Still not entirely sure where this story is headed
Still no beta, so still 'raw'.
Still no Chris . . . Or is there?
When her assistant offered they go get lunch, she'd asked her to bring back some sandwiches. It was a busy day and she wasn't going to afford the luxury of lunch. More than that, a handful more books had turned up over night, and there were the beginnings of whispers around the town.
Though Mary wasn't affronted by the threat of embarrassment or confrontation, she also didn't wish to invite it upon herself.
No, she could continue to research Mrs Fletcher, run her newspaper, and lick her wounds from the comfort of her office.
Ten minutes after her assistant had left, she burst back through the door, "Mrs Travis! The judge just arrived on the stage!"
"What?" Mary rose from her desk and ran to the window. Oren had told her to wait for him, but that was a week ago. Sure enough her father in law was walking up the stairs in front of the hardware store.
Turning towards the crowd that was quickly gathering, Oren raised his hands for quiet. Quickly, Mary went outside just as Oren began to speak, "Good people of Four Corners. I have come to formally announce the immediate appointment of the new law, not only in this town but for the whole region."
"A new sheriff?" someone called out. "We don't need one when we got our gunfighters."
Oren smiled, "Well, no. Not a new sheriff, Mr Carson, but a new Regional Marshal."
A collective gasp took up the crowd. Who would've thought Four Corners and surrounds would ever be thought important enough to be assigned a federal marshal?
A tall figure in black moved in behind Oren and Mary's breath seized in her chest.
The man she'd loved was standing next to her father in law.
"Marshal Chris Larabee, duly sworn regional federal authority and officer of the court has agreed to take up this posting."
Marshal Chris Larabee?
Oren nodded to Chris, who stood unmoving, his face passive from beneath his trademark black hat. "I believe many of you know him and join me in welcoming Chris back to Four Corners," Oren paused, "back where he belongs." He then waved at the crowd, many of whom were pleased by the news, some nodding, smiling, dipping their hats, "Thank you for your attention. Chris? We got some things to discuss."
Chris started to move away with Oren, then his eyes swept over in the direction of the Clarion. Mary's hands burned from strangling the fence post, those green eyes of his piercing through her heart and soul, leaving her struggling for breath.
All too soon though he released her, his gaze turning back to Oren as they made their way down the street.
Why hadn't Oren told her about this?
"Mary?"
She pursed her lips and held out her hand.
Inez came into her side and took her hand, "Are you okay?"
"Of course." She forced a smile, "Why wouldn't I be? I've always said Chris Larabee was the best thing to ever happen to this town."
"I don't care about the town this moment! Only you!"
She squeezed her hand, "Billy will be happy."
"And you?"
"I will be glad to have him here again," Mary swallowed against the pain in her still racing heart, "and to know he's still alive."
Inez sniggered, "And not 'rotting of whiskey in some stinking brothel' eh?"
She squeezed her eyes to fight the tingling of tears, "Maybe I had been wrong about that."
"He look good, no?"
"He looked . . . well," she conceded, then again even filthy drunk Chris always managed to look good, "and a federal marshal? I never thought I'd live to see that stubborn man wearing a badge."
"Times change, and sometimes even men change. Yes?"
Mary let go of Inez' hand, "I need to find Billy."
"Will you not speak to the judge first?" Inez called after her.
"No," she tossed her answer over her shoulder. Oren kept this from her; why? "My Billy comes first."
"Mrs Travis,' Ezra tipped his hat.
She looked at him expectantly, "I am looking for my son, Ezra. I know he's hiding around here somewhere."
"He's not here," Ezra looked down then shuffled in closer, "Mary, he knows about Chris. It's a lot for a young boy to take in. Perhaps he needs a little space right now."
Mary had a mind to tell Ezra to mind his own business and hand over her son, but it wasn't right. Erza, Nathan and JD had done a lot for Billy in the past three years. Even if some of Ezra's instructions were not to a mother's taste. She still hadn't forgiven him for the 'sleight of hand' and how to 'spot a working-girl' lessons.
