a close eye on the fast approaching tree belt. Occasionally, their leader, the man whom Chris had warned to return to Purgatory had looked over his shoulder to see if he was still with them. Vin had kept a vigil on these instances, noting that the length between each inspection was widening. He waited until the man, whose name was Glassop, cast another routine gaze over his shoulder, sneering at him with his rotten teeth when their eyes made contact briefly.

Vin let a few more seconds past after Glassop had faced front again before unhooking his feet from the stirrups of the saddle. Once his feet were free, Vin had to fight to remain seated, as he started bouncing about unsteadily. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself as much as possible before throwing his leg over the animal and feeling the rest of him roll over just as precariously. Vin hit the ground with his shoulder and felt something snap almost immediately. He did not stop rolling for a few more seconds and the dawn become a blur of colour before he finally stopped.

The first time he was aware of, beside the flaring pain in his shoulder was the cries of the men who discovered his escape. Vin scrambled to his feet and started running as fast as he could. Although sunrise was eminent, there was still enough dark left to aid his escape if he could make it to the trees. Vin did not look back. There was no need to. Even as he made his desperate dash for freedom, he could hear the horses coming to a halt as the direction of the hoof beats changed abruptly. The voices were crying for him to stop and he expected the bullets would soon follow.

No sooner, than the thought has crossed his mind, he heard the eruption of gunfire. None of the men had looked like very good shots but Vin hoped there was still enough distance between them to outrange their weapons, just in case. His feet hurt the blades of dry grass but Vin was beyond caring. He had barely time to get dressed and grab his gun after hearing the first sounds of entry emanating from Mrs Travis’ parlour. A bullet whizzed past his ear and answered any remaining doubt as to whether or not he was out of weapon’s range. He began weaving as he ran; hoping the erratic movement would confuse their ability to target him. It was a grab at straws, he knew but the tree line was only a matter of feet away and he could not afford to be shot now.

They were closing in on him rapidly when Vin reached the cover of the first row of trees that thickened the deeper into the scrub he went. Things began to stab at the soles of his feet and for the first time, Vin allowed himself a moment to look over his shoulder. The horses sounded close and when he glanced over his shoulder, he learnt just how close they were. He had less than a minute before they would reach him, trees or not. He could not keep going because as adept as he was with the land, he did not know this terrain and was not about to gamble on with life on what may be. He almost tripped over a log that had been covered by grass and moss to such an extent that it was almost invisible in the thicket. Realising the opportunity, Vin paused long enough to find its hollow entry before crawling into it. He managed to fit inside its narrow confines with just enough room to spare. It was not the best of hiding places but it would serve to hide for the moment and give him time to recoup.

Vin held his breath as the horses thundered forward. He could see their rapid advance through a knot of curled wood that allowed a crack of the outside world. The men were staring ahead and did not look as if they intended to stop. He froze as the hooves pounded towards him and felt the ground rumble as the animals leapt over the obstruction without missing a beat or giving it any thought. Vin did not dare move although he could hear the horses continuing onward, the sound of their hoof beat, fading into the distance.

Vin let the silence continue for a few seconds more before he finally decided to move. His pursuers were not stupid. At some point in the chase, they would realise that he was not ahead of them and back track. That narrow margin of time was all Vin Tanner had to formulate some kind of a plan. Despite himself, he hoped Josiah, Ezra and JD were on the way because without a gun or a knife, he felt damn vulnerable.

Which brought him back to his original assessment of this entire episode.

He was in trouble.

He had been in trouble before and sure enough, this was how it felt….

*******

On other side of Four Corners, Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington were engaged in similar thoughts as they raced back to town after a hasty departure from Crescent Falls. In light of Buck’s discovery in the cemetery, there was hardly time to loose, if they were not already too late. As Chris tried to focus on reaching town, he forced away his fears for Mary’s welfare and wondered how he could have placed her life in such danger for so long, without even being aware of its existence.

"Chris we have to stop and let the horses rest." Buck implored, knowing just worried Chris was. However, both their horses had been travelling for most of the night. If they did not break the journey by allowing the horses to rest and get watered, the animals would surely collapse from the exhaustion and neither of would reach Four Corners in time.

"No." Chris retorted, unable to fathom such a delay as he dug his spurs into his horse and was rewarded with a strained grunt. With a sinking feeling, he could feel the animal desperately trying to keep up with his pace and knew that that it would not. In fact, they needed to stop and soon.

"Chris!" Buck cried out again, matching his horse pace for pace. "We have to ease up now!"

"Damn it!" Chris swore as he pulled the reins abruptly and the horse came to a near screeching halt, kicking its hooves at the sharp pull of the bit in its mouth. Buck repeated the manoeuvre and soon both animals were at stand still. Both animals were breathing in loud, laboured breaths.

Buck had wanted to stop here because he had caught sight of a narrow creek that had enough volume to provide their mounts with enough water. For the pace the animals had been keeping because of the urgent need to return home, Buck knew they required quite a bit. Chris was not happy to stop and Buck could see him fuming even as he dismounted his horse and led it to the edge of the water. However, even Chris had to acknowledge their limitations. Pushing the horses would only injure the animals and keep them from reaching Four Corners at all.

"I should have know that there was something strange about that whole outfit." Chris muttered under his breath.

"How?" Buck retorted sarcastically, never having patience with his friend when he was like this. "It was an Emporium, hell I didn’t think there was anything strange about one going up in town."

"Why would anyone want to set up in a place like Four Corners?" Chris countered. "It’s barely livable now! Why set up a business in a town where there are gunfighters and shoot outs and god knows what else!"

Buck rolled his eyes knowing when Chris was starting to panic. "Chris!" Buck shouted. "You gotta calm down or you’re not going to be any use to her!"

The words felt like lashes against his skin and Chris knew Buck was right. He was panicking and that was not a good state to be in when there was so much at stake. Mary needed him alert and in control, not like this! Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Chris Larabee forced away the turmoil of emotions into that place where they could do little harm. As he felt the emotion subside inside him, he began to feel the detachment return with welcoming relief. He was back now. He had been gone for a time there but now he was back and focussed.

"Okay," he said facing Buck a great deal calmer. "Let’s think this through. They came to town, set up residence and got people to trust them."

"Opening up a business like an Emporium is likely to do it. The women in town have been absolutely thrilled since the doors open." Buck agreed, watching his horse drink water from the creek in hungry gulps.

"Meanwhile," Chris continued without ever sounding like he had been at the raw edge of panic only a short time ago. "They watch me and you closely and get to know the others we ride with. Getting to Nathan is easy as we already guessed, he’s black and other than us, no one really cares what happens to him, even if he is a healer."

"A few might." Buck protested disliking the idea that it would be so easy for Four Corners to shrug off Nathan's death after everything he had done for the community. "But not enough." He had to agree begrudgingly.

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "Him, they shoot because they can. Vin on the other hand, has a death mark on his head. No one would be willing to go against the seven of us for just $500 but $2000? That's different. They figured offering the reward money would send enough hired killers to Four Corners to collect. Maybe it would cause enough trouble that the town itself might want Vin to leave."

It was a plausible deduction Buck decided. Small towns had a way of making a bout face when their personal safety was threatened. While they may enjoy the peace that the seven men brought to Four Corners, the majority of the town viewed the seven with some trepidation. If Vin’s bounty were to create the kind of danger that Chris believed, Buck did not doubt that there would a town meeting and a quick decision to drive the mountain man out of town. "So once this is over, we get Orrin Travis to pull some strings at Tascoma and let them know that the bounty is back to $500."

"I’d say we have to prove that there is no reward to collect." Chris retorted and then phrased what he had to say next with a little more tact. "Getting back at you was easy as we both know."

"Inez." Buck nodded not requiring Chris to say it out loud. "After Alice, they knew that would drive me crazy. Killing her would just make me mad but leaving her alive, where I would be reminded every day of what happened to her. It takes a special kind of genius to feel that much hate."

"Well they’ve had a long time to plan it Buck." He answered softly, remembering the haunting words of Damien Westbrook that had echoed in his mind ever since the name Saul Willis had been mentioned. Until the visit to the cemetery, everything had been speculation. He knew he was grasping at straws when he connected Mary’s description of the unseen Mr Wilkins with Saul Willis. When Inez was raped, it had felt like the past had caught up with him that made some of it bring forward some unlikely suspects. He and Buck had ridden to Crescent Falls more out of a need to eliminate the possibility than actually believing Willis could be behind their present troubles after all these years.

"Which brings us to you." Buck declared finally.

Chris turned away, staring at the stream of water meandering past him. "That’s easy." He said without even needing to consider the question in any depth. There was only one thing that could hurt him more than anything else in the world. "Mary."

"Mary." Buck nodded without any disagreement. She was Chris Larabee’s Achilles heel. Even if there were nothing between them, it would have still been the case. Chris had been risking his life for the widow ever since he arrived in Four Corners. Buck had lost count of just how many times Chris had gone riding off to her rescue. That alone convinced the resident of Four Corners just how much he regarded Mary Travis. Suddenly, another thought entered Buck’s mind. "You know Mary said it was the Kendall woman who brought the news of those rumours to her. What if it was Willis who was doing the spreading?"

Despite keeping a tight control over his emotions after his earlier display, Buck spied an involuntary tightening of Chris’ jaw as that subject was brought up. "It doesn’t matter." Chris said coolly. "Everyone still knows about us."

"What do they know?" Buck countered. "If we can prove that Willis has a personal vendetta against you to everyone, why wouldn’t they believe that he was slandering Mary to get to you?"

"That would still imply she means something to me." He retorted.

"True," Buck conceded, not bothering to deny that point. "But there’s a hell of a difference between her meaning something to you than you sleeping with her, isn’t there? Enough to prove that her good name and keep her reputation in the community."

