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Rustlers
by
Heather

Chris Larabee breezed through the bat wing doors of the saloon.  His black duster billowing behind him
giving the gunslinger a surreal appearance.  He quickly surveyed the area and headed for the round table his other five compatriots occupied.  Buck and Vin could be heard chuckling over the din of the other patrons.  JD hung his head probably  the target of another verbal jab, Chris mused as he smoothly closed the distance to the table.  Josiah and Nathan sat facing the doors and noticed their leader enter. “Hey Chris.”  Nathan said as Larabee drew closer.  The gunslinger slid a chair over and joined the others.  He nodded to the others in greeting, and poured himself a shot of red eye.  “I've finally got a response from Judge Travis. He's sending over someone to help out with the cattle problems.”  Chris leaned back in his chair and tossed back the fiery liquid.  Over two weeks ago, cattle rustlers had been hitting the territory hard.  It seemed the seven always showed up to late, and a step behind at every turn.  They rustlers did not restrict themselves to just the small and struggling homesteaders either, they hit the bigger ranchers as well.  Larabee and his men could not quite get a handle on the rustlers.  Vin couldn't track them, and no one had heard any scuttle rumor floating around the saloons of the nearby towns.  Whoever ran the rustling operations ran a tight ship.   “We know who this savior is suppose to be?”  Josiah asked playing with his hunting knife, slowly gazing up and meeting the ice blue eyes of Larabee.  “Yeah.”  He paused and peered over at an adjacent table.

Ezra Standish sat with his back to his six comrades, enveloped in a game of chance, with four cowhands.
Larabee stared at the deep green jacketed back, that man wears the most colorful clothing Chris mused.  He's a walking target.  In hopes to keep from having to repeat himself Chris spoke over the noise of the others, “Ezra finish up there and get over here.”

The gambler did not turn around, and for all appearances seemed to have ignored the gunman.  Larabee knew better, he witnessed the nearly imperceptible dip of the light brown head in acknowledgment.

A few minutes later a smiling Ezra slid his chair in between Buck and Vin.  “How much you win?”  Buck
asked.  Standish's dimpled smile broaden exposing his upper gold premolar, “Lets just say I'm closer to acquiring my own saloon.”   He paused for a moment pouring himself a drink and then added soberly, “I'd be alot closer if you gentlemen would quit interrupting me.”

“You'd also be alot more dead if we weren't here.”  Nathan added chuckling.  He and Ezra had not hit it off very well in the beginning but after piecing the con man back together a few times, and having been forced to stay in the same room with him during long periods of recovery both men found a common ground and actually came to like each other.    “How true ,how true, Mr. Jackson.”  Standish tipped his hat in direction of the exslave.

“Are you two through?”   Larabee asked, trying to sound annoyed, and pulling it off quite well.  Jackson nodded and Standish in typical fashion raised one questioning eyebrow.   Larabee sighed, things had gone poorly the last few weeks, people were being killed and cattle disappearing.  He, like the others were on edge, Larabee did not like wasting time, “Ok the Judge is sending over Colby, Jason Colby.”  This name meant nothing to the others except Buck.  Wilmington let out a whoop and and slapped his hand on the table.  “I’ll be damned.  Good ole Jay's coming to help us out huh?!”  Chris smiled in return merely nodding his head.  “I take it you and Mr. Larabee know this ‘savior’ and are old acquaintances of this person.”   Standish drawled.  Buck slapped the smaller gambler on the shoulder enthusiastically causing the southerner to spill some of his drink.  “Hell yeah, we rode together for hell what five years Chris?”   Again Larabee smiled and nodded.  It would be good to see his old friend again.

Two hot miserable days broiled by, thankfully things had remained quiet.  The seven found themselves in the saloon by early evening.   Ezra, Buck and J.D. played a friendly game of poker, as friendly as one could get if they did not mind losing to the southerner.   Nathan, Vin, Chris and Josiah shared a quiet beer, each lost in their own thoughts.   The doors to the saloon swung open and a small dirt devil kicked up in front of a tall thin stranger.

Tanner gazed up and noticed the man.  The newcomer stood well over 6 feet, he wore nondescript clothing but his gun rigging hung like a professional.  He glanced across the room with piercing blue eyes that held no emotion.  His eyes fell on the tracker.  Vin immediately labeled him as a dangerous man.  The man approached the bar with a fluid grace and an economy of motion, more than dangerous, deadly.  Tanner did not like him at all.   Suddenly from behind him he heard Buck exclaim, “Hey Jay!! that you!!?”  Wilmington jumped to his feet his card game momentarily forgotten.  The man at the bar turned around and faced Wilmington.  A slow smile creased his lined hollow cheeks.  “Well I’ll be Buck Wilmington, some angry husband hasn't gut shot you yet?”

“Hell no, Ole Buck leaves 'em fast and satisfied.”  Colby smiled at the younger man's brashness.  Some things never changed.  “Where's that lonesome partner of yours Larabee?”  His smiling voice did not match his cold eyes.

“Right behind you.”  Larabee whispered in the man's ear, not more than a few inches from his back.  Colby did not react physically, mentally he berated himself for being so stupid.  “Good way to get yourself killed Larabee.” He stated calmly.

“Funny I was thinking the same thing about you.”  Chris laughed in return.   The two men faced each other and shook hands.

They made room for Colby at the table.  JD and Ezra ended their game and joined the others.  Introductions
were made around the table by Buck, “This here is Nathan Jackson, he's our healer and such.”  Jackson stretched his hand across the table and shook Colby's proffered one.  Nathan smiled, “I'm not really a doctor just interested in healing folks.”  Jason Colby smiled in return and nodded, “hopefully I won't be needing your services.”  Buck continued with the introductions, “Beside him is Josiah Sanchez,” The large expreacher nodded his head in greeting.  “Then Vin Tanner.”  The tracker and Colby's eyes met again, there was no love loss between them.  The hackles on Vin's neck went up.  He held his tongue, but dipped his chin in greeting.  If Colby was a friend of Chris and Buck's then he'd keep his mouth shut and just watch.  Tanner heard Buck speak again, “The kid is JD Dunne, he's the sheriff.”  JD smiled, ecstatic he finally got to meet one of Buck's and Chris' old friends, a rare privilege.  “The colorful one beside him is Ezra Standish, resident gambler.”  Ezra merely tipped his hat in response.  Buck added quickly, “ If you don't want to loose your shirt don't play poker with him.”   Standish stared at the man he had been introduced too, warning bells went off.  Standish made his living reading people.  His mother had taught him well.  He could read a con and a con man like people read labels on bottles.  Colby was dangerous, not to be trusted. He kept his expression level revealing nothing.  Colby was a friend of Larabee's and Wilmington, Ezra realized he held a bum hand, he would observe the newcomer and hope better cards fell his way.  Tanner watched Ezra's expression, of the group Vin found it surprising that it was the conniving gambler that could read people and situations with uncanny ability.  Tanner normally relied only on his own instincts but he found Standish had similar abilities, Ezra just put them to a different use. The tracker spied carefully at the card shark.  No, Ezra did not trust the
man either.

Once introductions had been made and drinks poured, Colby settled back in his chair and addressed the
group.  “So I hear you gentlemen have been having problems with cattle rustlers in these parts.”

Chris nodded and sat forward, “Yeah, and now murder.”

Colby raised his eyebrows, “I had not been informed of that.”

Tanner and Standish both watched the gunslinger, to them he seemed generally surprised, not concerned, however.  “That's new, happened a week ago,” intoned Josiah.  The giant preacher had been troubled by the recent events in the town and felt powerless to stop it.  It was not a feeling he liked or was accustom too, he had every intention of changing it.  “They killed old Rick Parson,” Nathan added disgustedly what a waste of a life,  “ He must have stood up to them.”  Jackson cursed the thieves for their coldheartedness and cruelty.  Parson's could not have been less than 60 years old, just an old man defending his meager herd of thin cattle.

“It seems you boys have your hands full, I hope I can be of help.”

Jason Colby stated watching the seven men around the table.  He could handle Buck and Chris, especially
Buck his blind faith in friendship made him easy to lead on.  Larabee was not quite so blind but still five years of hard riding and playing would not be easily ignored.  The kid, he had heard followed Wilmington around like a puppy, but had a reputation for a steady hand and a cool head in a fight.  If Colby could keep Wilmington in line than the kid should fall into place.  The preacher and healer were more concerned with the rustling and recent killings and they trusted Judge Travis therefore they'd trust Colby up to a fine line.   The gunslinger just had to figure out where that line lay.  The gambler, hell he'd just watch out for himself, the gunslinger knew the breed, Standish only would watch out for number one.  The problem lay in the tracker.  Tanner did not like or better yet trust him.  He was going to be a problem on two fronts.  First, The tracker could barely conceal his distrust of Colby but secondly and more importantly he was Larabee's right hand man.  Dispatching the tracker would prove difficult but necessary.
 
The next week found the seven and their new help ranging the country side, revisiting old sights, trying to
discern any clues or information from the land and people who had been victimized.  The hot grueling days normally ended in disappointment.  Buck, Jay and Chris hung out together at night reliving old times, JD hovered nearby listening intently to the stories.  Nathan busied himself at the clinic only joining the others at the saloon for a social drink.   Josiah spent most of his leisure working on the church and observing Vin Tanner.  Tanner had made himself scarce at night, staying away from Jason and the others.  Ezra, in his typical style, stayed at the gaming tables plying his trade hoping to make his fortune.  They had come up with a plan over the last week on how they would respond to the next report of rustling.  Josiah believed it would worked  and if it did then they'd catch their elusive prey this time.  A smile spread across the preacher's whiskered features it would be nice if this business could be behind them.  He entered the saloon for a much needed drink, gawd it had been way to hot these last few weeks and joined Vin and Ezra for a quiet game of poker.

It was early morning, Jason Colby had been in Four Corners for over two weeks now, and things seemed
quiet.  The seven men ate a hearty breakfast, Colby and Buck needling JD about his misfortune the night before. The youngster had spilled his beer down the front of himself, all in the name of a pretty girl.  Josiah and the others chuckled quietly.  Poor JD never stood a chance when Wilmington had a partner to help egg him on.   Their revelry was interrupted when one of the Potter children burst into the saloon, “They're after Cochrane’s cattle!!”   He need not say anymore.  The seven men jumped to their feet as if they had been stung, breakfast suddenly forgotten and bolted for the door.  Chris yelled to JD “Go wake up Ezra!”

