Chapter Six

Something had happened. Buck Wilmington could feel it the moment the gray mare rounded the bend past the Ritz Hotel and carried him down the wide bustling main street of Four Corners. There was a twittering, nervous excitement in the air that he readily associated with a calamity or confrontation of some sort or another. Judging from the wide berth the boardwalk traffic was giving to the lean dark figure seated outside the Jail, he'd be willing to bet that flying lead was somehow involved.

He reined the gray in just a few feet shy of the Clarion's front door and took in the street with a knowing eye. "Aw hell," he muttered, more to himself than the horse. "Now what did we miss?"

"There does appear to be a decided tension in the air," Josiah Sanchez agreed, drawing abreast of him. The preacher nodded towards the ominous form that tilted back in the chair outside the jail's sun-warmed wall, glowering at the world from beneath the wide flat brim of the black hat.

"Perhaps Brother Larabee could enlighten us as to its cause."

"Oh, I've no doubt of that." Buck made no move to urge his mount forward, clearly reluctant to progress with the suggestion.

"We likely ought to tell him about that Army Supply train we crossed tracks with," Josiah prodded.

"You tell him," Buck snorted, recognizing all the signs of a particularly foul Chris Larabee mood. "I'd like to live long enough to have a drink and wash the dust outta my gullet."

Before Josiah could respond, Buck wheeled his mount and prepared to cut down the alley behind the Clarion instead of continuing down the main street.

"Taking the road less traveled, brother?" Josiah queried, noting Buck's grim look of determination.

"Hell yes," Buck muttered. "If we ride past him, we'll have to say hello and he'll bite our heads off. If we ride past him and don't say hello, he'll bite our heads off and kick 'em down the street." The big man eyed the preacher solemnly. "I do believe I'd like to keep my head right where it is, if it's all the same to you."

The preacher nodded and turned his horse to follow. "Discretion is the better part of valor," he said sagely.

Buck cast him a searching look as he turned the gray mare to circle behind the Clarion and down the long row of buildings to the Livery. "Uh-huh… well, I don't know much about discretion, but I'll swap valor for horse sense any day."

He turned his mare down the back street towards the warren of pens and lots nestled behind the livery. "Besides, we can just as well send Yosemite and that new wheelwright, Mulroney out there to help those Army boys. There's no need to trouble Chris about it."

Josiah nodded to a small knot of horses tied to the fence of one of the corrals. They wore military saddles and government brands marked them at both shoulder and hip. "Looks like this must be the rest of that company the supply train was supposed to meet up with."

Buck sighed. "Well, I reckon that answers the question as to why they weren't out lookin' for their wagons. Most likely they hit town and got distracted."

"Couldn't have been too distracted," Josiah said, "Considering the supply train had their payroll."

Buck made a noncommittal noise as he halted the gray at the door of the livery. His mind was starting to sketch a likely picture to go with the tension fraught street, but he didn't say as much to Josiah. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a little distraction myself."

"Amen, brother." Josiah replied as they swung down and led their mounts into the barn.

Unsaddling their horses, they rubbed them down and gave the animals a generous measure of oats from the granary before turning their tired mounts into the corral to join the others. Crossing the street, they resolutely made their way up the boardwalk and into the saloon. The smoky interior was dark, but welcoming as Buck and Josiah elbowed their way up to the bar for Inez's famous spring-cooled beer. Slapping a coin down upon the bar, Buck nodded sociably to the grizzled man beside him as he waited for his drink.

"How's business, Ike?"

Ike Deavers nodded companionably. "Can't complain," the teamster said. "Since the army garrisoned camp outside of town, I can't keep the storekeepers in goods."

"Things do seem a bit livelier than usual," Buck observed.

Ike merely chuckled. "Son, that just might be the understatement of the week."

Buck meant to ask the old man what he meant by the comment, but Inez chose that moment to deliver the icy brew, then quickly whirled off before Buck could so much as thank her. He took his beer and followed Josiah, who had moved off to join Nathan, JD and Vin at a near-by table.

"Howdy boys," Buck said, taking a seat opposite Nathan. "I see you let the place go clean to Hell while I was gone." He nodded at the tables filled with soldiers. "They stayin' long?"

