A Wild Storm

by writeroneday

Chris, meeting the others, arrives in a town a little early, a soft bed and a pleasant evening. Next morning at breakfast six gather around the table, as a storm rages outside and Vin is late…

These Magnificent men are not of my making, I just like to drag them out and write about them, the only reward I get is reading about them. Please if you like it, leave a review, if you don't like it leave a review, this is how I learn.

There is a section of Italics, this is Vin remembering what happened.

She saw him the minute he walked into the saloon. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew of him. He and some of his friends had helped out several of her friends awhile back. She watched him walk to the bar and nod to the bartender.

She watched him toss back the whiskey he had ordered, dropped a coin and had the bartender leave the bottle. He took the bottle, looked around the room in one practiced glance and walk to a corner table. It put him with his back to a solid wall. A full view of the saloon and he could see the doors with no problem.

She had been talking to a couple regulars and she excused herself and walked straight to him. She saw the cool pair of blue eyes look at her as she walked across the room. He had removed his flat crowned black hat, and it sat on the top of the table. His black clothing accented his blond hair. He had the look of travel on his eyes, face and cloths. She knew he was from Four Corners and that was a day and a half ride from here.

She stopped just to his left, looking into those blue eyes. "Buy a girl a drink?" She saw him think a minute. His thin lips pulled back in a slight smile.

"Sure." He lifted his hand to the bartender and he brought over another shot glass.

She pulled a chair to his left, she knew he was right-handed and had seen how he had made Lydia stay on his left side when they sat together.

She waited, not pouring the drink herself and a smile touched his eyes. He poured her a shot, and pushed it toward her.

Reaching out she took the glass and took a sip and set it down. "Looks like you've ridden a ways" She saw his eyes look her over. It was a gentle look, not one like most men gave her, like they were buying something. Although, that was exactly what they were doing. But it gave her a roof over her head and put food in her little girl's belly's.

"Been on the trail couple days . . ." His voice was soft and raspy. He looked over at her as he poured himself another drink, and then he tossed it down.

There was sadness about him. In those blue eyes there was a lot of pain, pain hidden deep. Lydia had spoken about his gentleness, and also about his---coldness. No, it was not coldness; it was a boundary, a wall, a distance. That's what she had said.

"You look tired?"

His eyes moved over toward the other side of the room as a chair scraped and old man Bartlett left for his ranch.

She saw those eyes come back to her. She knew it was late, he'd be looking for a bed and hers would be open. And if she was lucky he would share it with her.

Slowly she came to her feet, reaching out she took the whiskey bottle and extending her hand to him. "I have a quiet room and a feather bed." She saw him think about it and then he took her hand and came to his booted feet.

Her body was stretched along the length of his. She was on her side, her right leg and arm lay across his body. She watched him as he slept. He had been a very gentle and caring lover but when the act was over he had rolled over onto his back and started to get up and she had pulled him back to the bed.

"Stay . . . Please." She had drawn him to her, seeing tiredness and a weariness. "This bed is softer then a straw one." She carefully pushed him back down onto the bed. She saw those blue eyes looking at her and she smiled. "Sleep." She reached up with her right hand and pushed the strands of blond hair that had fallen across his forehead.

"Sleep the night away, no one will bother us . . . " She touched the side of his face, feeling the rough stubble of his jaw. It had felt wonderful as he had ever so gently rubbed his beard against her body and the soft strokes of his hands had near driven her mad. She saw his eyes close then open and then close again and she heard the sounds of sleep began to take over and as she touched the side of his face, he nuzzled against her hand. Softly she again ran her fingers through his hair and laid her head against his bare shoulder. She placed her arm and leg over him protectively. She felt his muscled body began to relax.

She listened to his heartbeat and the soft sound of his breathing as she slowly drifted off to sleep her self.

Chris Larabee woke with a start. His mind, eyes and ears strained to tell him where he was. He had slept deeply. There was someone in bed with him; her soft petite body lay against his. Then he remembered.

He was in Rio Santos, a full day out of Four Corners; the boys were going to meet here. He had ridden into town well after sunset, tired, dirty, and thirsty. The thirst had taken care of any hunger and then the saloon girl had walked over to him.

And he had taken her up on her invitation.

He turned his head toward her. She was young looking, but the lines around her eyes showing she had been around. Her breasts were small but very ample, a small waist he could just about put his hands around. A very lovely face, it was heart shaped, with a small button nose and full lips and her eyes under closed lids were blue. Her hair was honey colored and fell loosely around her shoulders. It felt like silk. Her lips were full and inviting.

He felt the ache of loneliness swell inside him, and he felt something else swell again.

He carefully rolled to his side, facing her. He slipped his hands around her and kissed her, she responded in her sleep. He ran a hand down her side to her hip and felt her respond to his touch. Slowly his left hand made its way back up toward her breast. He kissed her on the lips again. He felt her breath catch in her throat as he kissed her deeply. She moved her body against him, waking from her sleep.

Her sleep filled blue eyes opened. She responded to his gentle touch. A shudder ran through her body.

Ever so gently Chris gathered her and pressed her against his hard body, drawing her to him. They enjoyed each other until spent and exhausted.

They lay tangled in each other. Chris held her for a long time and then slowly as sleep began to take them both, he felt her un-wrap her legs from around him. Rolling gently to his side, he remained with her cuddled against his chest, feeling her warm, heavy breath against his neck. He felt her as she went back to sleep. She snuggled in closer to him, the silkiness of her hair against his chest brought memories of Sarah.

He had loved Sarah beyond life and as he had buried her and Adam it had burned his heart out. It had been a year before he could be with a woman and the first few times it had been a drunken act of pain and rage. Then he had come out of a drunken stupor with a working girl, she was pressed up into the corner of her bed crying. Fear written across her big brown eyes; tears rolling down her cheeks.

He had reached toward her and she had gasped and tried to press herself into the wooden wall

"No . . . please . . . your hurting me . . ." Her eyes were like that of a cornered animal.

He had moved back, away from her. Ashamed the fear he had caused. He saw the relief flood into her eyes and the shame sank deeper. And the dark pit he had been sinking into grew deeper.

Chris had gone to war with the world. He moved through life looking for a fight; fist, guns or whatever. The pain that was burning and eating at his soul was all consuming, and it was driving him to the edge. He was looking for destruction, looking for a way to kill his pain, and if he had to seek death to do it, so be it. But he found he was good with a gun and the though that he might find out what had happened to Sarah and Adam drove him on.

He and Buck had parted company. Buck saying he couldn't watch Chris destroy himself any longer. He was always on the prod. He had finally gotten Buck to leave him alone. Buck had been a constant reminder of ---.

Chris shook the memories from his mind. That was a different Chris, that Chris, was still just under the surface and he had to work hard to pull himself out of that pit he had put himself in and get back into the world of the living.

