Hold On Mr. Larabee
Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 1
They had been trailing known horse thief, Dick Peters, for three days. He and his brother, Frank, had stolen two horses from the livery, leaving Yosemite lying in a stall; bleeding from a blow to the head. As soon as the peacekeepers had been told what had happened, Chris, Buck, Vin, and Ezra had taken off after the thieves. And Dick Peters had been giving Vin a run for his money ever since. The tracker was using every piece of knowledge he had, to keep the peacekeepers on the thieves' trail.
They were currently looking at another dead end and Vin was mad enough to chew nails. Leaning over from his perch on Pony, Chris Larabee tried to see what the tracker was staring so fixedly at; Vin Tanner stood up from his crouch and kicked at a rock.
"Problem," Chris asked as he scratched at his chin; moving his gaze out the horizon, hoping beyond hope that something would materialize. They all wanted to get off the blasted trail and back to town, back to the comforts of civilization. Unfortunately, it appeared that fortune would not be smiling on them today. This afternoon had been a scorcher and with not a cloud in the sky, the night promised to be just the opposite.
Cursing under his breath, Vin looked back at his companions, "The trail's gone cold, again, and I have absolutely no clue where to look next." The tracker continued to walk back and forth looking closely at the ground around him, hoping that something would stand out, no matter how insignificant.
"Don't upset yourself needlessly, Mr. Tanner. We have the upmost confidence in your abilities." Ezra remarked as he casually rode up next to the gunslinger, "Do we not, Mr. Larabee?" Ezra pointedly looked at Chris, clearly expecting a response to his statement.
Chris shook himself from his wool gathering and glanced at Ezra, "What did you say?"
Sighing deeply, Ezra admonished the gunslinger, "My dear Mr. Larabee, if you had stayed involved in the conversation, I, Ezra P. Standish, would not have to repeat myself. May I ask what was far more interesting than what I had to say?"
Prickly tempers had risen right along with the temperature; Chris sent the gambler a heated glare, "Well, Ezra. Before you started blathering on, I was thinking that a few miles to the east is an old farm, can't remember the name of the family living there, but maybe they would have seen Peters, it's the only spread for miles around." Chris sat up in the saddle stretching the kinks from his back.
"Sounds like an idea to me, besides my ass is killing me. I haven't been in the saddle this long in a coon's age." Buck chimed in from where he was waiting at the back of the group. "And I know I'm not the only one hurtin', I've seen you scooting around on your saddle, Ez."
"My posterior is not up for discussion, Mr. Wilmington. And as a point of information, I don't think any of us have been out on the 'trail' for an extended period in recent memory." Ezra huffed and tried to find a more comfortable spot in his saddle. He had been able to ignore the growing discomfort for some time, but the ladies man had just brought it back to the forefront of thought.
Vin glanced up at Buck and Ezra, noticing how both were in fact sitting gingerly in the saddle, grinning he glanced at Chris, who just stared back down at him, "Your 'posterior' hurting too? Think you can ride on a little further?" Vin asked as smirked up at his friend; before climbing back up Peso and settling confidently into the saddle.
"Let's check out that farm up ahead, and call it an evening." Chris turned Pony to the east, not even questioning if the others would follow, and definitely not giving the tracker the satisfaction of knowing that he was as trail weary as Buck and Ezra were.
Buck pulled General up alongside Ezra and Chaucer, "He didn't mention his hind end. You think he's hurtin' as much as we are?"
Vin rode past Buck and Ezra, "You two are too concerned with how everyone's seats are feeling, might start to think I'm ridin' with some little boys. Buck up, Buck."
"Ha ha! Just because you live in the saddle and we choose not to doesn't make us little boys." Buck called out in indignation. "Let's get a move on, Ez. I'm ready to call it a day."
~o~
Sometime later they had arrived at the farm, but it been in a condition that none were expecting. It appeared to be devoid of life and the house had been boarded up. As they rode up, only the wind rustling through the leaves on some nearby oaks could be heard. Somewhere in the distance an unsecured door banged against a wall. The place just seemed creepy to Buck's way of thinking; there were no chickens loose in the yard, no cow bawling to be milked, or pigs rooting in the muck. Nothing but the leaves and that damn loose door.
"I suggest we take a quick look around and then depart for a friendlier locale." Ezra chimed in as he dropped down out of the saddle, squatting down to stretch his tight thigh muscles.
Chris snorted and hopped off of Pony's back with a grimace; that he quickly hid behind a sarcastic smile, "What, are you afraid the Bogeyman's going to get you? It's just a deserted farm, the scariest thing here is me, so let's look around and go from there."
The peacekeepers spent the next several minutes checking every possible nook and cranny. Chris's frustration with the whole situation had grown by leaps and bounds until he was ready to throttle Peters within an inch of his life, if they ever found him and his no good brother that is. As Chris stalked off toward the barn to continue his search, the ground was unexpectedly gone from beneath his feet. He only had time to let out a startled gasp before the gunslinger found himself falling long and fast. He landed with a resounding splash, when he suddenly met up with a wall of water, the breath knocked from him his lungs. He sank like a rock.