PART 7

Long shadows cast by the afternoon sun moved across the quiet town. Chris sat outside the saloon; his feet propped up on a railing, his eyes on the street. Where are you, Standish? His patience was stretched tight.

"We should go after him." Chris had not heard the tracker come out of the saloon and it surprised him to hear his inner thoughts spoken. He shifted his gaze to Vin and nodded. Larabee eased the chair onto four legs and stood, stretching his stiff back. They needed to find their black sheep and bring him home.

"Rider comin' in." Vin tilted his chin, indicating a lone horseman coming toward them. The horse and rider ambled unhurriedly by the church as they came astride the jail the rider pulled his horse to a stop and inspected the small wooden and rock jailhouse.

"Hey, Pa!" Bryce yelled out, his arms hanging out between the bars of the jailhouse window. "I told these lame lawmen that you'd be coming to get me out! They didn't believe me."

"They treatin' you alright, boy?" Rosen smiled at his son, at least they hadn't sent him to Tucson or Santa Fe. James knew his son was wanted in both those places. If Bryce continued his lawless escapades the boy would run out of places to live.

"The food ain't bad," Bryce yelled out. "But I've slept on better rocks."

James tapped his horse into motion and went across the street. He reined his horse to a stop in front of Vin and Chris. One glance told him these were men to be respected and feared. Farley had described a darkly-dressed gunslinger who appeared to be the leader of the peacekeepers. This man looked like someone who should be running with him, not protecting some two-bit town on the edge of nowhere.

"I reckon' you know who I am and why I'm here," Rosen calmly said.

"Reckon I do," Chris replied. "Your son pretty much gave us his life story."

James chuckled. "Yeah, he is a bit of a bragger." His face turned serious, the weathered lines deepening. "What will it take to git my boy released?" He hoped that maybe these men didn't want any trouble and would just hand over his son with a warning never to return.

"Your son is under arrest for the cold-blooded murder of Jonathan Berman. He ain't goin' nowhere. What happens to him is up to the judge," Chris explained. They didn't have a wanted poster on James Rosen and he wasn't part of the earlier robbery, unlike his son, this man was smart and somehow stayed out of reach of the law.

Rosen pursed his lips and casually spit in the street. This surely complicated matters. He didn't know Bryce had killed someone, and worse, he had left witnesses. James rested an arm across his saddle horn. He knew his son's days were numbered, and that he would probably die young, but James Rosen would delay that day for as long as possible. He was his father after all and children were supposed to outlive their folks.

"Don't suppose there's any way I could change your mind?" Rosen asked, flashing a crooked smile. His comment was met with silence.

"Didn't think so," Rosen licked his lips and scratched his beard. "Well, I might have somethin' that'll alter your thinkin'." Rosen reached into his saddlebag and froze when he heard the slow click of a cocking gun as Buck stepped out from just inside the saloon. "No fancy moves now, Gramps. Looks to me like the acorn don't fall far from the tree."

Rosen met Buck's glare and slowly pulled out a crumpled red jacket, dropping it on the ground.

Vin stepped around Buck and picked up the material. His finger poking out through a bullet hole.

"You sonofabitch…" Buck growled as he lunged at the old cowboy, Rosen's horse lurching back slightly at the sudden aggressive movement.

Chris intercepted Buck's charge and shoved him back. "Wait, Buck, let's hear him out."

"Why don't we just throw his sorry-ass in jail with his son," Buck growled.

Rosen smiled threateningly. "You killed most of my men, but I still have a few loyal ones left, and if I don't return in two hours my men have orders to bury your man in the desert where you'll never find him."

This had the desired effect, no closure. James had learned this was something many people feared, not knowing if someone was alive or dead, and never really knowing what happened to them. It could eat a man up for the rest of their life.

"How do I know he's still alive?" Chris asked, glancing at the red jacket in Vin's hands.

"You don't," Rosen sneered, all pretense of good humor erased from his face. "It's simple. A trade: my son for your man. Bring Bryce to the base of the large plateau just south of here an hour after sunrise. If you don't show…well, I already explained what will happen."

Rosen reined his horse and turned back up the street. "Anyone follows is a dead man." James Rosen called back as he casually rode out of town. "See ya soon, son," he yelled towards the jailhouse. Bryce clasped his hands together outside the bars, grinning at the three lawmen across the road.

"Damn it!" Buck slammed his fist against the porch post. "This never woulda happened if'n we hadn't chased Ez away." Buck took a step back and faced his friends. "If I hadn't chased him away."

