Best Gen Kid Fic
Best Gen Kid Fic
Promises To Keep
By Purple Lacey
There were days that just seemed to be made for kicking off your shoes and walking barefoot through the cool grass. Days when the sun shined warm on your skin and the breeze playfully kissed your face. Days that called for you to cast off responsibilities and troubles, caution and restraint. Vin Tanner recalled many such days in his life…today wasn't one of them.
Vin spared a glance for the bright blue sky littered with sparse clouds as he took off his beat up cavalry hat with one hand and used his other arm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. He sighed softly as he returned the hat to his head then unwrapped the reins from around the saddle pommel and took a firm hold of them. The searing West Texas heat was starting to get to him. He had gotten soft in the years since he had fled his home state two jumps ahead of a posse that wanted his neck in a noose. He had forgotten just how hot Texas could get in the height of summer.
Vin carefully surveyed his surroundings before kicking his horse's flanks lightly with his heels, setting the large black horse into motion again. It wouldn't do to come so close and then lose everything by being careless now. After almost three and a half years of running and hiding, he was about to reclaim his future…reclaim his honor. The one dream his heart had held for all that time was about to be realized. The name his parents had passed down to him so proudly was about to have the last blotch washed away. Vin knew he couldn't afford to let down his guard. The tracker threw another glance over his shoulder to check for dangers from behind then urged his mount to a faster pace. He kept his right hand on the weapon strapped on his side, eyes constantly scanning the horizon.
The sun had already started its downward slide when he reached the top of the hill that looked over his destination. Tascosa. Not much to look at, he supposed. It was nothing but a dry dustbowl in the middle of nowhere, but it was there that the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow was found. There that he would clear his name of the murder charge that had made him a wanted man for so long and forced him to make due without so many things that should have been his by right. Things like a home, a family, and the simple ability to walk down the street without being worried that someone was there to collect on the bounty hanging over his head.
Vin stood in the shade of an overhang of rock watching the town as the night drew darkness down on the town sitting quietly in the valley below and prayed to every spirit he could recall that tomorrow would go the way he hoped it would. So much was riding on it.
Vin unsaddled his horse and rubbed him down before he made camp, building a small fire with the kindling he'd managed to scrounge from the barren landscape. He busied himself with making a meal as his mind went over the long weeks of his journey. The tracker couldn't help the slight smile that flashed across his face as the thought of how Larabee must have reacted when he found out Vin had slipped out of town without him. The town would be lucky if it survived the blast when Chris exploded.
He knew this best friend was planning to accompany him -- had, in fact, promised it-- but Vin knew this was something he had to do for himself. He knew there were still risks involved in his endeavor -- risks he refused to let his friends take with him. He wouldn't be responsible for getting them killed, and that was just what would happen if things went sour. For his life it was worth taking the risk, for theirs it was not.
He knew his friends would disagree. It was a given. In the two years since the group had gathered to protect that Indian village, the six men had become more than just co-workers, more than friends. They had become brothers bound together by spilled blood, shared experiences, and trust; knit tighter than most blood kin. They were a source of comfort, understanding and acceptance…as well as a source of frustration, and irritation. Yep, they were family -- one he missed already. He knew there'd be hell to pay when he got back to Four Corners, if he managed to pull this off that is. It was a price he'd gladly pay. He just hoped they wouldn't make their revenge last too long. That the men might turn from him over this never once crossed his mind.
Vin tossed out the remaining sip of coffee in his cup and set it on top of his saddlebags. He pulled his bedroll over and spread it close to the fire. He lay down, resting his head on his saddle. His eyes stared, unseeing, at the star-filled sky as his mind ran through the plan over and over, searching for possible snags, trying to plan for every contingency. Too much was at stake to leave anything to chance. Like Ezra, Vin grinned to himself at the thought of the gambler, and a lonely feeling swept over the tracker as his thoughts returned to his friends. Soon, he promised himself. Soon you can start back for home and others. Soon.