Buck was right, Chris found himself realising. There was a huge gulf between him caring for Mary and Mary conducting an improper relationship with him.

Buck waited for Chris to respond to that but the gunslinger remained silent but he guessed correctly that Chris was considering his words carefully. Mary’s reputation and her standing in the community meant more to him than his own life. He was proud of what she was able to do although he did not always agree with her stubborn need for independence. She was spirited and her will was indomitable. Chris did not want to see her name dragged through the mud because some enemy from his buried past.

"Come on," he turned to Buck. "We better get going."

********

There was not a lot of dusk left as Mary and Alex sat in the saloon over a pot of coffee. After the night’s excitement, neither found they were able to sleep and spent most of the night talking at the table normally occupied by the seven. Inez was asleep in her room upstairs and Nathan was similarly indisposed. Mary was pleased that at least some of them were able to rest. The shotgun that normally resided in her office was propped up against the table in anticipation of any new danger. Although Mary and Alex and had not spoken about the seven who absence at the table was profoundly felt, the men were never far from their thoughts.

"It’s almost dawn." Mary sighed, peering out the bat wing doors at the veil of amber trailing the indigo coloured sky. "I wonder if they’ve caught up with Vin?" Her blue grey eyes surveyed the scene outside the door and it was hard to imagine that there could exist such violent amongst such peace.

Alex shrugged, unable to answer that question. Her own thoughts were not far removed from that of the editor of the Clarion News. Despite her determination not to worry needlessly, she found herself concerned about how Ezra Standish and his friends were faring. After being on her own for so long, it was a new experience to be sitting around worrying about so many people. Until his death, Alex's world had included only herself and her father. Now it was only her and she found herself caring about a whole slew of people, the least of which was a smooth talking con man and gambler with a tendency to sound like a dictionary.

Life could be very strange.

"I don’t know." Alex mused, not really wanting to imagine what the men were up to at this point. She did not know how she could maintain her professional cool if she had to put Ezra together. "This town is more than I bargained for." She found herself confessing instead.

Mary did not show her smile that stole across her face at Alex Styles remark but after a moment, she stepped away from the doors and returned to the table wearing an expression of complete understanding. "It sneaks up on you." Mary replied, sitting down at the table again. "I never thought I’d get used to living in a place like this."

Memories of her first days in Four Corners flashed through her mind as she recalled those distant times. "When I first got here, I hated it. I thought Steven and I had gone mad to leave Boston for this place. I couldn’t keep the dust off anything, everyone thought I spoke too much for a woman and no matter what I did, I couldn’t make jam to save my life." She laughed remembering how Steven would hold her in his arms while telling her with utmost confidence that he believed in her. He had been certain that she would have something to contribute to their life here. He always had faith in her, no matter how disillusioned she became. In that way, Chris Larabee and Steven Travis were very much a like, except Chris had more faith in her than he had in himself.

"Then one day, I’m sitting out my porch and it’s a warm summer evening. Steven was gone by this point and Billy was with his grandparents. I had lived here for almost eight years with hardly any awareness that so much time had gone by. I was staring at the sunset when I realised that I would never see one like it in Boston. Its quite something you know," Mary spoke with a fondness in her voice that revealed her deep affection for the town. "The first time you’re settled enough in a place to enjoy the quiet and hear the crickets making their noises while the birds sing far above your head. That’s when I knew Four Corners was my home."

"I never had a place to call home." Alex admitted with a faint smile. "I didn’t mind really because that was the way things were. My father was a doctor and he had this dream to write a book about world medicine. We went half way across the world, interviewing recognised practitioners, medicine men, witch doctors, soothsayers and Chinese acupuncturists. I could speak a dozen languages by the time I was fifteen and had most of what he compiled is in my head somewhere. He wanted me to be a doctor and I wanted to share dream with him bad enough to go to medical school." Alex swallowed feeling an aching loss in her heart for the man. It was almost a two years since his death and while she had become used to him being gone, Alex still missed him dearly.

"Did he write his book?" Mary asked fascinated by the prospect of such a globetrotting endeavour. She was almost envious at some of the things Alex had no doubt seen in her travels.

"No," She shook her head sadly. "He was a wonderful doctor but not much of a writer. Most of his notes are in one of the trunks I have yet to unpack."

"You miss him a great deal don’t you?" Mary said sympathetically, understanding the pained look in her eyes all too well.

"I do." Alex confessed without embarrassment. "But you know something, I didn’t realise how displaced I was until after he died. When we were moving around from place to place, there was never any chance to discover how much our lives were devoid of people. We never were stayed anywhere long enough to make friends or attachments. Even when I went to medical school, I was a bit of pariah because I was a woman."

"I can understand that." Mary retorted exactly what it was like to be underestimated or excluded simply because of gender. "Being a newspaper woman can be almost as discriminating."

"The funny thing about Four Corners is that I’ve been allowed to practise more medicine in the past two days on my own, without some man hovering around me to make certain I made no mistakes, then I have since leaving medical school!" She exclaimed with a look of wonder on her face at how this small town in the middle of the infamous Wild West could fulfil so many unspoken dreams. "I just cannot believe it."

Mary was about to answer when suddenly; she saw a figure approach the bat wing doors. Instinctively, she reached for the shotgun and stood up noisily as she took aim. Her finger tightened around the trigger prepared for anything while Alex took up position behind her. The doctor did not want to be anywhere near that weapon when it discharged. However, when the doors swung open, Mary and Alex found themselves staring at Victoria Kendall who staring down the double barrel with a mixture of surprise and shock.

"Victoria!" Mary exclaimed, lowering the weapon immediately.

The owner of the Emporium was visibly shaken and stammered a reply and did not relax until Mary had removed her from the weapon’s sight. "I heard the excitement at your home earlier and I felt compelled to see if you were alright." She replied moving deeper into the saloon, now that she was confident that the danger had passed. Victoria was dressed in riding clothes and Mary had no idea she was such an early riser. Then again, a great deal remained a mystery about Victoria Kendall.

"I’m fine." Mary reported, grateful that she had not pulled the trigger in haste. She dreaded to think what would happened if she had actually fired. With her reputation already in tatters because of her illicit affair with Chris Larabee, it would be the height of scandal to be labelled a murderess as well. At the very least, the Clarion’s circulation could drop sharply, Mary thought absurdly. "You should not have troubled yourself Victoria," Mary said putting the gun down on the table as she went to greet the woman. "Especially at this hour."

"Nonsense," Victoria smiled amiably. "I often go riding early in the morning. Besides, I had to know you were. We are after all friends."

Although she was touched by the woman’s concern, Mary hardly considered them friends, more like acquaintances. They had barely spoken to each other a dozen times since Victoria Kendall’s arrival in Four Corners. However, Mary was never one to turn down and overture of friendship. She did wonder however, if Victoria was aware of Mr Wilkins’ terrible past and considered enlightening her on that subject.

However, judging by the sallow look of her, Mary wondered if Victoria had guessed her associate’s part in the drama that had been playing for most of the night, and on a larger scale during the past 48 hours. Mary crossed the floor of the saloon to meet Victoria’s outstretched when suddenly, the woman grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward before she had any idea what was happening. The action caught her by such surprise that Mary was unable to respond until he felt an arm enclose around her throat.

She saw Alex reacting almost instantly. The doctor made a desperate bid for the gun on the table as she jumped to her feet and reached across the table for the weapon. The chair she had been occupying fell backward and made a loud bang against the wooden floor on impact. Unfortunately, Mary was soon aware of the decidedly loud click of a gun bolt in her ear.

"I wouldn’t." Victoria warned coldly, pressing the barrel of a pearl handled pistol hard against Mary’s forehead just to illustrate the point.

Alex swore under her breath and slid back from the table, realising that she was too late to help either Mary or herself for that matter. Mary could see the rising anger in her face as Alex withdrew her advance, feeling terribly helpless as she met Mary’s frightened gaze.

"That’s it," Victoria goaded as Alex returned to her original position near the fallen chair. "Nice and slow."

"Victoria, what is this all about!" Mary demanded furiously, trying to break the chokehold on her throat. Her struggle only prompted Victoria to shove the cold steel deeper into her skin forcing Mary winced in pain. Part of her felt incredibly stupid for walking straight into this dangerous situation. There were times Mary wished that she would take stock of Chris’ warning that not everyone out to be given the benefit of the doubt. With Victoria’s connection to Saul Willis, it was the height of gullibility for Mary to assume that she was not involved in his crimes.

"Shut up!" The woman hissed sharply. Victoria glared at Alex and then took a tentative step backwards, moving towards the doors. Trapped in her strong grip, Mary could do little to resist with Victoria’s forearm digging into her throat. She already finding it a little difficult to breathe and Victoria’s grip seem to tighten as they moved backwards. Mary had no illusions that Victoria would drag her if necessary. When the woman reached the bat wing doors, she called out into the night.

"You can come in now Saul, its clear."

Alex contemplated going for the shotgun during this brief distraction but abandoned the idea when she saw the appearance of the big man that stepped through the door. Judging by his bulk and size, Alex did not doubt he could overpower her easily without breaking a sweat. If first impressions were anything to go by, then Alex was of the firm conclusion that she did not want this man angry with her. Despite the fact that he was wearing a dark brown suit and a tanned duster, the sinister glint in his eyes negated any trace of civilisation in his demeanour.

Without even knowing it, Alex knew this man was a killer.

He stared at her for a moment with a hard expression and instinctively, Alex knew that he was following her gaze to the shotgun and was completely aware of her intention to retrieve the weapon. He dropped his hand to the gun belt around his waist and watched him graze the butt of his gun with the tip of his fingers, a clear enough indication of the consequences should she make the attempt. He flashed a small smile and then shook his head as if to reinforce the warning.