"We're all responsible," Chris sadly admitted.

Vin nodded once in agreement and carefully folded the ruined jacket and handed it to Chris. "I'm gonna have a look around."

"Watch your back, pard." Chris knew the tracker wouldn't risk Ezra's life. "It'd help if we knew how many men Rosen has left."

Vin jogged over to the livery.

Buck sighed audibly. "I'm goin' up to check on JD."

"Buck," Chris called out. "It ain't your fault."

"Try tellin' Ez that." Buck's shoulders slumped, and he turned and walked slowly toward the clinic stairs.

M7M7M7

"Buck?" A soft voice broke the quiet of the clinic. Buck sat up in the chair and reached over to grab a glass of water. JD blinked slowly, and locked eyes with the tall gunslinger.

"Easy, JD," Buck soothed, gently helping the young man up so he could take a sip of water. He returned the half-empty glass to the table as JD settled back and tried to get comfortable.

"What happened?" JD choked out. His chest felt like a boulder was resting on it and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open.

"You were shot, JD."

JD's brows furrowed as he tried to recall what had occurred. He remembered the gunfight and Ezra running towards the newspaper office.

"Is everyone alright?" JD asked. "I was with Ez…"

"Yeah, everyone's fine," Buck's eyes fell to a small spot of dirt on his pants. "Ez caught one a them outlaws in the Clarion. He saved Mary."

JD smiled and closed his eyes. "I was wonderin' why he took off. Figured he had a good reason."

Buck gazed out the window. At least you had faith in him, he thought as his eyes began to mist with tears.

"Where is he?" An overwhelming fatigue drained JD's strength and he struggled to keep Buck's face in focus. The bullet wound throbbed without mercy and it was so hard to breathe. "Tell 'im…I wanna see him, Buck."

"Ah… he's out on patrol," Buck lied. He slumped back into his chair and watched as the young easterner began to lose his hold on consciousness. "You rest, kid, and I promise, Ez will be up to see you when he gets back from rounds." Buck reached over and pulled the quilt to JD's chin, hoping he was able to keep his promise.

M7M7M7M7M7

Vin returned to town, the sun's waning glow losing its battle with the falling night. Chris's lean form rested outside the jail nearly invisible in the shadows except for the tip of the cheroot he held in his teeth. The tracker rode towards him and nodded to Josiah and Buck as they descended the clinic stairs. The four men convened outside the jail with a silent, shared conviction.

"Found 'em." Vin informed his three friends, dismounting and flipping the reins over the railing. They assumed Vin would succeed in tracking Rosen and they listened in earnest to his soft words. "They're just south of here camped atop Crow Mesa. Rosen has three or four men. I couldn't get close they can see everything from there. I had to just look for tracks to figure out how many."

Chris leaned on the adjoining post and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Let's go," Buck said, shifting with nervous energy. "Let's get him back."

"Ain't that easy, Bucklin," Vin answered whiled he stroked Peso's snout. "There's going to be a full moon tonight. They'll see anyone coming and there's no cover on the mesa. We'd risk Ezra getting shot in the crossfire. Hell, if they see us comin' in on 'em they might just shoot 'im outright."

"Damn," Chris hissed. He didn't think it would be easy, James Rosen didn't live so long by being stupid.

"We can't let them kill Ezra," Buck shifted his weight from one foot than the other, he needed to do something.

"We're not going to." Chris would never allow one of his men to die for the piece of scum that resided in the jail. "We gotta do this right, Buck. We're going to follow Rosen's instructions."

"Bryce Rosen is wanted for the murder of Mr. Berman. His widow and the citizens of this town want to see him hang," Josiah reminded. "Some of these people won't think Ezra's worth the trade. And I don't think the judge will look kindly on us letting a murderer go."

"Well, the judge ain't due here for at least a day or two," Chris quipped. "And the hell with those people. We'll get Ezra back first, then we'll deal with Rosen even if we have to track him all the way to Mexico."

"Si, Si," Vin joked.

Josiah smiled. "My sentiments exactly, brother." If Chris or any of the others had decided against releasing the young outlaw, he would have taken matters into his own hands.

"Everyone be ready to ride before first light."

Chris grasped Vin's shoulder. "Thirsty?" Vin nodded and the group began moving toward the saloon.

"I'll take this watch, boys." Buck grasped the door handle of the jail. "But save me a bottle. I'm gonna need it."

TBC