In the wilderness of the territories, most folks found comfort in the presence of the army. Still, there was something about the sudden flood of uniforms on the streets of town that set his teeth on edge. The quiet tension he sensed in his comrades told him he was not alone in his sentiments. In fact, the nervous energy that he had sensed upon the streets of town seemed magnified tenfold within the dimly lit building. There was a definite line, he noticed, between the saloon's usual patrons and the soldiers who filled the normally empty tables. There was a tightening around Nathan's mouth as he glanced at the newcomers, and JD seemed unusually serious as they watched Inez dart among the tables serving drinks and taking orders. Buck frowned. Even the saucy Mexican bar maid did not seem quite herself. There was wariness in her movements and forced levity in her smiles as she placed drinks before her customers. Only Ezra, ensconced at his usual table with a deck of cards, a glass of whiskey and deeply involved in a poker game with several soldiers, seemed completely at ease.

Vin's blue eyes were watchful as he tracked Inez's progress through the tap room. "Chris spoke to the Major this morning. They're waitin' to meet up with a supply train from Fort McPhearson, then they'll be movin' on to build a new outpost south of here."

"They'll be waiting a mite longer then," Josiah put in. "We came across their wagons a mile south of Parson's Grove. They had some trouble coming through the pass."

JD quirked an interested eyebrow. "What kind of trouble?"

Josiah shrugged. Some Apache braves out on a hunting party decided to make it a war party instead. They took some shots at them."

Nathan frowned. "Anyone hurt?"

Buck shook his head. "Naw. Banged up one of their corporals is all. They did lose one of the wagons though. Team spooked, the tongue broke and the whole load went tumbling right over the edge of the cliff. That boy's lucky he bailed out when he did or he'd a ended up at the bottom of Dawson's gulch flatter than one of Inez's tortilla's."

JD snorted. "You'd think with all the trouble those renegade Apaches have been giving lately, they would have sent more soldiers with those wagons."

"I reckon that's what they were sending the wagons and these fellas out to build that outpost for in the first place," Vin sighed. "Of course they might have thought to send them together."

Nathan grimaced. "That there is what they call military planning," he said dryly.

Vin slouched back in his seat and regarded Buck with steady blue eyes. "Those fellas gonna need any help?"

Buck shook his head. "Already took care of it. They got a broken axle on one of the wagons and lost a wheel on another. We made a mention of it to Yosemite when we put up the horses, and Josiah stopped one of their sergeants on the street to tell him and pass the word along." He shrugged. "Maybe if a few of these boys ride out after those wagons it will smooth Chris's hackles some. I imagine all this extra company is what has put him in his sparklin' mood?"

Vin and Nathan exchanged meaningful looks with JD. "Among other things," Nathan said at last.

Buck shot a hard look at the kid. He had schooled his features into his best imitation of Ezra's famous poker face, but his brown eyes fairly danced with some barely contained knowledge. Yep, Buck decided sitting back in his chair, something had definitely happened. He was about to reach over and shake the information out of the kid when an angelic vision swept past him in a swirl of sun-faded skirts.

"Hola, Señor Buck. I see you are back at last." Inez danced through the tangled crowd of tables in her own mad version of a ballet dance as she set a fresh mug before Nathan.

Buck fixed her with what he imagined to be his most dazzling smile. "Miss me?"

She returned the smile, but not the affection. "Of course, Señor, I miss all of our paying customers."

"I think she's warming up to me," Buck said happily.

"In your dreams, maybe," Nathan snorted.

"A man's got to have his dreams, Nathan," Buck pronounced and sipped his beer thoughtfully. "What did she mean by that 'paying customer' crack? I paid up my tab before I left town."

Nathan sighed. "Soldiers are short on real money. They been buying things around town with Army script –or trying to, anyways. Inez is one of the merchants refusing to accept it. She ain't real popular at the moment."

Buck's face darkened. "They give her any trouble?"

JD's brown eyes danced. "Not any more. Ezra's handling it."

Buck turned to stare at the gambler, still seated at his usual table and surrounded by soldiers. Only then did he notice that what appeared to be a poker game was not at all the case. The cards had been laid aside and tidy stacks of US currency and military script were placed in orderly rows upon the table. Ezra was making small notations in his ever present notebook as a row of soldiers lined up before his table.