His eyes focused in on the woman encircled in his arms. He knew he was afraid to care, he knew if he ever cared, loved and lost again the darkness that was always just under the surface would swell and swallow him whole. He knew he wouldn't survive. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, he put his chin on top of her head, feeling the silky hair against his jaw and throat. The muscles of his jaw flex, and he swallowed the grief, pain, and anger that the memories had brought up and he closed his eyes. He let sleep cover the pain.

She woke with his arms wrapped around her and she felt safe, warm and sad. She was a whore. He would wake and leave, he had never even asked her name. She looked at his sleeping face. He was a very handsome man; she also knew he was a dangerous man, a man with the reputation of a fast gun. But there was such sadness to him.

She wondered how he had chosen his path. She had been married to a good man. They had come west in search of land and her Husband had heard about gold and had dragged her with him into the mining camps, where their first child, Alisa had been born. But he found little gold and they moved on. Their third gold camp he had gotten a good claim and Lisa was born and with Lisa less then three months old her husband was killed in a dispute and the claim was taken away and with no family and no money she had slipped into the life of prostitution. It was better then letting her little girls starve.

She carefully untangled herself from him and slipped from the bed. He stirred and she gently reach over and ran her hand through his hair and whispered into his ear. "Sleep . . ." She drew the covers up around him and saw him settle back into the deep sleep. He had looked so tired and worn when he had come in the saloon. Now he looked like a young man, his hair ruffled with sleep, the deep lines that had been etched on his tired face were smooth. He slept soundly.

She walked softly over to the little dresser and small mirror and pouring water into the basin she washed quickly and dressed. Then going to the door to the room connected to hers she opened it and stepped in.

Her children were still sleeping. They were five and four and they were the center of her world. She had been saving and scrimping and she would soon have enough money to try and move to a bigger town and open a laundry, or a cafe or a seamstress. Somewhere where they didn't know what she had done for a living.

She pulled the cover up on Alisa and kissed them both and looked around the room. She could read and write and was good with figures and she was teaching the children how to read and write. There were very few children around so the kids had learned to play with each other. And when she left this town, she would try to leave the pain of what she had been and what she was behind. She stood and stared at her sleeping children for a while.

As she opened the door to her room her eyes went to the bed, he was awake, sitting on the side of the bed and when he looked up at her, he smiled, and her heart began to break. The smile touched his lips but not his eyes.

"Morning . . ." He was pulling his boots on; he stood and finished buttoning his shirt. Then tucked the shirt tails into his narrow waist band. He stepped to the head of the bed and took his gun belt and swung it around his waist and buckled it in place. "May I buy you breakfast?" He saw something pass over her face.

She needed to end the fantasy in her head that somewhere a white knight would take her from this life. "Thank you, but no . . ." She was a whore and the only way she would ever get out of it was by herself.

Chris saw a sadness touch her face, she smiled a sad smile and moved to him and stretching up on tip toes she kissed him on the cheek. She reached over on the bed side table and retrieved his hat and handed it to him.

When he took the hat she turned and headed for the door to the hallway and opened it, that sad smile still in place. She wasn't going to ask for money. She was going to remember him for a long time.

Chris reached into his front pocket and pulled a wad of money out. He started to lay it on the bedside table.

"No . . . Don't . . . I" she wasn't sure how to explain it. "You helped some people I know. I didn't do it for---"

"You did it for Lydia . . . " He left the money and walked toward her. He stopped just in front of her. Reaching out, he very gently caressed her face. "Melanie, I remember you from Wicks Town."

She looked down and started to step back.

He tipped her chin up and smiled.

She saw the smile go all the way to his eyes. For a long minute she thought she might cry. There was understanding in his eyes.

"Put the money in your kid's fund." He nodded toward the door where her daughters slept. "Lydia said you took real good care of your girls." His voice was soft and he slowly bent down toward her trembling lips and kissed her. "And thank you for a safe place to sleep --- and for everything else Melanie." Chris stepped around her and out into the hallway and walked down the hall to the stairs.

Melanie stood there and watched him go. Surprise across her face, she stepped back into her room and shut the door and walked over to the money. Reaching down she picked it up. There was fifty dollars. She turned and sank down on the bed and quietly cried.

Chris walked out of the back of the saloon and headed for the street. The sky was still a deep blue, the deep blue of night going to morning. The clouds floating in the sky were starting to tinge with pink. He could smell rain on the wind. He could smell food cooking and as he stepped out onto the boardwalk he looked up and down the street to find the source.

He was hungry.

He saw the restaurant and the two horses tied out in front of it. Nathan and Josiah were in town. He strode across the street and into the restaurant. Walking to the table, he dropped into an empty chair. "Josiah…Nathan . . . Morning."

Both Josiah and Nathan, looked at each other, Chris had never been known for being a morning person, he was a bit like Ezra, only noon to Ezra was considered early.

"Morning Brother." Josiah eyed Chris. "Looks like you slept well."

Chris took the coffee that was offered to him and smiled at Josiah. "Preacher that is exactly what I did, in a big feather bed."

Nathan suppressed a chuckle. "Oh, so that's what put the smile on your face." He gave Josiah a side glance, his lips breaking into a wide smile that made him look much younger. "A feather bed?"

Josiah, looked between Chris and Nathan, a serious look coming to his face. "Must have been a really good feather bed?"

Chris was silent for a long minute, took a sip of the coffee, then looking at both of them. The gleam came to his blue eyes. "Yes, it was!"

All three sets of eyes turned toward the door as JD, Buck and Ezra came walking in. JD, the derby firmly in place on top of his head, his black hair sticking out from under it, and a wide smile on his boyish face. "See, I told you Ezra."

"My, my . . . what resplendent proclamation." Ezra's southern accent was contemptuous; there was a faint snarl to his lips. He walked on past JD and the table and went to the small counter and poured himself coffee, not waiting for the waitress.

Nathan looked at the gambler, his smile widening again. "He's such a bear in the morning before he has had his coffee."

"Not quite the correct tautology Mr. Jackson." Ezra slowly walked back toward the table his companions occupied and took a chair. "This is such an abominable hour!" Glowering at them all, he glanced around the room, waving his hand slightly "I just cannot construe why you don't do things at a more civilized hour, would it truly be so arduous?"

Buck was still standing as the waitress walked into the room. He hurried toward her, hesitating at where Ezra sat for a split second, laying a hand on the dark jacket he wore. "Give it a rest Ezra, your starting to make even my head hurt." His words were for Ezra but his brown eyes were on the waitress. He hurried across to where she was getting the coffee pot and cups.

"Here little darling, allow me to help you." He took the hoop handle of the coffee pot from her. "This is such a heavy thing for a little thing like you to carry."

