Please see chapter 1 for warnings and disclaimers.
Chapter 2
Ethan sighed as he finished the last of the sweeping. The first part of the morning had been spent in apologies. Luckily, Ethan could be extremely convincing when he put his mind to it and he knew how to use his youthful appearance to his advantage. A practiced puppy dog look didn't hurt either. Overall the people of Four Corners had been relatively forgiving. He could tell that the citizens of the town trusted the seven peacekeepers, so when Chris assured them that Ethan had been dealt with and would be making restitution, not one of them wanted to press charges. Of course there were a handful that he hadn't gotten to yet.
The boy had been restocking, cleaning shelves, and sweeping floors for the rest of the morning. Not fun, but it could be worse. Point of fact it would be worse after lunch. Mr. Larabee had given him that long to "remember" where the rest of the stolen loot was. Ethan sighed, but then something caught his eye out the window and he grinned.
"Ah, Mr. Willmington? I need to use the outhouse."
"Alright," Buck nodded and rose from his seat where he'd been looking through a mail order catalog. To say their young charge was a flight risk was putting things mildly so the tall gunman walked the boy out then took up watch outside the small structure and waited. After a while, the ladies man had to wonder if this wasn't a ploy to get out of working, though.
"Ethan?" Buck called knocking on the door.
"I'm uh, finishin' up. Be right out," an anxious young voice called. True to his word he emerged moments later.
Buck grinned, confident that the boy had just been stalling to get a break from the tedium of his tasks. The unfortunate lad had days of chores to do around Four Corners to make up for his pranking and theft. Being quite the charmer, the boy had a couple of the ladies practically wrapped around his finger and willing to let him off, but Chris was having none of that. If the wronged party didn't assign a chore, the authoritarian gunslinger did.
"Think you're about done in the store. How 'bout we go get some grub?"
"Sounds good," Ethan grinned broadly.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"It's somewhere in that copse a trees behind the livery," the boy told Chris. "Maybe if I walk about a bit, I can find which tree it was."
The blond man nodded, "Alright, lets go, but you make a run for it and I might just take advantage of the setting and cut a switch."
The boy's green eyes grew wide as saucers at the threat and he swallowed hard. He'd never been switched and would just as soon keep it that way. "I won't run, sir."
"Vin, why don't you come along with us? Maybe you can see some sign of where this little imp hid the stuff."
The three headed to the livery and then continued on while Ethan diligently hunted for markers to cue his memory. As it happened they weren't really that difficult to find when the trio started looking. Vin could have found it without Ethan remembering where he'd hidden the stash since the signs were fairly obvious to the tracker.
"Alright," Chris nodded. "We'll return these things this afternoon."
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"You're telling me that little hoodlum stole my prize Henrietta and he's not locked up?" the shrill voice of the gray-haired Mrs. Hollis demanded. "What did you do with my little Etta?" she asked raising her walking cane threateningly.
"I…I'm real sorry Ma'am, she a sorta got away," the boy answered shakily taking a step toward Chris.
Buck stepped forward with a big smile for the wizened old woman. "Now, Mz. Hollis, don't you fret, we're doin' all we can to find little Etta," the tall mustached man took the old widow's arm and led her to her porch "You just gotta understand, the boy didn't mean ta cause such trouble. He lost his Ma not long ago, and not havin' the benefit of a good woman's touch, you know like yours, well he made some mistakes that's for certain. Now Chris here gave him a good whuppin' and the boy's doin' his best ta make up for what he done. I see ya could use yer wood stacked up close to yer back door and I think that'd be a fine job for the boy. Chris there will get him started on that and you and me can go inside and talk about what other chores you got that might need doin'."
"You're damn lucky Buck's ability to charm women doesn't have age limits," Chris chuckled as he watched the bemused Mz. Hollis walk into her house with the tall peacekeeper. "That old gal was likely to skin you alive. I sure as hell hope you didn't eat that hen of hers."
Ethan swallowed hard, "No sir, I didn't. I swear."