A few minutes later the eight men bolted out of the livery heading for the Cochrane ranch.  Standish brought
up rear trying desperately to get his red coat on while maintaining some semblance of control over his galloping horse.  They rode hard, the animals well conditioned for such action.  The Cochrane ranch was a modest spread of a few hundred acres.  Phillip Cochrane out of desperation had moved his growing herd of a hundred head off his main pastures to somewhat closer to home.  He had them ranging over near the wooded cliffs.  Bluffs actually.  His plan was that if the rustlers were to strike they could only come from one direction if they were to avoid the house and head off in one direction.  His plan had worked up until now.  Now he watched or more precisely heard his future get stampeded away.  He hoped the seven protectors would show up in time.  His dreams fizzled when he could not longer hear the cattle.  An hour or less later the sound of running horses brought him to his porch with his rifle.  It was Larabee and his gang, a fat lot of good they did him now.  “You're to late.”  He said resignation ringing loudly in his voice.

“Where'd they go?”  Larabee was in no mood, he was sick and tired of being a step behind.  Cochrane merely pointed toward the bluffs.  The men spread out their plan may still work.  It had been the habit on occasion for the rustlers to leave men behind to discourage anyone from following them.  Larabee and the others need only catch one of them alive.

Buck and Josiah headed eastward,  Chris and Vin kept heading south straight into the what they presumed
to be the middle of them, and Ezra, JD and Nathan turned westward.   Colby let out a shout as his horse stumbled and he went down in a heap.  Chris reigned his horse up slowing but Jason Colby weakly waved them on, he was ok he'd survive.  The seven men no sooner closed in on their respective locations then the bullets started flying.  Buck and Josiah jumped from their still moving horses hitting the ground behind boulders and firing in what they hoped was the right direction.  J.D.'s hat had been unceremoniously removed from his head as a bullet tore through it.  Standish yanked the kid out of his saddle and momentary shock shoving the youngster behind a tree.  Nathan dove beside them, “You see anyone?”  He breathed trying to control the adrenaline rush.  The threesome peered in front of them guns drawn.  A shot ricocheted off the boulder to their right, they all responded firing in kind.  The bluffs lay immediately to their left.

Ezra did not liked the boxed in feeling.  He could hear Buck and Josiah firing and then heard Vin's mare leg
as well as Larabee's rifle.  Maybe this fool idea would work after all.  JD and Nathan fired alternating as Ezra filled in the gaps.  The con man could make out Vin and Chris through the trees.  Motion far behind the two men grabbed his attention.  He peered anxiously his heart pounding.  He watched only for a second making sure he made no mistake in what he witnessed.  JD and Nathan suddenly became distracted when Standish muttered and then yelled, “Oh my God it's a set up.  He's apart of it.”  Jackson and Dunne stared at the gambler like he had lost his mind.  Ezra was not looking at them however, he kept his eyes on Vin and Chris, someone had to warn them.   “It's a set up!”  He screamed.  Going against all his up bringing, and every instinct rooted in self preservation Ezra Standish stood up from behind the relative safety of cover screaming and waving his guns attracting attention.  “Chris it's an ambush!!! Behind you!! It's a set up!!!”   Standish screamed at the top of his lungs pointing wildly in the direction of Tanner and Larabee.  JD and Nathan followed Ezra's pointing and did not see anything.

Then JD screamed Ezra's name in a blood curdling fashion.  Jackson turned just in time to see Standish take a bullet to the left side of his head snapping his head and body around to the right and back.  He stood for an agonizing few seconds, his light green eyes wide open and unseeing, before disappearing over the edge of the bluffs.  Nathan froze not believing what he just saw.  JD made to get up and go after Standish, or more precisely go to where Standish had once stood.  Jackson clamped down on the youngster's shoulder and forced him down to the ground, wrestling the screaming gunfighter into submission.

The momentum in the gun fight suddenly changed.  Buck and Josiah stared in horror as they watched the
gambler race from cover shouting something.  One second he was standing in the open and the next he disappeared from sight.  Despair had quickly been replaced with hatred, the six men aimed to kill.  No one would leave this encounter alive if they could help it.  The rustlers were not ignorant of the sudden tide change and quickly retreated.

Tanner and Larabee witnessed just enough to see Standish standing in the open apparently yelling something.  “What the hell is he doing?”  Chris had muttered and then his mouth fell open as the con man toppled off the bluff.  Tanner held his breath, hoping he did not see what he thought he witnessed but the hatred and despair that flashed across Larabee's stone features spoke volumes.   They turned and fired in earnest.  No concern for their own safety just with the thought of revenge no matter what the cost.   Eventually however the six realized their murderous prey had slipped away again.

Tanner and Larabee raced through the wooded area, Josiah and Buck on a rapid intercepting course.  The
four men reached the edge of the bluffs as Jackson lay on his belly peering over the edge.  As the other's drew closer they thought they heard Jackson calling to the gambler.  Sanchez felt a twinge of despair Jackson was not taking this well at all, until he peered over the edge along with the others.   “Ezra can you here me?!”  Jackson yelled.

Wilmington breathed a sigh of relief, “My God he is the luckiest son of a bitch alive.”

“He's got more lives than a cat.”  Tanner intoned.  Chris smiled tightly to himself in relief, the crazy gambler always has an ace up his sleeve.  Twenty feet below them on a narrow ledge laying crumpled on his right side was the gambler.  The ledge only spanned six feet long and five feet across.  He lay unmoving oblivious to the world.

“JD get some lariats.”  Chris ordered.  The young sheriff did not need to be told twice.  JD in all his young life had never truly believed in miracles until now.  As he raced to the nearest horses, Buck's gray and Vin's paint, he looked up at the blue sky and whispered, “Thanks momma.”  he pulled the lariats off the saddles wiped tears from his eyes and raced back to Chris and the others.  Vin had his spy glass out, “yup still breathing.”  Buck took the glass and peered down himself, seeing was believing after all.   JD came up breathlessly and handed the ropes to Chris.

Tanner stared Larabee in the eye, “Let me go get him,”  Larabee was about to argue but Vin cut him off, “You'll have an easier time hauling him out if you and Josiah and Buck are on the upper end.   They secured the rope to the nimble tracker.  Vin held the second rope curled in his hand.  Josiah finally laid a hand on Jackson, “You might not want him coming to on that little ledge.”  Nathan realized his potential mistake.

“Ok lets do this.”  Vin said through clenched teeth and stepped off the ledge.

In a few seconds he knelt beside Standish.  Vin quickly checked for a pulse.  Slow and steady . Thank God.
Tanner slipped the loop of the lariat over and around Standish's red coated shoulders.  The movement caused Ezra to groan.  The tracker cinched the rope tight and laid a comforting hand on the sandy brown head, “Hang in there pard’ you're gonna do all right.”  Vin stood and straddled the gambler and tossed the other end of the second rope up to Sanchez.  Nathan peered down, “how is he?”

Vin knelt over Standish again and inspected the bleeding head wound.  His eye had already swelled shut and blood caked his forehead and hair.  Vin gazed back up at the healer, “He's alive.”   Then a small weak voice grabbed his attention.  “Vin?”  Tanner turned his attention back to the gambler, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “You just hang on Ezra we're gonna get you out of here.”  Tanner stood back up and yelled up to the others, “Ok. bring him up.”  Tanner helped guide the unconscious gambler up as the rope tightened and began to lift him from the ledge.

The tracker watched as his friends limp form was jerked up the cliff face, Standish's back scraped occasionally against the rock face but in no time hands grabbed him and easily hauled him back up onto the plateau.

A few seconds later Vin found himself standing next to Buck as they watched Nathan and Josiah work on
the gambler.  They were brought out of their respective musings when Chris finally asked, “What the hell was he doing?” No one answered at first, then JD spoke up having a hard time pulling his eyes from Standish, “I don't know he just started yelling that it was a set up, or an ambush or something.”  JD paused trying to remember, he could not believe Ezra was still alive.  Sanchez seemed to read his mind and peered up from what he was doing and added, “Don't question a miracle, son. They're the few things you can take on face value.”

Dunne nodded silently and the something clicked.  He quickly peered up at Chris, “ He said something like, ‘my god he's a part of it.’ or something like that.”

Larabee stared at the youngster his eyes narrowing, the implications not missed on the older gunslinger, “Are you sure.”

“I'm not a 100% of his exact words but he saw someone behind you and Vin and recognized him”  JD stopped for a second and then added, “next thing Nathan and I know he's standing out here yelling to you two and waving his arms. Then he went over the edge.”

Chris and Vin stared at each other for a second.  Neither one had realized someone was coming up from behind them. “I’ll go check it out.”

Buck knelt beside Josiah at Ezra's head.  Jackson had the head wound cleaned and bandaged.  Nathan
finally spoke, “Right shoulder's dislocated.”  he gazed at the two men before him, they were a force to reckon with, and stated simply, “We need to reduce it.”  Josiah and Buck nodded, they had done this once before, unfortunately for Standish he had been conscious and had done everything he could think of to discourage Josiah and Nathan from fixing it right away.  He almost succeeded until Buck had grabbed him from behind pinning him and allowing Nathan and Josiah to grate the shoulder back into place.  It must have hurt like hell, because to keep from screaming out Ezra bit down on Buck's forearm and even through the coat Wilmington sported a bruise for a week.  Now however Standish did not fight it and with simple manipulation and a little force the shoulder slipped roughly back into place.

Wilmington winced at the sound of bone on bone.

JD gathered up the horses and brought them closer to the group.   Vin jogged back, “Sure was someone
back there, judging from the tracks they were creeping up behind us on their toes, hunched down probably about Buck's height, maybe a little lighter.”  Tanner said, describing what he could discern from the tracks.  Larabee silently nodded.  Anger seethed through his pores.   Nathan and Josiah finally straightened out. Jackson faced the group, “I've done all I can for  him here, we need to get him back to town.”

“He gonna be all right?”  JD asked.  He still could not believe what he had witnessed today.

Jackson sighed wearily, “Definite concussion, maybe worse I can't tell, he's got some broken ribs on the right side maybe three or four, we fixed his shoulder, but I'm not sure about his hip I don't think it's broken though probably just bruised.  His ankle will have to wait I don't want take his boot off right now.”  Jackson packed the rest of his supplies into his saddle bags.  “we're going to have to travel slow, so not to jostle him to much.”

A few minutes later Buck wrapped a supportive arm gingerly around Standish's tightly wrapped chest and
leaned the gambler back against himself.  “You got him?”  Josiah asked before he stepped away.  Buck positioned Standish's bandaged head against his shoulder, then gathered up his reins and nodded to Sanchez, “Yeah I think we're o.k.”  Chris led the way, followed by Vin then Buck ,Nathan, JD and Josiah who ponied Chaucer.  As they passed Cochrane’s house, Phil came out still brandishing his rifle.  He held his tongue when he noticed the deadly glare in Larabee's iced eyes.  He spotted Wilmington riding double with the gambler, maybe the seven finally met their match he mused silently.  As Larabee led his horse by, Cochrane finally found his voice, “We have your other man, a little banged up but he should be good as new in a few days.  The Mrs. says he can stay here 'til he's feeling better.”  The seven moved on silently, Josiah uttering thank you to Cochrane.

