Nathan knew Josiah was offering more than assistance with Chris Larabee. As grateful as he was for those strong hands and all that went with it, he shook his head. "Thanks, Josiah, but I'm okay. He pressed the edges of the wound, hardening himself as the first weak cry escaped from the semiconscious gunslinger.
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Luis Martinez smiled at the group of workers who listened to what he wanted them to do. He knew his padre had been a hard man and had them working from dawn to dusk, but he'd shortened the hours and knew he'd still get the same yield because they were well rested.
Luis had seen his madre and Juanita walking toward the north field and wanted to join them, but for now he had to see to these people. He quickly told them what he wanted them to do today and turned to find Ezra Standish watching him as he dismissed the workers.
"You are a natural leader, Senor Martinez," Standish said.
"Gracious," Luis said and took a deep breath. "How are your friends this morning?"
"Nothing has changed, but I have confidence in Nathan's healing abilities," the gambler answered.
"I watched him…you put your faith in a good man," Martinez told him. "How is the arm?"
"I believe Nathan is correct in his diagnosis and I shall have the same dexterity as I always had when it comes to dealing and shuffling a deck of cards," Standish said and looked out over the fields.
Luis did not know the man very well and his first impression had been that Ezra Standish was a rich bore, but he'd quickly changed that assessment. The man had proven that these men were his friends and he would do anything he could to help them. "A man can usually count his true friends on one hand, but I believe you are the exception. I have watched you and your compadres and believe you are more than friends. Mi madre has always said the number seven is special and I believe it is in your number that you will find the strength to help them heal."
"Josiah is a spiritual man and he has spoken of the divinity of the number seven on several occasions. Religion is something I knew very little about until I met Josiah Sanchez and listened to him speak."
"Is Josiah a priest?"
"He was." His voice tinged with sadness, Ezra continued. "He has delivered several rather touching sermons that would undoubtedly impress anyone who believes himself a religious zealot," Standish said and realized he'd said more than was necessary as Martinez looked toward the north.
"I have yet to speak with Padre Santiago, but if he is not available would Josiah marry Juanita and me?"
"The lovely Senorita Perez will make a beautiful bride. Would you like me to speak with Josiah for you?"
"Let me speak with Padre Santiago first."
"Certainly…"
"Senor Martinez, there is a problem in the south field. Pedro said for you to come right away," Pero called frantically.
"Excuse me, Senor Standish."
"Of course," the gambler said and watched the man hurry away before walking back into the house.
He knew Buck was with JD and that Nathan and Josiah were checking Chris' wounds which left him to keep an eye on Vin. He hurried up the stairs and entered Tanner's room to find the Texan sleeping, his untouched tray on the table between the two beds. Frowning, Ezra eyed the platter of sliced fruit, sweet sticky buns and juice. He wondered if Vin even realized the food was there. Unless their tracker began to eat more, he wouldn't have the strength to combat his injuries. He laid a gentle hand on the slumbering man's shoulder.
"Vin?" He paused, watching for signs of life to emerge. The tanned face twitched and a scowl formed. "Vin, you need to wake up now and eat."
Vin had been lost in the netherworld between deep sleep and wakefulness. His dreams ran the gamut of emotional turmoil that ended with the words that cut him to the core. Chris…a quitter…fought hard…life depended on…dead. The last word seared through his tortured brain, creating a mantra from hell. He was forced to admit to himself that he'd lost the first man he'd ever considered a brother.
"Come on, Vin, Evita sent up some fresh fruit and sweet rolls. I know Inez and Mrs. Wells make wonderful sweets, but I can confirm that these are just as delicious to the palette," Standish tried and watched as the tracker's eyes moved beneath the closed lids. "Vin, I know you are awake and you must be ravished by now." He saw a single blue slit appear and observe him, then disappear. "I saw that!" He accused, shaking Vin's shoulder again. "I'll help you sit up."
"Ain't hungry," Tanner said and turned away before the man could see the pain of loss in his eyes.
"Vin…"
"Go 'way, Ez," the Texan snapped and found it difficult to draw air into his lungs as he thought about going back to Tascosa to clear his name without Chris Larabee at his side. "Sho…udda...took...care o'it...b'fore…" he mumbled aloud.
