As always, I make no money from these. The Seven Magnificent men don't belong to me. My reward is writing about them. Please leave a review, if you don't like it, please tell me why. If you do like it, tell me why. This is how I learn. Hope you enjoy.

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The Town of Four Corners was lit up for a Saturday night. The watch fires burned bright on Main Street. The Mercantile store had stayed open late for the families who live way out and had to travel most of the day to get there, it had closed an hour after sunset. The off key music of the piano drifted from the Saloon along with voices of laughter.

Ezra sat dealing the cards. His darkish colored hair, ranging sometimes from a reddish dark brown to chestnut was neatly combed. He wore a red coat this evening, it being Saturday and all. A white shirt with a red trimmed French ruffle at the cuff lay under the coat; it was good quality linen. He had paid an excellent price for it. He wore a reddish brown ascot with a ruby stick pin held it in place. He knew he cut quite a figure amongst these cowhands and drifters. But he had a paradigm and he would not lower himself, he was a gentleman. He would not allow this temporary ascendancys to change that.

There were three new players in town and he had all of them sitting around the table with him. It had taken him the better part of an hour to figure each one of them out. The man to his right, Arnold, when he had a good hand he would scratch under his right eye. The man to Arnold's right, Jim, when he had a good hand he would shuffle his feet under the table and move the cards from his right hand to his left and back again. The man to Jim's right, Darwin had been the most challenging. To Ezra, the man, was an abomination. Darwin could not sit still; he sniffed, rubbed his eye brows, rubbed his nose, scratched, belched and did other grotesque things. Darwin was not a gentleman in any sense of the word, but he did do one thing that allowed toleration of all these things, he could not play poker. The man had money, and the man lost well and it was only when he had a good hand did he sit still for a second.

Ezra set the deck of cards in front of him and picked up his hand. He did the same thing each time he picked his hand up. He thumbed the five cards so he could see what his hand was; he never fanned them all the way open. He glanced down at them and then with a practiced ease he looked at the other men at the table. He had a pair of Aces, a Queen of hearts and two two's. Looking at Arnold he saw the man was looking at his cards real hard, which meant he had nothing. Looking at Jim he saw a small shift in the man's eyes, it meant he had Jacks or under. Looking at Darwin he felt his heart quicken. The man was twitching like he was sitting on a hot rock again. It meant he had nothing and he would bet big.

Arnold passed, Jim opened and the rest threw their dollars into the pot.

Ezra once more glanced at his hand, arranged the card he would get rid of and set the hand down. Picking up the deck, he turned that charming smile on, raised an eye brow. "Cards gentlemen?" His soft southern accents drifted through the din of the noise of the crowd. He looked questioningly at Arnold.

Arnold mulled the cards over, picked three then picked the fourth and threw them down on the table. "Four ..." He watched as Ezra dealt him four cards.

Jim saw Ezra look to him. "Three Mr. Standish..." Jim threw his three down and watched as Ezra dealt the cards out.

"I'll stay with the ones I got..." Darwin ran his hand over his face, pushed up in his chair, wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and burped.

Ezra's smile curled tightly as he tried to keep the disdain out of his voice. "Of course you will." He set the deck down, picked up his hand, took the one card and threw it onto the table. "The dealer will take one." He took one card off the top of the deck in front of him and gathered his hand. He had dealt himself another Queen, of spades this time.

He looked to Arnold, the man still had nothing, he looked at Jim the man still had a pair of something's and Darwin was twitching like a cow in heat. He looked back at Jim as the man placed twenty dollars in the pot.

Jim smiled across the table at Ezra. "I think your bluffing with that one card draw."

Darwin looked at the money he had left in front of him and counted out twenty and pushed it into the pot. "I'm in" he had another twenty left.

Ezra had not taken his eyes off Jim; he counted twenty dollars out then matched it with another twenty. "It will cost to see if I am bluffing then..." He pushed the forty dollars into the pot.

"To rich for me" Arnold threw his cards to the table.

Jim pushed another twenty to the pot and then another twenty. "I still think you don't have it!" He pushed back in his chair slightly, which he had done the last time he had caught Ezra bluffing.

Ezra's expression never changed his smile fixed. He had hoped this would happen. Ezra had gotten the impression that Jim thought he was a poker player.

"I only got twenty left, don't have forty." Darwin's voice was whiney.