JD dropped down into the chair next to Ezra and watched Buck help the waitress pour the coffee. He marveled at the way a woman could make Buck chirp up.

They ordered breakfast all the way around.

As breakfast was served, the thunder started outside. First low rumbling off in the distance and then a little closer and then it was window rattling, dynamite booming crashes. JD had gotten up at the sound. "Saw a lean-to around back, going to put the horses there." He headed out the door as a big wind gust came through.

Lighting lit the re-darkened street, and then the rain came. There was nothing small about this storm. This was no small, sprinkling of rain drops. When it started it was like some one had pumped the handle on the pump and a full throat of water came gushing out.

JD came from the kitchen, slightly wet. Walking back to the group, he sat down in the chair, looking at Buck, who was looking at the waitress. "You owe me five dollars Buck..." He smiled at Buck as the other turned his attention from the waitress.

"Five dollars?" Buck narrowed his brown eyes. "I don't owe you no five dollars Kid…"

JD looking over at Ezra, a pleased as punch look on his face. "Ezra, remind him of the bet."

Ezra, still repulsed with the early hour, and the fact it had been Buck who had woken him in a very impolite manner, smiled. "Yes, the wager Mr. Wilmington, Mr. Dunn said it would rain this morning and you bet him five dollars it would not. I do believe even a blind, deaf and dumb person would call what it falling out of the sky, rain. Therefore Mr. Wilmington, you owe Mr. Dunn---." The smile on Ezra's lips curled too almost a snarl, his emerald green eyes narrowed. "Five dollars."

Buck saw the smug look on JD's face and the snarl on Ezra's lips. "I'll catch ya later Kid."

Every one laughed

The six sat; eating, talking and listening to the raging storm that was going on outside. It must have lasted close to 45 minutes of hard rain and twice there was the sound of hail on the roof.

The door opened and a rain soaked man walked in.

The six pairs of eyes looked the man over, but it wasn't Vin. They saw the stranger take a table on the other side of the room in front of the window. He was dressed like a merchant.

The waitress walked to him, calling him by name.

"Vin should of been here before any of us?" JD looked across the table at Josiah, then Chris. Chris, had been his normally quiet self this morning, but JD had noticed there was a smile touching the corner of his eyes. JD waited as Chris looked toward the windows, listening to the hard rain coming down.

"He's probably hold up some place." Chris moved slightly as the waitress took his plate away when she walked by. "Waiting for the storm to blow over would be my guess."

JD thought a moment. The storm had come from the direction Vin would have come from. And he knew Vin could definitely take care of himself in the wild. The thought escaped into words. "Well Vin can handle himself in the wilds…"

They all nodded, but each was still concerned, one was missing, the group was not whole.

The waitress cleared the table and brought them more coffee. The rain was still coming down hard and they had no desire to cross the street and go to the saloon. So they drank coffee, listened to Buck drone on about women. Ezra finally woke up enough to produce the ever-present deck of cards. And they played for matchsticks, with the cook sitting in.

"Don't look like it's gonna end for while." Josiah sat back down where he had vacated, he had gone to the windows and looked out, stretched a little. Taking the new hot cup of coffee, the waitress Lilly offered.

The cook's name was Dack and he was from across the sea. Big strapping man with close-cropped hair and ears that looked like he had fought a lot, he spoke with a thick German accent. He was pleasant, quick with a laugh and a joke.

JD tried the three-legged dog joke and he laughed and then started telling jokes, getting even Ezra and Chris to laugh and smile.

The morning turned on into afternoon and the rain continued to fall. Some times it was just a drizzle, most of the time it was a hard rain with fits of hail.

They all knew that a couple more hours of this rain would delay them getting back to Four Corners. Much more rain like this and Josiah was saying something about learning how to build an Ark.

There was another burst of hard rain and hail with lightening that lit the street like daylight. This rain burst lasted ten to fifteen minutes and then it went back to just raining.

They were on the third big pot of coffee when the rain stopped. The wind was still blowing but the rain had ceased. They finished the hand.

Chris had been cooped up too long, he needed to be out. "Deal me out boys." He took the coffee cup with him and walked to the door and opened it, stepping out he knew Nathan was close behind.

They stood on the porch and looked at the water. The street looked like a muddy river.

"Looks a bit like the Mississippi."

Nathan smiled. "Close, lot of red in this mud . . ."

Chris took a swallow of coffee and nodded to the east, the direction Vin would be coming from. "Looks like it ain't going 'a let up." The sky to the east was so black it was blue.

"Vin can take care of himself." Nathan knew Chris was worried about Vin. They all were. Chris seemed to turn to Vin for a lot of things. He listened to Vin when it came to planning, he and Vin thought along the same lines. "He'll be here when he can."

Chris and Vin had kept the cowhands from hanging Nathan, that first day they met. Nathan knew there was a special bond between the two. Half the time he swore they each knew what the other was thinking. He had seen the look on Chris's face as they had listened to the old Indian at the bar. He'd had the feeling that if Vin had said no to helping the Indians, Chris would not have gotten the group together. He also knew that Buck was jealous of Vin and Chris' relationship, even though Buck didn't show it. Buck had known him longer but the friendship wasn't there like it was between the gunslinger and the ex-bounty hunter.

They stood and listened to the wind and in the far distance, thunder. The smell of a wet desert and more rain came on the cold wind.

Chris threw the last of the coffee in his cup out into the river that might return to a dusty street some day.

The rain started again, there was no gentle sprinkle. It sounded like a train coming into town. It came down as if it wanted to drill deep into the ground it was so hard.

They both turned and started back for the door. Chris hesitated slightly, allowing Nathan to enter first, he looked back to the east end of the street, he could just barely make out the far building.

He followed Nathan into the warmth of the room and then turned and stepped back out. He narrowed his eyes to sharpen his vision. There had been a shadow, a fleeting movement. No, there was something there, something moving.

A wagon and it was coming on hard.

"Chris . . ." It was Buck's voice. "Ya see something?"

Chris had moved to the edge of where the rain was blowing onto the wooded walk. He could just make out someone driving the team, but the rain was so hard.

"It's Vin . . ." It was JD's voice.

They watched as the driver of the wagon drove the horses on in the rain, wind and hail. The horse's bodies were steaming. The team was drawn to a splashing, wave making halt.

The group, standing under the over hang of the porch roof looked up at the soaked driver. Vin moved stiffly from the driver's box to come down under the roof.

"Bout time." Buck moved back a little, the rain was being driven under the roof of the porch.

JD's eyes were on the horse's. They were steaming they were so hot and they were near dead, the one closest to him had blood frothing from his nostrils. He had seen the men, he and his mother had worked for, abuse horses like this, it infuriated him "Jesus Vin . . ."