7777777
Sheriff Buford Waters yawned sleepily as he shuffled through the early morning mist toward the jail. He was getting too old for this, he decided as the old bullet wound in his left shoulder gave a painful twinge in the coolness of the morning. He should hang up his guns and buy a ranch someplace like his wife had been after him to do for the last few years. Find him a piece of land, buy a few head of cattle and live the quiet life. Yep, that's just what he should do. Only he'd miss the excitement of a good gun battle. Miss the feeling of purpose he had with making the streets safe for decent folks. Miss sitting in his chair in front of the jail, looking like he was busy watching out for danger when he was really just thinking-one of his favorite past times. Ranchers didn't get near as much time for thinking he mused. Hmm, maybe he'd better give the ranching idea more thought before he did anything rash.
The man's thoughts were brought up short as he climbed up the steps in front of the jail and saw the man sitting in the sheriff's chair by the locked jail door. The slim man had his legs stretched out in front of him, casually crossed at the ankles. His head rested on the chair back with his battered hat pulled over his face, for all appearances snoozing comfortably. The dusty jacket the man wore covered equally dusty clothes. Curious, but not sensing any danger from the man, the sheriff cleared his throat to get the other's attention.
“Something I can do for you?” Waters started to ask and almost bit his own tongue in surprise as the stranger reached up and pushed his hat back to reveal his alert face. The sheriff just stood staring in shock for a second before he went to draw his gun. “Tanner! You're under arrest!”
Despite appearances, Vin had been completely awake and aware of everything and everyone moving about in the hour that had passed since he slipped quietly into the sleeping town of Tascosa. He had known the exact moment the sheriff and set foot from his house and made his morning walk to the jail. He had played his part of harmlessness well, using the masquerade as a way of keeping his face covered without arousing too much suspicion. He knew his only chance of getting out of this alive was to take his case straight to those in authority. It was the only way to avoid a lynching by the enraged townspeople. Vin remembered Buford Waters from his short visits to the area all those years ago. He was a good man, straight-laced but fair. No prisoners were ever roughed up in his jail just for the fun of it like happened with so many other of the 'lawmen' he had come across in his bounty hunting days.
Vin forced himself to stay seated as the sheriff pointed a very large gun at his chest.
“Take it easy there, Sheriff,” Vin spoke quietly and slowly raised his right hand that was holding a folded piece of paper out to the other man. “I ain't gonna try anything. I come too far to do anything stupid. I just brought this to you. It's proof that I didn't kill Jess Kincaid.”
Waters stood staring at Vin and his outstretched hand suspiciously.
“Sheriff, do you really think I would risk my neck this way on a lie? I tried to tell you then that I was innocent, but no one would listen. I got a paper from Territorial Judge Orin Travis that says the man that really did it confessed to the murder to his gang, and they told everything they heard to the judge. Here,” Vin shoved the paper a little closer to Waters, “See for yourself.”
When the other man made no move to take the missive, Vin slowly rose from the chair and placed the letter in the seat and turned to face the jailhouse wall. He laid his hands, stretched out wide, on the wooden walls and leaned forward to rest his cheek on the wall too, leaving himself a perfect target to the other man. Waters kept his gun pointed on the former bountyhunter as he reached with one hand and swiped up the folded paper.
He shook the letter open and began to read, stopping every few seconds to keep an eye on Vin. Buford Waters heaved a sigh when he reached the end of the letter that was exactly what Tanner had claimed. Slowly he holstered his gun and refolded the note.
“Turn around, Tanner,” he said gruffly.
Vin complied still being careful to keep his hands away from his gun… just in case.
“So this Eli Joe killed Jess?”
Vin nodded. “Yeah. He was setting me up. I was getting too close to his trail. He decided to get rid of me once and for all without risking me getting close enough to catch him. Ole Eli musta chosen Jess Kincaid because he looked something like him. He killed him, dressed him up in some of Eli's clothes and left him for me to find. I assumed he was Eli Joe. I had been after him for a long time, but I'd never actually seen him face ta face before. Jess Kincaid looked pretty close to the picture on the wanted poster.” Vin shrugged, “I didn't know it wasn't Eli Joe until I brought him into town to collect the bounty. The rest you know already.”
“Damn!” Waters mumbled. “This is sure a poor kettle of fish. There's gonna be trouble. It ain't gonna matter to Seth Kincaid whether you killed Jess or someone else did. That man is all muscle and no brains. You was the one that brought Jess' body back and Seth is still gonna blame you for his death.”