Ezra never took his eyes off Jim. "Well then sir I would say you are out of the game." Ezra hesitated just a split second and then pushed two twentys into the pot, his expression still unreadable. "And Sir, it will cost you another twenty to procure the outcome of this suspenseful game of chance." His southern accent purred. His eyes still fixed on Jim's

Darwin looked at Ezra as if he had spit fire from his mouth. "What's that mean?"

He saw Ezra's head turn toward him, the green smiling eyes seemed to change color, going almost deep green, there was cold anger in them now. "It means you should not play poker Mr. Akins."

Ezra looked back across the table at Jim and waited.

Jim looked at his hand, looked at Ezra and then back at his hand, he pushed twenty more into the pot "Call you Mr. Standish." He laid his hand down, face up. He had a pair of Queens.

Ezra's expression went back to a smile. "Two pair, Ace high." He laid his cards down on the table and allowed every one to see them. He reached forward and scraped the money toward him, gathering it all in. He pushed the cards toward Arnold. "I believe it is your deal sir..." Ezra shuffled the money into a neat stack.

"Naw, I had enough for this evening... Need to see if'n I can get a bed for the night." Arnold stood up, pocketing the last of his money. "Least I got a little left." He smiled and walked off.

Darwin took the last few dollars he had and tipped his hat to Jim and gave Ezra a hard look. He had a feeling he had been insulted but durn if he knew how. He hurried after Arnold.

Ezra poured whiskey into the shot glass at his elbow and lifted the bottle in a gesture to the man sitting across from him. He saw Jim nod his acceptance of a drink and he reached across the table and filled the shot glass.

Ezra's vision was distracted for a brief moment as the batwing doors opened and Vin Tanner pushed his way into the bar.

Vin threaded his way through the crowd. His hat was pulled down low, the blondish hair not covered by the hat was damp, the leather and cloth jacket he wore was damp. He really wished this dam rain would let up. He found a place at the bar and smiled at the bartender. "Gut warmer, Fred." He fished a coin out of his front pocket and put it on the top of the bar. He watched as the glass was set in front of him and the amber colored liquor filled the glass. He nodded to Fred as the man turned and walked on down the bar. Vin had just come in from walking the streets and checking on the few shops that were still in business. Half this town was boarded up. It had finally gotten a blacksmith to stay. Vin was glad. He didn't mind shoeing his horse but it was easier to pay someone a couple bits and get it done. He picked up the shot glass and took half of the liquid down. Feeling it chase the damp and cold away. He leaned one leathered clad elbow against the bar top and turned and faced the crowd.

His blue eyes scanned the group. Ezra was at the card tables with a new fellar in town. Josiah was in a far corner reading something. JD and Nathan were sitting with Josiah and the kid looked like he wasn't enjoying the conversation. He didn't see Buck, but Buck was probably upstairs with one of the saloon girls. And he didn't see Chris. Fact is he hadn't seen Chris since early that morning. He finished the drink and set the glass back behind him with another coin. He heard the piano player change tunes.

Hooking both elbows on the bar top he placed his hands across his stomach and hooked his thumbs into his waist band. He drew in a deep breath and with it the smell of sweat, the odor of men, smoke and cattle. He heard his coin scraped across the bar top and he turned and picked up the full shot glass and downed the whole shot in one practiced move. He felt all the chill and damp leave his body. He set the glass down and headed for the doors, there were just too many people. He'd go across the street and listen to the music

Vin walked across the muddy street and took a chair in front of the Mercantile. He had worked here for four days before he gotten a different job and a new group of friends. He dropped into the chair. He was completely in the darkness and he knew as long as he didn't move he would remain invisible. He drew in a shallow breath, held it for a second and then slowly let it out. His feet were propped on the seat of the other chair and his hands were across his stomach, thumbs hooked into the waist band of his pants.

He listened to the sounds of the town. He could see the lamp from the Clarion newspaper shining through the window. Mrs. Travis was working late.

There was a song change on the piano, the song picked up in tempo and he realized it was Buffalo Girl. He shifted his gaze to the hotel as a man came out and stood there for a minute then turned and went back inside. He tapped his foot in time with the song. He saw the light go out at the Clarion and Mrs. Travis appeared in the darkened door way, the watch fire was near burned down in front of her place. He watched as she crossed the muddy street quickly and went into the hotel for some reason.

