Mary Travis wrapped her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders against the cold morning chill. The sun had yet to warm up Four Corners and there was still a dampness from the dew. She glanced toward the saloon, not yet open for the day, and the chill got a little deeper. The curtains were still closed in the room upstairs, as they had been for almost four months. She wondered when the men were going to relent and finally go to pack things up. She also wondered if Inez would let them. Feeling eyes upon her, she looked around to see Mrs. Potter watching. She'd been preparing to open the store for the day, and, now that she had Mary's attention, waved her over.
"I should be getting some deliveries later today, including the ink you sent for. I'll get it over to you as soon as I can."
"No hurry. I still have plenty for this week's paper. Probably enough for the next one too."
"Have you heard anything lately from Mr. Wilmington or Mr. Dunne?"
"No, but I was just on my way to check with Chris for any word. Not that I'm really expecting to hear anything new after all this time."
"They're not giving up on him, are they?"
"Well, they don't want to. But I think the passage of time is beginning to wear on them all." She pulled at the shawl again, and Mrs. Potter took the hint.
"You get on your way then. And if you hear anything at all…" Mary hurried toward the jail house, opening the door quietly hoping Chris was getting some rest since the town had been quiet. Not surprisingly, he wasn't relaxing.
"Morning Mary. Everything okay?" He sat up straighter, pushing aside the papers he been sorting.
"Everything's fine. Just thought I'd check in with you before putting the newspaper together. Doesn't seem to be a lot to report this week, other than Mrs. Dobson's baby and the new ice house being built behind the saloon."
"Got nothing I can add to that." He smiled sadly. "Nothing at all."
"Still hoping to see him show up on a poster?" Mary's tone indicated she thought that was a waste of time.
"At this point, I'd almost be relieved. Running out of places to look for him. And I'm pretty sure I've telegraphed every law man in the country to ask if anyone has seen Ezra."
"Oren's been doing the same." Chris didn't hide his surprise. He knew Judge Travis had expressed his concerns when Ezra disappeared, but had no idea the man was taking an active interest. "He knows that Ezra is important to the town – to the team. He's talking to folks in every town he goes to, and sending a lot of telegraphs too. I take it Maude has been no further help?"
"Further help? She's been none at all. Says he's disappeared any number of times before and eventually showed up again. She doesn't get that he's not that man anymore."
Mary smiled at the clear meaning of the sentiment, but lost the expression as the significance set in. "You think he's dead?" she asked softly.
"Not sure. I know he didn't just take off. Yeah, he was mad at me when he headed out of town to pick up that stuff for the judge, but he wouldn't have just left for good without saying so. Might be pissed off enough to do it to me, but not to the others. And not to Inez."
"Inez?" Mary feigned ignorance, and had the grace to be embarrassed about it when Chris just stared at her. "Well, it isn't like the two of them were keeping company."
"The two of them were just too dense to recognize it. Any fool could see there was something there. Well, almost any fool. Buck still figured he had a chance."
"He never did. Not with Ezra in the picture. Oh, I didn't mean he'd do anything…"
"Relax Mary. I know." Chris sighed deeply. "Next time he and JD check in I'm gonna order them back. This has got to stop."
"You can't be giving up?"
"No, but we're just wasting our time like this. And spreading ourselves too thin. Those two out of town all the time, Nathan doing all the doctoring for miles around and Josiah without much focus on anything outside of that church of his. That leaves me and Vin to do all the law work. Don't mind, but when something comes up, we could be in trouble."
"They won't be happy."
"Course not. None of us are." He slammed his fists on the desk. "It's the damned not knowing." He looked up apologetically. "Sorry 'bout the language." Mary just shrugged, waving it off. She'd heard far worse. "If we knew he'd left us. Knew he was dead. If we knew anything. But like this – what if he needs help? What if he's somewhere counting on us?" He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "What if he thinks we ran out on him? Is that what I'm doing?"
"You're doing what you have to do Chris. You're right, you can't just wander around hoping to run across something. You can't follow a trail that isn't there."
"When I was in that hell hole of a prison, they kept searching."
"They had leads. You followed everything you could, and you'll keep doing that, but you know you've got to do what's right for the town. Isn't that what Ezra would want?"
"He'd deny it with everything in him, and with words nobody else understood, but yeah he would."