Waters sighed again and said, “We gotta talk to the Judge. He's the only one that can throw out the verdict form your murder trial and rescind the bounty on your head.”
Vin silently nodded in agreement, thinking this was easier than he had hoped.
Waters looked around the town that was growing busier as the morning sun rose higher in the sky.
“We'd better get you straight over to the Judge's house before someone sees you and decides to organize a hanging party,” the sheriff said and started leading Vin down the street. “Best pull that hat down a bit lower.”
Vin took the advice and followed after the other man. Waters led him quickly through the streets to the largest house in the town. The sheriff knocked loudly on the door and the two men stood listening as sounds could be heard coming from the back of the spacious home. The door was swung open by a small black-haired pixie of a girl who stood grinning at the visitors, one front tooth missing from the smile.
“Morning, Sheriff Waters!” the child said.
“Good morning, Betsy. I need to speak to your father. Could you tell him for me,” the man said, smiling down on the child.
“Sure, Sheriff. Come on in.”
Vin and Waters entered the home and started to follow the girl when she suddenly stopped at the foot of the large staircase that ended in the foyer and yelled, “PAPA! THE SHERIFF IS HERE TO SEE YOU.”
“Elizabeth Margaretta Monroe! What have I told you about yelling in the house,” said a stern voice from the head of the stairs. Vin looked up to watch a slim, well-dressed man descend the steps. The man was in his mid-forties if he was a day, judging by the deep lines on his face and the liberal sprinkling of grey in his brown hair.
Unrepentant, the little imp shrugged and gave him a snaggle-tooth grin then replied, “Young ladies should be quiet and demure.”
“I would not call your current behavior either quiet or demure. Perhaps you should join your mother in the kitchen for further instruction on proper ladylike behavior.”
“But Papa, Jimmy and me are gonna go fishin'” The child protested.
“I don't believe so,” her father said firmly.
“But...”
“Now, Elizabeth,” He ordered.
“Yes, Papa,” the girl stated unhappily as she turned and dragged her feet toward the back of the house. All three men watched the child's progress for a moment before the judge turned to stare at Vin.
“Vin Tanner. Now this is unexpected. When you escaped from the jail so long ago I didn't expect to ever see you again…alive anyway. Why are you here? And why are you not in irons?” The judge raised a questioning eyebrow at the Sheriff.
Waters rushed to explain as he handed the judge the letter Vin had given him, “He brought a letter from a territorial judge that says somebody named Eli Joe was the real killer of Jess Kincaid.”
Judge Monroe read the letter carefully, paying special attention to the embossed seal in one corner.
“I would appear that Sheriff Waters is correct. Appears.” The judge held up a finger interrupting the words the sheriff was about to speak. “But appearances can be deceptive. The information will need to be verified before the verdict can be overturned.”
Vin spoke for the first time. “Judge Travis can tell you anything you need to know. He usually makes it to Eagle Bend right around this time, but if he got caught up in a trial he might be running a bit late. I can give you the towns on his circuit if you want to send telegrams.”
The Judge acquiesced with a nod. “This says you have spent the last two years as a peacekeeper, a very good one if this is to be believed.”
Vin shrugged, “Don't know about good, but I been helping keep the peace.”
The judge wagged his head again in acknowledgement. “Well, Mr. Tanner. I'm wondering if it might be in everyone's interest if you remained in the jail until this matter can be resolved.”
Vin stiffened and looked at the man squarely. “I ain't about to take off. I come to clear my name, and I ain't going anywhere until that's done!”
“Be that as it may, there are certain citizens who might not be pleased to see you wandering the streets freely.”
“I didn't kill Jess Kincaid! I won't be jailed for somethin' I didn't do!” Vin stated heatedly. “Would you like to be stuck in a stuffy jail cell when you were innocent? An innocent man don't belong in no jail!”
'But we can not guarantee your safety, Mr. Tanner.”
“I ain't asking you to. I been takin' care of myself for a long time now. I can manage just fine on my own,” Vin told him.
“I think you underestimate the emotional response your presence in town will engender from the townspeople,” The judge informed him seriously. “Jess Kincaid was well liked in this town. A lot of people took it very hard when you escaped custody. They will be out for your blood now that you are back, innocence not withstanding. I am afraid they may decide to act first and think latter.”
