Part Two

"Hey, Chris," J.D. called, his voice high with excitement. He was enjoying himself now. He’d proved his point. He was in the same category as Gavin. He’d waited years for that. And it felt almighty good to actually be better at something than the rest of his team mates. "Chris, care to try?"

The gunslinger’s hand came up, but not his head. That was a ‘no’. J.D. didn’t push. No one ever pushed Chris Larabee.

"Hey, Vin. Your turn." The mass that constituted the tracker didn’t move. "Vin, you awake?"

The body heaved and then the hat was pushed back. Vin squinted at J.D. and then yawned sleepily. "Huh?"

"Ain’t you been watchin? So far only me and Gavin can get a horse to weave through them poles and leap over each of them barrels. Don’t reckon any one of you could. Doubt anyone else in the territory could get their horse to do that, hey Gavin?"

"Why?" Vin asked simply.

"What?"

"Why would you want your horse to be able to do that?" J.D. stared at Vin perplexed. What did he mean, why? Jamie and Liam stepped forward. They could sense they could have some more fun at the backward tracker’s expense. Chris noted the boys’ movement and unconsciously shook his head. Those two idiots had no idea that they were playing with fire. The tracker must have sensed his leader’s concern and so flicked his eyes in Larabee’s direction. The two shared a look that told the Seven’s leader that Vin was in control... and the tracker that Chris felt it was time someone put Four Corners’ visitors in their place.

Buck eyed the two of them carefully. There was the slightest sign of a grin on Larabee’s hidden face. What were they up to?

"Why? Because it’s a skill, young man," Gavin growled. "A difficult skill to master."

Vin looked at the man blankly.

"It might be important that you can get your horse to do something like that," J.D. claimed.

"Oh." Vin shrugged and then pulled his hat down. J.D. considered Vin’s reaction and for the first time pondered the importance of being able to get a horse to ‘dance.’ Out here, he had never used the skill. Shit, the only thing you had to do was ride fast and shoot faster. It wasn’t like any of the dime store novels he had read where a man needed a good horse that could weave in and out of tight spots.

"Well, ain’t you gonna try?" Jamie yelled at Vin.

A long sigh echoed out of the tracker. "Don’t reckon it’s somethin’ I’ll ever need to get Peso to do."

"Oh, come on, Mr. Tanner. Humor us," Ezra laughed.

The hat pushed up as the tracker flicked his sleepy blue eyes from Ezra to J.D. to Buck. Buck, who had so helpfully collected Peso for him.

"You want to do this?" Vin asked his horse. Peso shook his mane. "Don’t look like he’s interested."

Everyone except Brown and his nephews laughed.

"You sit up there and criticize something that you can’t do yourself. What sort of a man are you?" Gavin Brown snarled. Vin turned to look at him. J.D. swallowed. He knew that Vin had been controlling his temper since Gavin, Liam and Jamie had arrived in town. Chris Larabee’s green eyes narrowed.

"I ain’t criticizing’ nothin’, Mr Brown. I jest said I didn’t think that it was somethin’ I’d need Peso to know how to do." There was an uneasy silence and J.D. found himself glaring, not at Vin, but at Gavin Brown. What the hell was Gavin’s problem? Hell, for years J.D. had worshipped the man. Why was he snapping at Vin? Vin hadn’t done anything. All Vin had done was gone out of his way to be friendly and to ignore Jamie and Liam’s sarcastic barbs.

A low voice interrupted the silence. "Reckon I’d like to see you do it," Chris Larabee stated tipping his hat up. His and Vin’s eyes met and Vin shrugged. Buck grinned. Not a word had passed the two men’s lips, but Chris and Vin were definitely up to something.

"So, all I gotta do is get Peso to walk around these poles and jump over the barrels?"

"That’s right, mister," Liam chuckled. Vin grunted, took Peso’s reins from Buck and began to walk between the poles leading the horse behind him.

"No!" J.D. burst out. "No, Vin. Vin!!" But the tracker ignored the boy’s desperate pleas, much to the delight of his laughing audience. Even Chris had a genuine grin on his face. When Vin reached the first barrel, he climbed up onto it and jumped down, Peso leaping over right behind him. This was repeated with the final two obstacles. His friends broke into thunderous applause, even J.D. cracking an amused grin.

"Like that?" Vin asked blankly.

"No, you dumb dust pile!" Jamie snarled, realizing that Vin had just devalued his uncle’s achievement without saying a single word. Buck turned to glare at the young man, but Vin’s face remained calm and apparently oblivious to the insult.

