| When Gunfighters Grieve By Aussie Lass Part Ten
********** The four men who had survived the confrontation with Four Corner's regulators were crowded into one cell. Two were wounded. The sheriff of Brenton eyed his prisoners and began to curse under his breath again. He was not a happy man. He didn’t appreciate having his town the scene of a gun battle. He would prefer to release his prisoners and send them on their way. Waiting for the judge was a waste of time. “We need a doctor!” one of the men howled. “He’s been sent for,” the sheriff snarled. “Larabee’s men attacked us,” one of the other men claimed. “You ain’t got no right to be arresting us.” Sheriff Turner’s eyes narrowed. That could be just the loop hole he was looking for. “Is that so?” “Yeah. We were just walking by that hallway and they started firing on us.” “I see. Well, that...” At that moment, Josiah and Ezra burst into the office. “You murdering bastards!” Josiah bellowed. The huge preacher lunged at the cell. The occupants huddle together in the back trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the enraged bull of a man who had his arm thrust through the bars trying to snare one of them. “These men must be charged with murder!” Ezra claimed. The gambler’s face was almost completely blank. “Now, wait a minute,” Sheriff Turner stated, appealing for calm. “Ain’t no murder. You were all firing on one another. That’s a fair gun battle in my eyes.” “Ezra, get the keys. I’m gonna tear these fellas limb from limb.” “Now, hang on a minute,” the nervous sheriff stated drawing his gun. “You just settle down there, mister.” “Settle down! These murdering bastards killed four of my friends! Hell, if Buck don’t make it, that’ll be five!” “Calm down, Josiah,” Ezra soothed. “Not until I’ve avenged Chris Larabee’s, Vin Tanner’s, J.D. Dunne’s and Nathan Jackson’s murders!” “Alright, that’s enough! Into the second cell,” Turner ordered Josiah. “What?!” “Get in there and cool down for a bit. What about you, Standish, am I going to have to lock you up as well?” “No, Sir. I am quite in control.” The sheriff and gambler glared at each other. They had had several run-ins in the past few days. Ezra’s plan to buy some time depended on his understanding of Brenton’s sheriff. Turner was a lazy man. Standish was sure that the lawman would release the prisoners within a few hours. All he and Josiah had to do, was speed up the process. Josiah was ushered into the second cell were he instantly lunged at the man closest to him. “He’s crazy!” “What do you intend doing with these four miscreants?” “Can’t see no reason to hold them. It was a gunfight and men get killed in gunfights. That’s not murder.” Ezra suppressed a smile. Josiah exploded with a roar of unadulterated rage! Ezra stepped up to the bars and attempted to pacify his companion, while Sheriff Turner unlocked the other cell. “I want you fellas out of town in ten minutes. In fifteen, I’m setting him free!” “You murdering bastards!!” Josiah shouted as the four assassins ran from the room. Instantly, Josiah’s face relaxed. “How was that, brother?” “Very convincing, Mr. Sanchez.” “What the hell is going on?” Turner demanded, staring from Ezra to the calm face of Josiah. “Let’s just say that we want them to run back to whoever hired them.” The sheriff nodded. “I see. So the two of you will be leaving?” “In a couple of hours. Now, if you wouldn’t mind releasing my associate, we will remove ourselves and allow you to return to your busy work.” “I can’t let him out.” Ezra Standish’s gun flew into his fist. “Clearly, you misunderstood me. It wasn‘t a request.” ********** “Nathan?” Larabee asked a the pair had moved to the hallway. “You want my opinion?” the healer asked. Chris nodded. “Well, Buck’s okay. He didn’t lose much blood but he really shouldn’t be riding today.” Larabee’s brow furrowed with deep consideration. “And Vin?” “If you want the truth, we should book a room here for a week. He’s not good. Oh, he’ll deny it, but he’s ill. Probably got on that horse and rode back to us while he was barely conscious. Damned if I know how he made it.” Chris nodded, glancing in through the open doorway. Buck appeared to be sleeping soundly on the bed. Vin was on the chair under three blankets. “He isn’t going to be strong enough for the fight, Chris. Hell, I don’t even know if he’ll make it on horseback.” “They’re coming,” Larabee stated softly. He couldn’t leave them behind. Were it any of the others, then maybe he could, but Vin and Buck were the closest thing to family Chris had. They had a right to be with him when he faced Gordon. After all, it could well be his last battle. Strange, that had never worried him before. Now, it did. Now, he consciously preferred life to death. He had a reason... several reasons to go on. Chris released a deep breath. If he was going to die, then he wanted Buck and Vin to be there for him. Was that