Chuck Miller sat at a crowded table sipping his coffee casually as he watched for his target. Around him, the din of noise rose and fell. Low murmurs of conversation, metal forks scratching against metal plates. Chairs scrapping the floors, all the while the wind and rain howled with the thunder outside. He ignored it all and focused on what he was there for…revenge.
It'd been nearly a month since he'd lost Tom. It'd taken two days for the news of Tom's death to reach him and by the time he'd reached Bainbridge, his brother had been buried, his reputation ruined, labeled as an outlaw.
Anger fueled Chuck's grief, driving him out of town before anyone there recognized him or lumped him in with his brother's crimes. Not that he hadn't been involved. They had always been a team. Tom's job protected them from suspicion while Chuck kept a low profile in nearby townships. Chuck had just borrowed his mother's maiden name so that they weren't immediately connected. It'd always worked perfectly for them, especially when he was hiding in Four Corners during this last job.
Their plan. It would have worked if not for that damned tight lipped southerner and his fellow peacekeepers. Now it was time to have some fun with the bastard before he tore him apart.
Chuck knew he looked a lot like his older brother. When they'd been little, folks had often mistaken them for twins despite the three year age difference. It was one of the reasons he'd had to clear out of Bainbridge as soon as he'd found out Tom had been buried already. Sticking around would have raised questions once people really took the time to look at him.
He saw movement at the top of the saloon's staircase and smiled behind his mug. There he was.
Chuck felt like a hunter watching his prey. He enjoyed seeing the stiffness visible as Standish slowly descended the stairs. He could see the shadows under those green eyes and for a moment he even caught a glimpse of the man's insecurity. Ezra Standish had not yet recovered from his attack, Miller could see that plain as day and he intended to use every weakness against the man.
It didn't matter to him that Vin Tanner was the man who'd actually pulled the trigger. All that mattered to Chuck was that Standish had been at the center of it all. The defiant, arrogant bastard could have just handed over the land deed and walked away but he hadn't and now Chuck intended to make the man pay dearly for his choice.
He watched Standish settle in at the table, greeting his fellow peacekeepers and accepting the measly meal offered by the pretty barmaid. The Southerner was skittish as a wild mustang about to be saddled. It surprised Chuck a bit that none of the men presumably close to the gambler seemed to notice the man's unease.
Miller looked up at the entrance of Larabee and Tanner watching carefully as both scanned the room's occupants and then headed for the same table as the others. Neither man seemed to notice him. Then again, he was an expert at blending in to his surroundings. Tom had always been the attention seeker, ready and willing to thrust himself into the public eye. Chuck continued to remain content behind the scenes and because of that, he knew now, that his plan to bring down Standish and Tanner would work perfectly.
Thunder rolled outside, shaking the building as Chuck slowly lowered his mug of coffee. He tipped his hat back from his face, allowing his features to be visible even in the saloon's pale light, and fixed his stare on Standish. He knew it wouldn't take long and was rewarded not two minutes later when Standish's wide green eyes met his.
Chuck tipped his head to the side and grinned, knowing that his smile was a mirror of his brother's. His grin broadened as the color melted out of the gambler's face and his hands visibly trembled.
Waiting only a second more, Chuck ducked his head and moved swiftly out of his seat, sliding behind a group of three men who'd just stood up to leave. He kept himself well hidden as the men at Standish's table began to react and was outside before any of them caught sight of him. It had begun.
"Ezra," Vin leaned close to Standish. "Wyler's dead."
Ezra shook his head, his gaze still fixed across the room. "He's there." He started to point, but his hand shook so badly he grasped at the table in a frantic effort to still it.
As a group, they heard his derringer rig engage.
Josiah was fast, grabbing Ezra's wrist before the southerner had an opportunity to raise his weapon. Buck gently pried the gun from Ezra's white knuckled grip. "He's not here, Hoss."
Chris was looking across the room, but the crowd of strangers showed no sign of anyone even resembling Tom Wyler.
"Ezra."
It must have been his tone because Standish suddenly inhaled sharply. His eyes danced frantically around the room before briefly meeting Chris'.
"Tom Wyler's dead," Larabee calmly repeated Vin's earlier statement.
Standish shivered once before pulling his mask of control back into place. "Of course, gentle men." He pulled away from Josiah and took his derringer from Buck, slipping it into his pocket as he rose from the table. "My apologies."
He was to the door before any of the men at the table recovered enough to follow. Vin was first to move, waving the others to stay. "Let me talk to him."
He found Ezra just outside the saloon, standing on the walkway looking lost. Rain water poured off the overhang, creating a roaring curtain of water.
"Do you think I'm addled?" Ezra's voice was low and fearful.
Vin grinned. "No more than any other day."
Ezra huffed a laugh, smiling weakly as Tanner hoped he would. "I swear he was just sitting there, grinning at me over a cup of coffee."
Vin didn't say anything for a moment. Maybe he should have let Josiah handle this and yet…he'd seen the shadows in Ezra's eyes. He knew that underneath the usual act of confidence, Standish had not moved past what had happened back in Bainbridge. "Having nightmares?"
Ezra looked away, reaching out and letting the cascade of water run over his hand.
Tanner watched the water coat pale, shaking fingers. "They'll fade," he said finally.
"Promise?"
The vulnerability of Ezra's whispered plea tore at Vin, revealing just how much Standish was hiding. Before Vin could answer they heard a shout and both men looked up to see JD splashing through the rain and running across the muddy street.
"Did y'all hear?" he asked, splashing them both as he jumped through the runoff and shook himself off.
"Hear what?" Tanner wiped the water JD had splashed from his face.
"One of the new settlers lost their place to fire last night." JD gasped out the words excited by the latest activity.
"In this?" Ezra questioned motioning to the downpour.
"Lightning hit?" Vin proposed.
JD shook his head, sending rain water spraying again. Both Tanner and Standish stepped back but couldn't avoid another shower. "They don't know yet. Only had the framing for the home up so far. They might have lost the whole lot if the rain hadn't come."
JD looked from one to the other. "Everything okay here?" he asked suspiciously.
"Well enough, Mr. Dunne."
JD seemed to take Ezra's response at his word, nodding once. "Chris inside?"
"Yup." Vin nodded.
"Gonna tell him about the fire and get something to eat. Dang, I'm cold."
Dunne was still talking as he entered the saloon, leaving Ezra and Vin alone again. Ezra shifted uncomfortably under Vin's intense gaze.
"I assure you, I am fine."
Vin held up a hand, cutting off Ezra's statement. "You decide you need someone to listen, you know where to find me." He patted Ezra's arm lightly and followed JD back into the saloon.
TBC...