"You been sleepin’ all morning, Brother Vin?" Josiah asked

"Yep."

"So, you didn’t see J.D. and Mr. Brown do it then?" Nathan inquired.

"Nope, why?"

J.D. shook his head with mirth.

"You ain’t supposed to lead the horse with the reins, Vin," Chris chuckled helpfully.

"Huh? Whatcha mean?"

"You ain’t allowed to walk in front of your stupid horse holding the reins!" Brown growled quietly, his face darkening with irritation. And it was then...right then that Buck realized what Chris had put Vin up to. No one alive was as exasperating as Vin Tanner when he refused to get riled. Or when he gave only as much as was needed to participate in a situation. Vin was winning this confrontation with Gavin Brown and his nephews and the dumb shits didn’t understand why. The Brown clan needed to be taught a lesson and Vin Tanner was just the man to do it.

"You ain’t allowed to walk in front of your &*%@ing horse holding the reins," Brown repeated.

"Oh. You never said nothin’ ‘bout that," Vin drawled. J.D. rolled his eyes with amusement.

"Anyone could lead a horse by the reins!" Jamie yelled.

Vin shrugged, walked back to the starting position and ‘dropped’ Peso’s reins. Then the tracker began to walk between the poles again. After a few steps, Vin whistled and Peso plodded after him, weaving beautifully, his muzzle only inches from Vin’s right shoulder.

"No. No Vin that ain’t right, either!" J.D. screamed. Vin stopped.

"Ain’t holdin’ his reins," Vin stated feigning annoyance.

By this time, Ezra who had been seated on the steps of the saloon, was rolling around on the side of the street gasping for breath, his usual composure having deserted him. Josiah’s deep laugh filled the air and Buck was doubled over roaring so hard that there was no sound except a sharp wheezing coming out of his mouth. Nathan’s pearly white teeth glistened in the sun and Chris Larabee sat back and grinned. The gunfighter’s eyes flicked to Brown and his nephews. Their faces were white with rage. Chris’ hand slid down to his holster...just in case.

"No, Vin. No," J.D. cried, his face plastered with a huge smile.

"You ain’t allowed to walk in front of him, you dumb sonofabitch," Liam screamed. Laughter left the Seven. This business of calling Vin names was starting to wear thin. But, Vin still seemed unperturbed. "You can’t lead him by the reins. You’ve got to get your horse to go through the poles without...."

"Alright, alright," Vin drawled easily at Liam. "Calm yourself down there, boy. I reckon I understand now. You fellas got to learn to explain yourselves better." And for the first time, J.D. realized that Vin was teasing. And the youth grinned.

"Come on, Vin," J.D. muttered, evaluating the look of undiluted anger on Gavin’s face. "Cut it out."

"Sorry, pard." And so Vin walked back to the designated starting position. Wordlessly, he raised his hand in front of Peso’s nose and then calmly strode down to the end of the obstacle course. The horse didn’t move.

"What the hell...?" Brown cried. Chris Larabee leaned back in his chair and pulled his hat down over his eyes. The grin that touched his face earlier was replaced by a knowing smile. Ezra pulled himself into a sitting position, a curious look crossing his blue eyes. Josiah, Nathan and Buck exchanged a puzzled glance. J.D. took a step back and sighed. What the hell was Vin up to now?

"What the &*%@ are you doing, you stupid dumb cluck!?" Several hands flashed to holsters, but came to rest on them.

"You said I couldn’t lead him by his reins and that I couldn’t walk in front of him," Vin explained simply. The wily tracker turned away from the Brown clan and then bounced his eyebrows twice in the direction of his team mates. Without another word, he whistled. Peso moved immediately. Unaccompanied, the horse weaved through the poles, not missing a beat.

"What the..!" Ezra exclaimed. J.D.’s mouth dropped open.

"Close your mouth boy, or flies will start landin’ on your tongue," Buck chuckled.

When the horse reached the barrels, it jumped three times in succession and without the slightest hesitation. Finally it stopped in front of Vin and waited to be rewarded. The tracker caressed the animal’s head fondly and then glanced back at Brown.

"Like that?"

A roar of frustration exploded out of Gavin Brown. "No! No, you stupid, dumb bastard. You’re supposed to ride him!"

Vin Tanner’s face creased with the first hint of a smile he had shown all afternoon. "You mean you want me to sit on his back when he does it. What does that prove?"

"You ain’t supposed to just sit there, you dumb sonofabitch. You’re supposed to use your knees to show him where you want him to go."

"Yeah, but he already knows."