Any further discussion was cut off by the opening of the jail house door. Chris moved forward, not sure what to expect, but relaxed on seeing Bob Campbell enter. "Sorry to interrupt you. Morning Mrs. Travis. Got a telegraph from Wilmington. Thought you'd want to see it right off Chris." He handed the paper over and left in a hurry, not wanting to be there when it was read.
"Buck found something. Doesn't say what, but he and JD are coming home."
"What do you think it means?"
Chris's face was grim. "Don't know. But, I think if it was good news, he'd have said."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
the night before
Two men rode into Yorkton, heading first for the Sheriff's office.
"Should update Chris on where we are Buck. He said to check in regular like."
"After we ask some questions here kid. Might as well see if we have anything to tell him."
"How long to you figure until he tells us to come home?"
"Maybe another week, at most."
"We going back?" Buck just shrugged his answer. JD wanted to ask more, but there wasn't much to be said. He'd lost count of the number of towns they'd been in, asking about a gambler in a red coat. They'd checked out every livery, stable, and corral they passed, hoping to find Chaucer. Man and beast had, it seemed, simply vanished. They weren't alone in the search. Vin had been using every contact he'd ever made in the native communities, hoping someone somewhere had encountered Ezra, or at least had heard something about him.
"You talk to the Sheriff kid. I'll get us a couple of bunks for the night." He nodded toward the hotel sign. "We can ask around town in the morning. Meet you in the saloon."
Twenty minutes later they were sipping at their second beers, having made short work of the first. Not surprisingly, the Sheriff had no news for them, and the desk clerk at the hotel was equally unable to offer any insight. Both men ate their dinner without really tasting it, which under the circumstances was probably a good thing. The laughter and activity in the saloon didn't suit the mood they were in. JD couldn't remember the last time they joined in on a poker game. Then he realized it was probably because they hadn't. Not once since they'd started their quest. They'd talked to the players, but never sat down to a hand.
Now, as they finished up the stew, they could hear the chatter that meant a game was setting up behind them. Buck sighed to himself. He didn't really want to ask, because he become far too accustomed to the answers. Some of the players knew Ezra, none had seen him. And all of them wanted Buck to either ante up or leave them alone.
He stood, JD following a beat behind, and turned to the table. He froze in place, eyes going black. Four men sat at the table ahead of them. Three of them almost disappeared from his sight as he focused on the fourth. A big man, scruffy looking with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing us a once brightly coloured sarape. Everything about the men seemed foul, and how anyone could stand to be at the table with him was a mystery. But none of that was what drew Buck's attention. It was his hat. Buck couldn't take his eyes off the man's hat. No, not his hat. Ezra's hat.
"You think there could be more than one of those out in these parts?" JD had immediately focused on it as well.
"Doubt it. And it sure as shit ain't his style." Buck slipped his jacket back, making sure he had quick clean access to his gun. Seeing the move, JD did the same as they approached the table.
"That's some hat you got there, friend. Where did it come from?"
"None of your damn business. Play or leave."
Buck stepped closer, while JD moved over to the table beside them, still standing. "See, reason I ask, is a friend of mine has one just like it. Always said it was made special for him, so I gotta admit I'm wondering how you come to have it."
"Ain't the only hat in the world."
"Yeah, but likely the only one with an ace of spades engraved into the band." The others at the table eased back in their seats, knowing things were about to get more than a little unpleasant.
"It's none of your damn business," he growled again. He made to reach for his gun and Buck and JD both drew as Buck snapped his leg up to kick the weapon out of his opponent's hand. An instant later a small derringer popped from his sleeve into his right hand, aimed at Buck. They were almost too stunned to react, but JD managed to reach out and slam the thug's arm onto the table. He heard the crack of a bone, immediately followed by the shriek of agony. Buck reached out and grabbed him by his jacket. "You ain't even begun to hurt, you son of a bitch."
One of the other gamblers scrambled from the table. "Don't know him Mister. He's not from around these parts." The others were rapidly nodding their heads in agreement. Buck could see they were too busy being scared to lie about it. "I can go get Sheriff Walters for you –"
"No need. We're law. We got this."
"You can't just take me away. I need a doctor."
JD favoured him with a maniacal grin. "Oh, we got a healer who will be real happy to work on your injuries."
Buck threw some coins on the table and headed the man outside.
"Where do we take him?" JD asked.
"You don't. I do." Buck spun when he heard the voice, gun at the ready, but pulled back at the sight of the Sheriff's badge.