Vin turned his glassy blue eyes toward Nathan. "I drove 'em as hard and as fast as I could Nathan, but I think the old man died . . ." he tilted his dripping wide brimmed hat toward the back of the wagon. He coughed, a deep racking cough, his body was shaking with cold. He was drenched, water ran from him. His face and hands were blue with the cold.

Vin saw Nathan head toward the back of the wagon, Josiah following. He pushed his hat back off his head and a shiver took him. He coughed again.

"Vin, come on in---" Chris was cut short as JD pushed him back.

"You've ruined this team." JD stepped up in front of Vin, anger vibrated from him. "At the least, their wind broke, and that sorrels got blood coming from his nose, he might die . . ."

Vin looked at the anger in his eyes. "JD --- I---"

He never saw the right that JD threw. It caught him on the side of the chin and he went down like he had been pole axed.

"Good lord almighty . . ." It was Buck, looking into the wagon. "I think there all dead!"

He had known it was going to rain. He could smell it on the wind long before the thin line of black showed up on the eastern horizon. He knew of a small cabin where he could hold up and wait it out. He headed toward the low breaks. He might make it there before the rain hit. He tapped Peso in the ribs with his heals, the strip faced black broke into a lope and Vin allowed the horse his head. He could feel the wind at his back, growing cooler.

As he got into rougher ground, he pulled the black into a walk and let the horse pick his way through the rocks. He was close to the cabin when the first few scattered drops struck the ground. For the first time that morning he turned and looked over his shoulder. He pulled the black to a rough halt. He had grown up around the Pan Handle of Texas where it was flatter then a good pool table and he had seen storms like this blow in. This was going to be a bad one. He didn't hesitate. He hurried Peso on. He struck a mule deer trail that led to water and the cabin and as he came to the last little hill he heard voices

" I told you to get up in the wagon old woman!"

Just from the tone of voice Vin knew it was trouble. Maybe these were the robbers they were looking for. Vin slid from the black's saddle and drew his long rifle. More rain splattered and thunder rumbled in the distance. He eased his way along the trail, knowing the lay of the land. He knew the trail ended on a little flat piece of ground and the cabin was just to the left and up the little rise about half way and the water was in a natural tank over to the right of that.

He dropped to the ground and moved into a position that gave him a little height and an advantage.

There was a team and big wagon standing below and in front of the one room cabin. There were two white men and nine black people. Five of the blacks were kids, there were two women, an older white-haired man and a young man.

Vin looked back at them. They were poorly dressed in clothing that was more hole then cloth. There was something about them, he couldn't place it, they looked different. He thought it was the storm coming in playing with the light.

Another spattering of rain struck the ground.

Vin knew this storm was gonna be a gully washing, hail pounding storm. The temperature had dropped in the last ten minutes.

" I told you!" The taller of the two reached out and struck the old woman, sending her hard to the ground.

Vin didn't hesitate. He laid down the sharps rifle and pulled the sawed off Winchester from its gun sheath and stood up, he cocked the deadly weapon and the dance was on.

The oldest boy had seen the man appear out of the dust. He saw him framed against the blackened sky with a lighting bolt coming down in the distance. He saw the apparitions blue eyes, and knew they were gonna be saved.

"Fellar's, I think some manners need to be learnt here." Vin saw the taller of the two, half turn toward him, he was drawing his gun. The other spun, crouching, his gun already clearing leather and Vin knew that one was the dangerous one.

They fired as one, Vin felt something tug at his jacket and he saw the man he had aimed at knocked off his feet. He levered the rifle again and as the tall man's gun cleared leather Vin pulled the trigger.

Lighting cracked and spit the sky.

The tall man fell to the ground. His gun, discharging toward the blackened sky.

Vin moved slowly, walking down the little knoll and toward the group. He watched the children move back behind the adults, the young woman helped the old woman to her feet; they both clung to each other in the growing darkness. The oldest of the children, the boy, and the one who had spotted him as he had come from the ground stepped forward. He stood there looking with big dark eyes at Vin, a smile on his thin face.

A hard cold splash of rain struck again. Vin swept the area with his eyes. There were two saddle horses and the team attached to the wagon. Vin got a good look at the group, there were all thin as rails. They looked more then half starved. He sauntered down onto the flat and saw that the cabin was just barely standing. It looked like the roof had caved in.

Another splatter of rain dashed to the ground, thunder rolled.

As Vin got closer, he saw the fear in all their eyes except the boy, he stood there staring at him. There was a look of wonder on the child's face.

"Jessie, get back . . ." The woman tried to catch him by the arm and pull him back, but he slipped her and stepped to Vin.

"Mister, how'd you come out of the ground?"

Vin was looking at the woman. He saw worry and fear. "I was laying there." Vin reached up and touched the brim of his hat. "Ma'am no need to fear."

Lightening crackled in the sky.

Vin flinched, it had almost sounded like a shot it was so sharp. He saw the whole group react to the flash.

"We're gonna need to get in out of this, it's gonna be a bad storm." He stopped where the boy was standing, still staring at him. Vin looked down at the boy in the fast-growing darkness and got the second shock. The boy was starved, he had that look. Vin had seen it in a couple of the war camps. All he had in his saddle bag was a little jerky.

"You gonna help us?" This was the middle-aged man. He kind a staggered away from the back of the wagon, the wind that had started to pick up near blew him over.

"Yes sir, I'll help you." Vin was working on a plan.

The old white-haired man stepped forward, blocking the younger man's way. "That is what they said." He was shaking from the cold and abuse he had been through. "How do we know you'll help?"

"All I got is my word, and it's good." Vin holstered the rifle and rushed to catch the man before he hit the ground. Vin caught him and lifted him in his arms. He didn't weigh nothing. Vin's saddle was heavier then this man.

He moved the old white-haired man to the back of the wagon and placed him in it.

The splatter of rain came again, but this time it stayed.

Vin looked at the people. They were all skin and bones. He looked back at the cabin.

"Da were gonna stay der, but it weren't fit for dem." This was the old woman.

Vin looked at her. She had eyes dark as coal,but there was a spark in them. She moved toward Vin. "We ain't had nothing to eat in two days . . . "

Vin looked at the sky as it began to rain harder. The drops were big and cold and he knew he could smell hail coming. He turned and looked back down at the old woman. "Think you can get everybody in the wagon?"

She nodded.

"We've got to find shelter and fast." He started back around to where his horse was staked out. "Be back in a minute." He ran back up the knoll, picking up his rifle as he went for the horse. He got to the horse, slammed the rifle in the scabbard and swung up into the saddle and kicked him into a run. He came into the little area. Pulling the black to a halt he slipped off, tied the horse to the back of the wagon. He helped the younger woman into the wagon. He helped the man into the wagon and saw them all huddle together. The temperature had dropped several degrees. He looked into the coal black eyes of the old woman and gave her a smile. "Anyone here object to horse meat?"