"What did- how did he take it?"
"He saw him and ran. But that pony of his is still in the livery." Ezra patted her on the arm and went back to tend bar. "Can I offer you a fiery beverage?"
"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to need one?" she asked to Ezra's departing back.
Vin caught her eye, "Afternoon, Mary. You're looking a picture."
She smiled, "And how does everything else look?"
"No sign of the woman or anyone paying you any unnecessary attention."
"Thank you, Vin."
"Well we're all back together now, I'm sure it won't take long before we get to the bottom of this."
Walking to him, she took the bottle of whiskey from Ezra's outstretched hand, "Please, Vin."
"You're too perceptive for the likes of me, ma'am."
Vin was her good friend, even if she rarely saw him these days, but that didn't mean she'd let him get away with hiding things, "Don't think you can distract me with flattery, Mr Tanner. Why have you become my personal bodyguard?"
"A threat has been made against your life."
Mary's eyes closed, not just for the words spoken but from whom the words came. Vin gave a small nod of support then floated back into the woodwork as he often did when playing guard.
Taking a fortifying breath, she turned to find Chris Larabee standing at the door to the saloon. Her traitorous father-in-law stood beside him.
"Oren," she said politely, her heart pounding in her throat. "Mr Larabee."
"Mary," Chris replied.
"Why-," she directed her question to Oren, "why does someone want me dead . . . this time?"
"It has to do with the novel," Oren walked to her side.
Mary flinched, "That god-forsaken book."
"Sit down, Mary," Oren insisted taking her arm and guiding her into a chair, "we need to talk."
"Yes," she bit out, her eyes unwilling to even look at Chris, "We do." She sat down and reached for a glass. "Ezra? My son, please."
"I tell you honestly, ma'am, he's not here."
"He's with Buck. Nathan and JD are with them," Chris told her, taking the seat next to her.
She downed a second glass, "That woman at the bookstore, is she the one after me? Why didn't she kill me when she had a chance?"
"Mary," Oren placed a hand on her arm, "We think her threat was intended to draw the seven here."
"Why?"
The corners of Oren's mouth turned down; a sure sign he was in doubt, or was about to deliver bad news. "Perhaps she's planning the next book."
"This threat," she asked but already knew the truth by his presence, "was made to whom?"
"Me."
Her eyes flicked to Chris, then downed another glass.
"The same woman found me in Mexico," he said flatly, "Left the warning at my hotel."
"Not an easy feat," Oren took a glass full from her bottle and knocked it back, "when only I and a select few knew of Chris' whereabouts."
Mary eyed Vin and Ezra, "A select few?"
"Don't look at me," Ezra held up his hand in indignation, "I've been here running a respectable establishment and keeping the disenfranchised from shooting up the town."
Vin simply shook his head.
"None of them knew."
Mary raised an eyebrow and asked without looking at him, "Not even Buck?"
"Not even Buck," Chris answered crisply.
"Mary, Chris has been working for me and the courts all this time," Oren explained, a subtle gentleness rising in his tone, "The secrecy allow him anonymity, to blend in, a stranger no-one would pick out as a lawman."
"A bonafide marshal?" Ezra asked from behind her.
"Yes," Oren continued, "You see, three years ago I had a proposition for him. I offered a generous contract and the authority of a marshal's badge to go after the longstanding outlaws in the west. Becoming a state, we needed to bring about change in the lawless regions but most men we sent ended up dead. We needed a man who could blend in and bring down the worst of the worst."
"Generous contract?" Ezra stepped in, "I don't seem to recall hearing about any of the rest of us being made this offer."
Oren didn't blink, "Chris was the only one of you to be sworn in as an officer of the court. That was offered, to which the rest of you all declined."
Ezra scoffed then walked away.
"A marshal though?" Vin asked quietly from the shadows.
"And now regional marshal. Still a struggle to get him to wear it." Oren chuckled, "You are wearing it, aren't you?"
