The Mag 7 gang doesn't belong to me. MGM is the lucky one. I'm just borrowing them for a short while.
"Hey, kid!" Buck Wilmington yelled.
Chris Larabee looked up from his book to see his old friend bound onto the walkway in front of the jail, a mischievous smile lurking under the ever-present mustache.
"You got your money ready? Think you got enough?" The tall man winked at Chris as he put his hands on his hips and stood just outside the jailhouse doorway. The gunslinger couldn't help the grin that formed along his lips. Buck was at it again. Giving JD Dunne a hard time seemed to be a mission in his life. But Chris knew their growing friendship allowed for such irritations, and when it was all said and done, JD would probably feel very lost if Buck wasn't around to make his life a little miserable. Some lessons were hard to learn, and Wilmington, in his own odd way, had proven to be a pretty good teacher.
"What are you talkin' about, Buck?" JD's exasperated voice sounded from inside. "The barn raisin' isn't until tomorrow." With the last word, the youngest member of the seven appeared in the doorway. "And," a smug grin curved his mouth as he looked down at Chris and then back to Buck, "I don't think I'll need too much money. I'm gonna have enough to get what I want."
A loud bark of laughter shot from Buck as Chris cast incredulous eyes on the kid in the bowler and shook his head. "Overconfidence can be a bad thing, JD."
The younger man's eyes widened in surprise as they darted from one elder to the other. "What?" The single word came as a short, vehement denial of the subtle condemnation visible on both men's faces. "Most people know that me and Casey are.... That we're...."
"You're what?" Buck prodded, a teasing gleam in his eyes.
"That we're.... Well...." JD sighed as he shook his head. "Oh, never mind."
Buck's impatient sigh was even bigger than JD's. "How's everybody supposed to know what you don't seem to know yourself? And what about Tom Wilson?"
"Tom Wilson?" the one-time sheriff scoffed. "What about him? He and Casey are just friends."
"Oh, I don't know." Buck's voice was filled was playful doubt. "He may give you a run for your money, kid."
A thoughtful frown shaded JD's expression, but he quickly shook it off as he dismissed his friend's suggestion. "No. You're crazy, Buck."
"Okay." The taller man sat in a chair next to the doorway. He looked out into the busy main street as he shrugged his shoulders in surrender, a healthy skepticism coloring his tone. "But don't say I didn't warn ya."
When there was no immediate reply, Chris thought the conversation had come to an end, but he should have known better. Just as he switched his attention back to the book in his hands, JD challenged, "And what about you? You gonna be biddin' tomorrow?"
"Oh, yeah. I think Inez is entering a little somethin', and I'm--," Buck raised a hand and pointed a finger at himself. "I'm gonna be there to win it."
It was JD's turn to laugh as he looked down on his determined friend. "When are you gonna learn, Buck? She just don't like you. Plain and simple...she just don't like you."
"No, kid." The older man shook his head, an easy grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "She just don't know me yet. But after tomorrow, when I win her basket at the box-social auction, and she has to have supper with me, I think she'll like what she learns."
Again, Chris smiled. Buck never could take no for an answer, not from a pretty woman anyway. But it appeared as if the self-proclaimed lady's man might be beating his head against a wall this time. Even after he'd foolishly almost gotten himself killed for Inez, the strong-willed woman still refused to give him the time of day. She had thanked him, of course, but didn't seem to feel as if she were too far indebted to him for his act of chivalry. He was fighting an up-hill battle.
"Oh, no," JD countered, an evil smirk on his face as he did a little teasing of his own. "That's when your troubles 'll really start. After she learns more about you."
"Oh, ya think, do ya?" Buck jumped up from the chair and snatched the hat off of the boy's head. "And I think you still need to get rid of this god-awful hat."
As the roughhousing started, Chris noticed Vin making his way across the street. He gave the two wrestling for the hat a sideways glance and a crooked smile as he walked up to the seven's leader. With a nod of his head, the bounty hunter indicated the livery. "You see what just came into town?"
The question halted the good-natured tussling, and all eyes gravitated to the building down the street. Chris's eyes narrowed as he recognized the primly-dressed man getting down from his horse.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm gettin' a little tired of seein' this guy's face in town." Vin didn't try to hide his distaste at the arrival.
"How many times has it been since the trial, anyway?" JD's attitude wasn't much better than Vin's as he spoke, the irritation clear in his voice. "Three...four?"