"What's he up to now?" Buck wondered.

Nathan frowned. "You are looking at the Standish First National Bank, established as of about an hour ago. He's been exchanging script for currency, giving them about fifty cents on the dollar. He figures that when the payroll wagon shows up with the supply train, he'll clean up."

"That's highway robbery!" Buck growled.

Amusement glinted in Vin's blue eyes. "That's what they said," the tracker observed. "Of course at the time they were playin' cards for the money, even up. Guess they figure this way they've at least got a fightin' chance at a drink."

"Good old Ezra," Buck said, feeling the broad grin spreading it's way across his face as he digested this news, "he's always workin' the angles, ain't he?"

Nathan snorted. "He'll end up swingin' from the end of one if he ain't careful. Give those fellas enough whiskey and some time to think about it, and they'll be lookin' to stretch his neck."

"Aw, I reckon he's ok as long as the money holds out." JD put in. "That Army train will be in with the payroll wagon anytime now, and Ezra ought to be able to cash it in."

Or maybe not… Buck thought as he met Josiah's knowing eyes and struggled to contain the laughter that threatened to escape him. He and the preacher might be late to the dance, but he had an inkling that there was at least one more tune to be called. He fully intended to have himself a ringside seat to Ezra's table when that Army supply train finally arrived, bruised, broken …and one wagon short. He shot a glance towards Josiah, wondering if the other man was going to spill the beans now, or let it ride, but the preacher seemed to content to silently sip his beer.

The clatter of a heavy wagon and a bellowing voice brought JD quickly from his chair. The young Sheriff peered out the curtained window, his boyish face looking quite grim and serious. "The Lieutenant's back," he called out over his shoulder.

"Reilly?" Nathan queried.

JD nodded. "He brought the ambulance, too."

Ambulance? Buck wondered, his brow furrowing as both Tanner and Jackson got to their feet and followed JD out onto the boardwalk. Shore as hell, he was gonna throttle somebody if they didn't tell him just what in blazes was going on around here. Slipping through the swinging doors, Buck took a position beside the door. Josiah followed suit, leaning against a post opposite Nathan. If the older man was curious as to the strange undercurrents that seemed to be running through both the town and their comrades, he didn't show it. Instead, he remained a stoic witness, confident that all would be revealed in good time. Buck sighed. The preacher's patience was enough to try his own.

After another moment, Ezra appeared with Inez hovering nervously behind his shoulder. Even Mary Travis could now be seen standing at the door of the Clarion and gazing down the street. Buck shook his head. Whatever this was about, the whole damned town seemed to be waiting with baited breath.

Larabee was on his feet now, the height of the elevated boardwalk giving him a slight advantage over the mounted officer. Their voices were low enough that none of the six could make out the words, but their dark, terse expressions clearly revealed that the two were not exchanging pleasantries. After a moment, the Lieutenant turned and barked a terse order to the men who accompanied him. Two privates and a corporal dismounted and linked their horses. The corporal passed his lead to the sergeant in charge of the detail. One of the troopers assisted an orderly in unloading a stretcher from the ambulance, and the four men filed into the Jail behind Chris.

"You know, I got the feelin' Josiah and I have been a day late an' a dollar short ever since we hit town." Buck groused, watching as the orderly and one of the privates returned bearing a wounded soldier on the stretcher. "Is there somethin' you boys wanna share?"

He did not miss the swift exchange of glances that bounced between Ezra, Vin and Nathan. A mutual, unspoken agreement was reached and the gambler shifted lightly, his tongue darting out to touch his bottom lip as he formulated his answer.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Buck… a minor altercation at best."

"If it was so damned minor, then how come they're haulin' that fella out on a board?" Buck asked sarcastically.

The gambler hesitated, but remained as unflappable as ever. "There seemed to be some misunderstanding as to the correct closing time here at the saloon. Regrettably, some individuals require more convincing than others."

"What did ya' convince him with? Your .45?"

The gambler smiled, "The derringer, actually."

Buck snorted with disbelief. "You laid him low with that pea shooter?"