He need not have bothered Alex decided she would not risk it and abandoned the idea.

"Get the shot gun Saul." Victoria instructed immediately. He looked almost ready to snap to attention at her orders, stepped forward without question, and liberated the shotgun from its resting-place. As he slipped the weapon under his arm, effectively robbing Alex and Mary of any chance at escape, it did answer the question of who was in charge here.

Once she was assured that herself and her companion were the only ones armed, Victoria released Mary by shoving her forward. Mary staggered forward before dropping to her knees, her hands clutching her sore throat as she hit the wooden floor. Without thinking, Alex ran forward immediately, her healer’s instincts taking precedence before any thoughts of her personal safety. The prolonged grip around Mary’s throat had turned the widow a shade pale and Alex cause for concern.

Both Victoria and Saul stared at both women dispassionately, with weapons pointed.

"What do you want?" Alex asked because Mary could not. The widow was still on the floor recovering as Alex helped her to her feet.

"I had not meant to make you apart of this little drama." Victoria retorted with staring at Alex with unconcealed hatred. "You’re just a half breed passing through town, not at all of any concern to me."

"How disappointing." Alex retorted, not about to give this woman the satisfaction of reacting to her vicious remark about her parentage. "I am going to feel left out."

Victoria’s eyes narrowed as she was robbed of the provoked response she had desired. "However, after the way that bastard Standish spoke to me, I think I will include you after all. If only, just to displease him. Perhaps I will give you to Saul the way I gave him the Spic to play with."

Alex felt her stomach hollow in disgust when she realised Victoria Kendall’s crude reference to Inez. Immediately she glared at the man who was wearing a greedy look of desire as his eyes moved over the length and breath of her body. "You’re going to have do a lot better than that to scare me, Mrs Kendall." She replied defiantly. Insults had very little power over Alex.

"How could you!" Mary found her voice at hearing that. "How could you do that to another woman? How could you hurt Inez that way?"

"Not I," Victoria said triumphantly enjoying Mary’s outrage at least. "Saul and some of his friends. I believe you almost met some of them this evening."

The men who had taken Vin, Mary realised. "Why are you doing this?" She demanded. "Him, I understand but you?"

"My reasons are not for your hearing, Mary." Victoria retorted. "All you are is the instrument of my revenge. The worm need not know the fisherman’s reason for the catch."

"I’ll die before I let you use me as bait for Chris." Mary spat angrily at her.

"Bait?" Victoria turned to Saul and they both started laughing, giving both Mary and Alex the ominous feeling that their situation was declining rapidly unless help came very soon.

"Is that what you think?" Victoria turned her vengeful gaze on Mary. "I don’t want Chris Larabee dead. I want him alive. What good is killing him? I want him to suffer every day of the rest of his miserable life knowing that everything he cared about has gone up in flames. I did not have the fortune to deal with him before his wife and son was killed. I would have liked to be responsible for that but you, my dear Mary, who is his whore. You will do just as nicely."

Mary cringed at those words knowing that if Chris discovered he had come too late to save her life, he would blame himself for the rest of his days. The possibility of him living his life burdened by such guilt was more terrifying to Mary then the dying itself. The pain would be brief for her but eternal for him.

"Why?" Mary found herself with nothing left to say but that one thing. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because she’s related to Damien Westbrook." Alex answered before Victoria could. Suddenly, Chris Larabee’s story had come to her in a flash of insight. He had taken Damien Westbrook at Christmas, which usually meant the entire family had to be present. Westbrook’s family would have had to know who had taken him in to hang.

Mary’s eyes filled with understanding upon that realisation. "Of course." She said almost calmly. "That’s why you want Chris to suffer, because you suffered. Is that it?" Her voice filled with pity.

"You don’t know anything!" Victoria stepped forward abruptly and struck Mary across the jaw, with the gun in her hand. Mary hit the ground, feeling a haze of red descending over her as she felt the pain of a dislocated jaw.

"Do you know what he did!" Victoria snarled, almost frenzied in her rage. "He killed them all! Your precious Chris Larabee! He murdered my father and my two brothers and then he got his forty pieces of silver when he sent Damien, my baby brother to hang!"

Mary wanted to respond but she could not. She could feel blood filling her mouth and Alex on her knees beside her, trying to examine the damage. Despite the pain, she refused to believe what Victoria was saying. Whatever Chris Larabee was capable of, Mary knew he was not a cold-blooded murderer.

"Don’t try to talk," Alex said ignoring the ravings of Victoria Kendall while she tried to do something for Mary. "I think your jaw might be broken." The discolouration was quickly spreading across her creamy skin in tendril of indigo and red.

"That’s enough!" Victoria grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled her away from Mary, shoving her aside. "It doesn’t matter what’s broken!" She said viciously, motioning Saul forward. The big man came forward and hauled Mary off the floor roughly while Victoria used her gun to prompt Alex to her feet.

Mary let out a grunt of pain as she felt her jaw starting to swell and the pressure building up against the side of her mouth. As she looked into Victoria’s eyes, Mary knew without doubt the woman was insane and she met Alex’s worried gaze, it was obvious that the doctor knew it too.

*******

With daylight fast approaching, Vin Tanner was aware that it would also see the end of any advantage he would have over his captors. As expected, it did not take long for the men to realise that he had tricked them and begin backtracking. Vin had squeezed out of his narrow hiding place, trying to think of a plan that would allow Josiah and the others the time to reach him before the men recaptured him.

Running in the opposite direction from where the horses were heading, Vin began widening the distance between him and the riders. He did not want to risk coming out into the open where he could be seen easily. However, did bring forward another dilemma. How would Josiah know to come this way instead of continuing onwards to Tascoma?

Suddenly, he heard the rustling of leaves and branches behind him and realised that a horse was coming in his direction. Vin thought quickly, finding no place he could hide despite the density of the flora around him. His eyes found a strong length of branch running above the trail the horse would surely follow and came up with a desperate idea. Finding the tree it originated from; Vin scaled the tree as quickly as he could, ever aware of the approaching hoof beats closing in on him. The bark dug into his bare feet and Vin wished more than ever that he had bothered to put his shoes on.

As it neared, Vin was able to identify only one rider coming his way and that simplified matters a great deal. He reached the branch in question, just as the horse ran across the track beneath him. Vin remained poised until the time was right and then let himself fall over the edge. He dropped squarely onto the rider, sending them both crashing to the ground. The horse stumbled by the sudden displacement of its owner before recovering enough to take off.

The man on the ground was momentarily dazed but Vin did not give him a chance to recover to pose any threat. He could already see the man’s fingers moving towards the gun in his holster. Throwing his fists forward, he felt knuckle connect with bone as he struck jaw. The man fell backwards with little resistance and Vin jumped on top of him, pummelling him with blows until he no longer moved. When it was apparent that there was no fight left to subdue, Vin liberated him of his gun and ammunition. The tracker would have preferred to have the man’s horse but he was grateful that he was now armed at least.

"Andrews!" Vin heard a voice call out in the distance. "Where hell are ya!"

Vin immediately bolted for the cover of some bushes as he heard the approach of another horse. Somehow, he did not think the same trick would work twice however he took cover behind a nearby tree to decide his next move. Holding his breath, his eyes searched for a place to run, knowing that if they saw him, they would wear him down like a pack of wolves running a dear to exhaustion. Hidden behind the tree, he saw another rider break through the thick wood to investigate the whereabouts of his comrade. He recognised this man as the one who had given him the deep gash on the back of his skull and the one to whom Chris had made his warning the day before. While Vin was confident he could take the man in unarmed combat, the time do so was something Vin did not have in abundance.

Aiming carefully, he waited for a clear shot and aimed for the man’s arm. He fought the impulse of shooting to kill even if society required the favour. Nevertheless, Vin did not want to provoke the others. The bounty on his head was non-specific how he should be delivered to Tascoma. These men would lose nothing by choosing to kill him if he caused them enough trouble. Vin pulled the trigger and shattered the silence of the morning air by sending a bullet through the man’s shoulder. His would be hunter uttered a short cry of pain before falling off his saddle and onto the ground.

Vin did not wait around to see how he was, hurrying towards the horse before it could bolt as the other had done. Grabbing the reins, he cast an obligatory glance at the wounded man, seeing the angry red stain of blood expanding from his injured shoulder. Vin was a good enough sharpshooter to inflict worse had he desired and wondered if the man knew how fortunate he was that Vin had not chosen otherwise. It took a few seconds for the mountain man to settle the animal, since it had been badly frightened by the sound of gunfire.

He knew the others in the hunt would not be far behind now that they had heard the gunshot. He mounted the animal to vacate the area as quickly as possible. Nestling himself comfortably into the saddle, Vin kicked in his heels and grimaced at the feel of the hard metal stirrups against his bare feet. The mare broke into a gallop just as he began to hear the rapid approach of the injured man’s companions. He drove the palomino at full gallop, keeping his head low in expectation of the inevitable gunfire that would follow. There was only a narrow lead between them and Vin was painfully aware of how far away Four Corners was. While he hoped Josiah and the others were coming after him, Vin knew better than to rely on them until he actually knew that.

He glimpsed over his shoulder and saw the other men arrive. They were leading the horse that had escaped him earlier. The injured man was on his feet by now and shouting orders to the others as he climbed onto the saddle. Very soon, the three were riding hard after Vin in pursuit. Deciding his only hope was to keep ahead of them, Vin renewed his efforts to widen the distance between them. Digging his heels into the mare’s sides, he heard the sound of gunfire erupt in the still quiet of dawn when he broke through the tree line and returned once more to the open plains.