"Taken care of what, Vin?" Standish asked worriedly. There was something wrong here, something that had not been a part of Tanner's demeanor, but the savvy conman couldn't place exactly what was different. His handsome face creased in annoyance at the observation skills he usually used with ease.
"Nothin', look, Ez, I'm ti…tired," Tanner said and hoped the gambler would leave him to his thoughts and dreams, no matter how morbid they might be. "Jest leave me be..."
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Arena De Muerte
Early Afternoon
Fernando Gores watched as two horses approached the arena and couldn't help, but smile as he recognized the riders and their captives. He felt Miguel Delgado beside him as Pablo Gonzales and Alonzo Gutierrez dismounted and roughly pulled the women off the animals.
"Did you have any trouble?" Gores asked, eyeing the very ripe Juanita Perez hungrily.
"No, it was just like you said, Fernando. These two came walking along the path as if they owned it. Me and Alonzo waited until they were out of sight of the hacienda and took them without a fight," Gonzales answered.
"Did you leave any tracks for them to follow?" Delgado asked.
"We took the back trail and then stayed in the creek following it south for fifteen minutes before doubling back and heading north. It will confuse them for a while until you are ready for Luis to find them," Gonzales answered and smiled at the anger blazing in the women's eyes.
"You know if we hurt either of them, Luis will kill us," Delgado said, beginning to doubt the wisdom of this move.
"Not if we do not give him the chance," Gores said and reached out to cup Juanita's chin with his right hand. "We send him a message to come alone and make him watch while we enjoy showing his women what a real man can do."
"I want a piece of that one too," Gutierrez said with a leering grin as he eyed her ripe breasts.
"There'll be time for everyone to enjoy them once Luis arrives…for now I am hungry and Evita has always been a great cook," Gores said.
"Are you going to untie them?" Delgado asked.
"Just their hands…bring me some rope," Gores ordered and took the hemp Gonzales offered. "Now, Ladies, I'm going to tie Evita's left ankle to Juanita's right ankle with maybe a foot of rope in between. If either of you tries anything the other one will be taken into the arena itself and each man will be given half an hour to enjoy themselves with her body. Nod your head if you understand."
Evita glanced at Juanita and nodded her head at the same time as the younger woman. By now someone at the hacienda would have noticed they hadn't returned and hopefully the twists and turns would not be too hard for her son to find. There was no doubt that these men would hurt her and Juanita, but for now they needed to bide their time and watch for an opening to escape. Perhaps they would all get drunk, but she didn't think they would be so lucky as Fernando Gores tied the rope between her and Juanita's legs. Then he reached for the ropes around her wrists and quickly released her as Delgado did the same with the younger woman.
"All right, Ladies, get started and make sure it tastes good or I'll have to sample your bodies instead," Gores warned and smiled as he shoved them toward the open fire.
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Four Corners
Early Afternoon
Mary Travis was tired of men like Conklin who didn't care about anyone, but themselves and she silently cursed when she spotted him heading toward her. She desperately wanted to avoid a confrontation, but he'd already seen her.
"Mrs. Travis, is it true the judge will be on the stage?"
"As a matter of fact he is," the newspaperwoman answered.
"It's about time…perhaps he will see the mistake he made in hiring those gunslingers to protect this town. They have been gone far too long and there is no point in throwing good money after bad," Conklin spat.
"Is that really what you think, Mr. Conklin? Perhaps it's time you opened your eyes and saw what those men have done for Four Corners. Have you noticed there is no need for the children to be afraid of playing outside or for people to lock their doors at night? Have there been any bank robberies or shootings since those men began patrolling the area?"
"That is not the point, Mrs. Travis…"
"Isn't it? Orin hired Chris and the others to make this town a place we could be proud of. A place people would be proud to call home and I know I've seen new people moving here and more coming each day. I told Chris it was progress and that was something we never had when the streets ran red with the blood of anyone who got in the way of the 'bad element'…"
"You yourself called Chris Larabee the bad element, Mrs. Travis…or do you deny that?"