"I blend in better without the bullseye over my heart," Chris argued but then pulled back his coat, revealing the shiny metal badge.
Seeing Chris wearing his commitment to Oren and the law was enormously pleasing, but Mary was not in the mood to be impressed or glad. She wanted to be angry. "So getting back to this book? This threat? The woman I saw would not be the type to wander around Mexico unnoticed."
"Which only adds to the mystery," Oren agreed.
"Before leaving," Chris told them, "I asked around. None but the hotel proprietor remembered seeing her."
"And what was this warning?" she asked without looking at him.
Chris leant in closer to her and before she could react, he pulled a leaf of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her.
Unfolding it, Mary took a look then tossed it on the table, "Hardly worth taking serious-"
"Oh, we're taking it serious," Chris put in firmly.
"The woman's clearly not right in the head," she downed another glass of whiskey then finally addressed him face on, "She cannot tell fanciful fiction from real life."
Chris held her glare without word.
"In my experience, Mary," Oren's voice broke in between them, "It's those not right in the head can be the most dangerous."
Mary kept her stare hard, showing him she wasn't afraid, "That's why you're here?"
"Not exactly-"
"I already offered him this post before the warning was sent," Oren cut in. "Mexico was his last job and because of him, twenty-seven of the worst criminals in the west were brought to justice-"
"Oren," Chris stopped him, "let's get back on track."
"Right," the old man agreed. "Well, after the warning was left, Chris wired me and we set for Four Corners with all speed."
Mary took another drink, "But is that not what this woman wants?"
Chris reached over and slid the bottle a little away from her.
She snatched it back.
"Mary, maybe you ought to slow down-"
She slammed the bottle down on the table. "You're the last person to be giving me advice."
Chris sat back a little, "Guess I deserved that."
"Damn straight," she glared at him.
"And to think I thought time'd mellow you."
"Sorry to disappoint."
To her great chagrin he smiled, "I ain't disappointed."
Mary broke away and took one last glass, "This woman; Miss June, Dorothy Fletcher." She implored her father in law, "How do we find a woman who is nobody?"
"You're the journalist," Chris challenged, removing bottle entirely by handing it over to Ezra, "and will need that brain of yours. You do your digging, find out who this Dorothy Fletcher is and anyone else involved."
When he stood, Mary threw more indignance his way, "And just what will you be doing while I'm digging?"
Chris was completely unaffected by her hostility and calmly left the table, "We'll make sure this town's turned inside out. No-one, man woman or child will go unchecked."
When he walked out the saloon, Vin and Ezra followed him.
"Mary?" Oren rested his hand on her arm. "What have I missed here? I thought you'd be pleased to have Chris back protecting the town?"
Mary got to her feet, her head a more than little shaky after downing so much whiskey. "I am pleased," she told him with all honesty. "I always wanted him to feel like he belonged here."
"But?" Oren pressed gently.
But she loved him? But he left for three years without even saying goodbye?
But he was somehow oblivious to having broken her heart?
Mary patted Oren's shoulder, "No buts. I am very happy to finally have Chris Larabee home again."
"So, not that we're not thrilled to bits to see ya, but . . .?"
"Something interesting happened to me just the other week." he slowly walked in closer to the table, "some woman came up to me, thrusting this," he tossed the book on the table, "in my face. Asked me to sign the damned thing. Next thing the woman skipped town but left a warning," he pulled a piece of paper from his jacket, and handed it to Vin.
Vin's eyes widened then he passed it to Buck, who passed it on and so on.
"Was the woman young well dressed, pretty, brown hair and eyes? Spoke with a city voice?"
Chris raised his brow, "And went by the name Miss June."
"Same woman came by here last week, put the wind up Mary pretty good."
Vin took back the illustration, "A warning then."
"From the crazed fan of some dime-shelf romance?" asked Ezra.
"Crazed would be the first clue," Nathan shook his head, "Crazy and obsessive, a bad mix. There's no telling what this could bring."