"Thanks, but we got this, Sheriff."
"I know who you are and why you're here. But I got a town to keep order in. He comes with me to the jail. I'll lock him up." Buck tried to interrupt with no success. "Now, given that I'm short on deputies, I'd be more than happy to accept your offer to watch over him for the night. No one else in there to disrupt any questioning you might want to do."
Buck allowed a slow smile to come to his face. Under normal circumstances, he be less than pleased with the Sheriff's willingness to turn a blind eye to this. But these weren't normal circumstances, and Buck had the impression Walters knew it.
"He busted my hand Sheriff. Just look at them. You can't leave me with them."
"Doc Hazlett will be back tomorrow afternoon. He'll look at you then. Do me a favour, boys. Wrap up any wounds. Blood is a real bitch to clean up." Walters tossed JD the keys to the jail and headed home for the night.
"Told you, I found the hat, and the rigging is mine. You got no right to lock me up." Hayes told them again. His name was the only bit of information he'd given.
Buck stared at the men in the cell, not blinking. He was tired of doing this the proper way. He promised Chris before leaving on this latest search that he wouldn't forget which side of the law he was on. He was deeply regretting that promise.
"JD. We're forgetting our duty. We have us a wounded prisoner here. Now don't you think we should be trying to set that broken arm of his? I know that's kind of tricky to do, but three or four tries and we'll probably get it right." He reached out and grabbed the broken limb turning it sharply. Hayes shrieked out, but JD reached over to muffle the sound.
"Don't think that one worked Buck. Maybe you need to try again."
Buck reached out again but stopped at the rapid shaking of Hayes head. JD removed his hand, wiping the saliva on the prisoner's shirt. He struggled for a minute to catch his breath before speaking.
"Won them off him. Fair and square in a poker game - no don't," he shouted when Buck grabbed the arm again. "Okay, we took them from him. But he cheated us. So, we took back from him."
It was JD's turn to stare the man down. "First place, Ezra doesn't cheat. He doesn't need to, especially not against the likes of you. And in the second place, no way does he hand over his hat and rigging. So, how did you get them?"
"Wasn't my idea." Hayes blurted out. The pain was making it harder to think straight, but he had figured out these guys were not going to give up. Maybe if he could put all the blame on Thompson, they'd let them live. At least long enough to find a way out.
'We saw him there, playin' cards. Thought he was better than us with his fancy clothes and that red coat. All them fancy words. Saw his type all my life – putting on like he's something special. Well he weren't so special when we finished with him." Hayes got so caught up in the memory he forgot who he was speaking to.
"We got him after the saloon closed. Didn't think we'd have the chance, then he went to feed his horse. Treated the stupid animal to peppermints. We should'a shot the horse then, right in front of them, but didn't want to make so much noise. We brought it with us though. That way everybody would think the bastard'd left town. And he did, just not like he planned. Then the damn horse ran off. I bet most of our money was probably in the saddlebags. So we made him pay in other ways. Red weren't so high and mighty when he was screaming. Busted him up good we did. His face, his hands- them damn cheating hands. Thompson stomped on them. When he tried to run, we busted his leg.
Joey took his belt and beat him with that too. Whooped him good. Just like all those southern bastards did to him on the plantations. He screamed then too. A lot. Stopped screaming after a while. After that, Joey really went to work on him. Joey, see he liked hurting men in different ways. I don't. I think it's pretty sick – you know, not natural. But Joey, he had a lot of fun with Red. Pretty soon though it weren't fun for no one. Red just stared off. Didn't scream no more. Or talk or anything. Took all the fun out of it, so we just tossed him down a hill into the river and left." He leaned his head against the wall, grinning until he looked up and saw the murderous hate on Buck's face.
"Don't kill him Buck. Sheriff may be on our side, but he can't ignore that."
"Don't really care about that. Bastard deserves it."
"Damn straight. But not like this. At the end of a rope. Legal."
"I can put him at the end of a rope right now."
"I said legal Buck. Besides, the others deserve to be there. They're going to want to see him swing too."
Buck reluctantly loosened the grip he had, tossing Hayes to the floor and slamming the cell door hard enough that it bounced back open again. "Where's the rest of it?"
Hayes looked up at the blank stare. "What money we got is long gone. Like I said, weren't all that much."
"Enough to make killing him worthwhile."