Once out of the woods and back in the grassy plains, the horses lost the single file line.  Vin rode beside
Chris neither man speaking.  Jackson rode next to Buck taking worried glances at his patient.  Jd hovered back with Josiah and would then ride ahead to look on Standish and fall back with the preacher.  Josiah watched the young man with some amusement.  JD was not afraid to do what all the others wanted to do, continually make sure Standish really did beat death.  Ezra had pulled the proverbial trump card out and won a near impossible gamble.  Damn how's he do that, Josiah wondered.

They had ridden for nearly an hour and still they were a few miles from town.  Buck was brought out of his
own thoughts when he heard Ezra moan.  Then the gambler moved his head and left arm, groaning louder.  “Whoa, hold on Ezra you're all right.” Buck soothed.  He tightened his grip on Standish afraid the gambler might start fighting him.  Standish's head bobbed back and forth as he tried to lift it off Buck's shoulder.

“You doing o.k. Pard’?”

Wilmington asked trying to peer at Standish's face.   Then very faintly, “Buck?”

“Yeah Pard'.  You in there?”  Buck smiled this had to be a good sign.  He glanced over at Nathan who had heard the exchange and the healer merely shrugged.  Then in a slightly more urgent tone, but very weakly Ezra muttered , “I'm gonna be sick.”

“No wait a sec...”  Buck only had time to start pulling up on the reins when Standish's body threw itself into the violent contractions of retching.  He nearly threw them both to the ground as his stomach explosively emptied itself.

It was all Buck could do to hold onto the gambler and keep him from falling and hold his horse in check.  The
immediate area was suddenly filled with the sounds of vomiting.  Jackson stopped beside them “Hold on the Ezra you're doing o.k.  Just ride it out.”  To vomit with head wound was normal but it did nothing positive for its victim and then throw on top of that broken ribs.  Nathan hoped Standish would not be able to remember the severe pain he experienced now. The gambler gripped the saddle horn white knuckled with his left hand, drawing his legs up against the pain.  The others stopped and waited it out, each silently cringing and feeling their own stomachs knot and turn. There really was nothing they could do to help.  After three bouts the last being dry heaves Standish slumped unconscious against Wilmington.

Nathan pulled a rag out of his saddle bag and gently wiped the clinging vomit from Standish's face and chest.  There was not much he could do to help Buck or the saddle.  They had put his red coat back on him after they had wrapped his ribs at the cliffs to protect him from the early summer sun, now it was covered with partially digested food, dinner from the looks of it.  Vin peered sympathetically at Buck, his saddle and upper pant legs were saturated.  Chris smiled and shook his head.  It was JD who finally broke the ice, “Well maybe that will disguise your animal magnetism.” This caused the others to erupt with laughter.  A much needed release.

Wilmington had never wanted a bath so bad in his life.  For the last two miles all he could smell was
vomit.  It was enough to make him want to retch.  They rode into town Chris Vin and JD stopped at the livery, while Buck ,Nathan and Josiah  rode straight to the clinic.   “Nathan you have got to move your clinic closer to the stables.” Wilmington complained.  Jackson smiled and nodded.  He could not stand the smell of Buck and the intense heat only made it worse.  Wilmington eased the unconscious gambler down into the arms of  the preacher.  Josiah adjusted the weight in his arms and then carried the gambler up to the clinic.  Buck stared in dismay at his saddle, it not only stunk as bad as he, but also discolored.  He tried to pick his crust dried pants away from the skin of his leg but they seemed molded together.  Oh he could not wait to get a bath.  As he rode toward the livery he mused over how he'd make Standish pay for this.  Larabee noticed the smiling features on Buck,  “Hey Buck you beginning to enjoy your new scent?”

Wilmington smiled genuinely, “Nope but Ezra is going to pay in a big way for this.”

Vin and Chris both laughed thinking sure he would, Standish could weasel out of just about anything if he put his mind to it.

An hour later Josiah joined the others in the saloon.  As he pulled up a chair next to Buck he thought better
of it and slid it decidedly closer to JD.  “What I took a bath!”  Wilmington said with exasperation.  Josiah nodded in agreement and added, “You should try soap next time, you still stink.”

Buck swore and muttered, “Oh Ezra you're going to pay big for this.”

“Speaking of which, how is he?”  Vin asked.  Josiah sipped at his beer wrinkled his nose and then stood picking up his chair and moved it to the opposite side of the table from Buck.  Chris chuckled.  “Nathan's with him now,  no fractured skull.  Bullet just grazed him the fall certainly didn't help it though. He's got four broken ribs, and the deepest purple bruise I have ever seen, it runs from his mid thigh to just below his rib cage,” Josiah shook his head.  It was a massive contusion with deep rich color.  Thank the lord it wasn't his leg. “ His ankle's swollen but probably just sprained. Nathan thinks he took the blunt of the fall on his right leg and shoulder.”  Josiah took a sip of his beer and added, “He's going to be sore for awhile but should be ok in time.”

“Gawd damn ,he's the luckiest S.O.B. I have ever met.”  Vin stated.  The others nodded in agreement.  Chris pushed his chair back from the table sighing, “I'm going to go talk to Nathan see if he noticed anything, maybe Ezra said something.”  Larabee headed for the door.  JD silently berated himself for not being much help but he did not see what the gambler had pointed at or understood what he had attempted to tell them.  ‘Damn’ JD thought ‘why couldn't Ezra just get straight to the point and say what he meant.’  Buck nudged the kid in the side when the older man noticed the troubled expression, “Chris is just trying to cover all his avenues, he doesn't think you messed up.” The kid merely nodded his head.

Jackson peered up from restocking his meager shelves with clean bandages when he heard the door click
open.  Nathan smiled he wondered how long Larabee would wait before he would come ask questions.  “Hey
Chris.”  the healer greeted placing the last of the rolled bandages in a dry clean wash basin.  Larabee glanced at the unconscious gambler.  Standish lay on his back the gun wound to his head had been cleaned and left unwrapped, it did not appear very deep but a dark ugly bruise wrapped itself around his forehead and down his cheek.  His chest and right shoulder, however, were wrapped tightly his right forearm pinned to his chest with heavy strips of wrapped clothe.  In the stifling heat Nathan had left the wool blankets at his patient's midsection.  Standish breathed slowly and shallowly ,his head tilted toward the injured shoulder.  For all intent and purposes he appeared sleeping except for his position, flat on his back with his legs straight with his right ankle slightly elevated by a pillow.  “How's he doing?”  Chris asked moving toward the head of the bed staring down at the gambler, almost willing the con man to wake up.  Nathan watched the leader of the seven for a moment before answering.  The healer knew, as did the others, that Chris tended to come down harshly on the con man more so than the others.  Standish's character was questionable and his motives as clear as mud, but one thing Larabee had discovered along with the others, though Ezra had been slow to become loyal, but loyal he had become, fiercely protecting the others in his own sarcastic normally slow to anger way.  Chris had once mused Standish was deadly because he only acted when he felt it was
absolutely necessary.  Jackson observed Larabee now, the gunslinger appeared truly concerned for the gambler.

This did not surprise Nathan, it would shock the hell out of Ezra, though.  The healer chuckled out loud causing Larabee to face him.  “I take it that's a ‘fine.'"

Jackson was about to answer when he heard a soft moan.  Both men turned and peered at the gambler.  He stirred.

“Ezra?”  Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and peered expectantly at his patient.  Chris stood behind
Nathan watching intently as the gambler struggled out of unconsciousness.   “Ezra can you hear me?”  Nathan paused again and watched the glazed green eyes flutter open briefly then roll and close again.  “Ezra, come on pard’, talk to me.”  Jackson patted his cheek softly, this produced the desired effect.  Standish's green eyes opened and closed, open again and stayed open blinking tiredly.   “Ezra can you hear me?”  Nathan inquired watching the blurry glazed eyes try and focus on him.  Standish tried to speak but managed only a guttural inarticulate groan.   Nathan waited patiently as Standish tried gamely to wake up.  His eyes roved bewildered around the room and finally rested back on Nathan.  Jackson smiled reassuringly,  “Hang in there Ezra.  Can you tell me how you feel?”  Again, Standish just stared up at him dazed.  “You're ok, you're  back at the clinic.”  Jackson spoke loudly and clearly trying to penetrate the hazy mind.  Finally, “Nathan?”  It came out weak, and thick the soft southern drawl heavy.

Nathan smiled, “Yeah Ezra it's me. Chris is here too.”  Jackson watched as the green eyes shift focus and took in Larabee.  They lingered for a bit on the gunslinger and a confused look crossed the gambler's normally unreadable expression.   Then he gazed back at the healer Nathan smile broadened, Standish wouldn't remember these first few minutes it would be to bad.   “How you feeling?”  Again a pregnant pause as if his mind did not understand or could not hear what was said, but eventually Standish answered, “My head hurts.”  He tried to raise his left hand to his forehead but Larabee easily prevented by laying his hand over the con man's wrist.

“Yeah, I bet it does.”  Jackson intoned and then added, “You had a bullet glance off your head.”
Larabee could not wait any longer and leaned over the healer,  “Ezra you remember who you saw today?”  Chris asked.  Standish just stared at him perplexed.  Chris tried again, “Earlier today you saw who was apart of the rustlers.”  Larabee did not like the blank look he received.  “Shot?”  Ezra asked softly, his eyes fluttered closed and quietly breathed out, “Awww hell.”  and drifted off to sleep.  Nathan rested his hand on top of the gamblers light brown hair, “Get some rest Ezra.”  He sat up from the bedside sidled past Larabee and continued to clean the clinic from the earlier activities.

