Fraudulent Beginnings
Summary: A rash of misdemeanor crimes is just the beginning of interesting times for the seven peacekeepers.
Warning: Disciplinary spanking of minor children. If you do not like or approve of this PLEASE to NOT read this story. Some harsh language.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Magnificent Seven characters and I am writing this just for fun, for no personal gain.
A/N: For those of you following my NCIS fic, do not despair. I have not abandoned it. I have just really had writers block when it comes to that story so I decided to write a bit of something else and see if that helped spur my muse. I will definitely be getting back to Beyond the Legacy as soon as I get over the block.
Chapter 1
A rather harried buckskin clad tracker plopped down heavily in a seat at the table where the town peacekeepers were gathered for a drink. Without a word, he poured himself a whiskey and downed it in one swallow.
"Next time, Mz. Hollis gots a complaint, you get ta deal with the ol' bitty, Josiah. I ain't got the patience fer it," Vin said testily. "It'd take a saint I'm a thinkin'."
The collected men grinned at their friend.
"What's her problem, anyhow?" Buck queried, his mustache twitching in amusement.
"Says someone stole her prize hen outta her chicken coop. Ain't never seen a body kick up sech a fuss over a bird!"
"Last week has seen a number of complaints about things gone missing. Seems that last wagon train left a thief behind," Chris observed his brow creasing under a lock of stray blond hair.
"Usually see a cutpurse, a lifter, or the like but what kinda knuck steals chickens, pies, and apples?" JD shook his head bewildered.
"A hungry one," Josiah answered.
"But food isn't all that's gone missin'," Nathan reminded the group.
"Indeed the wide variety of items pilfered indicates we are not dealing with our usual reprobate, and if I may suggest, not many adults would fix a door to drop rotten eggs on the proprietor of a business he had burglarized," Ezra observed.
"You think the rash of pranks is tied in with the thefts?" Josiah queried.
"But what kinda kid steals a chicken?" Buck demanded.
"Mz. Potter did say a passel o' candy went missin'," Vin added thoughtfully. "Not somethin' you'd expect from a full growed thief."
"Alright, so we need to keep an eye out for any spare kids about town," Chris gave a satisfied nod taking a sip of his whiskey.
"If I might tender another suggestion," Ezra started, "The ones most likely to notice the presence of an unfamiliar child in town would be those of similar ilk."
"Good, point Ez," the black clad leader noted, "I'll talk to Billy."
"We can ask the potter kids, too," Josiah added.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"No, ain't seen nobody," ten-year-old Levi Potter shook his head.
Surprise was evident on six-year-old Grace Potter's face and she looked as if she might be going to contradict her older brother.
"How about you Gracie?" Josiah asked kindly, kneeling on one knee to bring himself down to the little girl's level.
"She ain't seen nobody new neither," Levi insisted with a glower for his little sister.
Josiah's pale blue eyes were fixed on the little girl who clung to her doll, biting her lip. "Is that true, sweetheart. You know your Mama would want you to tell me the truth."
Wide brown eyes looked at the former preacher and she slowly shook her head. "Levi and some of the big boys lost all their spare pennies to a strange boy in a poker game couple days past."
Josiah leveled a stern glare at Levi. "I thought you promised your mama last month that you'd not gamble anymore."
"She's nothin' but a stupid baby! Don't know what she's talkin' about!" the boy insisted.
"I am not!" the girl replied hotly. "You just don't want Mama ta find out watcha been up to."
"Shut up!" the ten-year-old angrily pushed his sister to the ground before Josiah could stop him. Grabbing the boy before the lad could do anymore damage to his now sobbing sister Josiah offered a firm smack to Levi's backside and set him none too gently atop a barrel sitting on the boardwalk.
"If you know what's good for you, you won't move from that spot," the large man warned before reaching to pick the crying little girl up off the wooden planks. "You okay, angel?" the silver haired peacekeeper asked kindly.