Ezra's smile broadened, his gold tooth shining brightly in the afternoon sun. "Size is irrelevant, Mr. Wilmington. It's all in the accuracy …and the caliber of the piece."

The wounded man was loaded carefully into the ambulance, then the corporal and the other private appeared marshalling out yet another trooper in irons. This man was placed in the back of the ambulance with his fellow prisoner, and a mounted guard formed at the back of the wagon. At a word from the officer, the Sergeant barked a crisp command, wheeling the column in the middle of the street and taking it back out of town in the direction from which it had come. Larabee had returned to his chair, his gaze crossing the street to meet the eyes of his comrades. A dark smile lit his features and was instantly returned by Vin, who shifted away from the post he'd been leaning against and ambled back into the saloon. It was followed by brief nods from Nathan and JD and Ezra's two fingered salute, as the rest of their number filed back inside after the Texan. Buck tossed his own brief nod towards the gunman and then turned to Josiah, who was watching the progress of the departing column with a thoughtful expression.

"Why is it I get the feeling there's a whole lot more to this than Ezra let on?" Buck grumbled.

The preacher smiled wryly. "There is always more to a story than Ezra is ever willing to tell." He shot Buck a knowing look. "Rest assured, Brother, we will know all in good time. I suspect this particular tale is such that our young Mr. Dunne will not be able to suppress it for long."

Buck frowned at his empty mug as he puzzled over Josiah's words. The preacher had been growing unusually eloquent as of late. --Too much reading, most likely. He was getting almost as confusing as Ezra.

"Well," Buck said glumly, "if I ain't gonna get any information, I might as well get another drink."

Shoving their way back inside the saloon, Buck noticed that the place seemed to have resumed its bustling trade. Elbowing their way back up to the bar, Buck found himself standing once more between Yosemite and Ike Deavers. Nodding again to each of the men, he shoved over to make room for Josiah as he looked about for Inez. He spotted her moving around the far end of the bar, her tray loaded with brimming mugs. Buck watched as she skillfully moved among the crowded bodies, stepping to a dance all her own as she dodged beyond the reach of groping hands.

Being a connoisseur of women, Buck had spent a great deal of his spare time watching them, studying their habits in hope of best discovering how to charm them. Inez was no exception, and though he as virtually on the brink of conceding his failure in swaying her with his charms, he still found watching her a far better pastime than staring at the unshaven faces of his comrades. He had noticed that there was a method to her madness, a patter to her movements as she moved from table to table dispensing her drinks. She carefully avoided those customers who seemed to show undue interest in her, often serving drinks from behind a patron who appeared either the most formidable or the least interested, and using that customer as a shield. Among the seven men who frequently seated themselves around their usual table, he had noticed that she usually positioned herself between Chris or Nathan, counting on the healer's stuffy disapproval and the dark gunman's grim demeanor to buffer her from Buck's own incessant advances when she was not in the mood to spar with him.

Ezra, it appeared, had become another one of her favored safe zones. Each time she served the table of soldiers over which he was currently presiding, she did so from behind his shoulder, often reaching across or over him to serve the other men. What was more, she never strayed more than a step or two from the gambler's side as she waited on the other tables surrounding his own. Nor did Buck miss the quick, darting glances that the Southerner cast her way as she moved out of his direct vicinity. Buck's brow furrowed. This was a new development. He observed the two intently for a moment, considering their easy familiarity, and then quickly dismissed the idea as ludicrous. Ezra's interest in women was based purely on money, and Inez had none. As for Inez, he was well aware that she had standards. Lord knew she'd told him that often enough.

Inez quickly emptied her tray and returned to the bar where she poured more rounds for the customers that awaited her there. Placing fresh drinks before Yosemite, Josiah, Buck and Ike, she refilled her empty tray and dodged back out among the crowded tables.

"I shore wouldn't mind getting closer to that little Spanish spitfire," a brash and slightly drunken young voice mused from the other side of Ike Deavers.

"No spit there, son," Deavers' gritty voice observed from behind his mug. "Best not to try touchin' that one or she'll burn you for sure."

At the mention of Inez, five sets of ears tuned instantly to the conversation, but relaxed a bit at the teamster's effort to warn the stranger off.