"That's good. It'll likely come back lookin' for an easy meal and safe place to roost so long as a dog didn't get it. You best get started stackin' that wood."
Ethan gave a heavy sigh looking at the large pile before him. "Not sure I wouldn't rather face the old hag with the cane," he mumbled.
Chris hid a smile and settled to watch the boy at his task until Buck was done sweet- talking the widow Hollis. Then he needed to make that trip out to the Parker's place and talk to Danny's pa. Boys were bound to put together a game now and again, but along with the cigarettes, the peacekeepers found a pilfered bottle of whisky where the boys were having their little game. The seven men had more than enough to handle with bank robbers, cattle rustlers, and other undesirables. They didn't need to add a gang of drunk and rowdy adolescents to that mix. Not when a few fired up parents could easily nip that potential problem in the bud.
It wasn't fifteen minutes before Buck ambled out with a wide grin on his face. "Shoot, don't know what Vin's problem is. Mz. Hollis is right hospitable once ya get ta know her."
"I don't suppose Vin cared to take the time to do that," Chris replied with his lips twitching. "Can you keep an eye on Ethan for a bit longer? I'll send JD over to take your place. I need to get out to the Parker's and talk to Ned."
"Sure thing. Mz. Hollis set herself to baking some cookies so I'm good here for a spell. Do have me plans to meet up with Ellie Mae later on, but she'll just be all that more happy to see me for having to wait. "
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"So how'd things go with Mz. Hollis?" Vin queried as Chris approached the jailhouse. The tracker sat leaned back in a chair on the boardwalk.
"She was none too happy with Ethan, but Buck worked his magic and I don't think she'll be pressing charges."
"Huh, well, more power to him," Vin replied, shaking his head in wonder.
"I'm riding out to Parker's if you feel like stretching your legs."
"I could go for a ride," Vin said coming to his feet. "Ya git the rest o' the plunder back to the rightful owners?"
"All but Swanson's timepiece."
"That ole buzzard's an odd stick. Bein's how Buck talked Mz. Hollis down I'm guessin' he's gonna be the one ta take it the worst."
"He's gettin' his property back unharmed."
"Yeah, but if anyone's gonna push ta see the kid put in a workhouse it'll be him."
"That's not gonna happen," Chris stated darkly.
Vin hid a smile, and didn't say much until they reached the livery.
"I wouldn't mind stoppin' ta take another look back yonder in those trees."
"Why's that?" Chris looked quizzically at his friend.
"Don't make no sense really, but I'd a put good money down sayin' those tracks around Ethan's stash were made today."
"Ethan didn't say when he hid the stuff."
"I know," Vin nodded.
"He's not been out of our sight since last night. Couldn't have been today," Chris continued.
"Said it made no sense."
"Let's go," Chris headed in the direction of the trees behind the livery.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"Afternoon, Josiah," Mrs. Potter said smiling up at the former preacher.
"And a good one it is, Mrs. Potter. Just thought I'd check in to see how things went this morning."
"I told you before, just call me Gloria. As far as Ethan, he may have caused his share of trouble, but that boy's a good, hard worker. Truth is I feel a bit bad for him, losing his ma and not knowing where his pa is."
"Well, the work isn't going to hurt the boy, and will hopefully teach him a valuable lesson. At the same time he'll have some regular meals and a safe, dry place to sleep."
"I hope Mr. Larabee wasn't too hard on him. He's a sweet little scamp. I can't believe he's Levi's age. I'd of put him two years younger."
"Yeah he's a small one, but Chris was fair. You don't need to worry about him. Speaking of Levi," he looked over to the boy who was busy writing on a slate at a small desk in the corner of the store. Josiah recognized the thick black Bible sitting next to the lad and guessed he was paying for some the poor choices he had been making lately. "Thought I might ask if I could borrow him a little later this week. I've got a project at the church that I could use his help with."