The little girl threw her arms around the muscled older man, burrowing into his chest like a wounded animal. It had been hard for Grace since her pa was murdered. Her mother had taken over the running of the store and had very few minutes to spare in any given day and lately Levi had gotten just plain mean at times. She missed her Pa's strong comforting arms, which had always seemed to make everything okay. Josiah ran a soothing hand over the girl's brown pigtails, and across her back, patting gently until her tears subsided.
With a sniff Grace finally lifted her head. "I'm okay, thank you Mr. Sanchez."
Setting the girl gently on the ground Josiah dug into his pocket and pulled out a shiny coin. "Why don't you go buy a piece of licorice from your ma?"
With a grin, Grace accepted the money, threw her arms around the big man for one last hug, and then ran off to do as he suggested.
Shaking his head and smiling as he watched the girl hurry down the walk, Josiah turned his attention back to the wayward boy who hadn't dared to move a muscle. Folding his arms and offering the boy a stern glare Josiah demanded, "What do you have to say for yourself, son?"
"I didn't mean ta hurt her," he mumbled contritely.
"I reckon you owe her an apology then, don't you think?"
"Yes, sir."
"Seems you've been finding your share of trouble lately and that's not fair to your ma whose been working hard to take care of you and your sister. I've a mind to take you to the bathhouse, wash yer mouth out for the lies you been tellin' me today, and then put you over my knee and tan your britches."
"Please…please don't," the boy choked out shaking his head, "I'll be good. I promise."
"Tell me about this new kid in town."
"Ain't much ta tell. Don't know where he come from. He's bit younger than me I guess. Got kinda curly reddish gold hair. Really good at cards. He's been winnin' all the - " The boy broke off, looking guiltily up at the man who had been working diligently to restore the church.
"Go on."
"Well, the games the boys sometimes play."
"Which games? Where and when?"
Levi sighed in defeat. He'd only just talked the bigger boys into letting him play and that was all ruined for sure now. Still, he had no desire to rile up the large man before him. He'd heard the Bible verse about sparing the rod and spoiling the child after all and he guessed the preacher man had too. Levi hadn't been spanked since before his pa died and he was in no hurry reacquaint himself with that experience. He quickly told all he knew about the makeshift card games some of the older boys had arranged unbeknownst to their parents.
"Alright," Josiah lifted Levi off the barrel, "I'm tellin' you right now I best not hear of you bein' a part of such things again. Now let's go talk to your Ma about all that you've been up to."
"Do we gotta?"
"Yes we do. Confession is good for the soul."
"It ain't good fer the body, I guarantee you that," the boy mumbled and Josiah grinned, resting a comforting hand on the boy's neck.
"Your mother's a fine God-fearing woman, I'm sure she'll forgive you your indiscretions, son."
Levi's shoulders slumped. His ma wasn't likely to let him out of her sight for months once she heard he'd been gambling again. Not to mention the lying and pushing his sister. He'd be lucky if she didn't go fetch a wooden spoon from the kitchen. She hadn't had the heart to offer much punishment since the children had lost their pa, but Levi was worried he might have just changed that in one fell swoop.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"Okay, I'll see ya that ten and raise ya two cents and a smoke," a young voice said confidently.
"What exactly are you boys up to?" a cold voice demanded. Six pairs of eyes looked up and froze momentarily in fright at the infamous Larabee glare. Almost instantly, though, at least three of the lads were scrambling to escape, but found to their dismay that the frightening gunman was not alone. Buck grabbed the two Hanson boys, and Vin quickly caught a strawberry blond lad that no one recognized.
"We're just havin' a game, Mr. Larabee," Daniel Parker, the oldest of the youth assembled said in a shaking voice, trying to act like this was not a big deal.
"That so?" Chris demanded, yanking the lighted cigarette from the boy's hand and tossing it into the dirt only to crush it under his heel. "Your pa know where you're at Danny?"
"No sir," the boy dipped his head.
"You're gonna go straight home and tell him. I'll be round tomorrow to make certain you did."
The boy's face had lost all color, "Yes, sir."
"Buck take those two knuckleheads home and make sure their parents know where they've been. JD why don't you take Jimmy and Emmett down to the saloon. I'm guessing their uncle brought them to town. He won't likely care what they've been up to but I'm guessin' their ma, aunt, and grandma will. One of us can ride out and talk to them tomorrow."
