SEE CHAPTER 1 FOR WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS

Author's notes: I've written this chapter, like most of the stories I write, as I see it playing out in my mind. When I start out, I have only a general idea of where I want the story to go and let the characters tell me how to go about getting there. Hopefully, I haven't strayed too far out of character for the individual players, especially for Chris. If I have, I sincerely apologize. However, given the emotional aspect of this story, especially this chapter, I don't know if I could have told it any other way.

A belated thank you goes out to TenshiNanashi, who made a suggestion that helped me take Sammy's character in a direction I had not considered before. I believe this story is better for it. Again, thank you. It just goes to show that constructive criticism is always welcome and can, often, be helpful.

CHAPTER 10

Ezra opened the front door to the boarding house and ushered Sammy inside. "You are to go directly up to your room and change into your own apparel. Mr. Larabee will be here shortly to deal with you."

Instead of heading upstairs to do as she was told, Sammy stood in the doorway of the parlor. Ezra moved to stand beside her.

"Did you hear what I told you, young lady?"

Sammy started and looked up at the gambler. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Ezra shook his head in disbelief. Given the amount of trouble the girl was already in, he would have assumed she'd be eager to please. "I told you to go upstairs to your room and change into your own apparel." He saw the direction of her gaze. "Is it the piano?"

Sammy nodded, but turned to follow the orders Ezra had issued.

Even without his skill in reading body language, Ezra could have easily read the contradictory mixture of emotion that was consuming the young girl. He sensed a soul-deep desire to play the instrument and give voice to the music that was no doubt pouring through her head. But, at the same time, he sensed hatred, almost to the point of loathing, for the instrument and the desire to play it. "Do you wish to play it?" He watched as the mix of emotions played over her young face.

Several seconds passed before Sammy again nodded.

"Perhaps after you have changed your attire as you have been directed, Mrs. Patterson will grant you permission to play it."

Mrs. Patterson chose that moment to enter the hallway on her way upstairs to deliver fresh linens to the bedrooms. She looked between the gambler and the young woman. As Mrs. Patterson hadn't been able to help overhearing the morning's conversation after the girl had been discovered missing, she was slightly surprised to find the girl standing in her parlor. She had assumed Sammy had disappeared for parts unknown. Mrs. Patterson turned to Sammy and asked, "do you want to play the piano, my dear?"

"Yes, ma'am, if you wouldn't mind."

Ezra was pleased to see that Sammy actually had manners. Given her behavior over the past two days, he had seriously wondered whether her time in the outlaw camp had turned the girl in to a heathen.

"Of course, dear. You may play it any time you wish." Mrs Patterson smiled at Sammy. "It will be nice to see it being put to use again." Seeing the question in Sammy's face, Mrs. Patterson chuckled lightly. "I can't play a single note. The piano belonged to my late husband. I haven't been able to bring myself to sell it, and, every now and again I will have a guest who will play it. The rest of the time, it just sits there gathering dust."

Sammy nodded her understanding. "Thank you, ma'am." She turned and went up the stairs to her room to change her clothing.

Before following Sammy up the stairs, Mrs. Patterson looked at Ezra for a long moment, trying to read the gambler's unreadable face. "Will that child be alright?"

Ezra smiled. "I certainly hope so. It will take time, and a firm and understanding hand, but I believe she will be able to overcome this."

* * * * *

Unlike the day before, Sammy had not been able to loose herself in her music. While playing the instrument soothed her nerves, she could not stop her mind from racing. She figured that morning had been a prime example of her tendency to act before she thought. Truth be told, that's what had landed her in that particular predicament to begin with. It wasn't the first time that she thought that maybe if she had followed her father's orders and returned east, things would have worked out a lot differently. And she wouldn't now be an orphan in the care of a stranger who was stuck with her.

As her mood shifted, her music changed key and she continued to play on. The music coming from the piano now reflected more uncertainty than grief. Given Chris' threats the day before, Sammy was under no illusions of what fate awaited her. And, although she would never admit it to her guardian, she conceded that she probably deserved it. What a way to start a new life – you get pushed off onto someone who doesn't really want to fool with you and the first thing you do is piss him off, she thought to herself. It would serve her right if Larabee got rid of her the first chance he got after the judge left town.

The tone of Sammy's music shifted once again. Her ruminations hadn't solved any of the problems floating around in her head, but had only served to depress her even further. The thought suddenly occurred to her that maybe she would be able to convince Chris to let her go. She had never thought past getting revenge for her parents' deaths and wasn't sure what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go, but she was sure she would figure something out.

* * * * *

Chris yawned and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. He was exhausted. The morning's activities combined with a lack of sleep were catching up to him. He'd spent half the night before at the saloon with the guys planning their strategy for this morning. Even after he'd gone to bed, he'd laid awake thinking about Sammy and what he was going to do with her. He hadn't planned on becoming a father again. But now that he'd been thrust back into that role, he was going to put his heart and soul into it. In the very short time he'd known the girl, he'd already developed a soft spot in his heart for her.

Now, however, all he wanted to do was go back to the boarding house, have a stiff drink, and fall into bed. But, he had Sammy to deal with. He hadn't exactly forbidden her from trying anything against Bart Slater; but he couldn't let her get away with what she'd done, either. The only conclusion he could come to was that he had to tan her backside but good. As much as he'd threatened to do that very thing the day before, he really didn't want to have to do it – especially since Sammy had not yet had the opportunity to learn to trust him. He only hoped that what he was about to do wouldn't destroy whatever fragile bonds had developed between them.