He saw his meaning sink in and saw her smile. "Dat, be good young man…"

Vin turned first to his saddle bag and pulled the wrapped jerky out, it would give them something to chew on until they could get a fire made. He handed the jerky to the young woman. "It's all I got. . ."

Vin turned and walked back to the two bodies. Only one of them had a coat, he pulled it off the dead body and then went to where they had their saddle horses tied. He took a look at the two horses, one was a lot younger, he'd take the older ones life and turn the young one loose. He drew his sawed off rifle and jacked a shell into the chamber. He hated killing a horse, but food was food.

The shot came from the direction he had come.

It whizzed past Vin's head. He looked up to see at least four or five men riding toward them. Vin leveled off three quick shots. The first one took the lead rider in the shoulder and the next two slowed them down and made them hunt for cover. Vin did not hesitated, he continued to run for the wagon firing sideways as he ran. As he passed his horse he pulled the rifle from the scabbard and then leaped into the wagon box. He gathered the reins and as the sky opened up he whipped the team into a dead run out onto the flats and out of the protection of the breaks.

He did two things as he saw the men start to follow. He jammed the reins to the team into the hands of the middle-aged black man who was just inside the bed of the wagon, behind the drivers box and shouted for him to hold onto them and for everyone to get down.

Vin drew his rifle from the seat, crouched down in the driving box, facing through the hoop in the front through the back. He braced himself and put the rifle to his shoulder and sighted down the barrel. He had to adjust for the rain and wind. He drew a breath, slowly let it out and squeezed the trigger. He saw another rider fall from the saddle and then it was raining so hard he couldn't see anything.

It was two hours of hard riding to where he was to meet Chris and the rest of the boys. He had a wagon full of starving people, could be someone on his trail, and one hell of a storm following them.

What else could go wrong.

Chris stood at the window looking out at the rain still coming down.He looked back over his shoulder at where Vin lay in the warm bed. They had brought him, three kids, the middle-aged man and young woman and the old woman into the hotel.

Two of the children and the old white hair man had died. The six of them were all shaken by what they saw and what the young woman had told them about what had happened.

They had been coming west, looking for a new home. They had met some men and allowed them into camp. One of the men had said he knew a valley that would be perfect for farming, he'd take them there. The next night in camp they drew their guns, robbed them, killed two of their men and loaded everything into two of the three wagons.

Two men were left to take all of them down toward Mexico where they would be sold. Their wagons and all their possessions were taken to a town somewhere and sold. The men were to meet at that water tank.

The two men fed them very little and made them walk. Alva, that was the young woman thought it had been somewhere around twenty days they had marched, but she wasn't sure. The last five days had been real bad, almost no food and the men had started getting real surely, thinking the others had run out on them.

Chris heard a soft knock on the door. He walked over to it and opened it, Melanie was standing there.

"Hi..." She smiled up at him.

He hadn't seen her in the last two days they had been here, but he had spent a lot of time sitting with Vin as a fever raged through the trackers body.

He smiled back. "Hi." He gave her a questioning look.

"Three men rode into town, bout an hour ago...They're asking about the wagon." She saw the change in him as if a curtain had been drawn over him. It scared her to see the change. She saw him think for a long second.

"Can you stay with my friend?"

She had heard how he had been standing vigil over the man that had brought the black family in. "Of course…" She smiled as he stepped back.

She entered the room and looked to the bed.

"Vin's been sleeping, Nathan says he's got pneumonia, his fever is still up and he's---"

Vin coughed, it was a deep racking sound, it hurt just to listen to it. He came around. He struggled to sit up.

Chris stepped to his bedside. "Easy Vin...it's all right" He supported Vin as the other sat up, coughing again.

Melanie saw the worry etched in Chris's face. Saw the concern in those blue eyes. "I'll get it." She saw Chris trying to reach for the water on the bedside table. She stepped to the table and took the glass and stepped back around and kneeled in front of them. Holding the glass up toward Vin's mouth she felt his hands cover her's. She saw his blue eyes focus in on her, see could see the glassiness of the fever in them, the pain it brought to breath. She helped him drink from the glass.

She had heard the story of how this man had risked his life for those people. How he had drove a team of horses through the raging storm to bring them to shelter.

Melanie shifted her gaze to Chris who was sitting behind Vin on the edge of the bed, supporting Vin's upper body against his shoulder and chest."

Vin shook his head when she offered him more water. She got to her feet and stepped back, watching as Chris gently laid Vin back down to the pillow.

"Chris...?" Vin's soft Texas accent was hoarse from coughing, he drew in a ragged breath.

"Yeah Pard..." Chris could see that Vin was shaking again from the fever, he bent and drew the covers up to Vin's shoulders.

Vin blinked, his blue eyes narrowed, he cocked his head slightly. He blinked again. "Chris have you got a brother?"

Chris glanced over at Melanie who was staring at Vin with a puzzled look on her face. She looked at Chris.

Chris looked back at Vin, smile touched his face. "No, why?"

"Cause there's two of you." And with that he shivered and passed out.

Chris straightened from over the bed. He looked over at Melanie and then back Vin. "You'll stay with him?"

"Yes I will." She walked around him and set the glass down on the table. "Go do what you need to do. I'll be here." She touched his arm as he turned to go.

"Them men in the saloon look like they rode some to get here, they were wet and cold.

"I'm gonna send Nathan down to look at him. Fever is going up and his breathing is getting worse." He started for the door. "And then go see the men in the saloon." He went to the door, opened it and then hesitated slightly.

She saw the worry deepen as the blue eyes looked at the man in the bed. And then he was out the door and it shut.

Melanie stood there looking at Vin, he was shivering. She looked around the room, there was another blanket on the chair, it looked like Chris had been sleeping in the chair. She took the blanket and spread it over the bed. She tucked it in around his shoulders. She took a look at his face. He was not much older then she was. She though he probably had blondish hair when it was dry, now sweat rolled from his brow. He had a handsome face. Wide square jaw; slightly broad chin. He had a couple days beard growth and it looked good on him. She saw a towel on the table beside the bed and took it and wiped the sweat from his face. She saw those blue eyes open again.

Vin saw the woman sitting at his bedside. It hurt to breath. His vision blurred. He blinked it clear and saw the woman again. His teeth were clenched so tight to keep them from chattering that his jaws hurt.

"I'm Melanie...Chris went to take care of some business, he'll be back in a minute." She smiled and gently wiped the sweat again. She could hear his breath, it was ratting in his lungs.

There was a knock on the door and it opened. A young black man came in. She recognized him as the one they called the Healer.

"Miss, I'm Nathan."

She came to her feet. "He's come back around, I added a blanket. His fever's going way up."

Nathan looked at her for a minute. "You know about fevers?"