Brown’s face turned scarlet. He looked like he was about to explode. Yep, Vin Tanner could be a most exasperating man when he put his mind to it. Buck, Josiah and Nathan erupted again, but not Ezra. The gambler’s ever lucrative mind was flashing. Now, a horse weaving in and out of an obstacle course was something other people would pay to see. Ezra watched Vin first hand Peso’s reins to Buck and then climb the stairs and retake his seat next to Chris.

"Thanks," Chris whispered. Vin’s head bobbed in acknowledgement and then he pulled his hat down over his face.

"Mr Tanner. That was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed a horse do. I was wondering if we could discuss a business venture I have in mind."

"No."

Ezra ignored the muffled response that leaked out from under the hat. "I believe that with your uncanny ability to train horses and my....."

"No."

"But?"

"No."

Ezra sighed. Well, it was worth a try.

Gavin Brown was so furious, that until now, he had been unable to speak. Finally he turned to J.D.

"Boy you really haven’t amounted to anything. Not a damn thing! You’ve got yourself hooked up with the stupidest &*%@ing bastards that I have ever met. You said you was going West to make somethin’ of yourself. This hick town ain’t nothin’. And them fellas ain’t nothin’ either. I tell you, I’m real disappointed in you, boy. This is some way to treat me after all I taught you. Some way to treat three of your friends."

The rest of the Seven waited. Their hands, that earlier had sought their holsters, were now hanging by their sides. Now, it was up to J.D. The young sheriff stared from Brown to his team mates and for the first time, he saw everything with clarity. He saw Buck, Ezra and Josiah making fools of themselves for him. He saw Vin taking insults that normally would not have been tolerated. And he saw Gavin Brown and his nephews for who they were. Three bullies who got their jollies out of putting other people down. Three pathetic men who had read books about the west and thought they knew what it was to be a cowboy.

"You’re wrong. You’ve been wrong about everything, Gavin. First of all, I have amounted to something. I’m the sheriff of this town and I’ve risked my life to protect others. Second, my friends ain’t stupid. Hell, the one man you’ve been calling stupid since you got here just played the three of you like fiddles. Vin may not be able to ride his horse all fancy like you an’ me, but he just showed me that being good at something and looking good are two different things. I said that when it came to horses I had everyone beat. Well, Vin just showed me a thing or two. I was showing off like an asshole and I had no place to." J.D. glanced at Vin and the tracker dipped the brim of his hat to the kid. "You did teach me to ride and to shoot, Gavin, and for that I will always be grateful. You introduced me to the West by telling me stories about it. But you gotta understand that they ain’t stories for me any more. And you said something about the way I treated you with you being my friends and all. You ain’t my friends. You never were. You ain’t never done anything but put me down all my life. You think you’re tough and know what it is to be a ‘cowboy’. Well, you don’t know shit! It ain’t like the dime store novels. There ain’t no romantic endings. No need for fancy ridin’ skills. The West is hard and its dusty and there are only three things that matter out here. Your ability to ride fast. Your ability to shoot fast and accurate. And friends. Real friends who back you up and don’t put you down. You ain’t friends of mine. You’re just chicken shit. And if any one of you insult me or one of my friends again I swear to God I won’t be held responsible for what I do." And with that, J.D. Dunne, a man, not a boy, turned and marched out of the street, all of the Seven following, proudly. All except Vin.

The thoughtful tracker eyed Brown and his nephews carefully. Now was the most likely time for one of these twits to go and do something everyone would regret.

The three visitors to Four Corners were so stunned by the fact that J.D. had stood up to them, they appeared rooted to the spot.

"Let’s go get him," Jaime growled suddenly. He and his brother had belted the shit out of J.D. when they were kids and he felt confident that they could do it now.

"Now, that wouldn’t be real bright," Vin drawled. His intuition had been right....... again.

"Stay out of this, stink weed."

Vin Tanner allowed a smile to cross his face as he picked up his mare’s leg and laid it across his knees in a silent threat. The relaxed, easy-going expression was gone, replaced by a glare that spoke volumes. "Mr. Brown, I’m only gonna say this once so I suggest you and your boys listen real careful. The next stage ain’t gonna be here for another two days. So until then, I suggest that you stay right away from J.D. Because if any of ya even open your mouth around him, I’m gonna fill it with my fist."

"I ought to kill you," Gavin Brown snarled at the young man.

"Now, I don’t know what you’ve read about the West, city boy, but threatenin’ to kill a man out here is a mite dangerous."