"This is the third," Chris said quietly as he rose from the chair, his eyes still trained on the man now walking into the barn. A keen resentment tightened his grip on the book as he silently agreed with Vin. James Lightfoot was starting to wear his welcome thin, the reason for the lawyer's visits a very sore spot with Chris. During Obediah Jackson's murder trial, Lightfoot had become smitten with Mary Travis, or so it seemed. Since that time, he'd ridden from Eagle Bend on two previous occasions for the express purpose of seeing the widow. And each time he showed up, Chris felt his dislike for the man grow a little more intense. He hadn't thought he could disapprove of the slimy character anymore than he had at the trial. He'd been wrong.
"You don't think Mrs. Travis really likes him, do you?" JD asked as he looked around the small group. When his sights fell on Chris, the steely frown on the older man's face caused him to rethink what he'd said. "I mean-- That is to say-- Of course, she doesn't like him. What's to like?"
"Ah, kid," Vin tapped JD on the shoulder before shaking his head. "I'd quit while I wasn't too far behind, if I was you."
They all watched in silence as Lightfoot left the livery, a bright smile on his face and a bag in his hand. He next headed for the hotel.
"Well, it looks like he's stayin' the night at least. You don't--," Buck thought out loud. "You don't think he's here for the barn raisin' tomorrow?"
"Can't see him doin' much good with a hammer and nails. I'd say it's more like he's here for the box social," Vin answered.
Jealousy wasn't a word Chris cared to ponder, but he couldn't think of a better reason for the rage simmering in him at the moment. The thought of James Lightfoot and Mary together caused a tight knot to settle in his gut. Not unlike the feeling he'd experienced as he watch the widow with Gerard, her one-time fiancé. Although, as he'd witnessed the affection between the two, it had been more of a dull ache that had plagued him than a hot fury. He'd liked Gerard and knew the homesteader would be good to Billy and Mary. But even so, the idea of seeing her married to another man had hurt him, and, he had to admit, angered him. The idea of Mary with any man was nothing short of infuriating. Any man, that is, except himself.
Oh, hell, the silent resignation sounded in Chris's head. He'd tried to convince himself that all he felt for the beautiful woman was friendship, but when he was honest with himself, he knew it went far beyond friendship.
"Well, why don't we just find out?" The question left Chris as he laid the book on the seat of his chair. In the next second, he was in the street, striding toward the hotel.
"Now, Chris," Buck cautioned as he trotted alongside his friend, Vin and JD not far behind. "Chris, take it easy. You have to be calm about this."
The gunman stopped abruptly, almost causing a collision with the two men walking behind him. Turning his head, he gave Buck the most relaxed, innocent smile he could muster, his voice dripping with civility. "This is just a friendly hello. I'm calm. Don't I look calm?"
"About as calm as a rattler ready to strike."
Chris ignored Vin's pointed observation and resumed his journey to the hotel, his entourage still in tow.
Once inside, his eyes were immediately drawn to the man standing at the reception desk signing the register. Chris looked the lawyer up and down, and JD's earlier question ran through his mind. 'What's to like?' Good question. And an even better one, what did Mary see in this weasel of a man? Chris just didn't understand it.
Straightening from the desk, Lightfoot turned to retrieve his bag, but stopped short as he noticed the small group standing at the doorway. Chris thought he saw a trace of apprehension skirt across the guest's face before an unsteady smile took its place.
"Mister Larabee. Gentlemen." The lawyer addressed the group as he nodded. A strained moment or two of silence followed his greeting before he continued, a little uncertain. "Is...is there something I can do for you?"
"What brings you back to Four Corners, Lightfoot?" Chris cut right to the chase, not seeing any need for pleasantries. They both knew they didn't like each other.
"Well," Buck murmured from behind his friend, "so much for friendly hellos."
"Not that it's any of your concern, but I...I've come for tomorrow's festivities. Thought I'd give Four Corners a hand with its schoolhouse."
Chris's jaw tightened when he heard Lightfoot so much as tell him to mind his own business, but what bothered him even more was the fact that Vin's guess as to why the lawyer had returned seemed to be right. The town council had decided holding a box-social auction while people were gathered at the Hamilton barn raising would be a good way to help raise money for the schoolhouse they one day hoped to build. Apparently, Lightfoot had come to participate. There was no need to wonder whose basket he would be bidding on.