"I was in Vitter's gold camp two years ago." She saw his eyes look at her harder.

Nathan looked from Vin to her. "The Grip come through that camp, weren't more then a dozen or so people survived." Nathan had heard the horror tales from that camp, there were not enough living to bury the dead.

"I sat with five people, my daughters were there, only two men made it and my daughters."

Nathan looked at her. "They said there was a poultice use on the lungs that worked." He saw her smile.

Chris left Ezra and JD with the kids. He gathered Buck and Josiah. And they went to the saloon for 'a drink'.

Chris walked into the saloon and spotted the two men at the bar.

The bartender was a few feet to their left and when he saw Chris come through the door, he knew trouble when he saw it. This may have been the same man he had served a bottle to a few nights ago but the intense eyes and set of his manner was changed, this man was on the prod. The bartender took up the glass in his hand, reached under the bar and drew a bottle of the 'good" stuff and left it for the man dressed in black and move as far down the bar as he could go. He saw a smile come to those blue eyes and he wished he were some where else.

Chris saw the bartender notice him, saw the shock, saw him turn the glass over and place the bottle on the bar and move away. Chris smiled, that feeling came boiling up. The reckless, mean anger. It felt like an old friend slipping beside him.

He stepped up to the bar and poured a drink. Setting a coin on the bar top he shot the whiskey down, feeling the burn of liquid as it added to the fire that had flared to life.

He turned and faced the two men, less then ten feet between them.

"I hear your asking about a wagon?" There was a vibrancy in his voice.

The man closest to him turned his head.

Del Panyon was tired, half cold, and the rot gut whiskey was burning a hole in his stomach. His boss was angry with him, and he had lost a chance at a lot of money. The trail they had tried to follow in the rain had lead to here. He though he could find those darkies here and he had seen a couple others he might be able to shanghai. That would make his boss happy and put money in his pocket. He turned his body toward the man addressing him. He didn't like the tone of voice and he wasn't taking nothing off of nobody. "Yeah I had a bunch of no goods steal my wagon."

Chris felt the anger surge forward. It was the coldness, the sanctuary. It was his old ways flooding forward, the Chris before Four Corners. He moved his hand down to his gun; the duster had already been placed behind the gun. He felt and tasted the old excitement start. That one that came just before he pushed a fight; the one that for a couple years he had lived with and on. It surged into him, he felt a physical change.

Buck and Josiah had slipped into the bar quietly. Buck was over in the corner behind the men; he saw the look on Chris's face and felt his gut twist. He looked at Josiah and then back at Chris.

Chris chuckled, it was a mean chuckle.

Del glanced over his shoulder at his companion and looked back at the blond hair man facing him. "What's so funny?" He knew this man was on the prod, knew this man thought he was a gunslinger, but he had faced a lot of want-a-be gunslingers

Chris smile went cold. "Well I've heard some tall lying in my time, but you got those beat."

Del moved slowly off the bar, giving his companion gun clearance. "You, calling me a lair?"

"Josiah, is that what I called him?" Chris never took his eyes off the men, anger vibrated in his voice.

Josiah, leaning in the corner, raised his head so he could see the men under the brim of his hat. "I do believe you made that quite clear."

Both men looked toward Josiah, the second man looked over his shoulder and saw Buck. He spoke low to Del.

"Josiah, Buck." Chris's voice had changed. "stay out of the fight, these low down dogs are mine." Chris's stance shifted just slightly, but his eyes had stayed on the two men in front of him, his attention was on their eyes, that was where the clue would come from, that was where they would start their draw. He felt the stillness come into him, the quiet knowing, and the waiting spark.

And it came, the second man went for his gun first, the one closest to Chris drew a heart beat later and they both never clear leather.

Chris's forty-four thundered twice. Shots so close they sounded as one.

The second man was thrown into the bar, the one closet to Chris was sent backwards and over a chair and to the floor. The second man clung to the bar as he felt his life slipping away from him. He looked at the man dressed in black and remembered where he had seen him. He had been the one to take out Jacobson down in the badlands for nothing more then looking at him wrong.

"I---" he felt the blood froth into his mouth. "Know you."

"Then you should have stayed out of it..."

His hand began to slip from the bar, he glanced at Del. "He was my friend." He lifted the gun in his hand and started to aim it. "I couldn't."

"Don't…" Chris lifted his forty-four. "It's over..."

The hammer clicking back was loud in the silent room. Del's friend and companion struggled to hold the gun steady as he aimed it at Chris.

Chris saw the same thought process in the man's eyes. Chris' fingers squeezed the trigger of the forty-four on their on.

There were two shots fired, the one from Del's friend tugged at Chris coat, Chris's shot toppled the man backwards, dead before he hit the floor..

Buck's brown eyes had remained on Chris's face the whole time. It had been awhile since he had seen that look, that crazed, insane look that had finally driven him away from his friend. The look of 'I don't care who dies'. He watched as Chris moved toward the two downed men, his gun still on the ready and looked down at them both.

Chris turned and walked out of the saloon.

Buck didn't follow, instead he walked over to the bottle where Chris had poured his drink from. He poured the amber colored liquid into the shot glass, looked at the shot glass and took the bottle and tipped it up to his lips and swallowed.

Josiah had not seen Chris's face until he had turned to leave; he understood why Buck was drinking. The Chris that had just walked out of the saloon was not the Chris they had been riding with these last few months, the Chris that had just left had cold blue eyes and no soul.

"All right now children. You have cleaned your plates and I have promised to tell you a bed time story." Ezra pulled his chair around so he was facing the beds. The older boy Jessie had a bed to himself. The two girls Ester and Willow shared the other bed.

In the two days since they had arrived they had eaten enough for an army, Dack supplying all the food they could eat. Two of the children had not made it past the first few hours.

" Now, what variety of story would you like. One of fairies, leprechaun's and elf's or one of dragons, Knights of old and beautiful princesses?" He heard the door open and JD stepped inside the room.

JD gestured with his head.

"I shall return quickly my little cherubs." He moved off the chair and over to the door. They stepped out into the hallway and shut the door.

When they had heard the shots, Ezra had sent JD to investigate.

"It was Chris." JD's eyes were wide, he fidgeted. "There were two men in the saloon asking about the wagon." He glanced up and down the hallway. "Chris went in and braced them, Josiah said he'd never seen Chris like that, but he said Buck took a bottle and near finished it after the fight. He wouldn't talk to Josiah about it and neither Chris nor Buck can be found right now." JD leaned against the wall. Chris Larabee had been in a two on one gun fight and he had out drawn both of them and he had missed it. "Bartender told Josiah that there were three men; that one of them men took off after having a couple drinks. Chris don't know that and neither does Buck, could be more of them is going to show up."

Ezra thought a moment. "Have you told Nathan yet?"

"No."