selfish? he wondered. Perhaps he should leave them, but then, they wouldn’t stay anyway. “We all go together,” Chris repeated. “I ain’t gonna argue with you, Chris, but I reckon it would be better if we left the two of them here.” “We’re coming,” Buck rumbled from the bed. “Ya need us anyway,” Vin agreed. “I thought you two were asleep?” “Can’t sleep with you two jabbering away over there.” “Chris, Gordon’s already shown he ain’t prepared to follow the code. No telling what he’s gonna do when you show up. You’re gonna need back up,” Vin insisted. Larabee glanced at Nathan and then back at his two determined friends who were both climbing to their feet. “You both feel strong enough to ride? We can build a litter if you need it.” “We’re fine,” Vin answered. Nathan shook his head with disgust but he knew he was destined to lose any argument at this stage. Perhaps he could convince Chris to at least leave Vin outside of Haxby Spread. He’d be close if anything happened to Larabee and he’d be safe and able to rest. As Nathan watched Vin begin packing up his bedroll, he shook his head. ‘You’re not joining us for the battle, Vin. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure Chris understands how flamin’ sick you are, you stubborn sonofabitch!’ The thoughts remained locked in Nathan’s mind but they would become words shortly. “Alright, let’s go.” ********** Haxby Spread was crowded. People were pushing and shoving to get the best possible view of the street. Frank Gordon had been out there pacing for several hours. It was now almost three o’clock in the afternoon. Before lunch, Gordon had received word that Larabee was dead. The shooters his men had hired had been successful. Apparently, there were only three of the Seven left. Three were no threat to his men. “What time is it?” Gordon yelled loudly to one of his men. “After three, Mr. Gordon. He isn’t coming, Sir. Larabee has chickened out. He doesn’t want to face you.” The words were yelled for the benefit of the impatient crowd. “You could well be right,” Frank Gordon agreed. The crowd of on-lookers began to mutter. People had come from far and wide to see this gunfight. They had bet large sums of money. If Larabee didn’t show, Gordon would be declared the winner by default. Another half and hour flew by. “It would appear that Mr. Larabee has decided not to show,” Gordon announced to the crowd. “Larabee was once a great gunfighter, but he has lost his edge. He fears me and...” Something at the end of the street was drawing the crowd’s attention. Gordon followed the line of his audience’s vision. His eyes narrowed and then his jaw dropped. Riding toward him slowly were six men. In the centre of the group was Chris Larabee. Gordon shot an angry look at the man who had assured him that Larabee had been taken care of. The crowd started to cheer but thought better of it. The harshness in the faces of the six men entering town suffocated the onlooker’s need to celebrate. Silence blanketed the street. The only sound was the fall of the horses’ hoofs. Larabee stopped when he was twenty feet from Gordon. “We have some business,” Chris snarled. His voice was soft, but lethal. “I thought you weren’t coming,” the other gunfighter stated confidently. “I was delayed.” That was the truth. Vin had become weak in the saddle and the men had ended up having to stop several times on the journey. Then Nathan had laid things out very clearly when they were less than a mile out of town. “He’s ill. Now if you fellas are all too stupid to see that, let me lay it out for you. He can barely sit in that saddle. The last thing...” “Nathan...” “Shut-up, Vin. I’ve held my tongue long enough. I know you think we need a sharpshooter above, but you’re not capable of doing any climbing.” Nathan turned to his leader. “Chris, he needs to stay here!” Larabee and Tanner exchanged a glance. Vin nodded and silently climbed from the saddle. “Good luck, Cowboy.” The young man’s face was gray again. His breathing was labored as his lungs battled to do their job. His ribs were sore and bruised from where Buck had fallen on him. Vin and Chris’ eyes remained locked together. Their friends knew a lot was being exchanged. Then, without a word, Chris urged his horse forward. The other regulators followed him. “Are you ready?” Gordon demanded, waiting for Larabee to make the first move. “Almost,” Chris replied. The men beside him dismounted. J.D. walked up to his leader’s horse and waited. Larabee dismounted and handed the reins to the youth. Four Corners’ sheriff led all of the horses off the street. Some of Gordon’s men strode out to stand beside him. Others remained among the crowd. Several were on horseback at the end of the street. They were experienced in this type of situation. On most occasions their boss didn’t need assistance. However, there had been times when he had come up against men who he felt just may be faster than