Brown regarded the slight man facing him and erroneously decided that Vin Tanner was not someone he had to worry himself about. Real cowboys dressed like that Larabee fella and had pearl handled guns with notches in them. Real cowboys didn’t wear old buckskin coats. Now if it were the quiet fella in black, that would be a different story. Hell, Larabee is the only person that has looked and acted like a cowboy since we arrived in this backward town. Gavin Brown had read and dreamed about the west all his life. And now here he was. Trouble was, he was unable to separate fact from fiction. He was beginning to act like the cowboy he had always wanted to be. "You made a fool of me today, boy"

"No, Mr. Brown. You made a fool of yourself." Jamie’s hand slid down to his pretty little gun. "Boy, unless you use that pea shooter better than you judge people, I suggest you leave it right where it is.

This ain’t the city and it ain’t one of your story books."

"We aren’t going to stand here and let you insult us or steal our friend."

Vin shook his head with disgust. "You don’t amount to shit in J.D.’s life any more. You fellas wouldn’t know what friendship was even if it came up and pissed on your leg."

"And I suppose you do."

"If you really thought anything of J.D., Brown, you never would have got on that horse and tried to beat him this afternoon. All he wanted to do was show you that he had amounted to somethin’. Tried to show you he could ride well because you had taught him to. But you were so blinded by jealousy that you couldn’t see it."

"Jealousy!" Brown thundered.

"Yeah, jealousy. You three fellas are jealous of J.D." It was Ezra who had initially hinted at this fact. J.D. had achieved his dream, something that Brown and his nephews had never had the guts to accomplish. And then when the youth had ridden the obstacle coarse it had become obvious to all that the pupil had surpassed the teacher. "Couldn’t understand why J.D. was so wound up about impressing something as pathetic as you. But I reckon I understand now. You was his teacher and it was important for him to show you that he was a success. And you’re probably the closest thing to a father he had when he was growin’ up. He just wanted you to be proud of him. And you couldn’t see it. You lot think you know what friendship is? Hell! Buck, Josiah and even Ezra were prepared to make fools of themselves for the kid. Even if they could’ve ridden the course, they wouldn’t have." Vin Tanner rarely spoke with such passion. Hell, he rarely strung more than two sentences together at once....but when there was a need for words, he knew how to use them. This was one of those times.

"And you think that what you did proved your friendship to him?"

"Yeah, it did. But that’s not something the likes of you would understand. You and J.D. both needed to be taught a lesson." Different lessons, but still a lesson.

"You’re the one that’s pathetic! I rode my horse because I could," Brown screamed. He’d finally lost it. "I am a damn good horseman. As good as any cowboy. Your friends tried their best and lost. And as for J.D., he ain’t nothing but a stable boy. He was born a stable boy and he’ll die a stable boy."

Vin clenched his jaw, the nerve in his cheek tap dancing for all to see. Anyone who knew the unassuming man recognized that it was a warning sign. Vin Tanner was on the verge of losing his temper. And that was something that didn’t happen often.

Out of nowhere a hand clamped down on Vin’s shoulder and physically restrained him. Brown and his boys had targeted the tracker right from the very beginning. Why? Because Vin was easy going and he was young. His voice was soft and lacked any harshness that may have indicated that he was any kind of threat. So the Brown clan had gone out of their way to get a rise out of him. Only by putting someone else down could they themselves feel important. Only by putting one of J.D.’s friends down could they possibly really hurt the youth. For two days Vin had accepted their barbs and held his temper in check. He had never submitted to this sort of abuse in his life, but he had given his word. Brown’s final insult of J.D, however, had seen the safety valve containing his anger shatter into a million pieces. The sharpshooter’s index finger was flexing rhythmically on the trigger of his mare’s leg, a hare’s breath from setting it off. The only thing stopping him from blowing Gavin Brown away, was his leader’s vice like grip on his shoulder.

Chris Larabee could feel the muscles moving under his hand. He had returned because he had been able to sense Vin's anger earlier. He knew the tracker well enough to know that it would take little for the young man's boiling rage to ignite. Oh, Vin had hidden it well, led Brown and his family on during the obstacle course fiasco, and while the quiet tracker had obviously enjoyed the process of teaching these three outspoken bullies a lesson in his own particular way, that did not change the fact that he was seething.

Chris Larabee waited until he was sure that his friend had regained his usual composure and then the gunfighter eyed the three strangers with an intensity that dime store novelists could never hope to capture. "I suggest you three close your mouths or I might just forget you ain’t cowboys and are just three city boys playing the part."