Larabee stood watching the con man.  From the response or lack there of, Chris knew Ezra would not be
much help any time soon.  The gunslinger turned and watched the healer tidy up the place, and then gazed back down at the gambler.  What a mess, he thought, the only one who might know anything could not even keep his eyes open for a few seconds.  Chris turned away from the sleeping form, it was not Standish's fault, in fact he had saved Vin and Chris' life.  Larabee no doubt was thankful he just wished that Standish would have been more coherent so the others could get whoever did this to him.  “How long he going to be like this?”  Larabee asked quietly, clenching his jaws. He would reek revenge on the rustlers and extract the proper price from the individual who had inflicted such grief.  Nathan stopped what he was doing and stared from the sleeping gambler to the gunslinger apparently thinking.  Jackson shrugged his shoulders and shook his head slowly, “He may never recall who he saw.” Jackson paused and met the leader of the seven in the eyes.  Jackson saw the anger and the fight in the icy blue eyes, the healer almost felt bad for the rustlers, almost.  “Chris he probably won't be able to recall much of anything from this day or the last few and most likely the next couple will be a blur to him.”  To stress his point Nathan walked over to Ezra and gently brushed some stray bangs out of the wound exposing more of the extensive laceration and discoloration.  “ He has one hell of a concussion.  Not to mention the trauma inflicted by the fall.”  He slowly rolled
Standish's head away from the injured shoulder to point out more of the laceration and bruising, though milder than the left side, on the cheek and ear.  Standish did not react his face slack , muscles relaxed, the body trying desperately to deal with the head wounds the best way it knew how, sleep.  Jackson mused sometimes the body did not know what was best for it, as a result Nathan and the others would be forced to rouse the gambler every couple of hours.  Jackson glanced over at Larabee.  Chris merely nodded in understanding, he did not like it but he would deal with it.  If Ezra could help them, great, but Larabee realized that Standish may not be able to offer much assistance.  They were back at square one.  Larabee headed toward the door and then paused before opening it, “Keep me up on how he is doing.”  Nathan nodded “No problem.”

Josiah, Buck and Vin gazed up at the saloon entrance when Larabee briskly strode through the doors.
Frustration emanated from him in waves.  “He's not happy.”  Josiah pointed out unnecessarily to no one in particular.

JD had disappeared to the telegram office and the jail making his rounds.  Larabee settled down at the table and poured himself a much needed shot of whiskey.  No one spoke.  The saloon was quiet this early afternoon being mid week, few patrons gracing the scattering of tables around the wood planked room.  The dry heat had become oppressive, just sitting still sweat clung to clothing.  Nothing or nobody wanted to move around much in the sun and so the town and it's buildings appeared deserted to the unskilled eye.  In the saloon the five men slowly nursed warm whiskey lost in their own thoughts.  A rider could be heard reining his horse in front of the saloon and soon the owner carefully picked his way through the door.  Buck gazed up and immediately recognized  Jason Colby.

“Jay!”  Wilmington exclaimed waving frantically for the man to join them.  Colby pulled a chair over and
sat down heavily.  He looked hot and weary.  Scratches and dirt covered his face.  He held his left arm close to his side as if it were injured.  “Gawd you look terrible.  You ok?”  Buck asked concern lacing his tone.  “You want me to go get Nathan?”  He offered.  Colby shook his head and smiled reassuringly, “No Buck I'm fine just a little banged up.”  Vin eyed the man critically, something did not seem right, the hackles on his neck stood on end.

Chris smiled tightly at his old friend, “You sure Jason?”  Again Colby just nodded brushing off the concern.  Sanchez looked the man over he did not seem to worse for wear, especially after having a horse tumble over him. Thank god for small miracles.  Chris poured Colby a whiskey and slid it toward the man without speaking.  Colby nodded his thanks.  The giant man took a sip and placed the nearly full shot glass down, “Philips told me one of your men got injured.  He ok?”  Buck merely shrugged, “He's alive at least.”  Colby nodded silently in response.

Tanner watched the big man, like one would watch a rattler just out of striking distance.  “What happened?”
“ He saw someone sneaking up behind Chris and Vin started shouting it was a set up and got his fool head glazed by a bullet.”  Buck again answered.  No one else seemed up for conversation.  Tanner watched as a very worried expression burned across Colby's face.  Concern for Ezra?  Somehow Vin did not think so.  “He say who he saw?”

“No.” It was Chris who answered anger dripped from his short clipped answer.  The tracker’s eyes almost widened when he saw the relief flicker across Jason's dirty face.  Vin had to speak to Chris alone.  Friend or not Jason Colby had something to do with the rustling, Tanner just did not know in what capacity.

The quiet of the saloon suddenly came to an end when JD burst through the doors.  “They're after Nettie's
cattle!!”  The young sheriff might as well have thrown a stick of dynamite in the room.  Chairs fell over backward as men jumped to their feet and rushed out the door.   Jackson had come down the clinic steps satisfied the gambler would rest comfortably for an hour or so when he heard JD.  Now he ran to meet the other men who burst from the saloon.  “Colby you stay here with Ezra.”  Chris barked out as they headed for the livery.  Tanner nearly came to a stop when Jason did not argue, it was almost as if that is what he wanted.  “No leave Josiah.” Vin quickly said as he jogged beside the gunslinger.   Larabee shot him an icy glare as they reached the livery.  “We need Josiah.”  Chris hissed.  Sanchez watched the exchanged between the two friends, confused.  He had noticed Vin did not take a liking to the newcomer, but Vin was slow to trust anyone.  Tanner's reply surprised the preacher even more, “Ezra may need him more.”

“What are you getting at Vin?”  Larabee looked close to murder at this point, and had it been anyone else they would have recanted their statement and backed down.  Vin Tanner was not anyone else, he stood his ground, “Something's not right about Colby.  Leave Josiah.”  Before Larabee could react Tanner added, “If I'm wrong so what I apologize to your friend but if I'm right...”  He let the statement go unfinished.  Chris glared at the tracker not liking the implications at all.  The tension between the two men was palatable but had been missed by the others as they hastily saddled their horses.  Sanchez thought it prudent to intervene.  “Chris let me hang back.”  Larabee swung his head sharply over his shoulder tearing his eyes from the tracker to the preacher.  Sanchez continued calmly, “If Ezra saw someone then maybe that someone saw him too.”  The preacher did not like the murderous stare that met him, “Colby might not be up for the fight.”   Josiah waited and knew what the response would be, Chris might not have liked it but they had a point.  “Ok you stay.”  With that he lead his gelding, seething at unspoken accusations, out of the livery.  Tanner followed, hoping he had been wrong, it would be easier for him to apologize to Jason Colby than it would be for Chris to deal with the betrayal of an old friend.  As he led his wild colored paint passed Josiah he quietly whispered, “Thanks.”  The preacher nodded.

They rode hard and fast toward Nettie's.  The horses pushed to their limits in the sweltering heat.  Nettie
would not sit quietly as others stole her property, she would fight.  The old woman had the devil in her when it came to holding her ground and doing battle, it be mother nature who brought her wraith down or mere men, Nettie Wells would dig in and bare her teeth.  Chris and the others admired her grit and determination but sometimes in situations like this it frightened them.  Nettie Wells apparently held no fear not even of her own death.  She had sent Casey to town for help, effectively getting her only sacred possession out of harms way, her niece.   So the five men pushed their mounts and themselves beyond tolerance to protect the life of an older woman whom they knew would do the same for them.  As they approached the small homestead they could hear the reports of gunshots. The old spencer carbine made a distinctive bark, it answered quickly by a volley of rifle shots.  Chris split his men up.  Buck and JD rode in from the east,  Nathan and Vin from the north and Chris right down the middle.

JD and Buck came up from the left flank of the house, JD bailed off his horse twin colts firing.  Buck
gracefully but quickly slid from the saddle diving behind a large bull pine firing his repeating rifle.  Rustlers dove for cover behind the barn and wagon, some hunkering down behind the well and others water barrels.  There seemed no respite from the gun fire.  Nathan and Vin brought their lathered mounts to a sudden halt just inside the tree line to the right of the house.  Tanner noted relieved that Nettie still fired from the safety of her kitchen window.  The woman had brawn.  The tracker and healer fired at the cowboys before them.  They two comrades could make out Buck and JD the two seemed to be holding their own.  Larabee's gun suddenly joined Nettie's from inside the house.

Nettie Wells heard someone enter the back room and was about to turn and begin firing when a familiar
voice spoke, “It's me Nettie.”  The soft deadly voice could only belong to the leader of the seven.  So without turning to face the younger man she intoned, “Glad you could join the party Mr. Larabee.  Won't you join me at the window.”  Chris had to smile in spite of himself, the old woman did not even seemed unnerved by the potential doom that could befall her.  The battle waged on for a few more minutes.  The five men, fueled by anger and frustration and the unbearable thought of failing Nettie Wells would not give up.  They did not aim to take hostages this time.  They had tried that before and one of them nearly paid for it with his life.   They expected no quarter and gave none.  The rustlers cursed the fate that had befallen them.  They watched as their plans had begun to unravel.  The leader had been spotted by one of the peace keepers earlier in the day, the ruse was almost up.  They had wanted to pull out after the Cochrane hit but they had been ordered to hit more ranches.  They figured they'd hit the old widow and her niece.  How hard could it be?  They did not count on Nettie's belligerence, or Casey's ability with a horse.  Soon the rustlers found themselves in a fight for their lives.  They were losing, as one by one they were cut down.  It seemed like such a simple plan, undermine the seven by stealing cattle and avoid capture, soon the locals would come to think the seven could not effectively protect them and therefore throw the seven lawmen out, leaving the territory open for the taking.  The plan was working great up until their leader became impatient.  The rustlers were forced to do more jobs to quickly, caution and care thrown to the wind.  With the frequency of the raids increased, the planning and execution suffered, as a result the men tired and mistakes were made.  As the last two rustlers hunkered down behind a wagon they reached the only decision two cornered men with no ammunition could when faced with unmanageable odds.  They surrendered.  They stopped firing waiting for the law men to cease.  Slowly the shooting stopped.  Bodies laid spewed in the small barn yard.  An uneasy silence fell across the barnyard, the smell of gun smoke hung heavy in the stagnant air.  JD peered questionably at Buck the larger man just shrugged neither man willing to give up their cover.  Nathan whispered over to Vin, “Think they had enough?”  The tracker smiled tightly, they should not have messed with Nettie Wells.  From inside the house Chris shouted, “Throw your weapons where I can see 'em and come out slowly.”   Suddenly two guns were tossed in the yard and a few moments later two men slowly came into few.  Chris would not underestimate these men, “Walk to the center of the yard slowly.”  The two rustler complied.  The voice that spoke to them left no doubt that he would kill them if his directions were not followed.

JD and Buck cautiously came out from behind cover never taking their guns off their prisoners.  They could
see Vin and Nathan come out from the tree line and noticed Chris and Nettie exit the house onto the porch.
“Buck tie 'em up.”  Larabee ordered.  Wilmington and Dunne happily complied.  As Buck tied the rustlers hands behind their backs he chuckled, “you really messed up going after Nettie.”  Wilmington cinched harshly down on the knot effectively tightening the ropes.  “Not very smart at all.”  JD added never taking his eyes off the captives.  Chris  came up the the men, “JD, go gather the horses.”  The young sheriff did not question or fight the order but jogged off  to quickly fulfill it.   Tanner roughly pushed the two men down on the ground.  They fell heavily to their back sides, “Now you're going to tell us who's behind this.”  He hissed.  The incident in the livery weighed heavily on him.  The captives held their tongues, these men were lawmen and would not seriously harm them, unlike their boss.