“I'll take my chances,” Vin said firmly. The idea of being trapped in that tiny jail cell again caused long buried fears to creep up on him. There was no way he would voluntarily consent to being put there again. Once had been more than enough.
“Very well,” the judge gave in, “on your own head be it. Sheriff, it would perhaps be best if we began circulating the news about this new development as soon as possible. Perhaps we can stall for time.” The judge tugged on his chin with one hand as he appeared lost in thought. “Gentlemen, I believe this action calls for an expert's touch. If you will follow me.”
This said, the judge led the men to the back of the house and into the kitchen where a pretty brown-haired woman was busy at the wood-burning stove. The smell of frying bacon filled the room, and the sight of the golden brown biscuits she was taking from the pan she had just removed from the oven and was placing in a napkin lined basket, caused Vin's stomach to growl in appreciation. The woman looked up in question as her husband and the men entered the room.
“Why good morning, Sheriff,” she said warmly. “Betsy said we had visitors this morning. Would you gentlemen care to join us for breakfast? We have plenty to…” The words dropped off as she got a good look at the longhaired man in the brown jacket. She stared in disbelief for a second before her eyes flew to meet her husband's. The woman's manners took over and she tried to smile at the man. “If you gentlemen would take a seat at the table I will bring you some coffee.”
“Please don't go to any trouble, ma'am,” Vin said, trying to put the woman more at ease.
“Nonsense. It's no trouble,” She said more firmly as she studied the quiet man standing in her kitchen. Somehow she just didn't feel threatened by this man. His blue eyes met hers squarely, leaving it to her to make her own decisions about him, but her sharp mother's eyes could see that hint of hurt lurking in the back of his expression that nearly broke her heart. Instincts older than time kicked in and the woman reached out to take him by the arm and lead him to the table. She pulled a chair out for him and almost pushed him down onto it. “I would be insulted if you turned down my cooking. I make a mean biscuit, even if I do say so myself. You just sit yourself there and enjoy.”
Vin looked up to see The Judge grinning back at him. “Might as well give in gracefully. Nobody can stop the woman once she gets a bee in her bonnet. If she's decided to feed you, then eat you will.”
“Don't you listen to a word he says,” the judge's wife smacked at her husband with a towel then proceeded to gather cups, plates and silverware for her unexpected breakfast guests.
“Actually my dear, I believe we need your assistance with a situation that has developed.”
“Why certainly, dear,” she answered as she gracefully poured coffee for each man from the large blue-speckled coffee pot that she then slipped back on to the stovetop. “How can I help?”
“Well, my dear, it is like this,” The judge replied and began filling his wife in.
“Oh my! You poor man!” she exclaimed when the tale was finished. “How perfectly dreadful it must have been for you.”
Embarrassed, Vin tried to downplay the whole ordeal, “I managed. I just want to get my name cleared. That's pretty much all I've thought about for a long time now.”
“Oh yes, I can see where it would be. Well let me assure you, you will have my full assistance. Hmm, I do believe I'm running short of flour this morning.”
“What happened to that fifty pound bag of it I unloaded for you last week?” The judge asked in astonishment.
“Murphy's General Store is a hotbed of gossip, Martin,” she explained, looking at him as though he were a particularly dense child.
“I see,” the man struggled to contain his smile. “We will leave it in your more than capable hands to get the news out then.”
The men left the kitchen and retreated to the Judge's study. The man composed several telegrams and had his son run over to the telegraph office to send them to all the places Vin said Judge Travis had on his circuit.
“Well, gentlemen. I believe it would be best to give the good people of this town time to circulate the news before Mr. Tanner ventures out onto its streets. Could I perhaps interest you in a game of cards while we wait?”
So for the rest of the morning and half the afternoon, Vin Tanner remained in the home of the Judge and whiled away several pleasant hours gleefully practicing all the lessons in poker that Ezra had given him.
7777777
“Whoa there, little Pard,” Vin said as he reached down to help up the little boy that had just run around the corner and bumped into his legs. The impact had caused the boy to fall on his backside in the dust at Vin's feet.
Vin halfway expected the child to start bawling any second, so was caught off guard when laughing blue eyes were raised to stare at him. The boy's black hair fell over his forehead and hung down into his eyes and he kept pushing it back with a chubby little hand as he cheerfully watched the man standing over him. Vin could find no trace of the fear he expected from the child at being knocked down by a stranger. If the boy's wide smile was any indication he was neither hurt nor scared. Vin squatted to bring himself down to the child's level, and returned the smile.