Two of the horses tied to the rail in front of the Saloon had a little squealing match, some shuffling of hooves and then they were quiet. He glanced up, looking the skyline of the roof tops. He thought he had heard a noise.

Out of the corner of his eye down at the far end of town he saw a figure exit the stable. Even from this distance he knew it was Chris. The flat crowned hat, the long black duster. Apparently Chris had ridden out somewhere and was just getting back in.

Vin watched as the man walked up the middle of the street, he knew Chris was heading for the Saloon. Vin decided he would wait until Chris got to him before he'd hail him.

He watched him walk toward the middle of the wet street. There was a surety to the way Chris walked, a confidence that without even seeing the piercing green eyes or the square set jaw said this was a man not to be ignored. This was a dangerous man.

Vin had known that the first time he had seen him, standing across the street from each other. Vin in that split second had seen a man he knew he could stand shoulder to shoulder within the gates of Hell and shoot their way out or in.

He smiled at that thought. He also knew there was another side to Chris, the side he had seen when JD had wanted to join them. A mere kid looking for adventure and thinking he was tough and ready. Chris had sent him away, not wanting to see the young man's guts spilled. Course he hadn't stayed gone, he was like a pesky dog, just kept coming back, Buck had taken him in under his wing and mothered him like an old cow. He smiled at that thought.

Chris Larabee was now almost abreast of where Vin was hidden in the shadows. Vin silently, dropped his feet to the porch. "Hey...cowboy!" He called it out softly, laughter in his west Texas accent. He started to stand.

Chris heard the voice, recognized it, a smile on his face at the jab of the word cowboy. He started to turn toward where the voice had come from. One of Vin's favorite places to sit after dark. The crack of a high power rifle ripped through the night. Chris felt a white hot pain stab through his head, the blow from the bullet knocked him off his feet and he was slammed onto the muddy street.

The sound of the rifle going off was like a shock wave. Vin had seen the stab of flame from the barrel of the rifle, knowing by the sound of the report it was a Sharps 50. He came to his feet like a cat and drew his sawed off Winchester from the holster on his right hip, he levered a shell into the chamber and raised it up.

The flame stabbed again, wood splintered just to his left. Vin never flinched, he squeeze the trigger and saw the figure on the roof jerk.

Men were pouring out of the saloon at the sound of shooting.

Vin stepped out into the muddy street, keeping an eye on the roof top he ran toward Chris, who was laying almost in the middle of the street.

There were several voices speaking at once, but Vin recognized two distinct ones, Josiah's booming voice and Nathan's. Vin started to kneel next to Chris's prone body. "Shot came from the roof of---." The boom went off again and he was slammed over the top of Chris's body. Pain seared through his hip.

There was a barrage of gun's being fired and as Vin tried to sit up he saw the top of the building he had fired at just seconds ago become shredded with bullets.

He saw JD and Josiah running to the back of that building where the stairs were. And then Nathan was kneeing in front of him.

"Where ya hit?" Nathan tried to see in the darkness.

"Look to Chris...He ain't moved!" Vin felt helping hands get him to his feet. It felt like the bullet had seared across the fleshy spot just above his left hip.

"You there, and you..." Nathan pointed to a couple men. "Help us lift Chris" he looked at Ezra as he arrived. "Ezra take his other arm, let's get him to my room...Come on men, let's go"

Ezra and one of the two men Nathan had called out to bent to help, the third moved a step back. "I ain't taking no orders from no---"

Vin's sawed off Winchester found it's way into the man's rib cage. "Well then take orders from this...!" His Texas accent was very heavy, his voice a soft snarl. He saw the man's eyes widen, his mouth snapped shut and he immediately bent and helped lift Chris.

Vin, favoring his side followed the procession, keeping an eye toward the roof from where the attack had come from. He saw Josiah's tall figure show itself briefly and then disappear. And then they were heading up the stairs to Nathan's rooms.

Nathan directed Chris's body laid on the bed, he lit the extra lamps he had in his room. He nodded to the one man who had helped and glared at the other one, but right now he didn't have time to worry about a predacious man.

He grabbed his medical satchel and brought one of the lamps toward the bed. "Ezra, grab a couple more lamps and put them there on that bedside table." he glanced at Vin as the other men left the room. "Vin sit down in that chair."