With no answer forthcoming Wilmington grabbed a fist full of a captives black hair and yanked his head backward at an angle, exposing the prisoners throat.  Buck used his other hand and slowly put pressure on the exposed trachea, causing the man to gag.  Jackson uneasy with the display of brutality walked away.  Wilmington hissed in the prisoners ear, “He asked you a question.”  Still no response, the man continued to writhe under the pressure on his trachea.  Larabee added his two pence, “We don't need two of you.”  His point very clear.  Still neither man spoke.

JD trotted up on foot leading five horses.  “Maybe a brisk walk back to town will loosen their tongues.”  Vin said wiping copious amount of sweat from his brow.  Chris gave his friend a side long glance a slow smile crossed his face.  “Not a bad idea, not bad at all.”

The two men were tethered behind Wilmington and Tanner's horses respectively.  The five men bade their
good byes to Nettie promising to send Casey home with an escort.  Chris smiled, he knew JD would volunteer for the duty.  As they rode the six miles back to town no one spoke to the prisoners but it seemed the five lawmen made it a point to drink frequently from their canteens.

After the other five had galloped out of town, Josiah watched them go wondering what had tipped Vin off
against Chris and Buck's old friend.  Whatever the reason, Sanchez had learned to trust the trackers instincts.  It was uncanny how accurate Tanner's instincts could be.  The only one who read people as well if not better was the gambler.  Josiah chuckled at the thought, Vin felt more at home in the wild and actively avoided crowded places,  his friendship with the other six men forced him to stay in town protecting it.  On the flip side Standish detested the great outdoors actively seeking comfort of the saloon and an easy mark.  The town of Four Corners, in the gamblers eyes was untamed and wild but again it was the friendship of the other six that kept him in the backwater burg, though he would never admit it.  The two men could not have been more opposites yet they cultivated a similar ability, out of a need to survive.   Sanchez watched Colby head toward the clinic.  Tanner's distrust of the man spurred the preacher into action.  “Hey Jason.”  Josiah called out.  “Jason!!”  This got the gunslingers attention.  He halted on the steps to see who called him.  The bigger man swore when he saw the preacher coming toward him.  So much for the easy plan of getting rid of the gambler.  He quietly climbed down the steps to the board walk.  He plastered a smile on his face, “I was just going to look in on him.”

Josiah smiled pleasantly, not liking the cold look in the others eyes.  He had seen the same emptiness in Larabee's when he hit the bottle to hard and became angry, deadly.  “Nathan said we should leave him be.  Let him sleep.”

Colby sized up the man in front of him.  Josiah Sanchez stood about his height, the broad shoulders were an even match.  Jason Colby did not think he would be able to take the preacher in a physical confrontation.  He’d bide his time and wait.  The con man apparently was not going anywhere.  “Not a problem.  I'm going to the saloon for a drink you want to come?”  Josiah considered the invitation but declined, making the excuse he had work to complete on the church.  Not a lie but place he could watch the clinic from a safe position.

Ezra woke because of the pain in his head.  He rolled his head trying to find a non tender spot and failed
miserably.  The next thing he noticed through the pain in his head and every increasing agony in his side was the heat.

Sweat trickled down his head and chest and back, despite the pain of broken ribs and pounding headache, it itched.  The little beads meandered down the creases in his back and chest under the tight bandages, it was becoming maddening.  His eyes blinked open.  It took a bit but after a few moments his eyes began to focus.  The room at first spun crazily out of control.  Eventually even that subsided but not completely go away.  He lay quietly as his body checked in.  He tried to move his right hand but was reward with sudden hot pain through his shoulder and the realization that his arm was pinned diagonally across his chest.   Dislocated?  He could not remember how it happened.  In fact he mused he could not recall much.  It felt like he had a severe hangover, but why then the bandages?  His left hand would move freely, he felt the bandages around his chest, his right side cried out in protest as his hand ran over his broken ribs.  How? He tried to shift position but again he was brought up short by discomfort.  He lay quietly trying desperately to remember something.  It felt like someone packed his head with mud.  Gawd it was hot.  His pillow and sheets were saturated with sweat.  He noticed enough of the room to figure out he lay in Nathan's clinic.  Not a good sign but he could have been dealt worse cards.  With monumental effort and questionable intelligence, he
rolled onto his left side slid his legs off the side of the bed and slowly, very gingerly sat up.

Josiah sat working on one of the pews in the small church.  He had asked Seth and Dolly to keep and eye on
Colby.  If the gunslinger made a move to leave the saloon one of them would warn Sanchez.  Josiah did not want to tip his hand, he agreed with Vin, something did not feel right about the man.  Josiah heard someone enter the church and popped his head up expecting to see the barkeep or Dolly, expecting trouble.  He jumped to his feet and knew he had trouble but of a different nature, “Ezra! What the hell are you doing?”  Josiah quickly made his way down the center aisle to the dangerously swaying gambler.  Standish had managed to put on his dark pinstripe pants and that was all.  The suspenders hung down by his hips, he leaned against a pew using his left hand to support himself as he favored his right leg.  His brown hair was unkempt sticking up on end and matted down in other spots.  Sweat glistened off his face and torso, the bandages already discolored in spots by perspiration.  As Josiah quickly drew near he noticed the glazed tired but bewildered look in the gambler's blood shot green eyes.  Sanchez peered down at the younger man, gripping his upper arm.  For someone who only did manual labor purely by mistake Standish kept himself in remarkable shape.  “Ezra what are you doing out of bed?”  Josiah's hand slipped slightly on the sweaty
upper arm.  Standish for his part gazed confused up at the preacher, “Josiah?”

Sanchez smiled patiently at the con man, Standish normally had a sharp quick mind and seeing him so off keel was unusual.  “Yeah Ezra it's me.  Lets go get you back to Nathan's.”  Josiah was about to gently guide the smaller man back to the clinic when a small, weak “no” stopped him.  Even with his bell rung the con man could be stubborn.

Standish continued to mumble his speech uncharacteristically inarticulate, his southern accent had become very thick, “It's hot, too hot.”  He babbled, leaning heavily against the pew.  Sanchez tightened his grip ready if Ezra's knees should buckle.  The second story of the clinic did become very hot being on the second floor.  “Ok lets get you lying down.”  Josiah slowly, gingerly guided Ezra down the aisle.  The con man leaned heavily into the older man, his legs shook with exhaustion, his head drooped his chin nearly touching his chest.   Sanchez smiled to himself, Standish really must be out of it to lean on anyone.  The man could be so bull headed at times when it came to seeking help that it drove the others crazy, especially Nathan.  “Ok lets sit down here.”  Josiah eased Ezra onto his small bed in the back of the church.  The small room tended to be alot cooler than the rest of the building, unfortunately this proved true in the winter time too.  He guided Standish down, “Ok lets lay you back.”  Ezra moaned as Josiah supported the base of his sweat drenched head back onto the pillow.  The preacher noticed the green eyes had fluttered closed, Josiah easily lifted his legs and swung them onto the bed , again Standish groaned at the movement.  “Hold on son almost through.”  Josiah soothed, flinching at the use of the word ‘son’.  The gambler took a nasty dislike to anyone calling him son.  Sanchez pulled the indian woven blanket up to his midsection, Standish took the
rhythmic shallow breaths that accompanied sleep.  Josiah watched him for moment, satisfied he rested comfortably he headed back to his pew.

Vin gazed back at the two men who walked silently behind their horses.  Neither man spoke, both suffered
silently.  Occasionally Tanner felt the twinge of guilt for what he had doing but then he thought about what these men had done and guilt was replaced with anger.  They could make out the silhouette of town.   Tanner hoped Josiah and Ezra were all right.  Within twenty minutes Buck and Vin deposited their captives in the jail and then joined the others at the livery.  Nathan after bedding down his horse started quickly toward his clinic with the others close on his heals.  Larabee eyed the sheriff's office thinking how nice it would be to strangle the truth out of them.  “Hey boys over here.”  Josiah called from the church.  Jackson hesitated and contemplated continuing on to the clinic.  Josiah seemed to read his mind.  “He's in here.”   The late afternoon sun would not give up readily and hung tenaciously in the sky, the relentless heat still radiated from the ground and air.  It was just plain miserably hot.

“What's he doing in here?”  Vin asked from the door way of the cramped apartment.  Nathan sat on the
side of the small bed and quickly checked over his patient.  Ezra slept uneasily on his left side with his head turned slightly to favor the large bruise on his head.  Josiah stood beside Vin leaning against the opposite door jam.  He shrugged his shoulders, “Just wandered in here, said it was hot in the clinic.”  Sanchez then turned his attention from the sleeping con man to the tracker, “You want to tell me what you think is going on?”  Both men were startled when a third voice intoned, “Yes, why don't you.”  It belonged to Chris.

Tanner stared at the two men and then back at the gambler.  Funny, Vin thought, it would be nice to have Ezra back him up on this one time.

Tanner led the other two men into the main body of the church.  JD and Buck had gone back to the saloon
to join Colby for drinks.  Vin stared at Chris trying to gage the gunslingers reaction.  He did not truly think Larabee would act out against him but the tracker took solace in the fact Josiah was present.  Chris broke the ice by speaking first.  His tone held no leniency, “You obviously don't trust Jason. Why?”

Sanchez hid his smile, Chris was not one to beat around the bush.  Tanner thought for a brief minute and answered “He's in on it.”

Josiah ran his tongue over his teeth between tightly sealed lips trying to disguise the grin that threatened to crack his face.  Vin Tanner did not mince words.  The preacher watched the two formidable men before him wondering if he really was going to have to play mediator over the ‘discussion’.  Sanchez wondered how much of a conversation the two men could possibly have since Chris, ‘hardly spoke more than three words a day.’, and Vin tended to keep his own council.  Larabee took the news or observation better than Josiah had expected then again the expreacher had not really expected Vin's revelation either.

“Uh huh.”  Larabee was not buying it.  Tanner had never felt the need for skill in oration, but now as he stood before his friend, hell damn near brother, he would give his last dollar for the con man's ability to sway people.  He did not want to trick Larabee just the opposite, he needed to convince Chris that a life long friend from his past was  a thief and a killer.  Vin had no proof just a gut feeling.  But Standish had the same gut feeling, believe it or not that accounted for something.  That slippery con man would rob you blind and have you thanking him for it by the time he was through talking to you.  Yet Tanner and he possessed a similar gift, both could read people with incredible accuracy and the other men had grown to rely on that ability.  Vin and Ezra differed however in the fact Ezra would use the information for his own monetary benefit and Tanner hell he just tried to keep himself out of the hangman's noose.  “You have any proof?”  Chris asked meeting his friends confident blue eyes.