"We found it was Billy who told the story."
"I knew it was Billy," Chris told them.
They were silent for a moment.
"How? We just found out ourselves."
Chris glared down at the object on the table, "Read the damn book, didn't I? For every lie and exaggeration, there were some truths."
"Something only you and Billy would know?"
A single, marginal nod was his only answer.
"Well, Billy told us everything he can remember already and we still ain't got anything to really go on?"
"No?" Chris stepped away from the table and looked to his friends, "If this woman is still around, she could be dangerous."
His friends waited, waited for him to tell 'em what to do. They still looked to him for leadership. "Alright, this is what we'll do-"
Chris had been angry and disappointed reading the kid's letter but he couldn't tide the swell in his heart upon seeing him. Ezra walked the now eleven year old Billy Travis along the street towards the gathering of men.
Like a proud man on trial, Billy walked tall, head high and eyes forward. Looking at him, Chris couldn't have been prouder.
However, he still needed to tan the boy's hide.
Ezra brought him to stand a few paces in front of Chris, "Billy Travis, Mr Larabee. I believe you two know each other." Ezra backed away and went to sit out of the sun with the others.
Billy stood silent and waiting, the only tell of his nervousness was a twitch in his fingers held at his sides. He was a brave boy.
"Billy," Chris began, "You lied to me."
He flinched then nodded.
"I got your letter," he held up Billy's letter. "No doubt at your mama's instruction."
Billy swallowed, "After I told her the truth, she said it was only right to tell you too."
Chris held back the urge to sigh, instead nailling the boy with his glare, "I don't like being lied too."
"I-I know."
"You lied to your mama too."
Billy nodded in sad admittance.
"Why?" he demanded harshly.
Chris could see his little fists clenching in an effort to keep himself together and keep the tears welled in his young eyes from spilling.
"I wrote it-"
"No," he ground out hard, "You speak like a man; don't hide behind a pen."
Billy raised his chin, and met Chris' eyes, "I wanted so bad to talk to you, but I didn't want to make mama upset."
Chris sighed and shook his head in dramatic fashion, "Don't think you will be lying to me again, will you?"
"No, sir," Billy nodded, the first tear falling.
"Or your mama."
Second tear spilled.
"Say it."
He breathed in shakily, "I won't ever lie to you or mama again."
"Got something else you wanna say?"
"I'm s-sorry, Chris."
Chris held him in his glare for another good few seconds. "Alright then. Now, get over here, boy."
Like a coil suddenly released, Billy flung himself into Chris, squeezing hard. Billy had grown so much since the last time he'd seen him; he was tall enough to bury his face into Chris' belly.
He put an arm around his shoulders, and let him have a minute to cry himself out.
"I did something real bad and now mama's in danger."
"Shhh," he held the boy's head into him, "don't worry, we'll fix it, alright?"
"I missed you so much, Chris."
"I know." He palmed the kid's face, holding him firmly against him. He did love that boy something fierce. "Alright, Billy. That's enough. Come on, wipe your face and stand up straight."
Billy reluctantly did as he was told, eyes red but he stood tall.
Chris broke into a smile, "Let me look at you." He no longer needed to kneel down to look into his face, "You're going be a tall man."
Billy risked a small laugh, "Like you."
"Look like your mama."
Outrage filled his young tanned face, "I don't. Mama's a girl."
Chris soundlessly chuckled, "There are worse things."
"Should I tell her," he hesitated, "that you're here?"
He put his fingers through Billy's golden hair, "I've already seen her. You and I, we got work to do. Right?"
Billy nodded.
"We fix our mistakes, don't we?"
Again the boy nodded, but his smile returned, "I'm so glad you're here."
The kid had such utter faith in Chris it was humbling, "Don't you worry, we'll make sure your mama's safe." He took Billy's shoulder and guided him towards the others, "and we start with you remembering more than you've said. You remember how I taught you to notice details?"