he was and so they had a back-up plan. Today, it looked like Frank wanted them to use it. “Tell your men to step down. This is between you and me,” Chris ordered in a hushed voice that echoed throughout the town. “These men simply ride with me, Larabee. I don’t tell them what to do.” “Boys.” On their leader’s signal, the other regulators stepped up beside him. “You would do well to tell your men to step down. They are not in our league,” Ezra stated with such confidence that most found they believed him. “You’re outnumbered,” the man beside Gordon growled. “Not for long.” Gordon continued to stare into Chris Larabee’s face. This was not the man he had seen at his cabin. This was the Larabee he had seen in the past. “Alright, Larabee. Boys, go on.” Gordon’s men started to move. “Hang on a minute,” Buck barked. He approached one of the men facing him, thrust out his hand and began clicking his fingers impatiently. “Come on, hand ’em over.” The other man glared at Buck wildly. Gordon nodded and so the thug unbuckled the gun belt he was wearing and handed them to Buck. Wilmington walked back to Chris and handed the belt and revolvers to his leader. “I believe these are yours, Chris. Reckon you‘ll be needin‘ them today.” Josiah walked up to one of the men on horse back. “Brother, get off that horse!” Ezra pointed to another man. “Those boots do not belong to you, delinquent. Remove them or I will be forced to ventilate your skull.” Nathan retrieved Larabee’s rifle from another of Gordon’s men. J.D. walked up to a man in the crowd. “You’re wearing Mr. Larabee’s hat. Hand it over!” J.D. did not sport the Larabee glare, but the intense stare he was giving his opponent was damn near close. One by one, Chris’ things were retrieved. All that had been wrong was being corrected. “Alright, Gordon. Let’s get this over with,” Chris snarled. Frank Gordon stared into Larabee’s hard green eyes and realized he was looking at hell itself. Gordon swallowed. Ezra smiled. Chris was out-psyching his opponent. That was a skill the other man couldn’t match. Frank Gordon flicked his eyes to a person he had strategically placed in the crowd. A man standing behind Larabee’s right shoulder. Time to put plan ‘B’ into effect. He’d used it several times in the past. The shooter standing behind his opponent took him out claiming that they had an old disagreement. Gordon didn’t lose face and his opponent was dead. Gordon nodded every so slightly. The man in the crowd slowly drew his gun, a grin of satisfaction lighting up his face. He had hoped that it would come to this. Killing Larabee truly was a feather in his cap. Slowly the assassin leveled his gun and aimed it at Larabee’s head. There was a shot. All eyes flashed skyward. Vin Tanner lowered his rifle. “You boys better keep yer hands away from yer guns!” The man who had pulled the gun grabbed at his bleeding hand. A single curse echoed out of Nathan but there was no time for berating his patient. There would be plenty of time for that later. Another of Gordon’s men raised his rifle, Vin Tanner fired knocking the weapon from his hands. “I ain’t warning ya again! Next time I hit between yer eyes.” There was silence for several seconds. Larabee‘s men had all drawn weapons and were marking the people around them. A semi-circle of defence around their leader. “This is supposed to be a contest between Mr. Larabee and Mr. Gordon. We agree to remain out of it if everyone else does,” Ezra announced. “Unless of course, you don’t feel you are fast enough to face Mr. Larabee, Gordon.” The crowd began to mutter. “Everyone stand down, that’s an order!” Gordon shouted. He was losing face with his audience and he couldn’t afford for that to happen. Like Chris, he a reputation to protect. Chris nodded and his men holstered their guns. All except Vin who lowered his rifle but continued to survey the street below him. Ezra, Josiah, J.D., Nathan and Buck moved to the side of the street. Everyone became still. Larabee’s hands hung at his sides. He glanced up at Vin. Their eyes met briefly but there was no message. Chris flicked his eyes to Buck. The big scoundrel nodded his encouragement. Chris turned to Gordon. “Draw.” Time slowed. Gordon and Larabee stood facing each other. Chris’ ice green eyes were calm. Gordon’s brown were wide with fear. Gordon’s hand grasped for his gun. Larabee drew and fired. Their was a collective gasp from the onlookers. Frank Gordon's gun had not even cleared the holster. Vin Tanner physically sighed his relief. He had never doubted his best friend’s ability, but in the back on his mind there had been the slightest trace of fear. Thank, God it was all over. Nathan rushed forward and examined the fallen man. “He’ll live. Someone should call a doctor.” “Anyone else here to try their hand today?” Chris asked in that lethal voice that could rip the skin off a rhinoceros. Those gunfighters who had indeed come