The realization brought the anger surging back to the surface. Chris's hands rolled into rigid fists at his sides as he took a step forward. "Mister, everything that goes on in this town is my concern." Two more steps and he was face to face with Lightfoot, his tone low and menacing as he bit out the next words. "The sooner you learn that little lesson, the better off you'll be."
A hefty satisfaction moved through Chris as he watched Lightfoot take a step backward, some of the color draining from the prosecutor's stricken face. "Is that a threat, Mister Larabee?"
"Threat?" Chris's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "That was no threat. That was just a friendly piece of advice." Smiling, he tipped his hat. "See you at the barn raisin' tomorrow, Lightfoot."
With the promise, the gunman turned and walked out of the hotel. Standing on the walkway, he took a deep breath. That had gone pretty well. He hadn't put his fist in Lightfoot's face, and he'd found out what he wanted to know. The knowledge didn't make him feel any better, but at least now he knew the lawyer's intentions. But he'd known those already, hadn't he? The visit really hadn't been necessary, had it? No, it hadn't. A smile tugged at Chris' mouth as he recalled the look on Lightfoot's face when he'd accused the gunslinger of threatening him. No, maybe the encounter hadn't been necessary, but it had been...fun.
Chris was back in the street before his friends caught up with him.
"So," JD broke the momentary silence, "you gonna be biddin' tomorrow, Chris?"
The question drew laughter from Buck and a simple shake of the head from Vin. It appeared as if both of them thought the question silly. Just JD being his usually naïve self. The two men seemed certain that Chris would be taking part in the auction, especially after what they'd just witnessed. But as Chris thought about it, it didn't seem like such a stupid question.
He barely heard Buck's teasing jabs at JD as he asked himself the same question. Was he going to bid? He hadn't really thought about it until now. An auction like the one being held tomorrow wasn't just about raising money and getting a good, home-cooked meal. It was also about sweethearts and courting and spending time with someone you cared about. At least, that's the way it always seemed to work out. JD and Buck were certainly looking at it that way. Was he prepared to tell the whole town how he felt about Mary, even before he'd told the widow herself? No, he wasn't ready. He wasn't anywhere near ready to tell either the town or Mary. But James Lightfoot? A subtle wave of revulsion passed through Chris. Could he stand by and watch the unsavory character lay claim to Mary's affections without so much as a word?
And...what did Mary want? In the end, the answer to that question should be his only concern--what she wanted, and what would make her happy. Did she welcome Lightfoot's attentions? It seemed as though she did. Chris hadn't spoken to her at all about the man's visits. All he knew was that the lawyer had come back to town twice, both times bearing gifts, and had taken Mary out for an evening meal. There was no reason to think that she didn't appreciate the devotion being shown her. Chris's smile returned. If Mary didn't want Lightfoot hanging around, she would let him know about it, in no uncertain terms.
As Chris climbed the stairs leading to the jail, the grin faded into a deep scowl. Picking up the book, he sat down in his chair. A lawyer was safer than a gunslinger, much safer. No, he didn't know if he was going to bid tomorrow or not.
Chris wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with the bandana he pulled from his pant's pocket. It had turned out to be another hot, July day, and the men of Four Corners had worked through the better part of it. But they had a lot to show for their efforts, and the accomplishment made Chris feel good despite the oppressive heat. He enjoyed working with his hands, building things. He hadn't realized how much he missed it until he'd started working on his cabin.
Leaning down, he plucked a canteen from his saddle as it rested on the ground underneath a group of trees where the horses were tethered. The well was a little too crowded for his taste at the moment, most of the men gathered around it in an effort to ease the thirst and wash away some of the dirt from the hard day. Pulling the cork, he looked over at the fledgling barn as the cooling water bathed his mouth and throat with a welcome relief. The frames for all four walls were now in place, along with the beginnings of the roof. They'd given Hamilton a good start on replacing the building he'd lost to fire almost a month ago, and over the next few weeks the town would help him finish it.
A flurry of activity beside the barn caught Chris's attention. Gloria Potter was directing a few of the men as they set up a table. Once in place, at least a dozen baskets of all sizes and shapes were distributed along the table. It was late afternoon, and the auction was about ready to start.
