"Nathan! Nathan, you got a minute?" Buck called to his friend who was passing.

"Sure, Buck. What’s up?"

"I need your opinion on something. You like poetry?"

Nathan shrugged. "Some," the healer conceded, leaning back against the verandah post.

"Good. Tell me what you think of this." Buck straightened his hat and stretched his jaw round and round several times. Sitting up straighter, he glanced at Nathan and then down at his emerging masterpiece. "When the most beautiful flower opens its petals, it is trying reproduce your beauty. When a nightingale sings on a spring morning, it is trying to imitate the sound of your voice. When a waterfall cascades down the side of a mountain, it is trying to copy the sheen on your hair on a sunny day... that’s it so far. What do you think? "

"It’s good, Buck."

"Good. Just good?" The scoundrel asked, crestfallen.

Nathan shrugged. "Is this for the poetry competition?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you’re off to a good start."

"But just good. It don’t move you powerfully?"

"Yeah, it’s good."

"You don’t look real sure," Buck insisted.

"No, no, it’s good."

"But... I can see there’s a but coming. Is it better than Vin’s?"

"Ohhh, so that’s what this is all about?" Nathan asked, a grin appearing on his face.

"What what’s all about?" Buck asked innocently.

Nathan smiled and watched as a gaggle of women - everyone from Casey to old Mrs. Johnstone - raced along the side of the street about six paces behind the team’s tracker who was moving more swiftly than Nathan had ever seen him move.

"Well, Vin’s poem is... it’s him. It reflects him in every word. He’s talking about who he is and he bares his soul. That’s what makes it so powerful and that’s why all them ladies find it so attractive."

"Yeah?" Buck asked, hanging on every word.

"Yeah. You gotta write something that reflects you, Buck."

"Okay, okay, thanks Nathan," Buck cried, scribbling out what he had written and jotting down some notes.

**********

Josiah Sanchez looked up as Vin burst into the church and closed the doors behind him. The young man paused, his forehead coming to rest against the rough timber.

"The doors of God’s house are always open, Brother." Vin jumped. He had thought the room was empty. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You alright, Vin?"

Vin Tanner sighed and then nodded. "I don’t know what’s got into them. As soon as I move they..." He shook his head. Miss Milly and her friends were one thing, but there were mothers and some grandmothers out there now. Hell, even Inez was looking at him strangely... not that that was such a bad thing, come to think of it.

Josiah nodded. "The pen is mightier than the sword." Vin’s eyes widened. Josiah smiled. "You’ve got a powerful lot of things inside you, Vin. Don’t be embarrassed to reveal them. A man who is at peace with himself is at peace with the world."

"I never meant for..."

"For anyone to know," Josiah guessed. He understood. Vin had just wanted to stand back and watch the reaction. He liked the fact that people liked his poem but he hated the fact that they knew he had written it. Accolades had never been the reason behind his writing. He had just wanted to express himself. "A man must take the consequences for his actions, Brother. You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest. Reckon you deserve everything those fine ladies have in mind," Josiah chuckled.

"Thanks a whole hell of a lot, preacher." With friends like this, who needed enemies?

**********

"Howdy, Buck," J.D. greeted.

"Land sakes, boy. Don’t sneak up on a body like that. Give a man a heart attack."

"Whatcha doing?" the youth inquired, stepping up beside the table and reading over Buck’s shoulder.

"I’m trying to write something that reflects me."

"Why?" J.D. asked.

"Because, I want to! You got a problem with that?"

J.D. blinked and shook his head. "Nope."

"Okay, maybe you can help me. You agree that I have a way with the ladies?"

J.D grinned. "Yeah, Buck, I agree with that." At that moment, Vin exited the church and began to make his way down the street. Several ladies called out to him. Others waved. Still others appeared out of shops to watch and discuss him.

"Remember about the apple pie this afternoon, Mr. Tanner," Gloria Potter called.