"I think some hard work would do him good," Mrs. Potter nodded with a smile on her face. After a stern lecture and a just a few smacks to his bottom, she had told the boy he was restricted to home or store unless she was with him. Today he was copying Bible verses and helping clean the storeroom, but with Ethan having come to restock, wash shelves, and clean the floors, she was going to run out of chores for the boy. Quite likely the active ten-year-old would be driving her insane before she was willing to lift his restriction. Josiah's offer was a godsend.
Neither noticed the boy's grin. He'd far rather be out helping Mr. Sanchez than stuck inside with his ma. Maybe the preacher would even show him how to use some tools.
"I'll appreciate the help and the company," Josiah answered with a big smile for the widow, which brought a blush to her face.
"You just let me know when you want him," Gloria Potter said, trying to ignore the odd fluttering in her stomach.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
"You come on up to the porch and have some lemonade and a cookie, young man," ordered Mrs. Hollis in a no nonsense tone. "Won't have you passing out with heat exhaustion before you finish the work you've to do for me. There's a basin to wash your hands right there."
Ethan was quick to obey and Buck smiled, brushing cookie crumbs from his mustache with a checkered napkin. The woman's reputation as the crotchety town harridan was at odds with her rather forgiving and charitable behavior this afternoon. Of course Buck had always found that if you showed a woman a bit of honest appreciation you could win most any of them over. Not that it had quite worked with Inez yet, but it would. One day it would, he was certain.
"Thank ya Ma'am," Ethan offered politely after accepting his snack.
"Hmf!" was the only reply he got as she bustled around the porch. "Looks as if our young Sheriff is coming. Reckon I better get him some as well."
"Hey, Mrs. Hollis, Buck, Ethan."
"Hey, JD, whatcha been up to?" Buck asked amiably, having expected his friend far sooner but happy that he hadn't missed the cookies.
Turning beet red JD murmured, "Oh, ah nothin' really. Ms. Nettie needed help loading her groceries so I stuck around and waited for her to finish her shopping."
Buck nodded knowingly. "So, you catch up with Casey while Nettie was shopping?"
"I reckon I might of," the young peacekeeper answered somewhat defensively.
"Well, sit yourself down and have some lemonade and a cookie," Mrs. Hollis instructed brusquely. Well used to being alone she found that she rather liked having someone to fuss over, though she'd never admit it.
With a wide grin, JD did as he was told. Fresh baked cookies were a treat at any age. "Thank you Ma'am."
"They's real good cookies," Ethan informed him, offering Mrs. Hollis an impish smile.
"Well, maybe you'd best have one more before you get back to stacking. That way you'll have lots of energy for your task," she answered by way of accepting the compliment.
Ethan did just that and was soon back at the woodpile while JD watched, thumbing through one of his favorite dime novels. After about an hour the boy called over to the young Sheriff.
"Mr. Dunn?"
"Just call me JD," the peacekeeper laughed.
"Uh, I gotta use the outhouse," the boy pointed to the small building.
"That's fine. I can see it from here. Go ahead."
The boy did just that but after more than ten minutes JD started getting suspicious. He headed toward the outhouse and his look grew perplexed. Was Ethan in there arguing with himself over something? Maybe the heat and hard work had gotten to the boy.
"Ethan?" he called.
"Uh, I…ah…I'll be right out."
JD heard frustrated whispering and decided that he'd best take the boy to see Nathan as soon as he was done. Just then the boy came stumbling out, almost falling down.
"You okay, Ethan?" JD asked reaching to offer the boy a steadying hand.
Ethan jerked away. "I'm fine."
"You know, I think you've done enough for today. Let's go say our goodbye's to Mrs. Hollis and then I think I'd best take you to see Nathan."
"Nathan?"
"Yeah, he knows about doctoring and such."
"I ain't sick," Ethan responded with a glower.
"So you wasn't in there arguin' with yourself?"
"So what if I was? Ain't like I've got anyone better ta talk to," Ethan answered snidely.
JD looked askance at the boy, all the more convinced that he needed to take Ethan to see the dark-skinned healer. Though mischievous, the boy had been nothing but good-natured and polite thus far.
"You're acting a little different. Think it's best if Nathan looks you over."