"In that case, I reckon me an' her could really burn the place down," the younger man said, a lewd grin playing at his mouth.

Buck bit back his own smile and sipped his beer. Having been publicly struck down on his own account more times than he could remember, he was rather looking forward to participating in this round as a spectator. It sounded like the kid could use some manners where it came to talk of women, and Buck knew it would only be a matter of time before someone threw a bucket of water on the newcomer's smoldering desire. He did not have long to wait.

Ike Deavers cackled heartily, his grizzled face splitting into a broad grin as he eyed the other man. "Take my advice friend, an' leave well enough alone." The teamster paused to nod towards the table placed high upon the staircase landing. "The last man fool enough to mess with Standish's woman got his balls shot off for the trouble."

Ike's words caught Buck in mid-swallow, causing him to choke and splutter on his beer as he gasped for breath.

"What!" He roared turning several heads with his indignation.

The teamster fixed Buck with a gap-toothed grin. "It's true! You don't believe me? Ask your healer friend."

Buck shot a sideways glance at Yosemite. The burly liveryman grinned broadly and nodded his head. Spinning on his heel, Buck rounded on his three comrades, who sat hunkered down at their table near the bar. Guilty expressions, mingled with a good deal of resignation and even a hint of laughter marked their faces as they gave serious thought to the bottoms of their beer mugs.

Vin sighed. "Well, so much for lettin' it blow over."

JD tugged nervously at his bowler hat and rose quickly from the table. "I gotta go ride patrol," he said.

"Sit down, Kid," Buck growled, laying a hand on the young man's shoulder and shoving him back down into his chair. He glowered from Vin to Nathan to JD. "I think I've had about enough of the manure ya'll have been shovelin'. So which one of you is gonna cut the crap and tell me what in the hell has been goin' on around here?"

As Josiah had predicted, it was the kid who broke first. JD fairly bubbled with glee as he quietly related the tale of Ezra and Inez's run-in with the two soldiers the night before. Buck shook his head. For the life of him, he didn't know why they were so reluctant to mention it. If Ike and Yosemite were any indication, everybody in the whole damned town knew about it anyway. Taking off his hat, Buck ran a harried hand through his hair as he tried to hold on to the frayed remains of his temper. Furious as he was at the soldiers attempt to molest Inez, he still could not help but wince at the thought of the injury Ezra had inflicted.

"He really shot 'em off?" Buck asked, unable to repress a grimace. He made a mental note never to provoke the gambler where a woman was involved.

Nathan's dark eyes danced above the rim of his beer mug. "Well now, I like to allow my patience some privacy regarding their medical condition… but I think it's safe to say that's one horse soldier who won't be sitting a horse for a while."

"Good," Buck growled. He looked worriedly at Inez. "She all right?" he asked quietly, noting the way she moved through the tap room –too quick and too nervous—it made sense now.

"She would be if people would quit talkin' about it," Vin said tiredly. "I reckon the gossip is troublin' her more than anything."

Buck followed her movements for a long moment, his face full of concern. "Maybe I oughtta talk to her."

Nathan rolled his eyes. Hadn't the big ox heard a word Vin just said? "I wouldn't advise it. She ain't much in a talkin' mood."

The healer shook his head as Wilmington blithely moved off in pursuit of the barmaid. For all that the ladies man was supposed to know about women, his instincts tended to be dead wrong when it came to Inez.

"You think he'll ever learn?" Nathan sighed.

"He's managed to avoid it this far," Chris said, dropping into the chair Buck had just vacated.

Vin slouched back in his chair and shot Larabee a curious glance. "So what did the Army have to say?"

Chris shook his head. "They weren't happy," he allowed, "but they didn't seem to have time to argue about it."

"They got troubles of their own," Vin said, nodding towards Josiah. "Josiah and Buck ran across their missing wagons. Seem's they ran afoul of some Apache braves."

The gunman's dark gaze swiveled towards the preacher. "They all right?"

"Lost a wagon, broke a wheel and an axle on another," Josiah said. "I reckon they'll be gathering up the rest of the company and riding out any time."

Nathan watched as a small group of soldiers rose from their table and left. "Never thought I'd hear myself say such a thing," he said quietly, "but I do believe that's the best news I've heard all day."

