Hold On Mr. Larabee
Disclaimer: The Magnificent Seven and characters are the property of MGM Television, The Mirsch Corporation, Trilogy Entertainment Group and CBS. No profit has been made off of this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 5
The popping of the fire brought Buck out of his light doze, looking toward the cot he could see the gunslinger was still sleeping; the blankets wrapped tightly about him. Yawning widely the ladies man stretched and rose from the comfortable chair. Sniffing the air he could detect some yummy smells coming from the direction of the kitchen. His stomach growled loudly and he gave it a consoling pat.
He looked up as the kitchen door swung open and light spilled into the parlor, the sharpshooter's silhouette preceded him. "He sleeping?" Vin asked the ladies man as he moved to look out a window. Darkness had settled in, making it near impossible to see any movement outside.
"Yup, plum tuckered out. What'cha making for supper?" Buck asked quietly, as he bent over to place another log on the fire.
Moving to the next window, Vin chuckled as he peered through the curtains, "Ezra's making supper, swears he can't stomach trail grub another day. Have to say, I was mighty surprised to find out he even had a notion of what a larder was, leastways know his way round it."
"Well Ol' Ezra's been known to pull an Ace from the deck when he needs it. Just hope it's eatable, ah edible." Buck grinned and grabbed up his coat, "I'm gonna check around outside, it's just been too quiet for my taste. Don't want to get caught with our trousers round our ankles."
Vin sank down into the chair Buck had recently occupied, "I'll keep your seat warm, be careful out there."
"Thanks, I'll be wanting that seat back when I return." Buck grinned as he slipped out into the night. Pulling the door closed behind himself, he looked out into the yard scowling. There was no moon tonight, someone could be standing just a few feet from him and he wouldn't even know it. A cold breeze ruffled his hair and sent the barn door to slapping again. Stupid door, he thought to himself, he was going to have to brace it closed with something. Walking cautiously along the side of the house he strained to see along the ridge line. Nothing. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he secretly wished something would happen, just to give him satisfaction for the uneasiness he felt deep down inside.
"Reach for the sky!" a rough voice hissed to Buck's left as cold iron pressed up on his chin. Buck's heart stuttered to a stop, "You and your friends just don't know when to back down. Is your life really worth a few mangy horses?" Son of a bitch, it was the Peters.
Buck reluctantly raised his hands as the gun pushed harder into his unprotected throat; causing tears to spring to his eyes. Buck could feel an arm snake around his waist, relieving him of his knife and gun. The ladies man was mentally kicking himself six ways to Sunday; he should have known things were too quiet and going too easy. To call out now would mean certain death for Vin and the others. "Why are you still hanging around? You know you'll get hanged for being the low-bellied horse thieves that you are."
Buck's hands were suddenly yanked viciously behind his back and something rank was stuffed into his mouth. He tried not to gag on the disgusting cloth but his stomach was trying to voice its protest. He moaned as bile moved up his throat, somehow he managed to choke it back down.
"You upchuck and you'll drown in it." Another voice snarled as a dirty hand yanked his head back by his hair. He felt a blade pressed to his throat as a face came into view, Dick Peters. He should have known, these two were vicious and were obviously trying to make a name for themselves.
"Frank, grab that rope and come on, were gonna string us up a peacekeeper, then were gonna get his friends. We'll have ourselves a real party." Dick shoved his gun in Buck's back and pushed him toward the barn.
Buck groaned in pain as Dick jabbed him in the back again and pushed him toward the barn. Stumbling, Buck hoped to trip up Dick Peters, but only succeeded in jamming his shoulder into the ground.
Frank viciously kicked Buck in the back, "Get up you piece of rubbish. I ain't carrying you. Crawl if you got to." He kicked the ladies man again, when he didn't get up fast enough for his satisfaction.
Buck managed to get to his feet back under him and shot a glare at Frank Peters. Stumbling forward he felt the gun in his back once more. Buck prayed for some type of intervention, but figured he was going to have to hope for a rescue. The Peters were gonna hang him up like a trussed up goose for Christmas supper.
~o~
Vin stared into the crackling fire, listening as the wind sent the bushes beating against the outside walls. He shivered against a draft that snuck in through a nearby window; Buck had to be freezing by now. Rising from the chair he made his way back to the warmth of the kitchen. "How's it coming? I'm plum starved out here and Buck's gonna be crying when he comes back in from the cold." Vin grinned at the flour speckled gambler, though he'd found an apron, he'd still managed to get it on his trousers.
Giving the tracker a harassed look, the gambler swiped at his cheek, leaving a swath of flour behind, "Supper will be ready when it's ready. You can not rush perfection, Mr. Tanner. My biscuits need to fluff a little before I subject them to the fire. When they are finished, I have located a crock of butter and some honey. These biscuits will just melt in your mouth and leave you panting for more."
Vin stood there listening to Ezra's description, his mouth hanging open and his belly growling its displeasure. Suddenly snapping back to himself, the sharpshooter moaned, "Thanks, Ez. If I was starving before, now I'm dying." Ezra just grinned back. Vin slapped the table, "You keep an ear for Chris, I'm gonna go find Buck. He's dilly dallying outside somewhere. I'm holding you to those biscuits with butter and honey."
Ezra stood there with his hands on his hips, "Here I am slaving over a decent meal and now you task me with attending to our petulant leader?"
"Ez," Vin sighed as he clapped his hat down on his head, "He's sleeping, he's not gonna bite you. In fact, he hasn't moved a muscle since we bundled him on the cot. I wouldn't worry on it, just keep an ear out."
"Fine, Mr. Tanner, I will do as you request, but you best not tarry, or you may have to fore go your biscuits." Ezra complained as he slid the biscuits into the stove.
"No, I won't. Be back quicker than three swipes of a lamb's tail." Vin vowed and pulled the kitchen door open, exiting the house quickly as the cold wind buffeted him in the face he could hear Ezra squawking behind him. Yanking the door shut, he hopped down the stairs and out into the yard. Looking to his left and right he heard nothing, squinting into the darkness he couldn't make out any shapes that resembled the ladies man. Buck, where are you? He thought to himself as he moved quietly along the house.
A clang from the direction of the barn had Vin creeping toward the dark building. He hoped it was just Buck knocking something over; he really wanted those biscuits Ezra was baking up. As he neared the doors he heard something that sounded like a muffled grunt and flesh striking flesh. Pulling his mare's leg free he moved closer to the door and tried to peer inside. "Too dark." He hissed in exasperation. Pulling the doors open just enough to slip through, he stepped inside.
"Welcome to the party." A voice hissed behind him and then Vin saw a flash of light.