"Nah – that was just to teach him a lesson." Buck charged through the door again, gun drawn.
"Buck, damn it, no."
"Where. Is. HIs. Stuff."
"I don't –"
Buck cocked the gun. "Ring. Pocket watch. Where?"
"My saddlebags. Horse's tied up back at the saloon."
Buck stared him down for a full 60 seconds before releasing his weapon. He stepped back and locked the door, looking over to JD. "I'll go check the bags. You stay with him. Better chance he won't die unexpected like."
A few minutes later he was back at the jail, dumping of the contents of the bag on the desk.
"You steal all of this?" Hayes didn't answer as Buck began to inventory what was there. "We'll leave this with the Sheriff. Maybe he can sort through –" He froze when he lifted a billfold. Ezra's pocket watch sat underneath. He reached out slowly for it. JD spoke quietly, pointing to another item. "There's the ring." The two men turned to stare as the prisoner to tried to crawl further into his corner.
"Where's Joe Thompson?" Buck snarled, barely keeping himself reined in. "Where's the perverted little son of a bitch?"
Hayes continued to push back into the corner of his cell, knowing they likely wouldn't believe him. "He's dead. Tried to hold up a stagecoach a couple of weeks back. I got clear, but they got him."
"Convenient."
"Why would I lie? Why would I protect him?"
"He's right Buck. Besides, that should be easy enough to check out. Sheriff can do it for us tomorrow." He looked at the clock. "Make that later today." He sat down behind the desk, feeling more tired than he ever had, than he'd ever thought possible.
"Kid, listen to me. The others don't need to know all that detail. Ezra wouldn't want them knowing all that."
"I know. It was bad enough that it happened. He'd – well he'd just have died from embarrassment if he thought folks knew that."
"Chris should know. Can't really say why, but he should." Buck dreaded having to repeat the story.
"Yeah, but not the others. And definitely not Josiah." JD looked at the prisoner again. "Can we change the way he looks?"
"Thought you didn't want me beating the shit out of him?"
"That's not what I mean. Look at him Buck. Big guy, greyish hair, sarape. He's a butt ugly version of Josiah."
"Well, maybe a little."
"Josiah will see it. And he'll figure that the last thing Ezra saw was a man who looked like him doing the killing."
Buck hadn't thought of it that way. "Yeah. That won't sit well. We'll clean him up. Shave him, lose the sarape. Best we can do." He rubbed a tired hand over his face. "I'll send Chris a telegraph in the morning."
"Saying what?"
"That we're coming home. Not gonna tell him anything else that way."
"He'll know it's bad."
"Yeah, I know."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
It was late afternoon when word got to the saloon that three riders were headed to town. Since Buck's telegraph the day before, everyone had been expecting the two lawmakers return, and the sighting of a third horse had everyone suddenly optimistic. The lawmen had gathered at the usual spot, knowing they'd have no trouble being aware of the pending arrival. They walked toward the edge of town, not sharing the growing sense of hope that was spreading. Buck wouldn't have kept good news like that secret. As they got closer, and it became apparent the third man was a prisoner, the street cleared quickly.
"Nice of you to bring us to present Buck. What've you got there?" Chris asked as they all dismounted. Before Buck could answer, Nathan spotted the mangled arm. "What the hell have you got him riding in that condition for? He's in no shape."
"Don't care if his arms fall off." Buck stated simply.
The dead tone in his voice told them all they needed to hear. "Get him to the jail," Chris ordered, moving to block the anticipated move by Josiah. He turned when none came. The man was statue still in place, no reaction displayed on his face. "Josiah? You with us?"
"Don't ask me to guard him Chris. I won't do it."
"You don't have to. None of you have to."
"Is that him?" Chris spun at the sound of Inez's voice, and froze at the sight. "Put the gun down Inez."
"Did he hurt Ezra? Did he kill him?"
Buck took a step towards her, seeing the look on her face that told the whole story. "You don't want to do this darlin'. Ezra wouldn't want you to do this."
They turned to face her, desperate to talk to woman out of a fatal mistake. Hayes saw the moment he'd been hoping for and reached out to grab a gun from the closest holster. He barely had his fingers on it when a shot rang out, dropping him instantly. Josiah stood watching the smoke rising from the barrel of his gun. "He was trying to escape." He spoke quietly, holstering the weapon and walking away.
TBC
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