"Will you look at that," J.D. cried, his jaw hanging open.

"I’m lookin’. I’m lookin’!" Buck muttered.

"I don’t know what Vin’s doing but he’s doing it well," J.D. commented, watching as his fellow peace keeper tried to side step Miss Milly and Miss Abby, but the two women countered his move and began to engage him in conversation. Buck snorted.

"J.D. J.D.! I’m talking to you boy."

"Sorry. So what do you reckon has got into all them ladies?"

Buck huffed and handed the youth the paper. "Hero’s Heart."

J.D. read the poem. "Hey, this is good. Do you know who wrote it?" Buck inclined his head toward Vin.

"VIN?! Vin wrote it?! You got to be kidding. This is really, really good."

Buck grimaced. "Now, getting back to you helping me. You agree that I have a way with the ladies?"

J.D’s brow furrowed as all of the pieces suddenly fell into place. "You’re trying to write a poem?"

"Shhh. Hell, why don’t you shout it, boy. They didn’t hear you in God damn England!"

J.D. was smiling from ear to ear.

"Now, what the hell are you grinning at, boy?"

"You’re jealous."

"I am not! I just find the need to use words to move people powerfully."

"Whatever you say, Buck."

"Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Okay. What can I do?"

"Well, usually, I have a way with the ladies, but I can’t work out what it is exactly that I have that attracts the ladies."

"Your animal magnetism?" J.D. asked, trying not to smile.

"Exactly. Exactly, but what is it exactly? What is it that ladies find so attractive about me?"

"How the hell would I know, Buck? I ain’t no lady."

"Yeah, but it you were, what would it be?"

J.D. glared at Buck.

"No, I don’t mean pretend you’re a lady, I mean think the way a lady does."

"Well, I guess ladies like you because you treat’m nice. And it’s because you’re kinda bright and animated. When you see a lady, I declare, Buck you just glow all over."

"Glow," Buck repeated, scribbling that down beside Nathan’s suggestions. "Thanks, J.D."

**********

"Hey, Ezra!" Buck bellowed. The Gambler stopped and scanned the street trying to locate whoever it was who had rudely shouted his name all over town. He spotted Buck waving at the end of the street, shook his head with mock disgust and then made his way to the newspaper office.

"You bellowed?"

"Yeah, I want you to listen to this and give me your opinion."

"And just what is this?" Ezra inquired, trying to see what it was Buck was holding close to his chest.

"It’s a poem."

Ezra smiled. "I see. Feeling a little left out today are we?"

"Shut-up Ezra and just listen." Buck took a deep breath and swallowed. "It is you that provides me with that glow inside me. It is you dear lady that makes me who I am. Without your radiant beauty blinding my eyes, I would not be able to see.... and that’s where I’m up to. What do you think?"

Ezra pursed his lips. "Yes, it is quite good, I’m sure."

Buck sighed. "You don’t like it."

"No, it’s fine," Ezra argued.

"Come on Ezra, help me. Nathan says it’s got to reflect me and J.D. says that I kinda glow around women. So what you think it is that makes ladies like me?"

"To tell you the truth, this is something that I have contemplated on one or two occasions and I have come up with the fact that women like you because you’re obnoxiously cheerful, hopelessly energetic, and never ever morose.

"Morose?"

"Glum."

"Never glum," Buck recorded next to his other friend’s advice. "Thanks, Ezra."

"Any time."

**********

When Vin arrived in the stable to prepare his horse for the journey out to Silver Stone Creek, Chris was already there. The tracker stepped into Peso’s stall without comment. The two men set about checking their animals’ shoes and brushing them down, before throwing blankets and saddles on them. Chris glanced at his friend out of the side of his eye. He could see that Vin’s cheeks were just a touch flushed. By now the tracker had to know that Chris had read or at least heard about his poem.

Abruptly, Vin stopped, turned and glared at his partner. "So, you read it?

"Yeah," Chris grunted, continuing to adjust his bridle.