Vin knew better then to argue with him, he sat, suddenly glad he had. The pain in his side was beginning to smart. He glanced down at his side and saw a very large red stain spreading. He pulled his jacket over the blood, not wanting the others to see. He wanted Chris attended to.

Ezra set two of the eight lamps down and gathered two more. He stood on the other side of the bed from Nathan and waited. He looked down at the pale muddy, blood smeared face.

The door burst open.

Three guns were drawn and pointed at the door before Buck could step into the room. "Wowww---!" He put his empty hands out in front of him.

"Mr. Wilmington, I believe you should have knocked under the circumstances!" Ezra holstered his right hand gun, his soft southern accent breaking the tension in the room.

"Damn Buck..." Vin shook his head, pushing his hat back on his head with the barrel of the Winchester. "You just about got shot." He laid the short rifle across his lap, not trusting his now shaking hand to holster the weapon.

"JD said Chris was shot I---" He stepped into the room, his face blanching white as he saw his friend laid out on the bed.

Nathan had holstered his gun and went back to looking at the head wound.

There was a gash about the length of Nathan's little finger. The furrow was on Chris's forehead right at the hair line above his left eye. "Ezra, there's a bowl and water pitcher under the table." Nathan saw Ezra reach for them. Nathan grabbed the towels he had under the other bedside table, the one he used for cleaning wounds.

"What the Hell happened?" Buck moved to the foot of the bed, looking around the room for an explanation.

"Somebody ambushed Chris from the top of that boarded up building next to the Saloon." Vin felt like some one else was answering Buck with his voice.

He suddenly felt like the room was getting real crowded and hot. He looked toward the still open door and thought about going outside, but he didn't move, he just sat there. He looked toward the bed; he could just see Chris's face. Leaning back in the chair he felt a strange sensation wash over him.

"He's gonna have one hell of a headache when he wakes up." Nathan had cleaned most of the mud and blood from Chris's face. He felt Chris start to stir. "He's starting to come around."

He laid a damp cloth over Chris's forehead. "Vin, he was hit just once right?" Nathan started to check the rest of Chris's body. He glanced over his shoulder at where Vin was sitting but Buck was blocking his view.

"Vin did---"

Josiah and JD came into the open door. "We brung a body down, but I think there were two people up there." Josiah stepped into the room.

"Looks like Vin's bullet took the first guy out, right through the heart." JD stepped around Josiah, his dark eyes wide with excitement.

"How's Chris?" Josiah gave JD a long look, letting his comment go.

Nathan felt for Chris' pulse, it was strong and regular. He felt his arm twitch. "Chris, its Nathan, we're all here, come on, wake up." He had seen a lot of men in the war not wake up from head wounds not half a deep as this one was.

"Chris can you hear me?" He saw Chris's eyelids flutter, felt an indrawn breath. "You got shot….You're in my room...We're all here...Chris?" He saw the eyes close. "No, come on Chris---wake up---come on." He gave his arm a hard squeeze. He felt resistance to the squeeze. He did it again and saw a pair of green eyes flutter open and anger flush the pale face.

"Welcome back Mr. Larabee." Ezra nodded as Chris's green eyes looked at him.

"Chris" Nathan clamped down on his arm again, liking the shot of anger that went though those green eyes. "You hurt anyplace else?"

Chris Larabee raised his left hand to his head, Nathan still had his right arm pinned down. "Just where you're squeezing my arm." He was having trouble focusing his eyes. "Did you get the bastard that shot me?" He looked around the room again. He was trying to piece together what had happened. Nathan said he had been shot. He remembered riding in from River Bend and putting his horse up. He was heading toward the saloon and Vin had called out to him and then there was the sound of thunder...

He tried to focus his eyes in, looking for Vin. Moving his eyes made his head hurt, actually just breathing made his head hurt. "Where's Vin?" He tried to struggle up. He gave Nathan a nasty look as Nathan put a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him back down.

"I don't think so...Chris you need to be quiet for a couple days." Nathan's dark face took on a worried look. "That's a bad head wound." The cloth he had put across Chris's forehead was already blood-soaked. Head wounds bled a lot.

"Get away from me I'm fine---" He started to struggle.

"Chris listen to Nathan." Buck moved from the foot of the bed to stand next to Nathan, ready to help keep Chris in bed.

"Vin!" It was JD.

All eyes turned toward him. He was standing in front of where Vin was slumped on the chair. JD pointed to the pool of blood under the chair.