to town to draw against him, melted back into the crowd. “Spread the word,” Chris ordered. “Alright, all of you people, go away!” Buck bellowed. The crowd obeyed immediately. No one wanted to upset Larabee or his men. “See, what did I tell you. I wasn’t worried for a minute.” Wilmington was beaming a smile that echoed his relief. Chris glanced at Buck and scowled. “Vin Tanner, I swear to God I’m going to kill you!” Nathan declared, spotting the sharpshooter trying to lower himself down onto a set of stairs. He had climbed to the ground but had quickly found standing too difficult. “I told you stay under that tree and wait for us to come and get you.” “Not what Chris asked me to do.” “What?” Vin shrugged. To appease Nathan, he had decided not to argue, but Chris had signaled him to follow and so he had done so. “Damn. I should have known you hadn’t put up enough of a fuss. What the hell did you think you were doing climbing up onto that roof in your condition? Hell! Look at you!” Vin glowered at Nathan. His friends began to crowd around him. “You don’t look good, Vin,” J.D. whispered. “Someone go and hire us a room here. I need to get him to bed before he collapses.” “We can’t stay here,” Buck argued. Chris never stayed in the night in a town where he’d had a gunfight. “Well, we haven’t got much choice. Look at him. You can’t get up, can you? You’re so weak, I bet there’s no way you could get to your feet right now.” Tanner’s face lit up with a mixture of annoyance and anger. Chris, who had been speaking to the local sheriff, now approached his companions. His and Vin’s eyes met. I need a hand up, Cowboy. Vin reached out for his best friend’s arm. Chris took it and pulled Vin to his feet. Tanner shot Nathan a self-satisfied look. “You lose.” “Everyone okay?” Chris asked. His men nodded. “Vin needs to rest before he falls down in a heap,” Nathan complained. He was sick of being ignored. “Boys, we’ll need a litter for him. We can’t stay here,” Chris stated. Buck smiled. “Told yas.” “Boys...” Chris made eye-contact with each of his companions. “Thanks.” ********** Twenty minutes after Chris had effectively retrieved all of the tangible and non-tangible items that had been taken from him by Gordon and his mob, the regulators were preparing to leave. Chris’ favourite horse was saddled with his saddle and ready to go. Vin was settled on litter attached to the back of Peso. Chris crouched beside his pale friend. Vin looked like shit. Okay? Yep. Chris lifted his eyes, surveyed his men and contemplated how lucky he was he had friends the likes of them. Buck had used his own body to protect Vin when he had seen the bullet coming. Ezra and J.D. had stepped onto that balcony to draw their enemy’s fire without thought for their own safety. Nathan had been there to patch up Buck and to ensure Vin continued on the road to recovery - despite the interference of the odd gun battle. Josiah had raced out into the hall intent on stopping the strays so that they couldn’t endanger the team. Vin, as sick as he was, had insisted on standing with Chris when he faced Gordon. All of the boys had stood with him. Chris Larabee knew he was a fortunate man to be riding with men such as these. The gunfighter patted Vin’s arm. The action held a great deal of emotion. Vin smiled. “Reckon we should head home, Cowboy.” “Sounds good to me,” Chris agreed. He turned to the rest of his men. “Alright boys, let’s get the hell out of here.” The gunfighter squeezed his best friend’s arm, rose to his feet and moved to his horse. As he did so, he watched and listened to those around him. Ezra was grumbling about this town looking quite profitable and that if Chris wasn’t in such an all-fired hurry to leave, he would be able to part some of the fools here from their money. Josiah was preaching about the dangers and ills of greed. Nathan had moved in to fuss around Vin which caused his patient to curse loudly. Buck and J.D.... “Don’t you reckon we could get something to eat before we go. I’m hungry!” “You’re always hungry!” “Am not!” “Are too!” Chris Larabee snorted. The grief that had consumed six of the seven gunfighters had vanished without a trace. Everything had returned to normal. “Should you continue to insult my good character I will be forced to retaliate!“ “Is that so, Brother.“ “Just, drink it, Vin!“ “Drink it yourself!“ “Can’t we take a few minutes to grab something to eat?“ “A few minutes. It’ll take us an hour to find enough food to fill you, J.D.“ “Shut-up, Buck!“ Chris smiled. The smile was not coming from his face muscles but from the recesses of his soul. “Boys, let’s go home.” Happiness.
You can drop me a note here.  © May 2001 Brigitta B. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to the owners of “The Magnificent Seven” and I thank them sincerely for turning a blind eye so I can borrow them. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while. |