“No but Ezra felt the same way.”  Tanner was not sure if mentioning the gambler's name would help or hinder his cause.  It was no secret among the seven that Chris and Ezra butted head more times than not.  Sure they got along as long as there was not an easy mark in front of Ezra.  Standish figured everyone was a mark and it was his job, heck his duty to try and swindle them.  Chris however felt it necessary to protect the populace of the small burg and on occasion protect the con man from an upset mark.  The two's bull headedness almost rivaled the banter between JD and Buck.  Larabee stared incredulously at the tracker and then the preacher.  He could not believe his ears.  Standish!  Of all people, that card shark probably did not like Colby because he was not an easy mark.  Larabee started to point this out when he noticed that Josiah had risen an expectant eyebrow and merely nodded his head, he agreed with Tanner's assessment. The gunslinger calmed himself and spoke softly but with a menacing edge to his voice.

“All right Vin we keep an eye on Jason, but if your wrong..” His statement went unfinished when Nathan strode into the foyer of the church.

Jackson realized he had interrupted something but from the looks on everyone's faces it might have been for
the better.  “Josiah, do you mind if we leave him in there tonight.  It's alot cooler and I'd hate to move him.  He's been jostled around enough for one day.”   Sanchez nodded, “Not a problem.”

“He going to be ok?”

“I think so but we're going to have to keep waking him up every two hours or more.  He's got a pretty bad
concussion.”
 

“I’ll sit with him for awhile.”  Vin volunteered, hoping to escape the scrutiny of Larabee.

Buck and JD turned around when Chris, Josiah and Nathan entered the saloon.  Buck waved them over.

Jason smiled up at them and raised his shot glass in greeting as a tight smile crossed his weathered face.

“Boys”  He said tossing the whiskey back.  The three men sat down joining their compatriots in drinks.

“How's Ezra?”  JD asked as he poured Nathan a drink.  The younger man had seen the gambler sleeping in Josiah's small room, Dunne could not help but notice how uncomfortable the gambler appeared.  “He's ok but we need to wake him every couple of hours.”  Buck groaned, it was hard enough to wake Ezra on a good day when he was feeling well.

“How you doing Jason?”  Josiah asked.  The large preacher felt Larabee's warning gaze on him.

“ I'm a little sore but Mrs. Cochrane did a fine job fixing me up.”

“Maybe you should let Nathan here look at ya just to make sure.”  Buck added, truly concerned for his friend.

“No, no really I'm fine.”  Colby reassured again trying to hide his unease.  Larabee watched the exchange with a critical eye.  Maybe Vin had been right after all maybe Jason did have something to hide.  But didn't they all.  Chris decided he would spend some well spent if not vigorous time with their new captives maybe they would shed some light on the increasingly darkening situation.  The men drank in silence playing a few hands of cards.  Finally JD asked Buck for the time.  It slipped just past 8 p.m..  “Well I better go and feed the prisoners.”  He groused. Sometimes the duties of sheriff were so mundane.  Truth be told he would just soon let them sit and go without eating, especially after what they had done to Ezra and tried to do to  Nettie and Casey.

“Let 'em be JD they don't deserve to eat.”  Buck said angrily.   The rustlers had not treated their victims with kindness therefore Wilmington believed kindness should not be bestowed on them.  JD hesitated as if
contemplating the advice and then sadly shook his head, “That wouldn't be right Buck.”  Though tempting, Dunne finished the thought silently and headed out of the saloon.   Sanchez smiled proudly at the boys comment.  The ex-preacher knew JD really was no longer a kid but he seemed so young and naive that he fit the role of younger brother or even son so naturally , it was easy to forget his actual age.  Still sometimes JD proved himself more mature and level headed than the others ever could, even Josiah.  At those times, like now, Josiah wondered how he would have measured up to the younger man at that age, and realized he would have fallen short.  JD Dunne was loyal, kind and good in a fight.  They others just had to make sure he made it to his next birthday.

Josiah was brought out of his reverie when Jason spoke up.   “You get any information from those two?”
Larabee shook his head no, disappointment and anger hung palatable in the the air.  “We'll try again in the morning.”

“Maybe Ezra would recognize them.”  Buck stated hopefully.  Larabee and Colby doubted it for different reasons.

Early next morning pre dawn, Chris sat in the small apartment casting glances at the con man.  The sun had
just begun to climb over the horizon sparkling the gray morning with brilliant rays of pink and purple.  Larabee wiped his brow.  Even this early it proved to be unbearably hot.  A small breeze whisked in from the window adding some degree of relief.  The gunslinger leaned down and wiped at the tributaries of sweat that ran down the gambler's face, neck and chest.  Chris had relieved Buck almost two hours ago.  Wilmington said it would have been easier stopping a herd of stampeding cattle with harsh words than it was to  wake the gambler.  Chris chuckled, that probably was not an exaggeration.  Even out on the trail the gambler slept like the dead, when he did manage to go to sleep.  Larabee stared at the younger man, his sandy brown stood up on end matted in other spots, there were times when the gambler would stay up all night long and the next day playing cards just to repeat it again the following night.  So when he did manage to drag himself from the gaming tables he'd sleep deeply for a few hours and be right back at it again.   Larabee wondered what Standish had seen out there, or more appropriately, who?  Who did he see?

Maybe Buck was right maybe he would recognize the two men sitting in the jail.  No not likely,  JD and Nathan had said that Ezra recognized who he had seen.  Then again, maybe Standish recognized them from his time before the seven had banded together.  Larabee gazed out the window cursing his lack of options.  He sighed it was time to wake the gambler.  Careful not to prod the dislocated shoulder Larabee leaned over and spoke softly at first, giving the gambler the benefit of the doubt.  “Hey Ezra.  Ezra.”  No response.  Standish lay on his left side facing the leader of the seven.  His lips parted a small string of saliva hung from the corner of his mouth, Chris wiped it away with a rag.  A little louder, and a gentle shove to the collarbone area, “Come on Ezra time to wake up.”  Standish did not even move, his respiration remained shallow and regular as typical with deep sleep.  Chris sighed and shook his head smiling tightly.  “Hey’ Ezra wake up.”  No softness laced his raised voice as he peeled one of Ezra's eyelids back.  This received a response.  The breathing caught for a second, his green eyes unrolled and he straightened his legs under the blanket.  “Come on Ezra time to get up.”  Chris commanded.  Standish moaned and spoke, “Leave me alone Conner I ain't going to school today.”  His southern accent decidedly thicker, he actually sounded annoyed and buried his head even deeper into his pillow.  Chris chuckled, he knew to whom the con man referred.  The McNally
boys, nine total with a red headed spit fire of a sister, old childhood friends of the gambler.  Conner, was one of the brothers the one closest to Ezra's age. The gambler lived with them for a year or so hiding from an abusive uncle.

Standish had been tight-lipped about his relation with the tight Irish clan but it was not reciprocated.  For over two weeks the McNally's kept the other six men in stitches with tales of  the young Standish's exploits and habits.  They were a hard drinking hard fighting family, but soon the other six found camaraderie with the clan.  And for two weeks Standish let down his formal guard and actually fit easily into the roll of little brother, much like JD with the others.

When the McNally's left the old Ezra came back, not that it was bad, just that it had been fun to watch him play, laugh, wrestle and drink with his ‘adopted family’. “Wake up Ezra come on let's go.”  Chris rolled his head back exposing the bruising on the right side of his head and face.  “Aww hell Seamus, lets go to the saloon.”  He mumbled swiping absently at the hand on his head.  His eyes still closed.  The gunslinger smiled and shook his head, Seamus one of the older McNally brothers.  Chris looked up at the door when Josiah entered.  “how's he doing?”

Chris merely shook his head, “Thinks I'm Seamus McNally.”  He gazed back down at the gambler, and then back up at Josiah, “doesn't want to go to school, rather go to the saloon.”

Sanchez shut his eyes and shook his head chuckling,  The McNally gang had damn near busted the saloon apart at night and rebuilt it the next day.  The ‘boys’ were built like draft horses, a sharp contrast to the lithe physique of the gambler, though all stood the same height.   “You could be called worse.”  Josiah added.  Larabee nodded.

“Come on Ezra lets go.” Sanchez none to gently slapped the blanketed lower legs, this received the desired effect.

“Hey.”  a soft southern drawl mumbled.

Chris slid forward in his chair and  leaned downed watching the pale green eyes blink open, “Come on Ezra lets go.”

Standish peered at the face in front of him.  He stared at it for  a moment, “Chris?”  His voice was hoarse and
scratchy.  “Yup, you awake?”  Larabee watched the green eyes blink lazily.  “You hungry?”  Josiah asked standing behind Larabee.  Standish switched his point of focus, “Josiah?”  the giant expreacher smiled.  An improvement from yesterday at least.  “What's going on?”

“You took a bad fall.”  Larabee explained simply.  The others had told them that they had explained what had happened time and again but the gambler failed to remember anything.

An hour later Larabee sat eating with the others in the hotel dinning room.  They figured they'd start
questioning the prisoners after breakfast.  Colby had not made it down yet.  Larabee gazed around the table they all appeared haggard and worn down.  The past few weeks had begun to take there toll and then watching over the gambler added another burdened.  They had to get to the bottom of this soon.  “All right lets get over to the jail and see if those two will be more willing to cooperate this fine morning.”  The six men pushed themselves from the table and followed Chris out the door.  The hotel clerk watched the six peace keepers leave and felt a pang of sympathy for the two prisoners.  Larabee on a good day appeared frightening, a man not to be trifled with, the other five were approachable especially Mr. Wilmington and Mr. Sanchez but now as the men strode purposely out the the door, the devil himself had reason to stay at bay.    The old clerk found something to be busy at watching the men exit the building, no things were not going to go well for the two rustlers in the jail.  Then again things had not gone to well for  Rick Parsons the poor old rancher the rustlers had killed.

Vin and Buck flanked Chris followed closely by JD.  Larabee wondered whether or not he should send the kid
away.   Things might not go smoothly for the prisoners, and Chris did not think JD needed to witness any brutality no matter how justified.  He did not want JD questioning himself or the other's morals and ethics besides he mused the kid may be an adult but he was still a little brother to Chris and the others and therefore protected as much.  How to get rid of the kid?  He mused.  Larabee surveyed the small street lost in his thoughts when he noticed someone sat on the church steps.  Standish.  Damn the con man pulled him out of another sticky situation.

Without breaking stride toward the jail Chris spoke quietly but his authority boomed like cannon fire, “JD. Go check on Ezra over there.”  JD slowed his walk and nearly caused Josiah and Nathan to collide with him.  The young sheriff saw the gambler sitting on the church steps leaning against the newly repaired railing.