"I did, and I remembered a lot," Billy said defensively.
"We're gonna need more. Sit."
Billy took the empty chair beside Ezra and Chris took the other. Buck poured him a whiskey and then looked pointedly at Billy.
"Sarsaparilla," Chris growled.
"I'll get it," JD jumped up.
"I don't like drinking whiskey, Chris," Billy told him honestly, "it tastes bad."
With his brow raised, Chris looked directly at Ezra.
"Now, it's not as it sounds Mr Larabee. The boy wanted to try it and only had a sip, no more than a few drops. I thought it might discourage any further experimentation if he knew how bad it tasted to children."
Vin shook his head, "God help if you ever have any kids, Ezra."
"Billy and I have been doing alright these past three years, Mr Tanner," Ezra pouted.
"Billy," Chris pulled out a paper and lead, handing them to Josiah, and drawing the attention back to where it belonged, "we're needing you to remember."
"Here you are, Pard," JD placed a cold glass of sarsaparilla in front of Billy.
Billy took a long draught, then sat up straight, "I did what you do. I focused on one thing and tried to remember, anything more to help-"
"Take it easy," he held up a hand, "Sometimes when you want it too bad it makes rememberin' harder. So, sit back, close your eyes." Once Billy complied, he continued, "concentrate on breathing." He watched until he was satisfied. "This woman, how did she approach you?"
"I was heading home on Windbag after trapping rabbits. She called out my name on the road."
"Hold up. What was she riding?"
"A small grey. I thought it was weird because she was sidesaddle. Ladies don't ride sidesaddle around here."
"It was a cold day?"
"Yeah, mama didn't want me to go in case I got a fever. She made me wear an oilskin and gloves."
"Was the lady cold?"
"Ah, no. At least she didn't wear a shawl. Just a pretty dress like they do in the city. All frilly and puffy, but pretty."
Vin nodded to him and Josiah continued to write notes.
"She knew your name?"
"Yes, she called out to me . . ."
.
"Billy Travis, that has to be you!"
Billy pulled up Windbag and regarded the finely dressed lady with surprise. He automatically reached up to tap his hat, "Afternoon, Ma'am. I'm sorry, do I know you?"
The lady with hair the colour of a bay horse and naturally curly hair laughed loudly, "Oh, heavens no my boy. But I know you!"
.
"Hang on," JD interrupted, "How do you know if a lady's hair is naturally curled?"
"Quiet," Chris ordered, "Continue, Billy."
.
"But I know you!"
Billy frowned, "Are you a friend of my mama?"
"Not yet." The lady moved her fifteen hand grey with a splayed left front hock closer to him. It was the first time Billy had seen a woman riding sidesaddle, "I am a business woman of sorts. Like your mother is and I have a business deal to offer you."
"Ma'am," Billy said, feeling uneasy by the closeness of the woman, "I think I should return home. It's getting late."
The lady pulled out a five dollar note, "Will you at least hear my offer? If you would be so kind, this is yours."
Billy eyed the five dollars. So far he'd only saved up forty dollars and that had taken him two years of doing chores around the town. The addition of five would be an easy bonus. "Alright, ma'am. But please don't think me an easy con. My friend Ezra taught me all about conning."
"Yes," she seemed elated by his admission, "yes, I'm sure he, that is Mr Standish I presume, taught you all about trickery. But I assure you, Billy Travis, trickery is not my forte.
"You see Billy," the lady continued, "I am a collector of sorts. I collect stories and I think you have some of the best stories in the west hidden in that cute little noggin of yours."
"I know no stories, ma'am."
"You're thinking you don't because you think I mean fictional, but no. I want the stories of your friends. Mr Standish is one. Mr John Dunne is another. And the others too, Sanchez, Wilmington, Tanner, Jackson and of course your dear friend, Mr Larabee. He is the one I am most interested in. Him and your mother."
"Why do you want to know about them?" Billy asked defensively.