Despite the air rushing past him, Vin could hear their hoof beats thundering loudly behind him as the bullets flew by. He returned fire of his own and made every shot count as he had only a limited amount of ammunition left to him and it was a long ride back to Four Corners. Although he feared injury, he feared losing his horse to the bullets meant for him even more. The mare was all that stood between him and the men who drag him back to Tascoma dead or alive. Judging by their efforts to shoot him down, it was more or less a foregone conclusion that they had opted on the former. Vin disliked driving any animal to such a state of exhaustion but at this point, he had little choice for both their sakes.

Slowly, the horse begin to make some headway, descending the crest of plain before them with enough speed to leave the bounty hunters further behind. Vin glanced over his shoulder one final time when suddenly, he became aware that one of them taking aim at him with a rifle…

Vin had honestly believed that none of those men capable of making the shot. Whether or not it was attributed to skill or blind luck, the discharged bullet slammed into his chest with such force that he barely had time to cry out. Despite the expanding core of agony that swept him up in exquisite waves, Vin managed to stay on his horse, however the damage was done. A brief glance at the wound saw his shirt becoming saturated with blood. He could feel its slick wetness running down his sides and down his stomach. Each gallop forward forced a groan past his gritted teeth.

Vin knew he was having difficulty controlling the mare when reins threatened to slip past his weakened grip. He knew the injury would cost him dearly and he did not need to look over his shoulder to know that they were gaining on all the distance he had placed between them earlier. Vin was not prepared to die but faced the possibility as he faced everything in his life, with unflappable calm. He wished he could disconnect things the way Chris did and force it some place where it would not harm him. However, Vin Tanner was not Chris Larabee and the pain coursing through him would not be willed away, however much resolve he possessed.

"Okay," he whispered to himself. "If that’s the way its gotta be, so be it."

He could accept dying but he was not going out alone.

On the face of it, the threat probably sounded melodramatic and somewhat idle since he was in little shape to take on three men, armed or not. Nevertheless, by the time he was through with his pursuers, they were going to have an abject less on the real value of two thousand dollars.

Somehow, without his guidance, the mare had made it across the next field although the gunmen were bearing down on him rapidly. Coming to a firm decision, Vin decided he was not going to play a game of cat and mouse with these men. He was going to end this thing right now. Pulling the reins up abruptly with whatever strength was left to him, Vin was almost thrown off palomino went it bucked on to its hind legs at the action. The mare neighed angrily as the bit dug into its mouth, protesting further as Vin made the animal turn around to face the oncoming riders.

With considerable difficulty, Vin loaded all the remaining bullets he had into the chamber of his gun and raised his arm to fire. He felt no fear at the possibility of dying. A man could die any time but not many could choose the way in which they would go. He decided that he was going to have that much at least. He raised his arm and placed the enemy in his sights.

With almost serene calm, Vin Tanner pulled the cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet discharged from the weapon knocked one man’s hat off his head. Vin saw the rabid gleam of greed in his eyes suddenly whither into a new emotion, fear. Without drawing a second breath, he pulled the trigger again and this time, there was no close shave. The bullet smashed into the man’s naked forehead. From that range, it did not make a spectacular exit as Chris Larabee had done for their companion Dawkins. However, Vin felt some satisfaction at seeing him a spot of red flare into a thick rivulet of blood that ran down his face an instant before he fell from the horse and disappeared into stalks of sunburnt grass. Although the other men were reaching point blank range, Vin did not allow that factor to cloud his measured calm.

It would not be long now, Vin decided, before one of their bullets found its way home and finished the grisly work partially begun.

Choosing not to waste his ammunition, he continued firing until he reached his last bullet. Without hesitation, Vin pulled the trigger for the final time when suddenly, a new eruption of fresh artillery exploded around him. The sounds whizzed past him like before except these were not coming at him but from behind him, instead. Vin turned around as he heard the fresh chorus of gunfire like it was the sweetest sound in the world. It was almost with a smile that he saw Josiah, Ezra and JD riding forward with guns blazing. No sooner, than he had faced front again, he saw what remained of the bounty hunters cut down like straw. Only their horses continued the journey while their master felt into the field of gold like weights disappearing to the briny depths.

"Took you long enough." Vin said weakly, when the others finally reached him.

"Your captors were determined to make it to Tascoma in one day’s ride." Ezra pointed out, nudging his horse forward so that he could take control of Vin’s own. Although he hid the concern in his eyes, Ezra could see the blood soaking through Vin’s shirt.

"Vin, you’re hurt!" JD exclaimed, never one to miss the obvious.

"Its just a scratch." the mountain man replied, trying not to show the pain he was in despite the severity of his injuries. In that way, Vin was like Chris Larabee, who seems to have difficulty allowing anyone to witness such displays of their mortality.

"Can you ride?" Josiah asked firmly, knowing the question was obligatory. "It would take time to reach Four Corners and Vin did not appear to have much strength left in his wounded body."

"I’ll probably need some help with the reins." He mumbled.

"I got it." Ezra said taking the strips of leather in his hands. "Try to hold on Mr Tanner," the gambler remarked. "We’ll have you in the ministrations of good Doctor Styles in no time." He said trying to sound confident even though he was just as worried about Vin’s condition as Josiah and JD.

"Now that’s something to look forward to." Vin sighed as he slumped forward in the saddle, finally giving in to the pain and the black that had been on the edge of his consciousness.

*********

She had heard the yelling and the muffled crashes through the crack of her bedroom door. She has listened as Mary argued before a sound that could only be flesh being struck violently. She forced the gasp that escaped her throat into silence, listening in rising fear at the scuffle of feet that soon evaporated into the nothingness of quiet.

Inez remained where she was, too afraid too move but unwilling to cower in fear either. She knew her friends were in trouble and she was witness to enough of the proceedings to know what fate the enemy had planned. Nathan was in no position to be of any help. She knew the men were gone and realised with almost agonising frustration that she was all that stood between Mary Travis, Doctor Alexandra Styles and a fiery death.

How could anyone expect this of her? After what she had been through?

She remained crouched by the door, trying to sum up the courage to stand up and do what was needed. Her arm still ached and her ribs were in no shape to allow her to perform any activity, let alone carrying out any rescue. However, as the seconds stretched into minutes, she knew that there was no one else. Part of her was terrified to venture out of this room, to face what lay in the world outside. The memory of what was done to her was so fresh in her mind, she need only close her eyes to see their faces laughing as they…..

Stop it!

Inez screamed silently in her mind. Stop it! This is what Paulo had wanted from her, what men always seemed to want. Now they had it, lavishing themselves to the point of euphoria on the nightmare she would endure for the rest of her life. A nightmare that might be marginally tolerable with her friends offering her comfort. If she remained where she was, hidden in the dark, in fear of her own shadow, she would lose those friends and the hurt would never end.

It was not a trade she was willing to make.

Inez rose to her feet and stepped out of the room, feeling her body throb as she padded towards the staircase that led to the floor of the saloon. Mary and her captors had left a few minutes ago but Inez had heard enough to guess where they were going. Victoria Kendall wanted Chris Larabee to know pain the like of which he could never endure.

To do that, she intended to leave him a legacy of fire and pyre on which Mary Travis would burn.

**********

The law had cleared him of any wrong doing in the deaths of James, Timothy and Isaac Westbrook, citing he had acted in self-defence. Bitter Creek authorities had been so incensed by the loss of their much-loved Sheriff and dozens of lawmen that had since attempted to bring in Damien Westbrook to justice, they were willing to exonerate Chris of any responsibility of what had happened. While the law had not found him culpable, Chris did not find it as easy to absolve himself. For a man who was accustomed to keeping most things in his world under strict control, he could not imagine how the situation that night had spiralled so badly out of control.

Despite his practised demeanour of cool detachment, Chris found the incident had plagued his mind for months after. Eventually, it faded from memory although in the darker moments of despair after Sarah and Adam’s death, he had entertained the notion whether or not his family had died for that particular sin. Chris had not cause to think about the Westbrooks until Inez had been violated yesterday. The way she had been brutalised brought back memories of Alice and with Alice, Damien Westbrook would immediately follow.

He supposed that a reckoning was always inevitable. For a long time, the possibility of incurring someone’s wrath had hardly bothered him enough to care. However things had altered considerably in his life during the last year. The sudden appearance of people in his life had shifted the balance of his carefully guarded existence.

And then there was Mary.

Mary with her golden hair and a smile that was capable of sending his heart aflutter like he was a teenage boy with his first crush. When he was with her, the walls around his inner self seem unnecessary, almost hindering. She was capable of bringing him out of his protective shell with so little effort that he wondered what was the power she had over him. If it was a spell she had cast over him, Chris could not care less. He could think of worse ways to spend eternity other than being wrapped in the blanket of warmth she provided.

If anything was still capable of sending him into utter waves of panic, it was the possibility of her being gone.

Part of the reason he had stayed away so long was because she was an exploitable weakness. Anyone who wanted to hurt him could use her to do it. It had taken a long time for him to overcome that fear and brave a relationship with her. Since the moment of their first night together and every day since, Chris Larabee had never found cause to regret that decision.

Until now.

Chris let his gaze move across the wreckage of Mary Travis’ parlour and knew that he and Buck had returned to late from Crescent Falls to be of any help to her. There were spots of blood on the floor and the walls were riddled with bullets. Judging by the state of the room leading to the stairs, someone had broken in through the front door before engaging in a firefight. There did not seem to be a lot of blood, certainly enough to have come from a gunshot wound.

Refusing to think the worse, he started up the steps only to be greeted by Buck who had gone up to investigate while Chris was occupied downstairs.

"No one’s up there.’ Buck offered as he came down the stairs, wearing a grim expression on his face. "I found the door to one of the rooms partially barricaded but no sign of anyone or anything. I don’t think they got up that far, I didn’t see no bullet wounds."

"Which doesn’t answer the question where they are." Chris said abruptly and spun on his heels before striding out the door.

"Well if there was trouble," Buck hurried to catch up with him. "Vin wouldn’t have let them stay here. They may have gone to the saloon or some place safer."

