The Devil's Destiny---3
Chris saddled Pony and led him from the livery, as the bright morning sunshine drove away some of the weariness he felt. His face bore the fatigue only a restless night tossing in bed can do. Maguire's features invaded his nightmares and he was glad the man was leaving town today. He would be only to glad to see the unsettling presence leave the town that had become home. He rode the horse out of town, nodding as he passed Vin Tanner going into the jail.
Chris figured he was riding for an hour when he first noticed he was being followed. He slowed Pony to a walk and gave the person a chance to catch up, swearing as he recognized the rider coming towards him.
"Good morning, Mr. Larabee."
"What do you want, Maguire," Larabee snapped, angry that this man was following him.
"I just wanted to apologize once more before I left."
"You already did that," he told him, his nerve endings tingling as he gazed into the dead eyes before him.
"I know but I still feel bad. It's such a hot day and I thought you would accept this as a peace offering," Maguire smiled as he pulled a bottle from his saddlebag.
Larabee took the expensive bottle, his uneasiness with this man still wreaked havoc on his senses and he angrily tossed the bottle to the ground. "Look, Maguire, I haven't hidden the fact that I don't trust you and about the only thing I want from you is to see your back as it rides away from Four Corners," he spat. He quickly turned away from the man and hurried away.
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Maguire watched the retreating figure dressed in black, an evil grin forming on his face. He dismounted and picked up the intact bottle and slid it back into his saddlebag. "Oh, Chris, you are worthy and soon I'll be able to show you just what you mean to me," he whispered. His eyes continued to follow his intended victim until he disappeared around the bend. His admiration for the hostile gunslinger could be read openly on his face as he mounted his horse and rode away.
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Chris continued patrolling the area north of town for several hours. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he finished the final search of the area. His parched throat told him it was time for something with more of a kick than water and he headed back towards town.
Maguire rode north until he spotted the familiar copse of trees. He found this cave some time ago. He was using it as a base when he wasn't searching for someone to help him fulfill his destiny. As he dismounted in front of the hidden dwelling, he thought of how perfect Larabee would be. He pushed away the rocks and brush he used to cover the entrance and strode purposefully inside. Just inside the door he found a lantern and lit it before going deeper into the cavern.
The tunnel leading to the main chamber had a low ceiling and the salesman was forced to duck in places to keep from hitting his head. He smiled as he entered the thirty by forty foot chamber. The supplies he laid in over the past few months were untouched and he knew things were ready. All he needed was to bring the gunslinger and show him the art of meeting one's destiny.
Maguire moved to a small trunk and pulled out a small black and white photo. "See, father, I do have what it takes." He lovingly caressed the picture, his eyes misting with tears. "I warned you not to hurt me, but you wouldn't listen. Now you're burning in hell and I'm the one who put you there." He threw the picture across the room, watching as the paper fluttered slowly to the ground. "I'm so much stronger than you ever were, you bastard," he swore as he turned and hurried from the chamber.
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"Hey, Chris," Dunne called as Larabee rode back into town.
The gunslinger pulled Pony to a stop in front of the livery and dismounted. "JD," he greeted. "Everything okay?"
"Everything's fine," the youth answered, following Larabee into the livery.
"Where's everyone?"
"Over at the saloon," the easterner answered as the older man passed Pony's reins to Yosemite.
"Sounds like the perfect place to be." The parched man strode away from the livery and hurried across the street.
He entered the dull interior and quickly found the other five men he called friends. The tracker was seated off to himself with two empty glasses on the table before him. Larabee grinned as Tanner poured a shot of whiskey in each glass.
He slid into the vacant chair and picked up the silent offering. "Thanks," he sighed gratefully and swallowed the fiery liquid.
"Any problems?" Tanner asked.
"Ran into Maguire."
Tanner's eyes shot up imperceptibly. "What did he want?"
"Wanted to apologize and offered me a bottle of expensive whiskey."
"What'd ya do with it?"
Larabee helped himself to a second shot and slugged it back. "Threw it on the ground and told him to leave," he finally answered.
Tanner's head bobbed once in understanding. "Ez and the kid saw him headed south a little 'fore noon today." He knew his friend would shake off the feelings of uneasiness now that Maguire was out of the picture.
"Must've came back here right after I met up with him."
"Reckon."
The two men lapsed into companionable silence. Neither man needed to talk to get their feelings across. They knew the important things could be said with the toss of a head or a simple hand gesture. The conversations in the room carried back to them and they sighed contentedly.
"I'm going to miss the stunning conversations between myself and Mr. Maguire," Standish observed as he dealt the ever present deck of cards.