A worried look crossed Ethan's freckled face. "Aw, JD, I'm all right, I swear," he pleaded his voice wheedling and his green eyes looking up beseechingly. "I'm sorry. I'm just outta sorts cuz I've been workin' all day. I don't need no doctorin'…please just let it be."
"Well, okay, but I think you'd best go back to the jailhouse and lay down a spell."
"Yeah, that's prob'ly all I need," the boy agreed.
As it happened Ethan did fall straight to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. JD grinned and shook his head at the boy who was so tuckered out. Well, he sure would learn his lesson about stealing. He had well over a week's worth of chores to do before he had made restitution for all of his shenanigans.
M7~~~M7~~~ M7~~~M7
A hand gently squeezing his shoulder woke Ethan up more than an hour later. Bleary green eyes blinked and then filled with fear upon seeing the black clad gunman sitting on the edge of the cot.
"Steady there, Ethan. It's just, me. JD had some business to attend to."
"Mr…. Mr. Larabee?"
"That's right. You were sleeping sound. Must of worked hard today. That's good. I'm proud of you, son."
"I'm not your son," Ethan replied quietly.
Chris's eyebrows shot up. The boy had yet to offer such a complaint. JD mentioned that the child had seemed out of sorts earlier this afternoon. The young Sheriff had been worried that the boy might have overworked himself in the heat. Chris found that highly unlikely, but maybe he'd have Nathan take a look just to be sure.
"Well, it's time to get up and wash so we can go have some supper."
"Yes, sir," Ethan answered sitting up quickly and scooting away from the peacekeeper.
Chris studied the boy's freckled face. Something was definitely wrong or at least different. Granted he'd only known Ethan one day, but this skittish lad wasn't the same easygoing child from last night. The gunman wondered what could have happened today.
They met Ezra on their way to the boarding house. "How are you doing this fine evening, Ethan?" the southerner asked, in high spirits at the prospect of winning some money tonight.
"Okay," the boy mumbled. Then, after a hard look from Chris, he added, "Thank you, sir."
"It simply amazes me how much dirt a young man can accumulate in one day. I can scarcely believe you had a bath just last night." Ezra looked the boy up and down. Besides being utterly filthy there was something else that didn't seem quite right.
"I…ah…had ta work hard today."
"Ah, I see," the card player gave a nod, deciding to leave well enough alone for the time being. "Well, perhaps, I shall drop in to see you a bit later. I am headed to the saloon to see if those cowhands would care for a game before dinner."
"Good luck," the boy said with a small smile, his look wistful.
"Luck, has nothing to do with it, I assure you, young man," Ezra replied his gold tooth flashing as he smiled.
"Come, on. Let's get you some food," Chris said, putting an arm around Ethan's small shoulders only to feel the lad tense beneath his touch.
Their numbers were diminished this evening. Vin preferred to sleep out in his wagon or under the stars, but he generally took meals at the boarding house and tonight was no different. Josiah also took meals at the boarding house though he slept at the church. Tonight, however, he'd been invited to share the evening meal with the Potters. Nathan did have a room at the boarding house, though it was not uncommon for him to sleep in the clinic. Tonight the healer was off tending to a broken arm but JD and Buck were at the table.
Ethan devoured the food as if he hadn't eaten a hearty lunch and breakfast, not to mention two cookies for a snack. This brought a smile to the proprietress. Mrs. Bennett was always pleased to welcome another enthusiastic eater at her table. The kindly woman had been more than willing to offer the boy a bed last night and was not in the least bit happy that Mr. Larabee was insisting the child would sleep in the jail tonight. Though, the little waif had stolen a pie right off of her window sill, she'd had no trouble forgiving the adorable mischief maker and really didn't think that making such a young boy sleep in the calaboose was right at all.
After a relatively quiet meal, someone came with a message for Chris and he excused himself telling Buck to take Ethan over to the bathhouse and then meet him at the jail.
"But I already had a bath last night," the boy complained loudly.
"You'll do as your told and offer no argument," Chris responded pinning Ethan with a look that had sent many a grown man running. "Ezra's right. Chores or no I don't know how you managed to get covered in dirt head to toe in just one day."