Chris had already thought of that and was making his way towards the establishment even as Buck let the words escape his lips. Once again, the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him during his journey back to Four Corners reared its ugly visage in his mind. "Assuming," Chris responded as they walked up the street. "That Vin isn’t hurt himself. I saw blood on the floor."

Buck’s colour changed and Chris saw the worry in his eyes thicken so abruptly that he had to turn away from Chris. "If they’ve hurt Inez again, I’ll kill them." Buck swore under his breath.

They arrived at the saloon to find it empty, which was expected at this time of day. It was just after dawn and the saloon had closed hour ago. However, Chris saw a pot of coffee on the table and went straight for it. Feeling the smooth surface of the pot with his hand, he noticed that there were still some traces of warmth left in the quickly cooling beverage.

"Its still warm." Chris looked at Buck. The table had all the signs of being recently occupied but the saloon was just as empty as Mary’s house.

"Ezra!" Chris head Buck call as he ran up the stairs to find the gambler.

Enough of this, Chris decided. He was not about to waste time trying to find the others when Mary and Inez’s life could be in danger. He hoped the others were not here for a good reason and he had to believe that Vin was absent because he was with Mary and Inez. Having charged the mountain man to protect the two women, he was certain that Vin would not shirk that responsibility even under the threat of death. Chris sincerely hoped it had not come to that.

Buck reappeared a moment later, looking bewildered and concerned. "Nathan is up there asleep but no one else is." He reported. "I don’t understand this, where is Josiah, JD and Ezra? They should be here!"

"They should be," Chris nodded. "But they aren’t, so we’re just going to have to deal with this ourselves and work out the details later."

"That’s all well and good," Buck retorted. "But we don’t know where anyone is or if anything has actually happened to them."

As unlikely as the possibility that the absence of his friends and the woman he loved could be explained rationally, Chris did not believe it for a moment. "Doesn’t matter," Chris retorted turning back to the bat wing doors. "We’re going to the source of the problem now."

To that, Buck found he could not disagree. It was time that Chris Larabee and Buck Wilmington finally met Mrs Victoria Kendall.

*******

"I can’t understand a word you’re saying." Alex retorted as she struggled with the ropes that kept her hands tied around her back. "And would you stop speaking, you have a broken jaw." She had no idea why she was concerning herself with Mary’s injuries when it seemed to be a moot point at this moment. If Victoria Kendall was allowed to feed her insane desires for revenge against Chris Larabee, a broken jaw was the least of Mary Travis’ problems.

Mary had been trying to speak through her broken jaw and for obvious reasons, was not very intelligible. Although if the level of her anxiety could be measured by intensity of her muffled words, Alex would then surmise the widow was very unhappy indeed.

"What damn difference does it make!" Mary snapped. Forcing her mouth to co-operate in spite of the pain of the fracture inflicted by the steel of Victoria’s gun, Mary’s words sounded slurred. As soon as the words left her sore mouth, she felt slivers of pain from the action and groaned visibly.

"I have no idea!" Alex answered with just as much vehemence. "I am trying to remain calm under pressure."

Mary rolled her eyes in disbelief as she contemplated their situation. Victoria and Saul had taken them to the newly constructed Emporium and left them in the basement, bound and helpless. Surrounded by faceless mannequins and other items that would never see the light of day, the two women were kept out of side while Victoria carried out her plans for vengeance. Mary could hear their footsteps across the floor above her head and the sound served only to heighten her apprehension.

Victoria was determined to make Chris face his worse nightmare once again by losing another women he loved to a fiery death. At the moment, it was far more important to Mary that he did not endure that fate then the risk to her life.

"All the gunslingers in the west and we have to get one who knows how to tie knots like a sailor!" Alex complained angrily as she felt the coarse ropes rubbing her wrists raw each time she renewed her efforts to loosen them. "I can’t even get this knot to budge!"

"We better think of something." Mary grunted an answer, wincing once more as she spoke through her injured mouth. "I had a list of things to do today, none of which involved getting burned to a crisp."

"I admire your ability to joke at a time like this." The doctor said sarcastically and then added with less calm. "What is it with you newspaper people? Stop talking!" Alex declared. "That jaw is never going to heal!"

"Thank you so much Doctor Livingston." Mary quipped although she knew the woman was right. Her jaw ached terribly and she shuddered each time she felt the grating of bone against bone. She felt as if a weight was pressing up against a cheek and the pressure inside her mouth was growing by the minute. However, in the rare instances when deranged family members were attempting to murder her in vengeance of a loved one, Mary Travis preferred not to go quietly.

With Chris and Buck at Crescent Falls, Josiah and the others trying to find Vin Tanner, there was no help coming and their bantering reflected this seeming hopeless situation. With growing realisation, Mary and Alex had come to the conclusion that they would only extract themselves from this present predicament by mans of utilising their own resourcefulness.

At the moment, neither was rising to the occasion with any dignity.

"She’s insane you know." Alex remarked unable to forget the deranged gleam in Victoria Kendall’s eyes as they brought here. She did not know the man in black with any familiarity. Everything about him seemed to say ‘go away’ and for good reason. She had no doubt he was as dangerous as he looked even if he wore a seemingly civilised exterior. Throughout all this, there was only one question that Alex had hesitated in asking. However, if she was going to die because of him, she did feel the right to knowing the truth. "Do you think he did it?" She asked finally. "Do you think Larabee murdered her family?"

"Chris is a lot of things," Mary said with soft voice that had nothing to do with her injury. "He is not a cold blooded murderer although," she sighed heavily. "He usually has impeccable timing."

"I wouldn’t mind seeing that for myself about now." Alex commented unable to deny that Mary’s conviction in his innocence as infectious.

Suddenly, the footsteps overhead ceased abruptly, followed by an uncomfortable stretch of silence. For a moment, neither Mary nor Alex spoke as they waited in rising anxiety for some new threat to appear on the horizon. Victoria had stated her intentions with such relish that the captives knew the quiet was merely a prelude to the final act in Victoria Kendall’s play of vengeance.

A drop of fluid appeared through the fissure of floorboards, unnoticed at first until it grew to a large droplet that made a soft but noticeable sound as it impacted on the ground in front of them. Another droplet followed in quick succession until it resembled a leaky roof during a rainstorm. When the droplets had formed sufficient quantity to become a pool, a strange odour wafted through the air. Its stink was pungent and somewhat disorientating.

"Oh my god." Alex exclaimed, identifying the smell first. "Its lamp oil."

*****

Through some miracle, Inez had made it into the building without being seen. Having peered through one of the glass windows of the Emporium, she witnessed in rising horror at the sight of Saul and Victoria Kendall emptying bottles of lamp oil over everything. The thick viscous fluid was soon smeared over walls and cabinets, dripping off any surface that was smooth enough to allow it flow. With a sinking realisation, Inez guessed that Mary and Alex were probably imprisoned somewhere, helpless while building around them was in preparation to become an inferno.

She circled the building, opting to enter through rear entrance of the building, utilising the same path Mary and Alex had been forced to follow on their way to their prison. Fortunately, their captors had left the door unlocked, giving Inez a way onto the premises. Every step she made was one she felt as her body protested to the activity that she was forcing it to endure. Inwardly, she was in little condition to effect any rescue but the reality of the situation saw no other alternative.

Inez was terrified of encountering the man who might have been responsible for her rape because one of the voices had seemed familiar. She had no idea what she would do if forced to face him again and the thought sent shivers of fear down her spine that almost forced her to run back to the saloon and hide. Inez forced away such thoughts, remembering the friend and the doctor who were in dire need of her help.

Navigating through the smaller rooms, she kept clear of the main floor, while testing every door and inspecting every room for some indication as to where the duo might have placed Mary and Doctor Styles. It was not long before she found herself at a door leading to the basement and heard the frightened voices behind it. With a surge of excitement, Inez realised that she knew those voices and immediately reached for the handle when suddenly; she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Victoria Kendall asked and Inez felt her heart freeze in her chest. Turning around slowly, she swore under her breath and made a silent apology to Mary and Alex for failing them.

"Saul!" The woman screeched, beckoning her companion from the front room.

Inez’s eyes widened as she saw him approach. Deep wells of hatred rose from the pit of her stomach in the knowledge that this was the man who had made her feel like less then nothing. Seeing him in the flesh, instead of the dark faceless figure that had tormented her in her nightmares, surfaced a powerful surge of rage that Inez could ill contain. Without warning, she rushed at him with a speed she knew not she possessed, moving past Victoria in a blur of colour before sinking her long nails into his face and raking as much flesh she could on recoil.

He uttered a painful cry and lashed out fiercely, striking her against her bruised face with the back of his hand. Inez fell to the floor with little effort on his part but she hardly felt the pain in light of the immense satisfaction of seeing his face torn by her hand. At the very least, he would never be able to look in the mirror without remembering who had scarred him this way.

"Bitch!" He snarled and moved towards her, with every intention of killing her.

"Saul, we don’t have time for this!" Victoria stopped him in mid stride. "Let’s just light this place and go! We can watch them burn when we ride out of this godforsaken town. Throw her in the basement with the others…" She ordered with an icy glare the man could not refuse.

Saul glared at Inez, seething from his injuries and unsatisfied that his desire to kill her with his bare hands would not come to pass. He started toward her when suddenly; they heard sharp rapping against the glass of the main doors. The sound froze the moment and Inez strained to look at who the unexpected visitor might have been. What she saw renewed her belief in her god and allowed her the insane thought of believing that a more wonderful sight than that of Buck and Chris waiting for someone to answer the door, could exist.

Without hesitation, Inez saw her chance and took it. "BUCK!" She fairly screamed.

