ON YOUR HORSES, BOYS
Part 2
Chris, Buck and Vin stabled their horses and headed for the saloon. It hadn't been a particularly long ride back to town, but it had been a hot, dusty one. Since they needed to check on Ezra anyway, a couple of beers seemed the perfect remedy for the heat. Letting their eyes adjust to the building's darker interior, they walked to where Josiah and JD sat eating a late lunch and pulled up chairs to join them.
Josiah motioned for the barkeep to bring over three more beers and shoveled another spoon of beans into his mouth. "I take it you were able to send Hank on his way," he said around a piece of bread.
Chris nodded as he pulled his hat off and laid it on the table. "Yeah, he's headed to Mexico. There been any trouble here?"
"Nah," JD answered, "everything's been real quiet since Ezra gave the Nichols directions to your place."
"I heard," Chris said and helped the barkeeper distribute the drinks he'd delivered to the table. "He bought us enough time to put Hank in the road without being spotted. I should probably thank him."
He watched Josiah half-heartedly wipe at his mouth and sip his drink before the preacher craned his neck around to look at the doorway.
"Somethin' goin' on I should be worried about?"
"Not likely, we just haven't seen Ezra or Nate in a while. They probably just got busy with some of the town folk while they were checkin' for Mrs. Nichols and her boys. That family has ruffled some feathers around here. I think everyone'll be glad to finally see the back side of 'em."
"You'll get no argument there. They'll probably be back soon though from that little detour Ezra sent them on, so we'd best discuss what our next move is gonna be."
"Why don't we just load 'em up in that fancy coach of theirs, lock the door and point the horses in the direction of Kansas City," JD suggested.
Vin set his beer back on the table. "Have you boys checked that coach out yet?"
"What dya mean?"
"I nosed around a little after they got here, that thing's armored. I imagine it could take most anything we throw at it."
"Armored?" asked Chris.
"Yeah, ain't never seen anything like it. It's like a fortress on wheels. I reckon they've found it real useful for wreakin' havoc on folks."
"Damn, then it'd be a good idea to keep them away from that thing if they try to make a run for it. JD, that's your job. You see anything funny going on with that buggy, you give us a holler."
JD smiled his agreement and took another bite of his lunch.
M7M7M7M7M7M7M7
Nathan staggered forward, one foot in front of the other, or as near to it as he could get. He felt like he'd been used as a punching bag, but the hits to his head and ribs weren't what had knocked the wind out of him; it was the look in Ezra's eyes when the Nichols separated him from the healer and then leaned over to whisper in his ear. He'd give anything to know what they'd said, what they'd threatened him with, because Ezra went as pale as he'd ever seen the man.
Jackson knew he'd been released because the matriarch of the family had ordered it. She had evidently felt obliged to him since he'd doctored her son's arm, but she also had a second more dangerous reason – to have him fetch one Chris Larabee. She had pieced together that Nathan was one of the seven men who protected the town but she wasn't interested in him, she wanted the man directly responsible for the disappearance of her son's killer. She already had the man guilty of distracting her henchmen so her prey could escape and that meant Ezra was now in the worst possible position of the entire group. He had to get to Chris and he had to do it quickly.
He stumbled across the street, bumping into a passerby a time or two, but eventually made it to the relative protection of the saloon. It was Vin who first spotted him as he hung to the batwing door and literally swung himself inside the dark room. Tanner caught him just as he dropped to the floor.
Nathan tried to catch his breath as he leaned against the sharpshooter. Once he could speak, the first words out of his mouth were, "They've got Ezra."
"What?" Vin asked.
"The Nichols, they're holed up at the hotel and they've got Ezra."
Chris took one of Nathan's arms as Vin pulled him off the floor. Once they had him in a chair, they gathered round to check him out.
"They did this?" Larabee asked as he took Jackson by the chin and examined his face.
"Don't matter none, they're gonna do worse to Ezra if we don't get him outta there." He swatted at the hand on his face and tried to stand.
"Whoa there," warned Vin, "just take a second and tell us what happened."