"Don't we give you stunning conversations, Ezra?" Dunne asked.
"I assure you, Mr. Dunne, our conversations are more than stunning," Standish smiled at the younger man.
"Did you guys buy anything from Maguire?" Jackson asked.
"I bought one of those hair combs for Casey."
"The silver one?"
"No, Buck, Maguire said it's called a comb and just sits in her hair."
"What's the good in that?" Wilmington asked.
"It's supposed to look nice," the sheriff explained.
"Thought you liked Casey as she was?" the ladies man teased.
"Buck, it's a gift. You know something you give to a lady to show her you appreciate her," Dunne explained.
The moustached man smiled and arched his eyebrows knowingly. "JD, there are gifts and then there are gifts," he grinned mischievously.
"Buck, you always say that," the kid huffed.
"You'll learn all about the finer art of gift giving as you get older," Wilmington laughed as the younger man got up to leave. "Go ahead and give her the comb. I'm sure she'll appreciate it more than the frog digger."
"You were a bit rough on him, Brother," Sanchez observed.
"The kid has to learn it ain't about giving things. At least not those kind of things."
"Buck, that kid could probably show you a thing or two about gifts for ladies," Jackson told him.
"Well, I gotta go give Miss Blossom a real gift," Wilmington laughed and left the others alone in the saloon.
"He'll never learn," Larabee muttered, leaning his chair back against the wall, relaxing for the first time since Maguire showed up in town.
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"Headin' out?" Tanner asked a week later. The town was quiet except for a couple of trail hands who now resided in jail until they sobered up.
Larabee turned as the tracker came into the livery. "Yeah, figure I'll go check on the repairs we made to the barn. See how they held up in the storm yesterday."
"Ya comin' back tonight?"
"Probably not. I'll do a patrol of the area along the way and spend a couple of days at my place. I'll see you in a few days."
"Alright." The sharpshooter watched as his friend left town before turning towards the saloon.
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Chris dismounted and unsaddled Pony. His patrol of the area was quiet and he relaxed as he released the beautiful animal into the corral. He picked up his saddlebags and headed for the small house he now called home. He opened the door and walked into the dull interior, depositing the saddlebags on the table. He looked at the bottle of whiskey on the mantle and sighed. He picked up the bottle, poured himself a small shot and downed it. Sighing in contentment as he placed the bottle on the table.
The sun was just beginning its downward journey and he moved back outside to check the barn. He examined the repairs, smiling as he noted they held up nicely during the storm. His gaze fell on the borrowed wagon. 'Guess I'll return that tomorrow,' he thought, shaking his head as his vision blurred slightly.
He moved to the small corral and picked up the brush. He used it to give the horse a good rubdown, before making sure the animal had plenty of feed and water. Again he shook his head to ward off the dizziness building there. "What the hell..." he muttered tiredly. He walked out of the corral and made his way towards the house. He barely made it to the front door and grabbed the porch rail as his vision blurred once more. He turned at the sound of footsteps, his hands moving towards his gun as he recognized the shape standing before him. His arms felt leaden as he tried to pull the colt from the holster.
"What the hell did you d...do?" he snarled as he felt himself losing his tenuous hold on consciousness. He fell heavily to the ground, his head impacting with the edge of the railing. He felt a sharp pain on the right side of his head.
Maguire reached for the semi conscious man, an evil grin on his face. He ignored the tiny trickle of blood from the wound as he spoke softly. "I did what I had to do in order to take my destiny."
"S...son of a B...bitch," Larabee swore as he tried to fight the oncoming lethargy washing over his body. He felt Maguire remove his colt from his hand and something was wrapped tightly around his wrists. 'I hate it when I'm right,' was his last thought as darkness overtook the light of day.
Robert Maguire worked quickly to secure the blond's wrists. He grinned as he thought of the hours spent watching the tiny clearing, waiting for this man to return. "Can't have you hurting yourself when I can do a much better job of it," he grunted as he bound the ankles of the unconscious victim. He hurriedly hitched his horse to the wagon and turned back to the gunslinger, easily lifting him inside. As a precaution he gagged and blindfolded the gunslinger, patting his shoulder gently before speaking. "Destiny is a wonderful thing as you'll soon find out."
The salesman jumped down from the wagon and hurried into the cabin to get some supplies. He took blankets, coffee and the bottle of whiskey, realizing he'd need the drug. The blond captive would be rousing before they got to the cave. He hurried back outside and covered Larabee with one of the blankets. Darkness was quickly descending as he rode away from his prisoner's home. He knew the route by heart and couldn't take the chance one of Larabee's men would discover them as he aimed the wagon towards the cavern so far away.
TBC