"You little whore!" Victoria Kendall swore and sent her boot flying into Inez’s tender ribs. The kick wrenched an agonising scream from the fallen woman that almost eclipsed the first. Inez rolled onto her side in pain, feeling the pain tear a sob from her body as she curled into a foetal position before everything went to hell.

*******

Chris heard the scream and met Buck’s gaze in instant recognition. "Buck, around the back!" He ordered as he ran forward, smashing through the glass and wood with little thought of injury to himself. Trailing shards and splinters, Chris entered the Emporium just in time to be greeted by a series of gunshots. Throwing himself behind some shelves, he scrambled to the edge of the wooden constructions and began returning fire. It was at this point that he noticed an all too familiar odour. Fortunately, he had soaked none of the inflammatory material on himself and was tempted to shout a warning not to shoot before it occurred to him that its presence might be intentional.

No sooner than the thought had crossed his mind, the sparks from their weapons did what he feared. The inner half of the main floor burst into flames, fire running up the length and breath of the room, following the trail left by the oil that Saul and Victoria had used so indiscriminately to doused the place. As a bullet slammed into the ceramic pots behind him, shattering in a thousand pieces that rained on his back, Chris chose to deal with the more immediate problem. He peered past the safety of the shelf to see Saul firing at him with both guns blazing. He waited for a pause in the volley of bullets before returning his own fire.

Bullets whizzed past his head, striking the shelves behind him and splintering wood in all directions. The glass windows behind him had shattered spectacularly and the sound of gunfire being exchanged was becoming deafening. He heard Saul scrambling forward when Chris was force to reload his weapon. He was uncertain of how much ammunition Saul had on his person but knew his own supply was not inexhaustible. With the fire quickly consuming everything before him, Chris was suddenly struck with the possibility that Saul did not mean to kill him but instead delay him from reaching Mary.

Where the hell was Buck? He cursed under his breath as he saw the fabric in those section of the Emporium ignite with such flawless tenacity that it was almost beautiful. The smoke was becoming thicker now and Chris could feel it burning his eyes slightly. He heard coughing somewhere and gathered it was Saul. Realising that time was against him, Chris sought a faster way to end this firefight.

The flames were quickly finding fresh fodder to feed its insatiable lust, as more and more items were ignited. The veil of smoke drifting past Chris that previously obscuring his vision was now making it hard to breathe. This could not go on much longer, he had to reach Mary. Chris looked at the shelf behind which he was hiding and then noticed several more leading up the aisle to where his nemesis was taking cover. Some had already fallen prey to the fire but most were still intact and standing.

An idea borne of desperation sprung to mind when Chris realised that they could continue firing at each other until they ran out of bullets or die in the flames that were engulfing everything around them. Chris could accept the dying if it meant doing so would not doom Mary to the same fate. Taking the chance at ending this quickly, Chris shoved hard against the shelf until it teetered on its edge. A final push sent the it over and in its descent slammed hard into the others down the aisle. Taking the chance while he could, he ran down the aisle, as Saul became aware at what was coming at him.

As the enemy crawled to get out of the way of the shelves collapsing upon each other like a game of dominoes, he forgot about Chris Larabee for the moment. The lapse lasted no more than a minute but it gave Chris enough time to bring him down in a full body tackle. Saul fell backwards, his gun flying out of his hand as he landed on top of a table containing some glass bottles of perfume. The older man recovered quicker than Chris gave him credit and elbowed Chris in the chest. The gunslinger fell backwards and kicked out his foot, striking the man’s jaw and sending him reeling.

Else where, Victoria Kendall watched and waited.

********

Buck hurried around the Emporium; unknowingly taking the same route Inez had done earlier. Her terrified scream was seared into his mind and despite the urgency of the situation, he did feel some pleasure when she had called not for Chris whom she would have seen first but him. Buck burst through the rear entrance, guns drawn as he moved carefully through the corridors that meandered through the rooms in the building. He generally knew where he was going but it was difficult to see now that the fire was raging out of control. There was thick smoke billowing through the passageway and Buck could see tendrils of orange flames running along the rafters above his head.

"Inez!" He called out, trying to fan the flames from his obscured vision so that he could find her. He had heard her scream not once but twice and he was sure she was in agony the second time. He did not know what frightened him more, the fact that she was in the hands of such vile folk as Saul Willis and Victoria Kendall or that she had actually screamed in terror. He had never heard her scream in fear of anything. She was his proud, defiant and outrageously brave Inez and anything that could frighten her, frightened him.

"I’m here!" Buck heard her cough in response and thought it the sweetest sound in the world.

She was still on the floor, doubled over by a door, hugging her legs in pain. It was an instant later that Buck was aware that there were other cries for help emanating from the entrance. With a surge or relief, he knew that it was Mary and Alex. Dropping to his knees to help her, Buck moved to pick her up when she waved him away.

"Not yet," she groaned. "Mary and the doctor are down there!"

"What are you doing here honey?" He asked as placed his hand against her cheek. He could feel the heat of fire against her skin and knew that the flames were coming closer to them.

"I had to help them." She whispered. "She was going to burn them like Chris’ wife and son."

Buck’s jaw tightened hearing that, needing no further incentive to smash his boot hard against the lock and tearing it from the wood. It slammed open against the wall and recoiled but Buck shoved it aside and hurried down the stairs. The basement was filled with grey smoke and when he reached the floor; he saw the faint outline of Mary and Alex coughing wildly, their faces covered in soot.

"Thank god!" Alex exclaimed with obvious relief. "Get us the hell out of here!" She shouted in unconcealed panic. Mary’s eyes reflected the same sentiments but her eyes searched the stairway behind him to see if anyone else was coming.

"Chris?" She managed to ask.

"Upstairs dealing with Saul." Buck said abruptly, more interested in cutting away the ropes that held them down rather than answering any questions. He had managed to forget about Chris fighting Saul Willis and Victoria Kendall in his haste to free the women. Now, he was suddenly concerned that he ought to go find his friend. However, first things first. The long bladed knife that had been a gift from Vin cut the hessian ropes easily, snapping each tough fibrous strand with little or not effort. Alex was freed first and she got to her feet almost like it was a race she could not run fast enough.

When Mary was freed, they hurried up the staircase with Buck leading the way. When they reached the top, he dropped down and swooped Inez in his arms with one swift movement.

"Inez!" Alex exclaimed. "How did you get here?"

"I couldn’t let them hurt you both." Inez responded, her arms sliding around Buck’s neck and finding comfort in being able to hold him close.

"Thank you Inez," Alex squeezed her arm warmly. "You are the bravest woman I know."

"Come on ladies," Buck interrupted as his eyes searched the smoke for Chris and disappointed when he could not see his friend. He did not want to leave Chris behind but the women had to be taken to safety and he knew Chris would want him to do that first before any attempt at helping him. The fire had snaked its way further down the ceiling of the corridor and was starting to turn the powerful beams of wood into cinders. It would not be long before it all came down. "We’ve got to get moving."

Following Buck’s lead, the group hurried down the corridor; trying not to breathe in any more of the noxious smoke and ignore the flames that were following them in close pursuit. When they finally emerged into the morning air, its untainted scent went a long way to lifting their frightened spirits. Outside, the residents of Four Corners were becoming aware of the fire and some of them were gathering on the streets, trying to mobilise the town’s fledgling fire fighting force with some difficulty.

It was Alex who noticed that Mary was not with them.

*******

The blade caught his skin and cut open a sizeable gash in his arm. Chris winced slightly but managed to catch Saul’s hand before the man could sink the blade into another part of his anatomy. Saul had produced the Bowie from inside his boot and had so far managed to avoid all attempts Chris had made to remove the weapon. Around them, the ceiling was on fire and threatening to collapse at any moment.

"You’ll never get to her in time." Saul smiled maliciously as he lunged at Chris with his other hand. "She’ll burn like the other one burned."

Chris ground his teeth, forcing away the man’s taunts because he knew better. Buck would find Mary. He had to believe that or else not even his life would matter. He blocked Saul’s blow and slammed his forehead hard against the bridge of the man’s nose while keeping a firm grip on the hand holding the knife. Saul recoiled in pain, blood gushing from a shattered nose. Taking advantage of his disorientation, Chris forced the blade backward in one final and conclusive show of strength.

The blade impaled Saul Willis so completely, sliding through his chest like a hot knife through butter that Chris felt its sharp tip strike the floor beneath him. Saul’s eyes widened in an expression of surprise before the life drained from him completely and his face contorted in a silent cry of agony. Chris felt his body slacken before his head rolled back, hitting the wooden floor in a final death knell.

Breathing hard, Chris rose to his feet and turned to find Mary when suddenly, he heard the familiar click of gun cocking. Through the smoke he saw her for the first time, eyes glaring at him with venomous hatred that had been raging with more heat than this fire could ever imagine. She stepped out of the smoke, gun pointed firmly at him with every intention of killing him in the next few seconds.

"Hello Lucy." Chris said without any sign of fear. He had a feeling it would not get him very far even if he did feel the fear she wanted to see in his eyes.

"I’m honoured you remembered." She said coldly, approaching him slowly. Before he died, she wanted to see his eyes. The flames were all around them. She supposed hell must feel this way. It gave comfort to her universe to know that he would go first.

"I didn’t." Chris answered honestly. "Not until I went to Crescent Falls with Buck and he saw the Westbrook family plot."

"You were always thorough." She smiled without a trace of humour. Her eyes were dark pits of hatred he was intimately familiar with. Chris wondered for how long she had fantasised this moment in her mind, replaying the scene of vengeance she would create for him. "I suppose I should have expected it."

"Why Lucy?" Chris found himself asking. "Why now after 13 years?"

Her eyes narrowed as the question bounced off her. With a slow smile, she her fingers tightened around the trigger and responded. "Why not?" She said coldly. "Do you think there is a statute of limitation on what you did? You murdered my father and my brothers for what? A little whore that probably had it coming? You hung Damien for that?"