The cousins eyed each other nervously.
"Guess, that just leaves you," Chris said, looking into the frightened green eyes of the boy Vin held. He was in desperate need of a bath, his clothes were ragged, and his feet were bare. Despite all that, the street waif had a face that was sure to charm the most crotchety schoolmarm.
As the black clad gunman slowly approached the lad started struggling viciously to escape, but the sharpshooter held tight and gave the lad a shake. "Settle down or I'll give ya somethin' ta fuss about," Vin said sternly. The boy stilled instantly, in awe of the long-haired sharpshooter.
"So where are your parents, boy?" Chris demanded.
"Pa's at the saloon."
"Really? What's your pa's name?"
"Frank Smith."
"Which saloon?"
"Don't know."
"Well, what I'm gonna do is take you over to the jail, and send one of my friends here to every saloon in town. They come back, and I find out you've lied to me, I'm gonna tan your backside. That sound fair?"
"Well, uh, he might uh not be there no more. He coulda left," the boy replied his voice breaking.
"Okay. So where are you stayin'?"
"We're camped outside a town."
"That's the second time you've lied to me, boy. I'm warning you. Third time earns you one hell of a tanning."
The boy swallowed, his eyes darting from the frightening gunman to the large silver-haired man, to the big black man, to the fancy dressed man in the red jacket and finally back to the blond man before him. "I, uh, don't know where my pa is. Been lookin' for him for months."
"And your ma?" Chris asked.
"She died awhile back."
"What's your name and how old are you?"
The boy bit his lip and looked down at his dirty feet. Chris tipped the boy's chin up with one finger. "You tell me the truth and you'll get to sleep comfortably in a real bed tonight after having a nice warm meal. You lie to me and you already know what's going to happen."
"Ethan," the boy whispered. "An' I'm ten." When the gunman cocked his eyebrow at the last bit the lad quickly added, "Really, I am. I know I look small, but I swear I am ten."
"Okay, Ethan, let's go get you some food, and have a little talk."
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
The curly headed stray surprised the peacekeepers. Once Ethan had relaxed, he was actually friendly, polite, and good spirited though it was quite obvious he had a mischievous streak about a mile long. He'd played a game of cards with Ezra and laughed at the gambler's card tricks, even accepting the deck to show the men a trick of his own. Both Buck and JD had lost a game of checkers to the bright lad before Chris had announced that it was time for little boys to be in bed. Josiah read Ethan a bedtime story and the boy had snuggled down for the comfortable sleep he was promised.
Thus it was that the next morning a well-fed, rested, and clean but very forlorn little boy sat before a stern Chris Larabee having confessed to all of the pranks and most of the local thefts. Despite his best efforts the boy had not been able to withstand the interrogation of the blond gunman. They had finally reached an impasse, however. Ethan had admitted to taking and eating all of the food but wouldn't tell the peacekeepers where to find the rest of the stolen property nor any more about where he had come from.
"Last chance, little boy," Chris growled. To his chagrin the reserved gunslinger found himself quite taken with the little urchin, but this only made his resolve all that more firm.
Fear engulfed the lad's cherubic face. The seven men had actually been quite decent to him but he had never in his short life encountered anyone as scary as the black clad man. Still there was no way he could give up the information Chris demanded of him.
"Now ah, hold on there, Mr. Larabee, don't be doin' nuthin' rash," Ethan said sending an endearing smile to the formidable man who had taken two steps in his direction. "Let's all just be reasonable."
"I'm more than willing to be reasonable, son. Tell me what you've done with the things you stole and you'll be able to sit to eat your noonday meal."
A look of desperation filled the boy's emerald eyes as Chris took another unyielding step in his direction. "I, I, I hid it…in, in a…in a tree...but I cain't remember where. It 'as dark and I thought someone was comin'," the boy said in a rush.
Chris looked skeptically at the lad before him. This struck him as a lie, but he really wanted to give the boy the benefit of the doubt.
"That so?"
"Uh huh."
