A/N: I've been having problems uploading new chapters, they've been pulling vanishing acts. So here's chapter four a little early in thanks for all your patience as I try to upload everything again.
Magnificent Young Riders
Chapter 4: Expert Riders
Getting Vin home was not as difficult as J.D. had expected. After the initial help pulling him up the other boy just tuned him out; shrugging off any additional offers to help. It was like he was so focused on not showing his pain that he just shut down. The ride back was quiet and tense. J.D. was fit to burst with all the questions he wanted to ask, but one look at Vin kept him quiet.
Getting him home was not the problem but facing the older boys was another matter. Vin clammed up, not saying more about his attackers than that they caught him unaware and it wouldn't happen again. Which left the younger boy holding the bag. Made to explain exactly what he saw or heard until the whole thing felt like a dream.
Between Nathan and Nettie, Vin and Ezra were scolded and doctored up. Mostly bruises except for a slight concussion for Ezra and cracked ribs for Vin; so they were put on light duties much to Ezra's delight and no rides much to Vin's dismay.
Josiah was true to his word, no one was allowed back into town. It had been weeks. They were all going a little stir crazy. They were stuck at the station between tense rides, with the renegades growing bolder. Word was that the Army was on its way to crush any Indian rebellions. Around the station, tempers were starting to rise as they lived on top of one another. J.D. left the bunkhouse in a huff when Ezra and Nate started fighting with Josiah about chore assignments.
He aimed at the bottles on the fence, trying to alleviate some of his frustrations. He watched as each shattered under his skillful use of the gun. Manipulating the gun he began to twirl and fan the hammer. He was dang good with a gun. If only Chris would agree to shoot against him so he could prove to the other boys how good he was. He startled violently when he heard a voice behind him.
"Who the hell even sold you a gun. Don't do that. It can come loose and then it could come out." Buck waved his hands in exasperation, "Just put that damn thing away."
He fumbled to holster his gun. Dang Buck always made him feel so stupid. He knew what he was doing, probably even better than the older boy.
"Buck, don't do that!"
"What?" Buck smirked, "Startle the dangerous gunslinger?"
"I'm just as good as Chris," J.D. puffed out his chest before crossing his arms across it.
"Sure kid."
"I am! I'm dang faster than you."
"It ain't how quick you draw. It's how deadly you shoot." Buck spoke more harshly than he intended. He watched the younger boy wilt into himself. He wanted to protect the kid but he didn't want to break his spirit.
"Rider coming in. You want it?" Buck offered as a peace offering. The kid needed to know he trusted him and his abilities.
"Really!? Thanks, Buck!" The kid started running to switch off with Vin, eager for the ride. Buck whistled satisfied the kid was happy and he could still meet sweet Millie tonight for a moonlight stroll.
Buck watched J.D. take off. The greenhorn had spunk and Buck liked him. And damn could he ride.
JD found himself smiling as he enjoyed the freedom of riding alone across the land. J.D. was living his dream. His life was a dime store novel. The adventures weren't just something he read about anymore. He got to live them.
He got to ride for money. He was a great rider and soon his fellow riders would figure it out too. Right now he was the only thing standing between Indians, bandits, stampedes, storms, and the people getting their mail. He may not have been born in the west but he would prove himself to be just as tough as any westerner.
He was sent on that orphan train to find a family in this rough land. Maybe he had. The Pony Express riders were kind of like brothers now. They worked together, slept together, ate together, even played together. Whether it was poker games, going swimming and fishing, or even wrestling and joking around it was just how he imagined brothers getting along.
He saw smoke in the distance. He wasn't supposed to stop. It could be a trap. Someone might want something he was carrying. But what if someone needed help. He dismounted and ground tied his mount at the bottom of a hill before sneaking his way up it. He laid on his stomach and peered at the massacre before him. They carried bows and arrows but it was not renegade Indians attacking the wagon, it was white men. Raiders. Bodies littered the ground as they plundered and burned wagons.
He needed to tell someone. He turned to run when he came face to face with an eye-patched ginger. He panicked as the one-eyed man grinned an evil grin, sinisterly twisting his scarred face. He aimed a loaded bow at him.
In a flash JD quickly brought his gun up to bear. He watched in horror as his revolver came apart in his hands. He was defenseless. He threw his useless gun at his attacker taking him by surprise.
The red-haired man shot him as he ran back to his horse. He screamed as the arrow entered his flesh. He pushed through the pain and jumped on his horse. He spurred it towards home.
Vin was right. It wasn't the Indians. The Army was on its way. They would march through and destroy every Indian in the territory. He had to stop them. He had to get the message through. He gripped his horse's reins urging her into breakneck speed towards home.