"Damien deserved to be hung." Chris said with no intention of saving his life by lying. "He raped and murdered a whole lot more women than just that little whore as you called her. I wasn’t going to hurt anyone that night but I was going to bring an end to him, one way or another. I gave your father and brother’s a choice. You may not remember that but I do." Strangely enough, when he was berating himself over their deaths the past few years, that was a detail he had never actually considered; that he had given them a choice at life. It was more of an opportunity than the Westbrooks had ever given anyone.

"A choice!" She glared at him, as if the notion was preposterous. "You think that offering my family a chance to serve a Westbrook as a sacrificial lamb is a choice!"

"I gave them as much of a choice as they gave the law who tried to bring your brother in." Chris replied, unmindful of the inferno that was blazing around them or the ceiling that was on the verge of collapsing the entire building around their ears. The fire was eclipsing the smoke. Chris could feel the hot flames prickling his skin and the rising temperature was running sweat down his forehead. If he had been any farther away, he might have tried to escape her but Chris had the premonition that he even moved an inch, she would shoot him without hesitation.

"Do you know what it’s like to watch your mother wither away and die?" She demanded, showing the first weakness in the mask of fury she was wearing. "When you killed my father, you should just killed her. Instead you made her suffer the agony of burying her husband and her sons! I suppose I should feel something knowing that you suffered the same but its not enough!" She snarled fiercely, riding high on a surge of adrenaline from which there was no return. "I want you to scream from the pain the way you made my family suffer! I’m going to put you through hell!"

"Victoria." A new voice called out calmly.

Victoria looked over her shoulder just in time to feel the hard steel of a cast iron pan slam into the side of her head. The force of the blow almost lifted her off her feet as she fell backwards. She went down without a sound or a shriek, the concussion of sound vibrating through the cackling air for a few seconds after. Mary watched her fall dispassionately before dropping the pan onto the floor with a loud thud.

Chris who was staring at her with a widening smile of relief when she looked up at him and returned his grin with the best disjointed smile she could managed with her fractured jaw before replying. "No one is going to put you through hell but me."

He let out a short chuckle and then came forward to grab her hand. "Come on." Chris said pulling her towards the open door. He took note of the ugly bruise on the side of her face and reminded himself to ask about it later. "We’ve got to get out of here."

There was no time for warm reunions; the Emporium was a fiery death waiting to happen. The heat and smoke was starting to overwhelm them and he was surprised that they neither of them had succumbed to it. He hesitated remembering Victoria lying in the heart of all that fire and knew that he would not allow her to die. He was not going to be responsible for the death of another Westbrook.. "You go on," he urged Mary as he took a step towards the unconscious woman.

Suddenly, any good intentions he might have regarding Mrs Kendall ended with that powerful crack of a ceiling beam giving way. He looked up long enough to see the heave of wood bearing down on them before he was forced into moving by Mary’s strong grip on his hand. They ran out of the Emporium, barely a step ahead of the descending rain of wood and flaming debris. Crashing through the door, neither were aware of the glass and splinters that clung to their skin until they had cleared the building.

There was already a small crowd forming outside the Emporium, with frightened faces trying to comprehend the drama unfolding before them. The building was a blaze with a fire so thick that no amount of water was going to save it. Thick columns of black smoke rose into the blue morning sky. Chris and Mary watched the sign over the door curling with heat before engaging in a warm embrace, not caring whether the entire town was watching or not. All that was important was the fact that they were alive and the ordeal of the last few days had finally come to a close.

So much for the Emporium, Chris sighed. Good, he hated the place anyway.

"You’re hurt." She mumbled through her injured jaws, seeing the slash on his arm after they had parted.

"Its nothing," Chris replied, far more interested in the discoloration on her cheek. "What happened to your face?"

"Alex thinks my jaw is fractured."

"And you’re still talking?" He looked at her in concern.

She glared at him through narrowed eyes and starting walking back to the flaming building.

"Where are you going?" He called out.

Mary did not return his gaze and retorted. "I’m going back for the pan."

END OF PART SIX

EPILOGUE:

SHIFTS

"So how are my patients doing today?" Alexandra Styles inquired walking into the saloon. It was a week since the Emporium had burned down and she had been such a frequent visitor in the establishment that no one even bothered pointing out that it was inappropriate for a woman to be there.

It was the first time that either Nathan or Vin was allowed out of their rooms since sustaining their injuries. Once the strength had return to them, both men had used the energy to make themselves the most troublesome patients it had been Alex’s displeasure to treat. It was impossible to make them sit still for one moment and while Nathan understood the importance of staying put to keep stitches in tact, Alex had actually considered tying Vin Tanner to his bed at one point and keep a guard on him.

"Fine now that we’re out of bed." Vin smiled at the pretty doctor.

"I see." Alex said noting the bottle of whisky on the table and more particularly, the shot glass in front of Vin. Without saying another word, she took the glass away and set it down on someone else’s table. "Enjoy." She said briefly as Vin broke into protest.

"I was drinking that." He complained.

"I told you." Nathan laughed as he studied the cards dealt in his game with Josiah and Ezra. Vin gave Nathan a dirty look while Josiah chuckled and Ezra revealed his amusement in a smile.

"And I told you," she looked hard at Vin. "No drinking, no smoking, nothing for the next three to four weeks. You have a chest injury and I did not put you back together so you can wreck it all by polluting your system will all these…."

"Libations?" Ezra offered helpfully.

"That." Alex retorted. "Mr Tanner, don’t force me to get ugly with you. If I have to, I will keep sedating you every six hours for the next month if that’s what it will take for you to obey doctor’s orders."

"Ouch." Nathan winced at the thought. "I think she means it Vin." The black man said unable to suppress his amusement. "By the way ma’am, could you please check on Mrs Lawson? Her baby is due in a few weeks and she was worried the birth might be a breach."

"Okay," Alex nodded. "I will go see her later today, anything more I need to know about?" She inquired. Alex and Nathan had come to an understanding regarding their shared responsibility of Four Corner’s medical health. For his own sake, Alex had barred him from attempting any surgery. She knew he was forced to perform it on occasion but the truth of the matter was, should anyone choose to take it up with the law, Nathan Jackson could find himself in serious trouble if he was found practicing surgery without a qualifying license. She respected his ability because there was no doubt in her mind that he was extremely suited for medicine and made a mental note to see if there was anything she could do to getting him partially recognised by the medical community for his efforts to date.

"Not that I can think of." He answered as he discarded some unwanted cards from his hand. "Things can get slow when someone doesn’t come gunning for us. It just gets routine."

"How dull," she sighed checking Vin’s bandages much to the mountain man’s chagrin. "After my first two days here, I don’t think I can handle the boredom."

"It doesn’t last that long." Josiah replied. "Something odd always happens around here. At least, we get a rest in between."

"I have no trouble in believing that vile creature was a sister to a scoundrel like Damien Westbrook." Ezra remarked, still unable to forget her scathing words about Alex. Her body had been sent back to Crescent Falls at the request of her sister Rebecca who lived in the east. As Buck had discovered in the cemetery when he inadvertently stumbled upon that headstone, Victoria Kendall was no fabrication of Lucy’s vengeance. Victoria was merely her middle name and Kendall was her married name. Buck had learnt this when he had come across David Kendall’s headstone that was mourned by his wife Lucy Victoria Kendall.

"Well revenge is a double edge sword." Josiah remarked. "When you carry that much hatred around for so long, it is a matter of time before it taints the soul."

"Hers was a soul very tainted." Alex retorted as she moved to inspect Nathan. Having first hand knowledge of the woman’s rage, Alex could attest to that fact with complete conviction. "She was nearly driven insane from it." She could not forget that deranged gleam of malevolence in her eyes as she casually condemned Mary and Alex to death that terrible morning.

JD Dunne walked into the saloon, his eyes moving automatically in their direction as he approached their table. The young sheriff had been at the jailhouse most of the morning, taking care of some loose ends to this whole Kendall affair since Mary Travis was at home recuperating. He never knew how much he hated the paperwork of his profession or just how much of it the widow took off his shoulders. He made a note that when she was ready to return to the Clarion and work, he was going to buy her some flowers in appreciation of the things she spared him from doing.

That is, if Chris did not mind.

"Hey JD," a chorus of voice greeted the young man as he approached.

"About time," Ezra rose to his feet after folding his hand. "I require you to take my place young man." The con man stepped away from the chair as JD slipped into it, momentarily distracted from his current line of thought.

"Sure," JD responded and then tried to remember what he was going to say as he sat down and watched Josiah began dealing the cards around the table. His eyes moved across the friends at the table and only when it came to Vin, did the memory returned to him sharply. "Vin, I got good news."

"Just don’t say its anything to do with cigars and whisky, I might start to cry." He retorted, giving Alex a dark look as he said those words. The adversarial nature of his relationship with the doctor was all in good fun. He liked her spirit and wished with some disappointment that Ezra did not have some claim on her affections already.

"No." JD said wondering what that was all about. "Actually I just got a wire from Judge Travis." He replied, remembering the contents of the telegram he received not more than an hour ago. "Chris was right, the money for the reward on your head did come from Mrs Kendall."

"Nothing new there." Ezra replied. "The lady was determined to cause as much grief as humanly possible."

"Anyway, Judge Travis had talked to the sheriff’s office in Tascoma and requested that they send out telegrams everywhere saying that the $2000 reward has been rescinded. The prices on your head is back to $500." JD announced happily and wondered why Vin had not greeted the news with more enthusiasm.

"Well that’s something anyway." Vin sighed. "I can live with a $500 bounty. I prefer not to but I ain’t going to complain."