Grabbing hold of Ethan's arm the gunman took a seat and pulled the child over his lap, landing a series powerful swats to the little thief's backside. "Well, you'd better start remembering and I had better not find out that you've lied to me or I'll be using my belt to finish this little lesson. No," SWAT! "More," SWAT! "Stealing" SWAT! Chris finished the spanking with two final heavy smacks to the boy's sit spot.
Chris stood the tearful boy between his legs and looked him in the eye. "Folks are going to want to know you've been punished for all you've done and that was just a parcel. You don't remember where you've hidden the rest of the loot you took and we'll be doing this again tomorrow but it's going to go a mite worse. Understood?"
Ethan's lip quivered and he rubbed the tears from his eyes before reaching back to rub the sting from his backside. Though the spanking hurt, he'd had far worse. The boy understood that this had been just a warning, and he really didn't want to experience a full tanning from the blond peacekeeper. "Yes sir." His freckled faced bobbed earnestly.
"I'm going to take you around and you are going to apologize to each and every person you've stolen from or otherwise wronged. Then you're going to offer to work off any debt owed. You'll do just that without any complaint or fuss. Until you've made up for any damages you are going to sleep right there in that jail cell." Chris pointed his finger at the holding cell. "You'll have a decent bed and plenty to eat, but you'll behave yourself or be one very sorry little boy. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sir."
"Okay, then." Chris reached out to ruffle the boy's hair and when the lad sniffed he dropped his arm to the child's shoulder giving an encouraging squeeze. Ethan couldn't help himself. He wrapped his little arms around the man who, despite some surprise, returned the child's embrace. It had been a long time since Ethan had had any physical affection from an adult and he wasn't above taking what he could get when he could get it.
"Vin, Josiah, why don't you take Ethan over to Mrs. Potter's so he can start in on his apologies. I'll meet you there." The assembled men started moving out of the jailhouse. "Ezra," Chris stopped the gambler before he could depart. Surprised, the well-dressed card player paused as his comrades continued out.
"You don't approve of what I done," it was more a statement than a question.
"I hardly see that it is my place to approve or disapprove," Ezra replied evenly. Unused to anyone being able to read his private opinions he was surprised that the unofficial leader of the seven men had noted his reaction to Ethan's punishment. In point of fact for the briefest moment, when Chris had grabbed the curly headed waif, Ezra's inclination was to pull his gun. The former conman's reaction was not rational, and he knew this. He trusted Chris Larabee more than any man alive and knew absolutely that he was no threat to their young charge.
"Ethan's got no place in a workhouse. I can tell he's a good kid at heart. Bit of correction now might go a long way… not to mention folks around here will go easier on him if they know he's taken a few licks for the trouble he's caused."
"You are right of course," the southerner drawled with a crease in his brow, "But I do not know why you feel the need to explain yourself to me."
Chris shrugged. Ezra had a point, the taciturn gunman usually explained himself to no man and he wasn't much of a talker generally. Chris had noticed the look in Ezra's eyes when he'd taken hold of Ethan, though. Hell he'd seen it in enough men over the years…the look of a man ready to go for his gun.
Taking a cheroot from his pocket Chris lit the end and inhaled before answering. "I know you didn't grow up with a pa around, didn't want you to get the wrong idea." The gunman paused, what he wasn't saying was that he had gotten the distinct impression that Ezra had been subject to some degree of harshness as a child, probably from some of the so called relatives his mother had left him with time and again. "It's not meant to be a way to take out your anger on someone weaker, the point is to help the youngin' learn something. Someday, when you have child of your own, you'll understand better what I'm saying."
Ezra's gold tooth flashed as he smiled, "I am hardly the domestic type, Mr. Larabee, so I highly doubt that I will ever have the opportunity of which you speak. I do however appreciate your taking the time to enlighten me. It seems your reputation as a the cold and ruthless 'bad element' is somewhat exaggerated."
Chris's eyes narrowed and he glared at his friend. "Don't you believe it and if you go spreading that around I will shoot you where you stand."
Ezra offered the other man a two-finger salute off the tip of his hat and he turned to exit with a hearty laugh.
"And I'll still make you ride your patrol after I do it, Standish" Chris called after him.
TBC