Vin stood and waited. "Well?" The tracker rolled his eyes with disgust when Chris turned and looked at him blankly. "What did you think?"

Chris started to open his mouth to provide the same response he had given Buck. He didn’t think much of poetry, but in that split second, he watched the layers of defense stripped from the man standing staring at him. Vin had completely exposed his soul.

Josiah had once said to him that every man hides and protects that sensitive bit - a part of himself that he shows no one. That humans spend years adding a little more armor to insulate, hide and protect themselves from showing that single part of their being that they reserve for themselves. Right now, Chris was seeing that part of his best friend.

"I’ve never been one much for poetry, but I liked yours." Vin’s face remained blank, but a true sense of relief and satisfaction touched his eyes. He grunted and went back to the horse. The armor was back in place. Chris smiled. He knew that they would never again discuss this topic and that he would probably never again see Vin so vulnerable - and he thanked God for that. He also thanked God that he and the tracker had shared this single moment . He felt closer to his friend because of it. It had been important to Vin that he liked the poem. That meant a lot.

"You ready?" Chris asked, pulling himself up into the saddle.

"Yep."

"Let’s go. Nice day for a picnic."

"In your ass, Larabee."

**********

"Okay," Buck stated, licking his lips. He had captured Josiah as the preacher had been entering the newspaper office to get his own copy of the paper. "Just listen to this and tell me what you think."

Josiah, raised his hand to stop his friend. "What I think isn’t what’s important, Buck. It’s what you think."

"But I want your opinion."

"You, and only you, can tell if this poem says what you want it to."

Buck sighed, picked up his pencil and scribbled out everything he had written.

"Josiah, I gotta admit, this is harder than I thought it was going to be."

"That’s because you are trying to be something you are not."

"Well, I sure as hell ain’t no poet."

"We all have poetry in our soul. You must write with all that is in you - from the heart."

"Nathan says that I should write something that reflects me."

"And so you should."

"So, Josiah, what is it that makes me good with the ladies?"

"It seems to me that you have a quality that makes women feel special. When a woman is downhearted, they need to be spiritually lifted. You do that. "

"Downhearted.... yep, thanks Josiah."

Half an hour later, J.D. wandered up to his friend. Buck was hunched over the pad, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as a sign of his intense concentration.

"How’s it going, Buck."

"I just need the last line, but I need something to rhyme with glum.

"Well, um....some, hum, come, plum, drum, dumb, gum, rum, strum..."

"No, no, I got it!" Buck penciled in the final line and smiled with satisfaction.

An hour later, however, Buck was still seated at his small desk. Ezra climbed the stairs and sat down on the other chair.

"Well my literary friend, have you produced a piece of classic poetry that will turn the heads of the ladies in our dear little town?"

"I have decided that too much of a good thing is dangerous. What do the ladies need with poetry from me when they can have me in person?"

Ezra eyed Buck thoughtfully. "That bad huh?"

Buck grinned. "Let’s just say that what I’ve written isn’t quite what I originally had in mind." Buck spotted Vin leading the two carriages back into town. With a wink at Ezra, Buck climbed to his feet and fluttered over to meet Miss Milly and her friends as they returned from their picnic.

"Ladies, the sun has finally come out again. While you were gone, Four Corner’s was dull and empty."

Miss Abby smiled. "Oh, Buck." Actually, they were all beaming at him.

His animal magnetism had returned. "So did you fine ladies have a nice picnic?"

The girls glanced at each other and shrugged. Vin had proved somewhat different to what they had expected. At first, the tracker and his quiet friend had sat together about ten feet from the women. The teenagers had invited the men to join the picnic but discovered that getting Vin or Chris involved in any conversation was about easy as squeezing blood from a stone.

"It wasn’t quite as enjoyable as we had expected." Clearly these ladies were downhearted!

Buck grinned. "That’s because you forgot to invite me!" The girls all giggled.