"Well, pard," Buck walked up to stand beside Chris, an eager smile on his face as he indicated the table with a nod, "looks like we're gettin' to the good part."
Shaking his head, Chris lowered the canteen. "Buck, anybody ever tell you you've got a one-track mind?"
The taller man's smile widened. "Hmm, seems I've heard it once or twice before. But you have to admit, it's an awful nice track to be on."
All the gunman had time to do was laugh before Inez appeared at the table. With a quick pat on Chris's back, Buck scurried off to greet the town's newest resident. Again, Chris could do nothing but chuckle to himself as he watched his old friend run smack up against that wall one more time, Inez barely giving him a second look before turning her back on him and walking away.
The gallop of an approaching horse drew Chris's eyes from the pitifully comic scene. It was Ezra. A few days ago, he and Nathan had volunteered to stay in town. 'Physical labor and I have never had much of an appreciation for one another.' So the gambler had said when asked if he would be going to the barn raising. And although Nathan would have been very comfortable with a hammer in his hand, Chris had gotten the impression he wouldn't feel the same way about the auction. The former slave never said a word against the idea of holding the sale, seeming to accept that it was a harmless enough way of raising money. But Chris had seen something in his eyes that told him Nathan was nonetheless a little uneasy about the whole thing. As a result, the healer and the gambler had both agreed to stay behind and keep an eye on things.
The entire area knew about the barn raising and the auction. With a majority of the town at the Hamilton place, today presented a perfect opportunity for any mischief makers to take advantage of the situation. Ezra's arrival probably meant that the opportunity had been taken. Anticipating trouble, Chris prepared to saddle up. Pulling on his hat, he grabbed his gun from where it hung around his saddle's horn and strapped it to his waist.
Ezra brought his horse to a stop under the trees and climbed down. As he walked up to Chris, he shook his head, correctly reading the stern frown on the older man's face. "No need for concern, Mister Larabee. All is quiet in the fair metropolis of Four Corners."
"Then what are you doin' here?"
"Well, you see," the gambler pulled a flask from his coat pocket and took a drink. "I was persuaded to cut short my leisurely day of tranquility only this morning, as I promised a friend a small favor."
"A favor." Chris eyed the southerner with suspicion. What was he up to now?
"Yes, ah...." Ezra replaced the flask as an uneasy smile crossed his lips. "I'm really not at liberty to go into it, but--"
"Ezra," Josiah joined the two men, "I see you made it. You're just in time."
The relief on Standish's face was plain to see as he tipped his hat in quiet gratitude to Josiah. "So it would seem." Glancing around, he took in all the activity of the day. "Everyone has been busy. And it would appear the ladies have been as hard at work as you gentlemen. Not only do the baskets look inviting, but the meal for those who don't participate, or who have the misfortune of not being victorious, also looks delectable."
The subject had effectively been changed. However, that didn't stop Chris from wondering what Ezra was up to. The man always seemed to have an angle, and the seven's leader was always alert to the fact. Even though Ezra had proven himself a valuable member of the group, and Chris's doubts about his loyalty had waned over the last year, he still couldn't keep himself from questioning many of the southerner's actions.
Let it go, Larabee, Chris silently admonished himself. Whatever Ezra was up to this time, it was more than likely harmless. He was doing someone a favor, after all. How bad could it be?
"Well, if you're stayin' here, Ezra, I'm gonna head back to town. I don't want to leave Nathan by himself." Chris turned to collect his saddle, but stopped short of picking it up as he caught sight of Mary Travis, the shadow of James Lightfoot dogging her as she made her way to the auction table. Chris felt another stab of jealous anger slice through him as he watched Mary laugh at something the lawyer had just said to her. They looked so at ease with one another, so comfortable together, it hurt. It hurt like hell.
God, she looked beautiful today, her loose hair reflecting the brilliance of the sun in a golden wave over her shoulders, her blue eyes alight with an easy happiness that made her shine from within. Beautiful. Chris's thoughts slowed. How many times today had that same thought run through his head? A reluctant grin tugged at a corner of his mouth as he considered the question. Every time he'd set eyes on her. They hadn't spoken, both busy with their respective duties, but he'd been conscious of her from the moment she and Billy had arrived, catching glimpses of her every now and then when he looked up from his work or stopped to get a drink. They'd made eye contact only once. She'd offered him a nod and a pleasant smile. He'd simply returned the gesture before resuming his work on the barn, his body betraying him like an inexperienced schoolboy's. Yes, she looked beautiful today. Had there ever been a day when she hadn't?