Larabee flashed a quick dark smile and looked round for Inez.

"I'll drink to that."

"Inez…"

Inez ducked around the corner of the bar into her kitchen and closed her eyes. Madre de Dios, the man simply did not know when to quit! Could he not see that she wanted to be left to her work? It was hard enough stepping out into that room, facing those men, without him chasing her apron strings. She knew by the thunderclouds in his face that he had heard about last night.

He wanted to talk about it. She did not. Now was not the time. If she spoke of it, she would remember. And if she remembered, she would live it all over again… the helplessness… the fear. She could not afford to do that right now. Ezra had been right. She could not allow them to see her fear. If she did, she would never be able to face them.

She felt his presence, looming over her, even before she opened her eyes.

"Inez," his voice was gentle, coaxing, and she steeled herself against it as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "Inez, are you all right?"

"I am fine," she said brusquely, and reached above the stove for a tin plate to load with beans and frijoles.

"Like hell you are," Buck growled. "You're as jumpy as a cat in a room full of hound dogs."

She said nothing as she spooned a liberal helping of beans onto the plate.

"I heard about the soldiers."

She said nothing.

"Damn it!" Buck snapped, raising his hat to rake a hand through his dark locks. "Don't you have anything to say?"

"What is there to say?" She replied, willing her hand not to shake as she laid two frijoles upon the plate. "It happened. It has been handled. It is done."

"It's not done, Inez," Buck retorted. "Those men should pay for what they did."

She shrugged. "I believe they have paid sufficiently. Ezra has seen to that."

"Ezra," Buck repeated, the name was a low growl in the back of his throat. "Why the hell didn't Ezra stop them from coming in here in the first place? –For that matter, why the hell didn't Jake? He's supposed to be the one locking up anyhow, where the devil was he?"

She set the plate of food carefully down on her small work table and hesitated as she considered her answer. She could tell him the truth. She could tell him how she had fired Jake and how Jake had gotten his revenge by plying the soldiers with liquor and setting them upon her. Her mind rode swiftly down that trail and just as quickly turned back. No, she decided. Telling Buck the truth could have only one outcome. He would ride after Jake McQueen and only more trouble would come of it. Buck, for all of his heart and sense of honor, would never be able to see what Ezra and even Vin had intuitively understood. He would never understand her embarrassment, or her burning desire for the whole matter to be forgotten. The sooner that everything returned to normal, the sooner that she could be normal. She needed to forget, to pretend it had never happened. She needed to be able to walk out into that room full of men with a tray of drinks upon her arm and smile without fear.

No, she could not tell Buck the truth, but neither would she lie.

"Jake is gone," she said simply.

Buck's brow furrowed. "Gone where?"

"Quien sabe?" She said, shrugging nonchalantly. "He was a drunk. I fired him. Where he went is his business."

Buck shook his head. "I still don't like it. You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm not alone," she reminded him. "Ezra is still taking the room at the top of the stairs. Senor Vin still keeps his wagon in the alley out back and Senor Larabee, or JD or Nathan is usually here until close." She cocked her head as she considered this. "I have friends here," she said as much to herself as to Buck. "I am less alone than I have ever been."

"Inez—

"Leave it Buck," she said sharply. "It is over. I do not wish to discuss it any more."

Picking up her plates of food, she turned and marched back out into the crowded tap room. She felt her pulse jump at the sea of blue uniforms crowded round the tables and lining the bar, but mindful of Ezra's advice, she forged into the midst of them, forcing back her fear and uneasiness. She could do this, she told herself. She had to do this. Ezra was right. She could not let them see her fear, and it was just for a little while longer. She had overheard what Buck and Josiah had said about the Army supply train being delayed. She could pretend to be brave until then. If she thought very hard about what Ezra had said, if she reminded herself that he and Vin and Nathan had hardly left the saloon all day, well she thought she could last that long. She had friends here, she reminded herself, and if she was very careful with it, she might have just enough courage to last until morning. And, as Ezra had said, things would be different then.

Fixing a smile upon her face, she walked to a table filled with soldiers and set the plates of food before them. Mañana, she told herself as she side-stepped a too-friendly hand. It could not come soon enough.