"Josie pretended to be drowning in the creek, but Mr. Tanner just stood up and called out for her to put her feet down." Buck laughed loudly. Silver Stone Creek was four foot deep at its deepest part, something Vin would have known. Unlike Buck, who would have played the game and rushed into the creek like a knight in shining armor, Buck could see Vin’s reaction. Without a doubt he would have just stood up and in a dead pan voice called calmly, "Put your feet down, Miss. The water ain’t deep."

Ezra watched as Buck escorted his very attentive audience toward the restaurant. Vin watched, shook his head with disgust and then lead the horses pulling the two carriages toward the livery to unhitch them and rub them down.

Standish considered getting up and going to assist his friend, but his eyes were drawn to the pad on the desk. Ezra reached for it and flicked through Buck’s many ramblings until he came to the final one. He read through the poem. Moments later, there were tears streaming down his overwhelmed face, despite his best efforts to control them.

**********

Evening descended on Four Corners. There was a lively crowd in the saloon. Larabee and his men were seated at their table, except Buck who had disappeared with the five young women earlier and hadn’t been seen since.

The batwing doors opened and the scoundrel swaggered in, his face lit up with contentment. Everything was back to the way it should be.

"Have any of you gentlemen heard Buck’s poem?" Ezra asked as the mustached man sank into a chair.

"No, did you finish it, Buck?" Nathan asked.

"Poem?" Vin inquired.

"Please share it with us, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra encouraged.

Buck glanced at Ezra. "You read it?"

"The pad was open on the desk and I happened to glance in that direction. Come on, Mr. Wilmington, please."

Buck sighed. "Okay, but you need to know that this is just a draft." The other men nodded. "Now, I listened to everyone’s advice. About my glow and how cheerful and never glum I am, and how I have this gift of helping ladies when they’re downhearted... and I put all of that together into a poem that I feel reflects me." The other men listened intently. "Once you hear it, I think you’ll understand why I have decided that it is something that shouldn’t be published. I’d be fighting them off with a stick. It would just move people far too powerfully."

Ezra was nodding earnestly. "Brace yourselves gentlemen. Mr. Wilmington is a true wordsmith. A regular Tennyson with the poise and sophistication of Shakespeare. I have no doubt that before long they will add him to the list of fine technicians who have the ability to reduce grown men to tears. Tennyson, Shakespeare... and Wilmington."

Chris glanced at Vin and shrugged. Josiah and Nathan exchanged an impressed glance. J.D. leaned forward in his seat expectantly.

Slowly Buck rose to his feet, cleared his throat, stretched his neck, straightened the front of his shirt and the lifted his arm up in front of him like he was about to present an opera.

"You boys ready?"

"Get on with it Buck," Chris insisted impatiently.

Buck nodded and resumed his stance. "I wish I were a glow worm..." Chris and Vin exchanged a puzzled glance. "‘Cause a glow worm’s never glum... "J.D. Dunne started to frown. "It’s hard to be downhearted... "Chris was shaking his head. "When the sun shines out your bum."

For a split second there was dead silence and then the men erupted into rollicking laughter. The other patrons of the saloon all stopped what they were doing and stared at them - stared with absolute shock at the group of usually rational men who were laughing like jack asses. Of the most concern was the fact that the Seven’s serious and frightening leader was laughing so hard that no sound apart from gasps were coming out of his mouth, tears streaming down his face.

Buck retook his seat. "See," he stated sincerely "I told you you would have a powerful reaction to it."

"Now that’s what I call poetry!" Josiah laughed.

Chris glanced at Vin. "Sorry, Vin, but I like Buck’s better."

Vin grinned, his eyes alive with true mirth. He and his best friend glanced back at Buck and erupted with laughter again.

"Yep, reckon I do too, Cowboy."

Return to "Tennyson, Shakespeare...and Wilmington" Index

Return to "General Old West" index

---

I would really love to know what you thought.
You can drop me a note here.

© Jan 2001 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.