"No, but I was wrong and I thank God for showing me that not all 'bad elements' are on the wrong side of the law. Now I know you have nothing better to do than bad mouth other people, but I have a stage to meet so excuse me," Mary said, lifting her shirts and stepping around the man. She passed Potter's store and smiled at her friend when she passed.
"Well said, Mary. That man should learn to keep his mouth shut," Gloria explained.
"I know, but he'll never learn…even if Chris or Buck or any of those men were to save his life he'd find a way to blame whatever happened on them. He's a fool and always will be."
"Has there been any news from Josiah?" Gloria asked.
"Nothing new, but if they have to travel to send a telegram we may not hear anything for a few days," Mary answered.
"Please let me know as soon as you hear anything."
"I will," Mary said and hurried toward her home to await Orin Travis' arrival.
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De Rivera Hacienda
Late Afternoon
JD opened his eyes, forcing himself to keep them open as he tried to make sense of where he was and what had happened to make his head feel like it was going to explode. It was warmer than he thought possible as he slowly looked around the unfamiliar room. The walls seemed wrong; the furniture strange, while colorful tapestries hung from decorative hooks. He frowned, setting off the fireworks in his skull as he tried to focus on something just out of his grasp.
"Wh…where…" he whispered, and fought the nausea that churned through his gut and felt a hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared at the man who now stood over him, and tried to make sense of his surroundings.
"Welcome back, Son," Jackson said and gripped the younger man's shoulders when he tried to sit up. "Be still, JD, you're not goin' anywhere for a spell."
"What…what happened?" Dunne asked, frowning at how strange his voice sounded.
"JD!" Wilmington hollered without realizing how loud the single word was for the concussed younger man.
JD moaned, cringing as he closed his eyes and desperately sought relief from the pain running rampant through his skull. "Tryin'…to k…kill me, Buck…"
Buck noticed the obvious pain and sank down on the chair, his eyes filled with sorrow as he watched the young man who'd come to mean so much to him. "Jesus, Kid, I'm sorry," he whispered.
Dunne reached up to touch the bandage covering his head, but his hands were caught and lowered back to the bed.
"Don't go touchin' that, JD," Jackson warned.
"Hap…happened?" Dunne repeated
"What do you remember, JD?" the healer asked, keeping his voice low in regard to the young man's injury. He watched JD's face and knew the young man was trying to remember what had happened, and knew it was something they should not push.
"I don't…I can't remember."
"That's okay, Son, it'll come to you, but right now you need to rest," Jackson said and filled a glass with the sweet juice Evita had mixed and handed it to Wilmington.
"Here, Kid, got something for you to drink."
JD sipped the juice and sighed tiredly, closing his eyes as he turned away from the offering. He fought to make sense of the images that flashed through his mind, but nothing seemed real. Last thing he remembered was riding with Chris, but the harder he tried to grasp those memories the more his head hurt and his stomach churned nauseously.
"Come on, Kid, don't tell me it's not sweet enough," Wilmington tried to coax the younger man to drink some more.
Dunne closed his eyes as the images formed and dissolved so quickly they made him dizzy. He slumped back against the pillows as darkness reached out for him once more and he surrendered to it before getting the answer he wanted.
"Nathan, I think it's time we told Chris that JD's ok," Wilmington said.
"I know," Jackson said tiredly.
"When are you planning on puttin Chris back in with Vin?"
"Not for another day or two. I want ta make sure he's got that fever beat," Jackson said and turned away as a wave of guilt washed over him. Every time he looked at Vin, JD, and Chris he was reminded of De Rivera's cruelty and yet, here he stood, untouched by the man's heavy hand while his friends fought for their lives.
"Nate…"
"I'm okay, Buck," Jackson said and walked out of the room.
"No, Nathan, I don't think you are," Wilmington said and sighed as he sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. Chris, JD, and Vin might be the one's physically injured, but there was no doubt in his mind that Nathan Jackson 'bled' right alongside them. Somehow they needed to find a way to bring all four men back into the fold and heal the damage done by Don Garcia De Rivera.
TBC