"He's with Vin. Tell him what you just told me. I'll tell the kids I have to tell them the story tomorrow. Tell Nathan to ask the old woman how many she thought there were that rob them." He put his hand on the doorknob, looking at JD. "I'll be back in a little while; I think I know where Mr. Wilmington is." Or at least he though he knew who's room he was in. Ezra went in, finding only Jessie was awake, and the boy was near sleep. It didn't take more then an apology to escape the story telling and Ezra put on his hat and coat and went out into the hallway.

He hoped it had quit raining. The last girl Buck had talked about had lived on the edge of town. The ground was still standing with water and the wind had turned bitterly cold. As he stepped out of the hotel and onto the board walk he was at least happy to see a glimpse of the moon and parting clouds, even if the wind was howling. He put a hand to his hat, pulled his short coat tighter and headed down toward the west end of town.

He was near the last building when he smelled the cheroot, he recognized the smell, it was one of the one's Chris smoked. Maybe he wouldn't have to find Buck to find Chris.

He moved behind the building, following the direction of the wind and his nose. He saw the solid black horse first and then saw the flat crown of Chris's hat. He was standing at the edge of the building in the wind break, his saddled horse standing next to him.

"Get lost Ezra. . .!" The words were an angry hiss.

Ezra stopped and weighed his chances with the gunslinger. He started onward. He saw that the horse was saddled. That was definitely not a good sign.

"Guess you don't listen."

"Ah, but Mr. Larabee I do listen, and quite well I may add." He knew how much living in Four Corners had changed him, and he thought next to himself, Chris had seemed to change the most. He also understood a driving anger, but unlike Chris, his was bottled and stuffed, he kept his anger on a fine delicate line. He was as afraid of his anger, as he was of dying. Chris had sought anger and death for three years and had just begun to want to live. Ezra, after hearing what JD had said about the way Chris had braced the two men, had a feeling he knew what Chris was putting himself through. And he also knew the only one Chris might have talked it over with was laying flat in bed, half out of his mind with fever. Ezra also thought that was one of the reasons Chris had gone off, Vin.

"Leave, Ezra. . ." Chris's voice was a growling snarl.

Ezra was close enough now to see Chris eyes glinting in the moonlight

"Living is a hard thing to do." Ezra stepped up against the building, placing his back against it as Chris had done.

"What?"

He heard the tone, saw the blond head turn toward him.

Ezra reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out the flask. He opened it and handed it to his startled comrade. "You move through this world with the cards life has dealt you, looking for your destruction." Chris didn't take the flask. "Somewhere along the way something happens and you find yourself beginning to choose your battles with more care and you find that life might---"

"I said leave." The anger was still there but the bitterness was lower.

"Might just start to hold things---"

Chris whirled and in one fluid motion grabbed Ezra by the lapels of his jacket and pushed him back against the rough texture of the building.

Ezra could see the torment on Chris face. He didn't fight, he remained still, relaxed. He looked straight into those blue eyes. "Our old selves are never far away, it takes time---" Chris put a forearm to his throat applying enough pressure to silence the gambler.

"You don't know anything about that." Chris's voice was seething with anger. He had his face within inches of Ezra's. He saw those green eyes staring calmly at him and it infuriated him. For one brief, stark moment he thought about killing this man.

Ezra saw the thought and tensed and then Chris was stepping back, away from him, swearing under his breath.

Ezra straightened his clothing; he knew the rage in Chris had left. He put the flask to his lips; his hands were shaking just a bit. He had come close, very close.

Chris felt the rage leave; it was like a wick going out. He looked down at his hands in the moonlight and found them shaking. He drew in a breath and held it. He silently commanded the inner shakes to stop. He felt a light touch on the side of his arm and with out turning his body he looked. Ezra's hand and the flask were there. Reaching, he took the flask and took a sip of the brandy that Ezra kept in it. He felt it burn down his throat and settle the fire that had burned in his stomach. The shakes quit.

Ezra drew a breath. "There was a third rider, he departed before you got to the saloon." Ezra stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Chris, looking out over the cold, wet, dark night. He really hadn't trusted his voice not to show how shaky he still felt, but his voice betrayed nothing. "The old woman said there were ten to fifteen in the gang, I believe we still have ten or so to deal with."

Chris remained still, looking out across the landscape. He was weary. He hadn't slept much in the last couple nights, standing vigil over Vin. The rage and anger that had surfaced was now gone and had drained him.

It had been so instant, so commanding. Like an old friend coming back to him and yet he found the friend distasteful, bitter, unlikable, and uncontrollable.

Once it had gotten a hold of him, it had driven him blindly.

Ezra remained silent. He could tell by the way Chris was standing he was thinking about what had happened and he had a pretty good idea that Chris was seeing how much he had changed since the seven of them had come together. He saw Chris take another sip of the brandy and hand it back to him.

"Ezra---"

"Well Mr. Larabee I think we should seek out the others, trouble is coming." He hated apologies. He turned and walked back the way he had come.

Chris drew in a long breath and held it for a couple minutes until his lungs burned, then let it out slowly. He had planned on riding out, away from everything. Life was becoming too complicated.

He gathered the reins on the black and walked back to the stable to put the horse back up.

Vin woke slowly, what ever was on his chest was warm, felt good and stank like hell. His eyes watered slightly when he got them open. "What is that smell?" His voice was hoarse and hurt some.

"Onion."

He saw a pair of blue eyes, hair the color of honey, a young woman come into focus. He though he had seen her in is dreams. She smiled down at him and put a hand to his forehead. "Fevers broke." She put a hand to his chest.

He looked down and found the source of the warmth and stench. There was something plastered to his chest.

He watched her as she reached over and took a glass of water and putting her hand under his head she lifted his head and put the glass to him lips. He drank, feeling the coolness of the water slip down his throat, it felt wonderful.

He heard a door open as she laid his head back. He saw her eyes look over to the door and a smile cross her face. He tried to look sideways but found he just didn't have the strength.

"He's awake and the fever broke, the poultice worked well." He saw her stand.

Chris came into view. Vin blinked. Chris looked worn, tired and haggard. Vin had a feeling that he, probably looked better then Chris did right now. He saw the look Chris gave her and then those blue eyes were looking at him.

"Hey Pard, your looking better." Chris sat down in the chair next to the bed. He caught the smell of the poultice and straightened up in the chair. "What the hell---"

"It's a poultice, help draws the lungs out." She looked over at the pair of them. "I need to get back to work. . ."

Chris came to his feet. "No, I want you to get your kids and go down and stay with that girl Buck's been with."

"Aileen?"

"Yeah, you go down there with your kids and you stay there 'tell this is over, one of them left before I got there." He saw her understand what he had said. She nodded and headed for the door. She wanted to get her kids out of there.

"Melanie. . ."