"Easy child, just the stories I'm interested. I promise I mean them no harm. In fact, they're the most important characters to me right now."
"Pardon me, ma'am, I think I should go home now," Billy reached up to his hat to bid her good day-
"I will give you three hundred dollars."
"Three hundred dollars?" he gasped, his fingers frozen an inch from the brim of his hat. He could only imagine it! Three hundred dollars! Suddenly his dream didn't seem so far away.
"That's right. Three hundred for every little story you can remember about all your friends, Mr Larabee and Mrs Travis in particular."
.
"Why did you need the money so bad, Billy?"
Billy hesitated, "I want to lease a ranch."
Chris tilted his head, "Billy?"
"I want to lease a ranch so I wouldn't have to be sent away. I could stay here and take care of mama."
"Sent away where?" Nathan asked.
"School," Chris sighed, looking at the others. "Billy told me Mary's been saving for years now to send him to San Francisco and one of the schools there."
"If I've my own ranch and work it, I never need go away to school."
"What little boy doesn't dream of the finest education?" Ezra asked. "And in San Francisco no less?"
"But who'd look after mama and what if I forget everything. All Chris taught me, Nathan, JD and Ezra teaching me about money? I don't want go!"
Chris gave him a patient look, "That's between you and your mama."
"Can't you speak to her, ask her not to send me away?"
"Can't Billy," Chris told him firmly. "I ain't your pa."
Pain filled the boy's face. "An' you don't wanna be!"
Chris shook his head slowly, "Wanting's got nothing to do with it. Told you before, a man must do what's right regardless what he wants."
From the side JD scoffed loudly.
"Why's being here so wrong? Maybe you don't love mama, not like she does, but you still could've stayed!" Billy thrust his chair out and jumped up, storming away as quick as his legs carried him.
Six sets of eyes held their breath, watching him, but he didn't get up to follow Billy, "Leave him a while," he told them. "We'll need him to remember more, but for the moment it can wait a few hours."
"Billy's right; what man wouldn't give both his legs to have Mary look at him the way she looked at you. But what did you care?"
"JD," Buck growled, "Don't start all that up again."
"None of you said anything because he's the great Chris Larabee," JD accused. "Well, no more!"
"JD," Buck called after him but JD would not turn back.
"Damn kid," Buck started to rise go after him.
Chris threw the whiskey down his throat then stood, placing a hand on Buck's shoulder, "No, JD's right," he admitted to them quietly. "I knew," his chest constricted, "but back then I was no good."
"And now?" Vin asked from under the brim of his hat.
"Now I'm looking to change things," Chris pulled back his coat.
"Ah hell, Chris," Buck threw himself down on a chair, "You didn't!"
"Judge Travis just announced it to the whole town," Vin told them. "Chris' the new regional law."
"Not new so much," Chris shrugged, "More like a cozy job to keep me local. He's gonna ask y'all." When they all didn't look impressed, he smiled, "It pays more. But I won't ask, so long as you're there to back me up."
"How much more?" Josiah quietly asked from his corner off to the side.
"Two dollars a day, room and board."
"You sound like the Judge."
"Damn Chris," Buck groused, "A lousy two dollars?"
Ezra joined in, "Compared to the wage of a regional marshal, I have to agree. Two dollars hardly seems worth the constant underlying threat of violence."
"Speaking of violence," Vin chimed in, "What's plan? Can't just sit around, waiting for something bad to happen."
"Why?" Josiah asked, "What's happening now?"
Chris told them all the details as he knew them.
"So let's see if I understand you," predictably Ezra was the first to speak up, "First some deranged kook wrote a dime shelf romance novel, then finds you in Mexico to threaten your lady-love, knowing you'd come running back here to her rescue."
Chris held a narrow stare at Ezra, but Ezra was not interested in shutting up, "Anyone else have a problem with this?"
"It's a setup, Ezra," Vin shook his head, "plain as day. Don't mean we don't do nothing."
"So," Buck brought the attention back to him, "What's the plan, stud?"