Nathan settled in the chair and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. "I was walkin' this side of town when I saw Ezra checkin' out the hotel. I was gonna meet up with him but two of the gang grabbed me and decided I needed a few bruises. It was all for Ezra's benefit 'cause they went after him straight away and cornered him in the alley. He could've gotten away, but when he saw me he gave himself up."
Josiah rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"They forced us both into the hotel kitchen and started asking him where you and Hank were." He looked up at Chris. "They know he meant to trick 'em."
"Yeah, that wasn't hard to figure," the gunfighter answered, rubbing his hands together.
"Chris, we gotta do somethin'. They're gonna hurt him bad if we don't get him outta there. They've already hurt him and he knows…"
"Knows what?"
"The look he gave me when I left him… I couldn't hear what they were sayin' but I think they were givin' him vivid details of what they planned to do to him. He tried not to show it but he was scared, Chris. We gotta get to him." He straightened himself and rose off the chair. "I ain't leavin' him over there to die."
"No one's gonna let Ezra die. We just gotta think on how to get him back, what to do next," Buck said as he paced the small area near the door.
"We try to talk 'em outta hurtin' Ezra, that's what we do next," the healer answered.
Chris took the healer by the arm. "I know you, Nathan, you already tried that. Did it do any good while you were over there?"
Nathan thought back on his pleas to let the gambler go; no one had paid any attention. "No," he finally admitted.
"Then we come up with another way."
Jackson looked around the saloon. The five lawmen were present, but the person in the middle of the whole controversy was missing. "Where's Hank?"
"Halfway to Mexico by now."
"Mexico?"
"We figured it was best for him to head south."
"I hope it was the best for Ezra," Nathan replied. "That family ain't in no mood for excuses as to why we can't hand Hank over to 'em."
Chris folded his arms across his chest. "Damn, why'd that old man have to lead that bunch here?"
"I reckon he was scared and lookin' for someone he knew would help him," Vin said.
"Yeah, well I almost didn't. Now Ezra's hurt because I did. That old man better ride hard because if it comes down to him or Ezra…"
"Uh, Chris," Buck said, motioning to the back of the saloon.
There in the shadows stood the last person Larabee ever expected to see -- Hank Connelly, a gun raised on display in his hand.
The gunfighter couldn't believe it. "Hank? What the hell are you doin' back here?"
"I shot him, Chris Larabee. I shot the man who killed your wife and child." Connelly's eyes were cold and distant.
"What?"
"I passed him on the trail and I killed him. I shot him three times with this gun. You can thank me for the death of the butcher who killed your family."
"What're you sayin'?"
Buck saw it plainly. "Chris, his mind's gone. He ain't right in the head."
It was one of the few times in his life he'd ever hesitated, but Chris couldn't grasp quickly enough what his father-in-law had done.
Wilmington called his friend's name and drew his attention. "Chris, we ain't got time to sort Hank out right now. Best we sit him down in the back while we try to come up with some way of gettin' to Ezra."
Larabee rubbed his eyes and spoke behind his hand. "This day just gets better and better."
"Chris Larabee," a feminine voice could be heard shouting from the street outside the saloon. "Chris Larabee, can you hear me?"
"She's out there, Chris, Mrs. Nichols," Vin announced, standing by the window.
The voice shouted again. "Chris Larabee, send out the man who killed my boy and do it now. We know you're meanin' to protect him but trust me when I say there's nothing you can do to save him."
Chris looked to the back of the saloon as Buck settled Hank in a chair. The old man twisted the knotted kerchief he held in his hands and smiled to himself.
"What dya wanna do?" Tanner asked.
"I reckon we oughtta talk to her, try to convince her Hank's left town."
Vin shook his head.
"Or maybe I'll try the truth and tell her he's sick and needs help."
"You know she ain't gonna buy it."
"Yeah I know, but what else can I do? I have to try something."
Vin nodded. "I'll be right behind ya. Just keep an eye out; they play real dirty."
Chris settled his hand on the gun beneath his serape and walked through the doors of the saloon. In the middle of the street stood Mrs. Nichols, looking confident, righteous and completely in control. Her whole demeanor set him on edge. She was just a little too cocky and it wasn't until he looked towards the building across the street he fully understood why. There between the two white posts marking the hotel's entrance hung the very battered and bloodied body of Ezra Standish.
TBC