Chris's gaze followed the couple as they reached their destination, the pain joined by an intense longing. He never thought he'd envy Lightfoot anything, but at this very moment he begrudged the lawyer a great deal. Not the least of which was the expression on Mary's face as she looked at the outsider. To have her look at him with such untarnished delight would be the answer to a secret prayer. Lightfoot didn't know how lucky he was.
"Ah, there's no need for you to go back to Four Corners, Chris." Josiah stepped forward and placed a friendly hand on the younger man's arm, his eyes trained on the scene that had halted Chris's movement. "After I've had some of that delicious food," the preacher nodded toward the front of the Hamilton home where a steer turned on a spit and another table sat, loaded with any number of dishes, "I'm going to go back to town and see how Nathan's doing. You stay here. Enjoy the auction."
Closing his eyes, Chris broke the spell that momentarily held him, Josiah's words helping to pull him from his musings. He turned to look at the preacher, and confronted an unexpected understanding in the kind, blue eyes that stared at him over an encouraging smile. It was as if Josiah had heard every thought that had just run through Chris's head. But he knew mind reading was beyond the former priest's grasp. Or, was it? The blatant comprehension on the big man's face made him wonder for a moment, before a more rational possibility suddenly became clear. Was he so obvious? Were his feeling for Mary so easily seen? Apparently so. A tiny stitch of panic wove through the back of the gunman's mind at the realization of discovery.
Buck, Vin and JD seemed to know how special the widow had become to Larabee, his actions yesterday doing little to contradict their belief. He'd even gotten the impression that Nathan and Ezra weren't completely blind to his affection for Mary. A half-smile twisted the gunman's mouth. Evidently, he hadn't been as successful at hiding it as he'd thought. During his first days in Four Corners, he'd done a fairly good job of it. But lately, Chris had let his guard slip. A look here, a touch there. He hadn't even thought about them at the time. But now.... Was it such a surprise that the men in whose hands he placed his life everyday should be sensitive to him? And had it really been so difficult to see?
The half-hearted smile broadened, a quiet thank-you for the understanding. But thinking he'd maybe been a little too obvious, Chris shook his head. "No, Josiah. You stay and enjoy yourself."
As he hoisted the saddle off the ground, he heard an elated, young voice call his name. "Chris!"
He stopped to watch Billy Travis run up to the small group, a big grin spread across the freckled face. If there was another person in Four Corners who vied with Mary for Chris Larabee's affections, it was the little boy standing in front of him. The innocent devotion shinning in his young eyes never failed to astonish the gunslinger. He was warmed by it. He was humbled by it. He was frightened by it. He was thankful for it.
"Ma said when you were done workin', I could come over and say hi. Are ya done?" The smile vanished as Billy's attention fell to the saddle in Chris's arms. "You're not leavin', are ya?"
The bitter disappointment in the youthful face tugged at Chris's heart.
"Of course, he's not leaving, young man," Ezra spoke before Chris had the chance. Stepping forward to place a friendly arm around Billy's shoulders, the gambler looked meaningfully at his leader. "Mister Larabee had considered returning to town, but has since changed his mind. He wouldn't think of leaving before he's had the opportunity to spend a little time with you. As a matter of fact, I'd venture to say that Mister Larabee would be the last person in this world, aside from your lovely mother, who'd disillusion you by running off right now." Ezra's brows lifted in emphasis, his voice tinged with an unmistakable challenge as he continued to eye Chris. "Wouldn't he?"
Yes, he would. The last person. As Chris silently agreed, a subtle anger rose in him at the implication of Standish's words. He wasn't 'running off'. But then again.... The temptation and consequence of the auction loomed before him. Maybe he was.
Damn it, Ezra, He cussed in amazement as he stared daggers at the con man. Sometimes you're just too honest for a person's own good.
With a defeated sigh, he dropped his saddle on the ground. Very quickly and very effectively, his mind had been changed for him by two of the best manipulators he had ever come across. Billy, of course, didn't have any idea of his affect on Chris. Ezra on the other hand....
"No." Chris smiled down at Billy. "I'm not leavin'."
And as he lifted the delighted child in his arms, he wondered if this was another decision he was going to regret.
End Part 1