She stopped, half way out the door and looked back at him.

She saw him trying to form what he wanted to say, she smiled and went out of the door.

Vin saw the look on Chris' face and knew there was something going on.

He tried to sit up a little.

Chris heard the movement and turned toward Vin. "I don't think so…" He took the couple steps over toward the bed and put a hand on Vin's shoulder. "Your staying put until Nathan tells you."

Vin tried to push up but he strength just wasn't there, he dropped back to the bed. "How many survived?" He gave Chris a hard look.

"The old woman, two of the boys, one of the girls, and the younger man and woman" Chris saw the look on Vin's face. "You did what you could Vin, they just weren't strong enough." Chris looked at the door as it opened.

The other five came in.

The plan was drawn up and things were readied. Nathan had made Vin stay in bed when the rest left to prepare. JD and Buck went to store and bought extra rounds for every one. Josiah had said that Dack would help cover them from his restaurant. Another blast of storm clouds came and went, leaving the town wet and cold. It was coming onto evening when they rode in.

They stopped at the saloon and dismounted. There were twelve of them. They were all cold, wet and looking to get their property and their money. They went through the bat wing doors and headed to the bar.

"Ahh...Gentleman, what may I get you?" Ezra's soft southern drawl came from behind the bar. He produced a bottle and several glasses. Lining up the glasses on the top of the bar he poured the amber colored whiskey into them. "Please, gentleman drink up!"

They spread out along the length of the bar and drank the shots down. The cowboy who had come through the door last looked around the bar. There was a tall man over in the corner, a turned down hat, coat with some fancy Indian beads on it. There was a long rifle across the table in front of him.

Dale Williams turned his back to the bar and looked the room over. There was one other man in the saloon. He had hoped it was Panyon.

It wasn't

He gave the man a long look, he suddenly didn't like the idea that Panyon and Martin were not here. He turned back to the bar, looking at the bartender who had left two bottles and walked down to the far end of the bar. He glanced over his shoulder at the man dressed in black and saw a pair of cold blue eyes staring back at him.

He turned, looking at the man in black. "Looking for one of my men, sandy haired fellow, name of Panyon, Del Panyon. He come in here asking about a wagon that got stole from me."

Chris sat with his hands flat on the table. The anger was still there, but the rage was gone. Just as he was about to speak Nathan's voice came from the batwing doors.

Nathan stepped in through the doors; his dark brown eyes were narrowed in anger. "Got stole from you!" Nathan's voice vibrated. "Way I heard it, you robbed and cheated these people and were gonna taken 'em to Mexico and sell them."

"Ain't no d - - -"

Chris' chair scraping the floor silenced the outburst of the man standing next to Dale Williams.

Dale Williams was not a dumb man, and he was a cautious man. He had hired a lot of gunmen in his life and the man in black was a gunman. He heard the click of a hammer being drawn back and glanced to right. The big man had lifted the rifle from the table and had cocked it, he also now had a pistol in his hand. He looked back at the black and then at the gunman. He looked up and down the bar at his twelve hardened men, a smile appeared.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "There are only three of you." He stepped away from the bar, his men turning with him, ready to fight.

"Four." Ezra's soft accent came from the end of the bar, his hands produced a scatter gun, he cocked back both barrels.

"Five." JD stepped in through the batwing doors and stepped to Nathan's right, moving half way over toward Josiah, his brace of pistols already drawn.

"Six." Buck stepped in through the still swinging door, his gun already drawn, he moved toward Nathan, past him and a few feet toward Chris.

"Seven." Vin's voice came from the edge of the stairs. He was at the rail, his shortened Winchester clasp in both hands.

Dale Williams looked back at the man in black, he waited half a beat. "There are still only seven of you."

Chris smiled. "Oh that's more then enough."

Williams felt a warning go off in his head, the man in black had not spoken as if bragging, he had spoken with an air of confidence, he knew. Williams drew in a breath and let it out.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Chris' voice carried just a touch of sadness.

Williams looked down the line at his men, they were ready to fight, and he knew none of them wanted to go to prison, including himself, besides they may get lucky. He'd already talked to long. "Boys- - -" he went for his gun.

Dale Williams thought himself to be fast, but the bullet took him in the chest before he even cleared leather. He had seen the man in black draw and he was fast, damn fast and then as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor he remembered. Seven, seven men, they were from Four Corners. They were the ones they had been avoiding for over two weeks. The floor rushed up to him and he rolled on his side as he heard gunfire going off all over, he was sorry he had led his men into this, he had never liked trading in human flesh but . . .

The thick blue smoke hung heavy in the saloon eight men lay dead on the floor. Nathan moved to help the wounded, there were four outlaws, and Ezra and JD.

Nathan looked at the JD first, he had been nicked in the upper arm, nothing really bad. Ezra had been standing next to the mirror, several bullets had struck and shattered it, a couple pieces had cut his cheek and the back of his hand.

Of the outlaws one was serious, shot through the lung, two were shoulder wounds and the last man, had thrown his hands up when his gun and three fingers had been shot out of his hand by Josiah.

Buck looked over at Chris for a long moment something passing between them. Buck gave a slight nod of the head then turned and went over to JD. The Kid's face was stark white, his dark brown eyes were wide. Buck made a tisking sound at him. "JD, how many times have I told you to turn sideways slightly, less of a target boy." He looked at the bleeding wound. He plucked at JD's jacket and shirt. "Now you'll have to have Casey patch it up."

The town's undertaker came into the room with his assistant, he went to work removing the bodies, there were now nine dead.

Chris looked at the stairs; Vin was slowly making his way down. He was still a little washed out looking.

Vin looked up to see Chris' eyes on him. He pointed with the Winchester. "The fellar doing the talkin' was the one I seen at the cabin." He came to the bottom step and stopped.

They all turned toward the batwing doors as they swung open. It was Alva and Grandma Mabel. They stepped into the room and moved toward the dead men, Mabel looked at them, making a sign for evil as she passed the one Vin had pointed to. Alva helped Mabel over toward where Vin and Chris were standing. Grandma Mabel's eyes sparkled as she stepped up to Vin. Reaching she took his hand in her's.

"When you come ta us out of dat storm all I could think of was dat we had gone from bad ta worst. Den you spoke, said we had nothing ta fear from you and dat your word was your oath and I thought dat maybe, just maybe dat der Lord had answered ma prayers and He has, Yes the Lord has..." She patted him on the hand a couple more time and the Alva took her back out.

They all watched her go.

Josiah stepped up to the bar and retrieved the bottle that Ezra had left there and grabbed up several glasses, heading toward the table where Vin and Chris were near.

Dack had arrived just after Alva and Grandma Mabel and was carting off the two who were still alive to the jail as Nathan deemed them fit to be moved.

They gathered around the table, together again as seven...

-30-