"And killin’ ya," J.D. added walking along the veranda and stopping directly in front of his former teacher. "Would be more akin to murder because I know now that you don’t know one end of a ‘real’ gun from the other."

Brown and his nephews were slowly going pale. Grouped behind J.D. were the rest of the Seven. Hard men who were no longer prepared to tolerate these three pathetic excuses for men. They were collected to back their young companion as he faced down three demons from his past.

Slowly Vin rose to his feet and stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with the team’s youngest member. Time to show J.D. that he wasn’t someone just because he had the backing of six ‘cowboys’. Time to show him that the six ‘men’ he called friends were proud to stand with him. "Like I was saying, you ain’t welcome in this town, Mr. Brown."

"You better be on the next stage out of here," Buck growled, taking his place on J.D.’s left.

"And until then," Nathan warned, moving into the line.

"Stay away from us," Josiah ordered as he too strode forward to join his team mate.

"And just in case you haven’t realized it yet, Mr. Dunne isn’t a ‘city boy’ any more," Ezra growled positioning himself beside Buck. "And if you believe that to be a man is to be a cowboy, then surely young Mr. Dunne has fulfilled that quest and is a true cowboy, because........ he is a man. More than I can say for you three."

Chris Larabee was the only member of the Seven that had yet to step forward and show his allegiance to J.D. in a physical sense. For long seconds he remained a half a pace behind the line of strength. Chris had never been in favor of the youth joining the group because J.D. .."ain’t the type." That’s what he had said three months earlier and at the time he had believed it vehemently. But Chris was not too proud to admit he was wrong, and wrong he had been in this case. With a growl that started somewhere in the back of his throat, Chris Larabee stepped up, pushed his coat back and laid his hand on his holster. The words that came from gunfighter’s mouth were a harsh whisper, but were well chosen.

"J.D. Dunne is one of us." These six words, more than any others, were what J.D. needed to hear.

"Now get," Four Corner’s sheriff ordered. Brown nodded sharply and then he and his nephews ran, not jogged across to the boarding house where they bolted the door securely from the inside.

"Welcome to the west, boys," Ezra snarled.

J.D. expelled a long deep breath and then turned to face his companions. Nothing he could possibly say would come close to explaining the emotions he felt at that moment. These six men had been prepared, not only to back him up, but to stand beside him. And that support was more important to J.D. than breathing.

"Talk about three assholes," Buck muttered, shattering the stifling silence that had descended upon the group. All seven men smiled.

"Thanks, fellas."

"’Thanks, fellas’! Is that all you’ve got to say? Oh, believe me, Mr. Dunne this is going to cost you."

"Huh?"

"I have the most horrendous hangover and I am placing the blame squarely on your shoulders."

"J.D. weren’t the one putting them brandies away, Ezra. You was," Nathan claimed.

"I would like to contest that accusation. By the way, does anyone happen to know how I got home last night?" Ezra inquired.

"Well, after you stopped dancing on the table with your shirt off...."

"What? I did what?" The men were moving off toward the saloon, all warming to teasing Ezra.

J.D. remained staring at the boarding house door. For the past twenty-one years of his life he had been searching for himself. Maybe today, he had found out who he was.

"Laying demons to rest isn’t always easy." The boy was startled to find Chris standing beside him.

"I thought they were my friends."

"You thought wrong."

"When I was growing up, I dreamed of being like Gavin."

"Then count your blessings that that dream didn’t come true." J.D. glanced at Larabee.

"For the last three months….. I’ve wanted to be like you."

"No, son. The only person you should want to be like, is yourself. You’re a good man J.D. Don’t ever try to be something you’re not."

"Thanks, Chris. I think I understand that now...........Did you mean what you said? About me not being a city boy any more?"

"J.D. most of the time you are nothing more than a royal pain in the ass. You jump into things without thinking, you shoot your mouth off when you should be keeping it closed and the way you talk non stop annoys the &*%@ out of me........but none of that changes the fact that you’re one of us, kid. And anyone who says any different will have me to deal with. Now come on, I need a drink."

J.D. grinned at his leader boyishly. "Did Ezra really dance on top of one of the tables with his shirt off, Chris? I would have loved to have seen that. Can you imagine what....." Chris Larabee tuned the boy’s running monologue out.

A city boy? No, not any more. A royal pain in the ass? Absolutely. One of us, whatever that really meant? Yes. Yes, J.D., against my better judgement, you have become one of us.

".............and I reckon..."

"J.D. Shut up, before I shoot you."

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---

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© June 2000 Aussie Lass. : 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.