Chris sighed heavily and, running his hand through his hair, he stood and picked up his hat. He was almost to the jailhouse door when it opened and Casey slipped inside. He was a little surprised to the see the girl, not to mention slightly concerned over the air of nervousness that emanated from her.

Casey started slightly when she saw Chris standing so close to her. "Um, Chris," she started nervously. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Can it wait, Casey? I've got something I need to take care of." He tried not to let his impatience show. Casey wouldn't have come looking for him if it wasn't important. But now that he'd set his mind to dealing with Sammy, he didn't particularly want to be side tracked.

Casey took her hat off and held in her hands. She worried it as she gathered the courage to go through with what she had decided to do. "It's kinda about what you've gotta take care of." She looked up and met Chris' eyes. He could see the worry in them that was overriding the nervousness.

Chris gently took Casey's elbow and led her over to a chair in front of the desk and motioned for her to sit down. Once she was seated, he tossed his hat down and perched on the edge of the desk, facing her. "Go on."

Casey swallowed. "I don' know if I should even be doin' this."

Chris smiled gently, hoping to reassure her. "Is it about Sammy?"

Casey nodded.

"And you think it's something I need to know about her."

Again, Casey nodded. "Well, you see, we sorta talked for a while in the clinic, and it's somethin' she told me. But, I don't want her thinkin' that she cain't trust me not to come blabbin' everythin' she tells me. I'd like us to be friends, and that's somethin' a friend just doesn't do. I mean, a friend's supposed to keep another friend's secrets, right."

The girl was babbling. "Casey, if tellin' me is going to help Sammy, I don't think she'll be too upset at you for that. After all, you're just thinking of her best interests, right?"

"I guess, so." Casey paused to take a long look at Chris. What she'd told Sammy about not knowing Chris as well as some of the others was true. He, out of all of the peacekeepers, intimidated her the most. She rarely talked to him, and then usually only when she was with J.D. and they happened to run into him somewhere. "Anyway, while we were talkin', Sammy told me she don't want to stay here. She thinks she's a burden to you and that Judge Travis forced you to take her on." An unpleasant thought suddenly occurred to Casey, what if her new friend had been right. Casey had tried to convince Sammy she was wrong, but, as she had said, she didn't know Chris all that well. "She ain't, is she?"

Chris moved to crouch in front of Casey, so that he was a little less intimidating to the girl. He took her hands in his and smiled up at her. "No, Casey, she isn't a burden. I'll tell you the same thing I'm gonna tell her. Fact is, I'd already decided to take her in before Judge Travis named me her legal guardian. All he did was make it legal."

Casey sighed in relief. "You ain't gonna tell her I told you, are you?"

"I won't tell her. But, I think she'd be glad to have a friend that cared enough to come talk to me." He rose and pulled Casey to her feet. "Thank you for sharing that with me." He was certainly glad Casey had shared the information. Now he knew what kind of approach he would take with Sammy. That was one of the things he'd been worrying about – whether whatever he did would have the unintended consequences of doing harm to the girl's fragile emotional state. Chris was still going to tan her hide, but he would take a different approach than what he had previously planned. He led Casey over to the door. "Why don't you go find J.D. I think he was headed over to the saloon with Buck."

Before stepping out of the door, Casey turned to look back at Chris. He still intimidated her, but she'd just seen a side of him that she hadn't known existed. As a result, she saw the black-clad gunman in a completely new light. She also now felt as if she'd done the right thing by coming to share Sammy's fear with him and was confident that Chris would do the right thing. But, she couldn't help herself from asking, "whatta you gonna do to her?"

Chris started to tell her that what he did with Sammy was none of her business, but thought better of it. "I'm gonna make her understand that what she did today was wrong. Hopefully, I can convince her that she's not a burden." He gave Casey's shoulder a quick squeeze of reassurance. "Why don't you stop by later this afternoon to see her. I'm sure she'll need somebody to talk to."

Casey nodded. "Thanks, Chris." She stepped through the door, and Chris closed it softly behind her. He sighed again as he stepped back to the desk to get his hat. He wondered for the first time whether he'd done the right thing taking on the girl, both for his and for Sammy's sake. Sammy probably needed more emotional support and help than he would be able to give her. Closing the door behind himself as he stepped out onto the front porch of the jailhouse, he mentally shook himself. He had some inkling of the girl's pain and need for revenge. His own personal need to seek vengeance for his family's deaths had nearly consumed him. Having dealt with those emotions himself, perhaps he was the right choice to help Sammy work through her anger and pain.

The first thing Chris noticed when he stepped into the boarding house was the piano music. He swore softly under his breath, not knowing whether it had been Ezra or Sammy who had disobeyed his order that she be waiting on him in her room. He spotted Ezra leaning against the parlor doorway. Chris stepped up behind the gambler and said, "I thought I told you I wanted her to wait in her room."

Ezra turned to look at the black-clad gunman. He had known the minute Chris had walked through the front door. "Ah, Mr. Larabee. I had wondered when you would arrive." He gestured toward Sammy. "I determined that our Miss Browning would be better served by allowing her a much needed emotional release rather than confining her to her bed chamber, where she would only sit and brood."

Chris gave Ezra a hard look as he passed by him and stepped into the room. "Uh-huh." He stepped into the parlor and walked straight to the piano. Stopping directly behind Sammy, he cleared his throat to get her attention. She immediately stopped playing and turned to look at him. He didn't miss the flicker of fear that crossed her face before she covered it with a defiant look. "Get up to your room. You and I need to have a serious talk about this morning." When Sammy didn't move, but continued to glare at him, he pulled her to her feet and landed a hard swat to her backside. "Now!" Deciding it was in her best interest to obey, Sammy quickly started for the stairs. Ezra gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she passed.