Dunne was about to protest when Nathan gently guided him over to the church.  Jackson had witnessed enough brutality in one life time and did not wish to observe anymore.  He was thankful Larabee found an excuse to spare JD.  The kid, right now, might not appreciate it but later in life when those nightmares did not invade his dreams he would be thankful.

Sanchez smiled tightly, Larabee for all his cold bravado had a soft spot in his heart for the kid.  For that Josiah thanked God.   The four men skipped up the steps and opened the sheriff office doors.

“Hey Ezra what are you doing?”  Nathan asked as he and JD neared the church.  Jackson was surprised
when the gambler actually responded, by lifting his head. “You're looking better Ezra how ya feelin’?”  JD asked with his ever present youthful enthusiasm.  “Wonderful, Mr. Dunne.  Just wonderful.”  The young sheriff smiled the sarcasm was back, he did not know much about doctoring but he knew that was a good sign.  Standish fingered the large cut that adorned his forehead pressing on the bruised tissue hesitantly,  yeah it hurt.  “Leave it alone.”  Jackson ordered.  Standish glared up at him annoyed.  Yup, JD thought, he's back.   “Would someone care to enlighten me on what has transpired to have brought me to this sorry state?”

“You got shot.”  Nathan said.  “Then you fell off a cliff.”  JD added helpfully.  Standish stared from one to the other as if they had lost their minds.

“And the others?”  Standish inquired.  This surprised Nathan, Standish hardly showed concern for anyone but himself on most occasions, but that was beginning to change.   “They're over at the jail talking to two of the prisoners.”  JD answered.  Ezra slightly raised an eyebrow, it hurt his head, at Nathan.  Jackson merely closed his eyes and nodded his head, both men understanding what Chris and the others had in store for the miscreants.

“What's going on?”  JD said standing up when he noticed the four men walk briskly out of the jail with hands over their mouths.

Nathan and Ezra followed his gaze and all three men climbed to their feet.  Jackson guided the gambler up onto trembling legs.  Together the three men slowly crossed the dirt street toward the jail.  Dunne wanted to run ahead but he could see that Ezra was still unsteady and heavily favored his right leg, which jostled his broken ribs.  JD watched as the gambler clenched his jaw against the pain, the deep purple bruise Josiah had mentioned yesterday was clearly visible above the waist line.  JD hung back and paced himself with the gambler and healer in case Standish faltered.

As they the threesome crossed onto the board walk the rancid sweet smell of death hit them like a physical thing.

JD turned his head away repulsed by the overpowering odor, tucking his head into his shoulder his eyes
watering. Vin, Chris, Buck and Josiah did not see the three others approach until it was too late.  Buck hurried to intercept JD, the rotting smell of death was something no one should have to live through.   Dunne thought he was going to retch.  “Whoa easy there son.  Come on.” Buck said guiding the young man away from the sheriff's office and the permeating smell of  death.  “I I I'm sorry Buck.”  JD stuttered embarrassed by his lack of courage and toughness.   “Nothing to be ashamed of kid.”  Wilmington turned his head around when he heard someone vomiting.  Ezra knelt on the board walk his empty stomach heaving for all its worth.  Nathan and Josiah knelt beside him each resting a hand on his arched back, trying to be supportive in his private hell of pain.  Wilmington shook his head in sympathy, with a head wound a person's stomach was queasy enough, like a bad hangover.  A flip flopping stomach would not take this kind of olfactory insult, without violent results.  Wilmington guided JD around the building out of earshot and sight of the gambler.  Sometimes all it took for someone to vomit was witness someone else doing it.   Buck also wanted to create some distance from Larabee.  His boyhood friend fought back his bubbling anger like an erupting volcano.  You did not want to be around when Chris Larabee lost his temper.  Buck had seen it before and knew the signs, Chris was going to explode.  Someone in the cover of night had murdered the two prisoners.

Larabee watched angrily as Standish groaned between convulsions.   Buck had thankfully whisked the kid out of the area.  Tanner had gone to get the undertaker.  It was a thankless job but this time the undertaker would more than earn his wages extracting the two heat bloated fly engorged corpses out of the jail.  Chris' frustration boiled, they had nothing to go on.  Nothing that is unless you counted on Vin's gut feeling and Ezra's read on the new ‘help’.

The more Larabee thought about it the angrier he became.  Hell there was no way Jason Colby would be a party to this.  He turned and gazed back at the sheriff's door.  No Colby would not partake in the brutality that had been unleashed in the small jail.  Tanner trotted back down the boardwalk, “He's getting help together, said he'd get this place cleaned out best he could.”   Vin could see the knotted tension in his friend.  Chris looked like a powder keg, and the fuse had been lit.  “I’ll be in the saloon.”  Larabee bit out between clenched teeth.

Chris did not bother peering up from his drink as the others filtered in and took seats around the table.  JD
sat sheepishly between Buck and Vin.  No matter what Buck said, JD still felt embarrassed by his reaction earlier in the street.  How could he prove to these men that he was just as tough as them if his stomach threatened to empty itself every time something awful occurred.  Ezra, JD figured, had an excuse.  Just then Josiah and Nathan entered the saloon and took a seat.  “Ezra ok?”  Vin asked.  There was almost nothing worse than vomiting with broken ribs and a bad headache.  “Sleeping.”

“He remember anything?”  Chris snarled.  He was not mad at the gambler, far from it.  He realized it was not the gambler's fault, but Standish held the key to the whole mess and his scrambled mind would not let it out.

“Ahh Chris I told you,” Jackson started again tiredly, “we'll be lucky if he can recall anything that has happened in the past 48 hours let alone who he saw before he went over that damn cliff.”  Nathan bit out angrily, his use of profanity only hit home how frustrated he to had become over this whole mess.

“Easy brothers we're all just a bit tired.”   Sanchez tried to soothe the climbing tempers.  He surveyed the group of men before them, they were dangerous on a good day, deadly when things ran hot.  The others bit their lips, each held their remarks to themselves they understood what the large preacher was trying to do though at the moment they did not appreciate it.   A half hour later Jason Colby breezed in and joined them.

Chris shot Vin a deadly glare, Buck caught the exchange and began to wonder what was going on.  Colby
sat down pouring himself a shot of whiskey.   “How'd it go with the prisoners?”  The lack of verbal response and disgusted stare from Wilmington translated itself into a ‘not good.’   Buck enlightened him when no one else did, “they were killed before we got there.”

Chris eyed Jason for any type of reaction and did not witness anything.  He gazed over at Vin but Tanner would not meet his gaze.  Josiah just shrugged.   Buck again watched the exchange and suddenly became very angry.

“What the hell is going on!!” he exploded slamming his hands on the table and staring straight at Chris.  Larabee merely met the gaze with a steely one of his own.  “Ask Vin and Ezra.”  Larabee intoned.  All motion at the table had ceased.   Tanner ground his teeth in frustration, things were coming to a head and he had no proof.  JD stared wild eyed at the men around the table, he had no idea what caused Wilmington to blow up, and what did it have to do with Vin and Ezra?  Nathan sat in the same boat as JD and peered confused around the table at the men.  There was a definite undercurrent.  Jason spoke adding to the tension, “Ask Ezra and Vin what?”  Colby's questioning blue eyes found the tracker, giving him a wary gaze.  He then added quietly climbing to his feet with the empty whiskey bottle, “Has Standish recalled something?” The giant man made his way over to the bar and exchanged bottles, purposely turning his back on the men.   His tone was nonchalant, mildly interested.  To Vin it sounded forced.  Before anyone could answer Ezra Standish delicately limped through the bat winged doors.

“God damn it.”  Jackson muttered.  Josiah raised his eyes in surprise at the healer.  Nathan hardly ever
swore.  “Damn he's like bad mexican food, won't stay down.”  Buck observed.  This brought chuckles to the men.

Vin noticed a tired smile on just about everyone's faces at Bucks off handed comment except Colby.  He appeared worried.

Chris swiveled around in his chair giving Tanner a slight nod of the head, and faced the gambler.  Josiah noticed it, something was up.

“Ezra I told you stay put unless you remembered something.”  The others watched their leader closely.  What the hell was he talking about.

Colby reacted before anyone could move.  Standish staggered forward a few steps toward his comrades, his right ankle and hip burned with as much intensity as his ribs.  The world tilted back and forth just enough to prevent him from getting his equilibrium.  The next thing he knew someone had him from around the neck and dragging him backward.  “Aww hell.”  he groaned as he was forced to take a step backward.  People were suddenly moving and talking all at once he couldn't focus on anyone thing.  One moment he was standing in the saloon and the next moment he was dragged outside off the boardwalk and into the street.  Ezra desperately tried to get his left foot under himself to get the pressure off his neck.  A voice spoke loudly right beside his ear, he could feel their jaw move against his head.  He held weakly onto the arm that had wrapped itself around his neck with his left hand.

Larabee jumped to his feet pulling his gun, followed closely  by Vin and Josiah.   Buck, JD and Nathan
hesitated until Colby grabbed the gambler.  The six men followed Jason trying to out flank him.  Colby backed out the door, dragging the con man with him.  For Standish's part he appeared confused, lost, his feet would not work properly, and Colby had to support more than half of the smaller man's weight.  The others followed the two out of the saloon.  Jason held a gun to the gambler's midsection.  Standish's head had been forced back against the older man's neck.   “Let him go.”   Larabee hissed.  His gun an extension of his hand held steady, pointed at the outlaw.

Vin and the others fanned out making as many targets as possible.  “Jason what the hell are you doing?”  Buck exclaimed, his gun pulled and aimed at a one time friend.  How could he have missed this.  This had to be what Vin and Chris had been exchanging silently about over the drinks.  “What's it look like Buck?” Colby grated out between clenched teeth.  The con man had proven to be very difficult, even now he as a shield he made things hard.  “I'm leaving this small town, and your friend here is going to help me.”  He tightened his grip on Standish, cutting off even more of the con man's air.  He backed up his eyes roving quickly watching the position of the men.  Colby cocked the hammer back on his gun prodding it none to gently into the gambler's right side.  Ezra cried out as the gun barrel pressed against his injured ribs.  He clenched his teeth, gawd this hurt so bad.  He just wished his eyes could focus on something, anything, if only he could get his left leg under himself and support more of his weight then his head would not hurt so bad.

“Colby you ain't going anywhere.”  Tanner responded.  His mare legs out trying to find a clean shot.

Unfortunately, the gambler had proven to be an adequate shield.  “That my young friend you are mistaken, now if you don't lower your guns your gambling friend will have his innards blown all over the street.”