"That will be a first." Alex quipped before turning to Ezra once she was satisfied at the progress of the two men. Considering her plans for the day, she wanted to ensure that they were in satisfactory condition to be left without her ministrations for a few hours. "Are we ready to go?" She looked at Ezra who was straightening his hat in readiness to depart.

"Where are you two going?" Nathan asked, marvelling in the strange relationship that had developed between Alexandra Styles and Ezra Staidness. There was a time when Ezra did not even consider a friendship with Nathan worth having because of colour. Now it appeared that it difficult to imagine that prejudice had ever existed in Ezra. Nathan supposed it was a sign of growth although Miss Styles was very beautiful and that was incentive enough to overcome any hurdle.

"I need to buy myself a house." Alex announced. "I can’t stay in a hotel forever so Ezra and I are going to look at a few places around town." With everything else that had transpired lately, Alex had little time to unpack, let alone set up a practise.

"Buying a house takes money." Josiah pointed out. "You haven’t even sent out a bill yet." The preacher joked.

"That’s okay," Alex replied as she turned to leave. "My father left me quite a bit."

Letting the lady walk out first, Ezra turned to his friends and smiled with a wistful sigh. "Be still my beating heart, she’s rich too." With that, the gambler hurried after the object of his affections before she put too much distance between them.

"I don’t know what she sees in him." Vin retorted after they had gone.

"Whatever it is," JD said with typical youthful tact. "I hope it ain’t catching."

*********

Inez never thought she would say this but Buck Wilmington was starting to frighten her.

She could not understand why this was so, considering that during the past week he had been attentive and polite. His conversations were utterly devoid of any kind of sexual innuendo and he had been more or less hovering around her to ensure that she did not aggravate her injuries in any shape of form. His sensitivity to her situation had her seeing him in a new light, far removed of the notorious womaniser he had come to know.

At this moment, he was actually helping her in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and kneading dough, while eliminating any of the strenuous work involved in catering for the saloon crowd. He did so without complaint, in a manner so utterly unlike Buck Wilmington that Inez, to her eternal surprise, discovered she utterly and without any doubt at all, hated what he had transformed into for her.

She wanted the old Buck. The Buck who used follow her around the saloon, trying to convince her that he was the one for her and that they should seal this discovery with a night time dalliance. She missed the overt flirting, the brash picks up lines and the forward manner bordering on scandalous. Inez did not know why she missed it and had since realised that it would be one of life’s mysteries, sort of like the shroud of Turin.

She knew the story about Alice Sullivan. Ezra had been so kind as to relate the unfortunate past Buck had with the Westbrooks that had precipitated the events that had caused her brutal attack and left very few of them unscathed. Inez could not associate the Buck she knew with a younger man who had been devastated by the loss of his would be bride in such a horrific manner. Although she did not blame him in anyway for what had happened to her, Inez could see that he was trying desperately to make it up to her. It was to her amazement that Inez realised that he need not make such reparations because she wanted him back the way he was.

She would never admit it to any one but Inez loved their fiery confrontations. It fired her blood with a passion that would override all good sense when she finally succumbed to it. They had both enjoyed the chase and Inez would be sad to see it disappear for what existed now. A part of her would always have nightmares and the wounds of her assault were still fresh in her mind. However, when she had gone into the Emporium to help Mary and Alex, Inez had realised that she was not broken or defeated, she still had friends and a place in the world.

With their support, she was going to be all right. Now, if she could just get Buck back to normal, things would be just peachy.

"Buck." She was seated on the kitchen chair, watching Buck slicing some carrots with difficulty. He was making an admirable attempt at trying to slice them evenly but as she watched him handle the knife, Inez knew it would not be long before someone found a finger in their stew.

"Yeah?" He looked up at her.

"I’m going to be okay." She said meeting his gaze.

Buck stopped what he was doing immediately and looked up at her. His face betrayed his feelings and Inez knew that he was relieved to hear that even though he would not say it out loud. "Are you trying to tell me nicely that my carrot slicing is bad?" He joked even though the humour did not reach his eyes.

"No," she shook her head laughing. "I know what you are afraid of and it is not going to happen to me. I promise you."

Buck’s gaze dropped to the floor and he swallowed hard. He cared for Inez a great deal but there was a well of pain left behind by Alice’s death that had not ever gone away. Part of the reason why he moved from woman to woman was the fear of coming to love one and then losing her as he lost Alice. He could not bear going through that agony again. "I just never had a chance to talk to her, you know." He finally spoke after an eternity of silence trying to decide if he wanted to discuss Alice in her presence. "It all happened while I was out on the trail and I didn’t know anything until it was too late."

Inez climbed of her chair and slipped her good arm around his neck. "It was not your fault Buck." She said tenderly, resting her head against his. "I can’t explain to you what this pains feels like and even if I could, you wouldn’t understand but what happened to her was not your fault. I have the benefit of age to help me through this but your Alice did not. She was young and afraid and I’m feel sad for you that you could not help her but I are helping me."

"Really?" He said taking comfort in knowing that his efforts the past week were noticed and appreciated.

"Yes it has," she nodded. "But I think I miss the old Buck." She allowed a faint smile steal across her face.

Buck’s expression widened in surprise. "You’re kidding me."

"No," she shook her head. "I truly miss the old you."

"Well," he grinned sliding an arm around her waist before pulling her closer. The smell of her was intoxicating and even briefly, Buck relished each moment. " I’m never one to disappoint a lady."

Inez took note of where his hands were going before she remarked sweetly. "Buck?"

"Yeah?" he responded silkily, his hands feeling the softness of her skin beneath his palm.

"I do not miss the old you that much." She said staring at him hard.

"Right." Buck took that as his cue and stepped back, his hand withdrawn. "I just thought…." He decided against finishing that sentence. Meeting her gaze, he let out a sigh of defeat and glanced at the vegetables waiting for his attention.

"Carrots?" He asked, looking forlornly at the pile.

"Carrots, Buck." Inez smiled and wondered what other chore she could think of to torture him with. After all, it was not often she had help and it would be wrong of her not to take advantage of the situations.

Besides some day soon, she would make it up him.

********

It was almost evening and the sun had begun to set on the horizon of Four Corners. Chris Larabee stared at the retreating sunshine and wondered if the world was always this beautiful or that had he only now started to notice it. It had been a long time since the sunset had any power over him and he found himself gazing into the world trailing into night with unspoken appreciation. Next to him on the swing, Mary Travis was dozing lightly against his shoulder.

Since the truth about Victoria Kendall became public knowledge, the rumour mongering about their relationship had ceased. Buck had been correct in assuming that people would think that salacious bit of news to be the products of Victoria’s revenge and had more or less discarded it as being anything but the truth. Of course, the town gossips will always be whispering something or other about them both but eventually, it would be forgotten like all the rumours before it.

However, Chris had taken Buck’s advice in there being some formal understanding about his attentions towards Mary. Although he did not want to bring up the question of marriage, Chris had begun openly courting Mary so that the town would have some idea of their relationship, without escalating it into anything it was not. For some reason, Mary had found the whole idea somewhat amusing.

She uttered a soft sigh that moved across his cheeks in a light flutter, engendering a smile as she shifted position in the seat and caused them to sway forward gently. Mary opened her eyes and saw Chris looking at her. She tried to smile but her face ached too much. As it was, she was very unhappy to wear the thick bandages around her head that Alex had insisted upon to heal her fractured jaw.

"Sleep well?" Chris asked as he kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Mary nodded since she was under strict instructions not to move her jaw muscles more than she had to.

"You know," he said with a devilish smile. "Its different you not being able to say anything. I can finally get a word in edge wise."

That remark was met with a sharp slap across his uninjured arm as Mary glowered at him. It was not lost upon her that he was taking advantage of her inability to speak. Chris found himself laughing at the scowl across her face.

"Now you’re going to feel really bad when I give you this." He reached into his pocket and produced the same box he had bought at the ill-fated Emporium. Chris had replaced the box and coloured wrapping paper since the previous ones had been crushed during his fight with Saul Willis. He presented it to box to her and delighted in the surprise reflected in her blue grey eyes.

"Consider it a late birthday present." He smiled.

Mary unwrapped the delicate wrapping and was gasped openly at the trinket within. She kissed him tenderly on the mouth after running her fingers over the delicate engraving of a rose on the cameo. It was truly one of the loveliest things she now owned. It surprised her that he was capable of buying such a thing for her and even more impressed by the fact that he had remembered her birthday, even after everything that happened the past week.

"Now," he said with a more serious note to his voice. "Let’s talk about getting married."

Mary stared at him in surprise. How could he expect her to talk about such an important subject when she could barely articulate a word without wincing in agony? Did the man have no sense whatsoever?

"You see," Chris continued. "This is the perfect time to talk it about since you can’t say a word. So if I say, let’s get married tomorrow. You can’t say anything to disagree. I could even say let’s do it in the saloon and all you could do was nod."

"Like hell I will!" Mary boomed and that swore loudly at the pain it caused. She held her face in pain before slapping him across the shoulder again.

"Or I could just tell you that I was joking." He grinned.

Mary narrowed her eyes and steeled herself to endure momentary discomfort for the chance to mess with his head. He certainly had it coming for his obvious enjoyment of her situation. "Yes." She said carefully, not aggravating her injury any more than necessary. "I think you’re right, we should get married."

Chris stared at her. "Really?"

However, she did not respond and instead rose to her feet, wearing a smile as sauntering towards the house. The look in her eyes was one he knew well but surely she would not toy with him on such a crucial question?

"Mary, what did you mean? Were you serious about getting married?" He demanded, impatient for an answer.

She replied with a satisfied smirk and a similarly triumphant gleam in her eyes that told him nothing and was meant to keep him baffled.

"Mary," Chris jumped off the swing and started following her into the house. "This isn’t funny. What did you mean……….?"

THE END

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