Disclaimer: I don't really know if Mary had a sister, but I thought it would make an interesting fanfic, so here you go. I don't own the Seven, or any of the other charries, except Isabelle Manning Enjoy
Chapter 1Mary Travis stood in her newspaper office, skimming through the letters she'd recently received. She took in a shaky sigh as she glimpsed a postmark she thought she'd never see again. It was from Connecticut, near the town her parents' had lived in for the last few years…before they had passed away three weeks ago. The handwriting was elegant, though sloped as if the writer was in a hurry. Mary tore open the envelope and hastily read along with the familiar writing.
"Dearest sister, I am writing to inform you that Mother and Daddy bequeathed in their will that I could not be trusted to live on my own after their deaths. Therefore, they have made it their last wish for me to be entrusted into your care for the duration of a year, and then I am to be given my share of the estate and pushed out into the world. I know this is rather sudden; their lawyer made it quite clear that they wanted neither of us to know the plot until after death. I realize it will also be bothersome to have your eighteen-year-old sister living off you. I will do my part as best I can, but I still have a taste for liquor. Just warn your seven gentlemen friends of my behavior and I am sure they will lock me up in a cell to 'sleep it off'. I cannot wait to see how big Billy has grown. Forever yours, Isabelle."
Mary closed her eyes, silently asking for patience. She was a good ten years older than Isabelle. And, although the younger of the Mannings' two children had matured somewhat, Mary knew Isabelle was still rebellious at heart. She drank too much, flirted with any man around, and was quite the burden to every boarding school she attended. It was true that the girl was brilliant, but she used her intellect nonchalantly to get whatever she wanted, like a spoiled child.
Mary never would have believed she remembered the Seven. She'd sent her sister newspaper clippings and brief stories, telling her all the wonderful things they had done, but Isabelle had never seemed to absorb it. Maybe she could be taught to listen. And let it sink in.
Mary wrapped herself in her mourning shawl, in respect for her dearly departed (though currently believed to be insane) parents, and went out into town. Chris Larrabee was standing nearby, leaning against a post, carving a new toy for Billy. Her son was watching on the stairs at Chris' feet. Mary smiled at the sight before approaching her friend with apprehension in her eyes.
"Billy, could you run and play with Buck, please?" Mary glanced down at her child, smiling brightly as if she was not worried, though she knew Chris had seen the look in her eyes. When Billy had gone, she returned her eyes to Chris, the look returning to her features. "Read this."
Chris skimmed over the letter, laughing at what Mary thought was the part about the liquor. He handed it back to her. "She can't really be that bad, can she?"
Mary's smile returned briefly. "You have no idea." She sighed for the second time that morning and sat down in the spot recently vacated by her son. "She was kicked out of five boarding schools before she finally graduated. She didn't want to go to college, or marry any of the young men who came to call, after promising millions of things to each of them." She glanced over at Chris, who had taken the spot beside her. "I'm all for independence, especially in women, Chris, but she wasn't independent. She lived off Mother and Father and didn't even bother to find a job. She was horrible. And she had a taste for Father's single malt brandy. She had a little every night before bed. Father knew, of course, but he indulged her because she was his little girl." Mary looked up and down the street. "I hope this life is good for her, maybe straighten her out. But I don't know if I can handle her under my roof."
"Don't worry, Mary. We'll help you as best as we can. You know that." Chris smiled encouragingly. "You can help her become a great woman. I'm sure of it."
Mary flushed under Chris' gaze. He could always make her blush. He was a good friend and so dear to Billy. It made her feel safe knowing he was there for her.
"Thank you."
The moment was broken as a wild stallion raced through the street, sending up dust in its wake. The rider slowed it down and hopped off the beautiful black horse. It was a young woman, shoulder length blonde hair, deep sea green eyes, and a short, round-tip nose. She had full pink lips that looked as if they broke easily into a smile. She wore a long skirt with a white blouse and riding boots. Bits of twigs and leaves were in her hair. She looked wind burned. When she looked around the downtown area and her eyes rested on Mary, her lips parted into a thousand-watt smile.
She ran up to Mary and gave her a big hug. "I've missed you so!"
The look of surprise melted off her face. "I've missed you too, Belle." She realized she sincerely meant it. Yes, her sister could be trouble, but she was her little sister. She'd loved her dearly as a child, and although she done some naughty things, she loved her now. She'd take good care of her: help her get a job, find her own home, get her settled into adulthood in a way their parents had never been able to do.
Mary pulled back and examined her sister from head to toe. "Look at you! Whatever have you been doing?"
Isabelle laughed melodiously. "Oh, I got so bored sitting in the Coach that I borrowed a horse from a young man who was riding with me and came on ahead. He should be here in a few hours to reclaim his horse." Isabelle looked longingly at the animal. "It's a pity really. I got the feeling that the poor thing is always ridden too slowly and not often enough. It's got a wild heart." A glow almost like recognition lit in Isabelle's eyes.
Mary smiled. "I didn't know you could ride, Belle."
Isabelle turned back to her sister. "Of course I can. One of the boys who wanted to marry me had a farm and he taught me. His horses were too tame, though. This one was amazing." Belle's face shone brightly. She glanced around the town again. "Where is my nephew? You did tell him I was coming, didn't you?"
Mary laughed. "Dear, Billy's off to play. And I only found out this morning."
Isabelle bit her lip thoughtfully. "Must have come as an awful shock."
Mary nodded slightly. "I was shocked at first. Then bewildered. But now, I think we can work something out. We'll find you a nice job and get you all settled. Alright?"
Isabelle hugged her sister tightly. "OH, Mary I'm so glad you're not upset. I've wanted to come visit for so long, but after all that's happened…well, I didn't think you'd want to see me."
Mary had been upset when Isabelle had tried to steal the man that would eventually become her husband, but she had moved on. "That's all forgotten. Where are your bags?"
"With the stage. I told you it'd be by later." Isabelle's smile never seemed to waver. She finally took notice of Chris. "You must be Mr. Larrabee. I know all about you. It's a pleasure." She held her hand out to him.
Chris looked at Isabelle's hand and finally grasped it briefly. "Miss Manning. I just recently learned about you."
Belle looked her sister, a look of feigned pain on her face. "That hurts Mary quite contrary." She kissed her sister's cheek. "No matter. I think I'll go and have a little drink." She noticed the look of horror on Mary's face. "Just one!" She quickly added. "I just need one little shot and I'm done for the night. Promise." She batted her eyelashes.
Mary heaved a heavy sigh. "If you want. Just don't come home drunk."
Isabelle laughed again. "Of course not." And then she headed down toward the saloon.
A/N: Let me know what you think…