By: KellyA
Part 1Vin Tanner focused his spyglass, capturing the thin trail of smoke that rose over the distant ridge, staining the sky. His hand tightened around the metal cylinder as his stomach clenched, knowing what lay at the tail end of that smoke. His horse pranced under him as his legs inadvertently communicated his dismay and anger.
"Damn, looks like we 'ave another one." Vin handed the spyglass to the darkly dressed gunslinger who sat astride a black gelding.
Chris Larabee brought the telescope to his eye; his jaw clenched at the sight of the smoldering marker, like a dirty finger stirring up the blue expanse of sky. He exhaled and his shoulders slumped as the telescope dropped to his side. Chris looked over his shoulder to regard the three other lawmen who sat despairingly in their saddles, their somber faces mirroring his own. The five lawmen had been scouting the area around Four Corners for the past two days, hoping not to see the dark smoke designating another home destroyed.
Larabee's face was barely discernible beneath his wide-brimmed black hat, but the perceptive tracker knew the thoughts playing through his head. The stalwart gunslinger blamed himself. Chris took his duties as peacekeeper very seriously, and at times, very personally. Vin gathered up his reins and brought his horse to attention with a gentle nudge to its side. Man and beast reluctantly set out toward the distant beacon of smoke.
The sight of the burned out homestead was a familiar one, although, no less tragic to the five lawmen. The scene held a more calamitous and obscene allure to Chris Larabee, evoking past images that he constantly fought to subdue. His icy blue orbs gazed at the small homestead that lay smoldering on the plains; its dark charred remains standing stark against the azure sky. Another home, another time flashed before him, and an imperceptible shudder gripped his body as he swallowed back the emotions churning up inside.
Wilmington's hand clenched tight around the reins when he noticed the familiar grief trying to take hold of his long-time friend. He also fought against seeing the past, rising up in the remains of the burned out home; hearing himself badgering Chris to stay another day in Mexico, then to see Chris crumble in despair at the sight of his family, burned past recognition.
Chris's face scrunched at the scent of burned flesh that drifted past on a light breeze. He glanced over to see Ezra remove a white handkerchief from his pocket and place it over his nose. Buck pulled his bandana up to cover his nose and mouth. They had stopped several yards short of the house, the horses growing agitated by the smell of burnt flesh and wood.
The odor was familiar to four of the five lawmen-the stench of death, conjuring up inescapable memories within the older men. Buck suspected that the burned out barn next to the house probably held some unfortunate animals, which were adding to the stench.
"Maybe you better stay here, JD," Buck suggested when he noticed the unusual shade of green that suddenly colored his young friend's boyish face.
"I'm fine," JD choked out, not wanting to show his weakness as he struggled to tie his bandana around his head. He was fighting a battle with his stomach, which was demanding withdrawal from the source of its distress.
"Mr. Dunne." Ezra's muffled southern drawl rose up from behind. "You have been most fortunate not to have been subjected to such carnage in your young life. Please, don't take offense if we only wish to continue your good fortune."
A small smile graced Buck's face upon hearing the cardshark's argument. He knew they couldn't protect the young gunslinger from the cruelties of the world forever. However, the longer they could, the better JD's outlook on life would be. It was not good to start out a life so full of bloodshed and brutality. You only had to look into the eyes of six other gunslingers to see what damage that could do; they all harbored demons, which at times pervaded their dreams.
Dunne eyed the fancy dressed southerner, at first surprised by his level of concern, then suspicious of his motive. JD's placid expression fell away. He didn't want to be protected and hated being treated like a kid. It was a constant battle with the other peacekeepers to prove his mettle. "I can do this," he tersely assured, his young pride stiffening his backbone and causing him to sit taller in the saddle. He tried not to breathe in too deeply, or through his nose.
Vin bowed his head, hiding a grim smile behind his long hair. The kid just didn't know what was good for him. He guessed that sometimes a person just had to find out the hard way.
Buck was prepared to pull JD from his horse and tie the mule-headed young man down until he saw the shake of Chris' head. This was JD's decision, and he would have to live with the consequences in his nightmares.
tbc