Ezra understood this and groaned again, gripping tightly at the restricting arm around his neck.   “You do that and you'll be dead before he hits the dirt.”  Larabee answered tightly.  He and Standish may not have gotten along all the time but over the past few months had bridged a fragile trust and friendship.  Larabee hadn't killed him yet and Standish had not given him a reason too.  A good start.  Chris smiled at Jason Colby, the man had no idea how lucky he was.   If he had held the gambler hostage a year ago Larabee would have taken the chance and tried to shoot his old friend, Standish knew the risks.   But not now , not today, Ezra Standish was friend, a confusing and trying friend at times but a friend none the less.   Larabee held his fire.

Colby backed further away trying to figure how he was going to get on his horse.  The six men were trying
to circle around him.  He quickly shifted position jerking the con man with him.  Ezra bit back a cry of pain.

“Don't try it, get in front of me.”  They did not move fast enough, “Now!”  They moved hesitantly back next to Chris and Josiah.  Sanchez watched angrily as the man Buck and Chris called friend slithered away from them.  Standish still struggled to get his foot underneath himself, but his legs failed miserably.  JD did not holster his twin colts as he gathered with his friends.  He could not get a clean shot, how he wish he could.

Why didn't Vin say something earlier?  JD wondered.  Chris kept Colby talking trying to find an opening.

“Why'd you do it?”

Colby chuckled harshly, “Oldest reason in the book.”

“Women?”  Buck answered confused.

“Money.”  Colby answered staring at Wilmington some things never changed.  He elaborated further, “if the folks in this area lost faith in you, you'd be dismissed.  Then the territory would be open for the taking.”

“You kill the Cochranes like you did those two in the jail?”  Tanner asked never lowering his mare's leg.  Jason smiled grimily, “No Mrs. Cochrane and her brood are doing just fine.” He paused and gestured to the sheriff's office, “Those two were fool enough to get caught alive.  Surely you understand why I could not let you question them.”  Colby's ice blue eyes never focused to long on anyone thing.  They darted around searching for away out.

He knew Chris Larabee, the man would kill him the second he got the shot.  Colby smiled inwardly, there
was a time when he held the younger man's loyalty almost as fiercely.  Buck and Chris may have been as close as brothers but Jason Colby treated them like a supportive uncle.  The threesome were a force to behold when they rode together.   Now Colby faced that force, but this time Larabee had five others to back him up, six if you counted the gambler.  Jason considered the injured man for a brief second, funny Chris picked a con man for his little gang of peace keepers.   For every step he took backward the others followed.  The late morning sun beat mercilessly down on them.  No bystanders graced the boardwalk.  It seemed the citizens of Four Corners had encountered this kind of thing before and the novelty of it had warn off.  Safety finally over rode curiosity and they had become wise to the ways of gun fights and hid out of sight.  “Let him go Jason. End it here before it goes any further.”  Buck said.  The betrayal burned a hole in Wilmington's gut.  It twisted him up like an unmanageable ache.  He had trusted the man before him.  He even admired and even looked up to him.  Why'd he have to go an pull a stupid stunt like cattle rustling.

They made it parallel to the jail.  The repugnant stench of death still hung heavily in the air.  Nathan stood
beside Vin his weapon in it's holster.  He was not a good enough shot to risk it, so instead he kept his eyes on the gambler.  “Vin you might get your shot.”  He whispered out the corner of his mouth.  Tanner did not shift his attention from his potential target.  “I think Ezra's gonna get sick again.”  Jackson stated matter of factly.  The healer had witnessed the similar signs countless times before in previous patients, and even much to the gambler's chagrin, himself.  Tanner allowed a smile to creep to the corners of his mouth.

Colby figured he'd get around the building, dispatch the gambler, hoping to slow the others down and make
a run for his horse.  Not the best plan he had ever come up with but it would have to do for now.  The con man could not ride or even get on a horse.  His usefulness ended when they were out of gun sight.   Colby's musings were interrupted when the soft southern drawl of his hostage grabbed his attention.  “I'm going to be sick.”

“What?”

The other six men had not over heard what the gambler said, but heard Colby ask, “What?”  He shifted his arm only slightly and Ezra Standish did something he had not done since he was a child fighting his larger and more numerous cousins.  With all his might he bit down on the arm that held him, closing his eyes against the pain in his head, waiting for the inevitable bullet to rip through his guts.  Jason Colby had expected alot of things of the men in front of him, but not this, not from his helpless captive.  Colby screamed, more shocked than pained but he loosened his grip enough to let the gambler slip toward the ground.  Ezra heard the gunshots, smelled the gunpowder, but two things did not happen.  He did not feel a bullet tear through his right side and he did not release his grip on the other man's arm.  The force of the bullets knocked the larger man backward spinning to the left, toppling over the con man.

Vin suddenly had a shot, Standish had started to fall to the ground.  Tanner had blocked out everything, he
never heard Colby scream or saw the reason why his target let go of his hostage.  All Tanner became aware of was a safe shot produced itself and he took it.  The others followed suit and instantly the small street was filled with the report of gunfire.  Then for Tanner the world immediately snapped back and all six men ran forward as one.  “Roll him off Ezra.”  Chris said.  Josiah and Buck pulled the bigger corpse off the gambler.  They found that Standish still clamped his teeth around the older man's inner arm his eyes clenched closed.  “Whoa, whoa hold on there son.  You can let go now.”  Sanchez chuckled, he had never expected the gambler to pull such a stunt but then again he knew Ezra would do just about anything to turn a losing hand into a winning one.  He used his ace in the hole, an unlikely ace played in an unlikely manner but it worked.  “Ezra? Ezra?”  Jackson knelt beside his friend.  The gambler slowly opened his eyes.  He relaxed his jaw muscles.
“Nathan?”  Jackson smiled reassuringly as the blood shot green eyes found him.  “What are you doing out of bed?”  Jackson chided gently.

“I'm gonna be sick.”  His southern accent very thick and resigned.  Nathan noticed Buck kneeling beside him.

“Help me get him on his side.”  Nathan gingerly rolled the gambler onto his left side facing Buck when the dry
heaves hit.  Ezra tried to climb to his knees as his stomach violently heaved he fell into Wilmington, bile and gastric juices spewing out.   Wilmington merely closed his eyes shaking his head in resignation and supported his friend the best he could, feeling the moisture seep through his clothes and onto his skin.  JD and the others suppressed their laughter at Wilmington's stricken features.  His face said it all, ‘not again.’

Vin, Buck and Chris quieted down as they approached the saloon.  It had been two days since Jason Colby
had been killed.  The late afternoon sun hung lazily in the blue cloudless sky.  It had been another scorchingly hot day.  JD did not mind the heat so much, it was hotter than Boston but no humidity, therefore the heat was bearable.

Chris and the others had finally tracked down the rest of the cattle and led the ranchers to their prospective beefs.  The three peace keepers had stayed close by just to squelch any disagreements the ranchers might have had when recovering their cattle.  The small show of force seemed to be enough since no vocal arguments or gunplay had occurred.  As they climbed the boardwalk they stopped outside the saloon where JD sat with Standish.  The young sheriff sat just adjacent to the batwing doors, his feet resting on the railing as he tilted back in his chair.  Beside him sat Ezra.  The gambler's bandaged right ankle was propped up on some crates with a blanket supporting the foot.  He too tilted his chair back against the saloon building his right arm no longer bandaged to his chest but held in a sling instead.  The tight wraps around his ribs were just visible under the loose shirt he wore uncharacteristically untucked.

His suspenders also hung down off his shoulders.  The cut on his forehead appeared to be healing nicely and the deep purple bruise on his head had begun to lighten and change shades.  “He sleeping?”  Chris asked quietly.   JD unnecessarily peered at the gambler.  He slept with his head against the building his mouth slightly ajar.

JD shrugged and grinned, “He's been out for about the last 45 minutes or more.”  the sheriff then added, “figured someone should stay with him 'til he woke up.”

Buck never ceased to be amazed by the kids thoughtfulness.

“Nathan know he's been up and around?”  Tanner asked smiling knowingly.  It was no secret that Jackson and Standish butted heads when it came to bed rest.  Funny thing was if Ezra had been a 100% you couldn't get him out of bed, but sick or hurt you could not get him to stay put for any amount of time.  Vin guessed no one liked being told what to do, the gambler no exception.

“No.”  the irritated answer, however, did not come from JD.   Jackson scowled as he leaned against the railing.

Josiah stood beside him a smirk on his face.  They had been working on the church.  “Yea just can't leave 'im alone for a few hours.”  the healer muttered.

“Now now, patience Brother Nathan.”  Josiah chided, “at least he's not in the saloon drinking and gambling.”
The men headed into the building as JD spoke up, “Well actually he was until he came out here.”

Buck laughed uproariously with Josiah, when Nathan cursed the gambler.  A genuine smile creased Chris' hard face and Vin nodded, ‘Y. up Ezra was indeed good for a laugh.’  The five men settled down at their customary table to share a friendly drink of whiskey.  Twenty minutes later,  Ezra still unsteady guided by JD entered the saloon and joined them.

“What do you think you're doing?”  Nathan asked indignantly as he watched the gambler pour himself a shot of whiskey.  His usually dexterous steady hands still trembled.  In his customary fashion Ezra raised one eyebrow and matched the healers gaze.  “Is this a rhetorical question or do you expect an answer?”  He placed the bottle down and Buck quickly snapped it up.  It was best to make sure no impromptu weapons were readily available.  The other five men hid their smiles, this was an old but amusing war of words.

“You're going to get yourself killed one of these days, you know that?”

“Ahh yes Mr. Jackson that is true, but not today.”  With that Ezra tossed the fiery drink back and smiled.

His gold tooth glittered off the lighting, his light green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm that had been missing over the last few days.   “Besides Mr. Jackson if I cannot indulge in games of chance, and Mr. Larabee here frowns on my other ventures which would put me closer to owning a fine saloon.” , Chris smiled all to  nowing what those other ventures would be,  Standish continued,  “What would a poor lost soul such as my own do without the single vice of a good drink.”

“You could help with the church.”  Jackson retorted.

“My my surely wielding a hammer or the such would not be beneficial for someone with my unfortunate injuries.”

“Hell Ezra you'd never pound a nail if you were in one piece.”  Tanner replied for the healer.  He truly enjoyed these little arguments between Nathan and Ezra.  Both men had sharp minds, Nathan very quiet and contemplative, Ezra proved quicker but sometimes his mouth jumped into gear before his brain.

“How true, Mr. Tanner.”  He paused running his thumb over his lower lip a smile touched his mouth and added,  “the only manual labor I have ever partaken in has been purely by mistake, I assure you.”  He smiled wickedly as the others again laughed out loud.  Jackson merely smiled and shook his head.  It was good to have the gambler back.