The late afternoon sun beat down on the town of Four Corners, lengthening the shadows and covering the street in a warm, dusty blanket. The stage pulled to a stop in front of the livery and the driver jumped down to open the door.
Chris Larabee never tired of watching people. You could tell a lot from the way people acted when they didn't realize they were under scrutiny. He watched the first person step out of the stage and wondered just what brought this newcomer to the town. He listened to the man as he called to the driver in a thick accent he couldn't place.
"Well now, my dear man, could you kindly hand me down my luggage," the man requested.
Chris watched the newcomer, who appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, as he struggled with the heavy bags. He finally gave up on carrying the bag and dropped it to the ground. Despite the fact he was taller, the visitor reminded Chris of Jock Steele. The pint-sized dime store novelist had made quite a name for himself and had an avid fan in JD Dunne.
The blond gunslinger stood up from his chair and pulled his hat forward on his head. His steady gaze went up and down the dusty street, searching for signs of trouble. He leaned his tense frame back against the post. His eyes were drawn once more to the stagecoach, where the newcomer was staring right back at him. Larabee kept his face serious until the man dropped his gaze and turned back to his bags. Leaving the guest behind, the leader wore a cocky grin as he set out to quench his thirst.
'Four Corners has just handed me what I'm looking for,' Maguire thought as he headed for the hotel. He could feel the hint of darkness being reborn, and grinned as the excitement coursed through his body. That malevolent power that he needed was now at his fingertips. "Soon," he whispered, eyeing the lean figure disappearing through the batwing doors of the local saloon, "...soon your soul will be mine..." his eyes lit up in delicious delight.
Chris glanced around the dull interior until his green eyes met a set of familiar blue ones. The lean buckskin clad body was lounging near the back of the room. He walked towards the table and sat in the chair next to his friend. Caution kept his back to the wall, so he could maintain a constant watch on the door. Neither man said a word as Vin slid a shot glass towards the man in black.
Chris lifted the glass to his mouth and dumped the entire contents inside. He swallowed the fiery liquid, sighing audibly as it traced its way down his parched throat.
"Thirsty, Cowboy?"
"Not anymore." Larabee grinned as he set the glass back on the table. "Where is everyone?"
"Buck and JD are out on Patrol. Ezra is helping Nathan and Josiah fix somethin' at the church."
"Ezra Standish doing menial labor?" Larabee nodded as Tanner held the half full bottle of Red Eye over his empty glass.
"Well I wouldn't say he's doin' much of anythin' except gettin' in the way," Tanner laughed as he thought of the last time he'd seen Standish. The gambler was unable to hold his end of the board and he ended up pulling Nathan Jackson to the ground with him. The tracker hurried away before he collapsed in laughter.
Larabee grinned as he downed the second shot of whiskey. "Well, Pard, I think I'll go out to the shack for a couple of days."
"When're ya plannin' on leavin'?"
"First thing in the morning."
"Gonna work on fixin' up the barn?"
"Yeah, figure it's about time I fixed the damage from the last storm."
"Reckon. Anyone new come in on the stage?"
"Just one man," Chris tried to hide the instant dislike he felt for the visitor, but Tanner was the one man who could read him easily.
"He do somethin' ya didn't like?"
"Besides reminding me of Jock Steele?"
"Ah, hell, I know ya didn't like Steele, but he did a pretty good job with his novel. Leastwise that's what Josiah says," Tanner said as the saloon doors opened and a man he didn't recognize entered. "That him?" he inquired, shifting his gaze briefly as the blond head dipped once. "Don't see much of a resemblance with Steele. This guy's at least a foot and a half taller and more muscled."
"Never said he looked like him, just said he reminded me of him."
"Looks like he's comin' this way."
"Oh, great," Larabee hissed, unsure why the sight of this man set the hairs on the nape of his neck on end.
"Gentlemen, might I enquire who runs this fine establishment?"
"Ya might," Tanner said. "Don't always mean ya'll get the right answer."
"Pardon me?"
"Depends on who's asking." The gaze shifted, turning to a cautionary shade of icy green.
'Ah, so perfect, a worthy opponent for sure.' The newcomer thought as he looked into the glaring green eyes. "I like to know the business people in town. It helps in my line of work."
"Who are you and what line of work are you in?"
'Already suspicious and I've only just met him. Oh, this should be good.' "My name is Robert Maguire and I'm a salesman."
"What sorta things ya sell?" Tanner asked as he tipped his chair back, leaning against the wall.
"Just about anything from glasses to newfangled brooms to clothing. I delve into everything. I have a catalogue if you'd like to see it, Mr..." Maguire paused and saw a steel curtain close over the blue eyes. They now reeked of danger. He glanced at the menacing figure in black and his heart skipped a beat. The pale green eyes were guarded well. Smiling inwardly, he turned to the intense man. "I didn't get your name..."
"No, you didn't" Larabee replied tersely, turning back to his whiskey.
'Larabee, it must be him.' he recalled of the reply given by a stranger outside of whom he asked about the figure in black. 'Chris Larabee. A perfect name for the savior of my destiny,' he thought, his eyes shifting from one man to the other. Another image formed, the best friend...the one who the greedy wino was all too eager to talk about. It's funny how a piece of silver can loosen the right lips. Tanner...the tracker...lived with the Indians. "Would either of you be interested in looking at my catalogue?"
"Not interested," Larabee muttered as he looked at the salesman. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this pesky businessman. "I'm heading out," he rose and nodded to his partner.
"Want some help tomorrow?" Vin asked, reading the warning in the green eyes clearly, as they flicked to the stranger. The 'watch your back' was spelled out evenly and he nodded, giving his noted reply.
"Wouldn't mind," Larabee told his friend.
"If you change your mind..." Maguire's words were cut short, when the blond's eyes dissected them.
Larabee nodded slightly to his friend as he headed out the door. An uneasiness settled inside, knowing something was very strange about Robert Maguire.
"Your friend doesn't seem to trust me," Maguire observed.
Tanner smiled as the man in black disappeared. "Does he have a reason?" he asked.
Maguire smiled warmly at the sharpshooter. "No, Sir, I'm just a salesman and I'm just here to sell my wares. I hope I can do business with you."
"Ain't nothin' I need from no store," Tanner told him.
"You'd be surprised, young man, but I won't push anything on you. That's not the type of salesman I am," Maguire assured him.
"Mrs. Potter runs the store in town, ya might check with her," the sharpshooter suggested, as he stood up, "Ya stay a lot healthier, iffen ya mind yer business in this town," he advised, then left the salesman sitting at the table.
'Ah, I see you like to pick up for Chris Larabee. Well that will soon end. He is part of my destiny and soon his soul, his very being will be mine,' Maguire thought, a tiny imperceptibly evil grin appeared on his face, but disappeared before it was fully formed. 'Soon, Chris Larabee, very soon.'
TBC