“You okay, son?” he asked anyway, just to be sure.
The boy giggled and reached over to grab Vin's arm and used it to pull himself back to his feet.
“Mama's comin',” the child said, the smile still very much in evidence.
“Is she now?” Vin felt his own face muscles stretch even more as his grin widened at the undiluted delight radiating from the boy.
The little head nodded vigorously, causing the long bangs to fall into his eyes again. Vin laughed and pushed the hair back again.
“Is she lookin for you, or are you lookin' for her?” Vin asked.
The child threw a look over his shoulder and started jumping up and down in excitement before throwing himself into Vin's arms and wrapping both tiny arms around the man's neck.
“Bucklin James Wilmington!” A woman's harried voice preceded her. Vin looked up and watched as a rather pretty, dark-haired woman approached. She stopped before the man still kneeling on the ground with her son's arms locked on to him, and stood with her hands on her very shapely hips. “I told you play time was over. It's time for your bath.”
“Don't wanna bath,” Buck said turning his head to grin at his mother, enjoying this new game and feeling safe from maternal wrath in the blond man's arms.
“You may not want a bath, but you're going to have one,” his mother informed him.
“Ma'am,” Vin ducked his head respectfully.
“Thank you for catching him for me,” She answered with a smile, “He usually loves baths but for some strange reason he's been resisting having to take one. This is the third time I've had to chase him down. I don't quite know what to do with him.” The woman said the last with exasperation. Vin could hear the deep love this woman bore for the boy behind the surface irritation and had to smile at her
“Well, sometimes little fellers just got to be contrary. Don't got to have a reason for it. Just is. Can only hope they outgrow it,” Vin told her.
“So how long did it take you to out grow it?” She asked archly.
Vin laughed, and the boy in his arms laughed out loud in response.
“I'll let you know when it happens,” he joked and the woman broke down and joined him.
“My name is Emma Wilmington and this little rascal is my son, Buck.”
Vin tugged at his hat respectfully in acknowledgment and said, “Vin Tanner. Pleased to meet ya.”
“And I you Mr. Tanner. If you hadn't come along I would still be chasing this scamp all over town,” She said reaching down to tousle the boy's hair and smiling affectionately.
“Happy to help,” Vin assured her and stood up with the boy still clinging to his neck determinedly.
“Buck, say hello to Mr. Tanner.”
“H'llo,” Buck said and pasted a big, wet kiss on the blonde's cheek.
Unbelievably touched for some reason, Vin gave the boy a hug in return.
“Howdy, Buck. You about ready to go get that bath now?” Vin asked.
Buck shook his head vigorously. “Wanna stay wif you.”
“Bucklin…” his mother drew out his name in warning.
Pleading, blue baby-eyes stared straight into Vin's and the man felt his heart melt as the child begged, “Please?”
Unable to resist the boy, Vin looked at the child's mother and said, “I could help you give him a bath if it'd make it easier for ya.”
Emma Wilmington weighed this for moment, watching the man in front of her and how he reacted to her son and made a decision.
“I would appreciate it, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.”
“No trouble at all, ma'am,” Vin assured her. “I don't have much to do right now but wait. It would help me pass the time, in fact.”
“Then I accept your offer. This way,” Emma said.
Vin was more than a little surprised when the woman led him around to the back of one of the local saloons and climbed the stairs on the outside of the building to the small porch leading to the rooms on the second floor. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door and led him inside. They made their way down a dimly lit hall to the last door which Emma unlocked too. Vin took note of the tidy, well-kept room. He didn't say anything about the frilly red and black satin dress that had been hung on a hook beside the dressing table. Apparently he didn't have to because Emma turned to face him, her hands once more on her hips as she faced him down.
“I work as a singer in the saloon downstairs,” She informed him with defiant pride.
Vin took his time answering the woman, trying to choose words that would show her he didn't judge her choice of professions.
“Must be hard having to work and raise a young'un, too,” he said carefully.
“I take care of Bucklin just fine,” She said defensively. “I'm a good mother!”