Ethan thought better of arguing any further and went along sullenly with Buck to the bathhouse. He'd balked however when Buck started to go right in with him to the bathing area.
"What are you? Some sorta Nancy man? I don't want you lookin' at me," the boy insisted.
"I ain't no Nancy man. I like women plenty and they like me even more. Just don't you try runnin' off on me," Buck countered, setting himself just outside where the boy was washing and wondering what had become of the cheerful, cooperative lad from last night. He didn't remember Josiah saying the boy had kicked up a fuss last night over his bath.
Ethan was done in record time, and the two headed back over to the jail where Chris waited with a short white haired man in a wide brimmed cowboy hat.
"Here they are now," Chris said as the two walked in. Buck gave a nod and left the boy with the two men, anxious to get back to a certain beautiful brunette. She had plans to leave town this week and he hoped to enjoy her company to the fullest until that time.
"Ethan, this is Mr. Swanson. In case you don't remember, it was his timepiece you stole. Do you have something you'd like to say to him?"
Ethan looked from the odd little man with the bulbous nose to the blond gunslinger and sighed. He seriously doubted that Chris wanted to hear that the man had been targeted for his unkind treatment of a stray dog. "Sorry," he mumbled, avoiding the angry glare Chris sent his way at his less than stellar response.
"Not only is this timepiece made of solid gold, young man, but it is a family heirloom and very precious to me. I doubt a guttersnipe like yourself could possibly appreciate the fact but it was handed down to me from my father who got it from his father."
"And now you have it back," the child answered sharply.
"He hardly seems remorseful to me," Mr. Swanson said, turning to Chris. "Possibly you were you were wrong. Seems to me maybe some time in a workhouse might help his attitude some."
With two quick steps Chris was at Ethan's side and brought his hand down hard and fast in rapid succession on the boy's rear drawing a surprised yelp from the child. "I know you've worked hard today and you might be worn out but you'll offer this man a proper apology or I'll be taking off my belt."
Ethan turned wide eyes from Chris to the white-haired Mr. Swanson. "I am sorry, sir, for taking your timepiece and for being disrespectful just now." Given a little nudge from Chris he continued, "I will be happy to do anything I can to make it up to you." Though his face betrayed no emotion, Chris was rather surprised by the well-spoken response with only the slightest hint of a southern drawl. It seemed the lad had been schooled a bit in the proper use of English at some point in his young life.
"Can't say as I really want a little mudsill around my place," the man said, his eyes narrowing, "Still it makes sense having him work off his debt locally, rather than go off elsewhere for penance. Is Mr. Sanchez still working on fixing up the church?"
"He is."
Mr. Swanson nodded. "Fine then, the boy can make restitution for his crime by serving in the Lord's work."
"I'll see that he does," Chris replied tersely giving a nod of dismissal to the odd little man who seemed to take the hint and quickly made his exit without further comment.
As soon as the man was gone, Chris took a firm hold of the boy at his side and bent him over his hip landing about a dozen painful smacks to the seat of his trousers. "I don't know what you're playing at," the gunman stated grimly, "But you damn near bought yourself more trouble than you need."
Standing, the child rubbed at his backside with both hands, tears running down his face. "I, I, I'm sorry," he stuttered. "He just made me mad."
"Well, in your position that's not an emotion you can indulge, little boy," Chris warned his tone slightly more gentle.
"Yes, sir," the boy sniffed, rubbing his arm across his face to dry his tears.
Chris reached out to ruffle the boy's curly mop. Ethan stiffened somewhat, but relaxed after a moment, just barely leaning into the gunman for a quick moment of comfort. The peacekeeper responded by putting an arm around the lad and running a soothing hand across his shoulders.
"Might be best if you call it an early night," Chris suggested. "I think all this excitement and a hard day's work has taken its toll on your attitude and I don't think you want your backside getting anymore attention tonight."
"That's for sure," Ethan agreed wryly, rubbing at his posterior again.
TBC...