“Yes, ma'am!” Vin hurriedly spoke, “I can see that. He's a real good kid. You done a good job raisin' him. I didn't mean to make it sound like you didn't. I just meant…”
“I'm sorry, Vin,” Emma said as she came close enough to touch his arm in regret. “I shouldn't have jumped on you with both feet like that I get so much disapproval from the people around here that I guess I'm a little gun-shy. I just automatically assume that other people are judging me. I apologize. I hate it when people jump to conclusions about me and here I did the same thing to you. I'm so ashamed of myself.”
Vin smiled and told her, “No hard feelin's. I know what it's like.”
“I imagine you do,” Emma said quietly, at last acknowledging that she knew who he was and had heard the story being circulated.
Vin, eager to change the topic, turned to look at he boy watching the adults with smiling patience. “Well how about that bath, little Buck?”
Buck frowned at him and indignantly corrected, “I'm a BIG boy!”
Vin reined in his smile and looked at the child seriously. “So you are. Sorry about that, Bucklin. So, are you ready for your bath?”
“You gonna stay wif me?” Buck asked suspiciously.
“Yep.” Vin confirmed.
“'Kay,” Buck agreed and wiggled to get down.
Vin carefully set the child on his feet and watched as the boy went to the dresser and tugged open the bottom drawer. He pulled out a long white sleeping gown and a clean set of drawers, then sat on the floor and used both feet to close the dresser drawer again. The child jumped up and hurried back to his new friend.
“Ready!” Buck said proudly as he held the clothes up for Vin to see.
7777777
The little group left the room -Vin once more carrying Buck- and Emma led the procession down another set of stairs to the kitchen area that was set behind the saloon's main hall. Raucous music and increasingly loud voices could be heard emanating from the saloon as the early evening crowd started to grow. On reaching the kitchen, they were greeted by a graying, stooped-shouldered old woman who was shuffling around the large kitchen in her bare feet.
"So you finally found the rascal, did you?" the woman's asked gruffly. Despite the tone of voice, Vin could see the twinkle of affection in the woman's eyes as she looked at the little boy.
"I'm gonna take a bath now, Miz Molly," Buck informed the woman with his usual exuberant smile. "Mr. Vin is gonna help. He likes me."
Vin felt like he was standing naked as the shrewd old eyes looked him up and down. He evidently passed muster.
"Heard you was back in town," the woman informed him, before turning to the stove and reaching for a kettle of water that had been heating there and took it over to the hip bath that had been waiting for Buck. She poured some of the hot water into the tub, mixing it with the cool water that she had already poured in and then reached down to stir the water with one wrinkled hand as she looked up at Vin and continued.
"I r'member you from when you use to stop here on your way to other places. Never seemed the type to me to kill a man in cold blood. Can't say I was real surprised when I heard you was innocent."
Vin was gratified to receive the vote of confidence and smiled gratefully at the old woman saying, "Thank ya kindly, ma'am. I surely do appreciate you saying that."
The woman gave a snort and replied, "Don't need no thanks for telling the truth." Apparently deciding the subject had been exhausted the woman turned her attention to the little boy bouncing happily in the tracker's arms.
"You just gonna sit on his hip all night or come take your bath, boy?"
For a minute it looked like Buck was giving serous consideration to remaining right where he was, so Vin pretended to drop him, setting off a peal of delighted laughter from Buck. Vin set the child's feet on the floor.
"Man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do, right pard?" Vin grinned at the child and held out a hand. Buck quickly slipped his own into it.
"Right!" Buck grinned right back at him.
"Let's get it done then."
Under the watchful eyes of the two women, Vin helped the boy unbutton and remove his tiny clothes and step into the hip bath. Vin was quick to forestall Buck's attempted jump into the filled tub with a hand on the boy's shoulder.
Buck stood looking up at him in question for a moment and Vin said, with a grin to take the sting out of the reprimand, “Take it easy there, Buck. Let's try to keep the water in the tub. It don't do you much good on the floor.”
“ 'Kay Mr. Vin,” Buck said with a shrug. He didn't see the point since the water all wound up on the floor by the time he was done with his bath anyway, but if his new friend wanted it that way he would oblige him…this time anyway.
“Make sure ya wash behind them ears good,” the old woman called out to the boy as she approached with a wash cloth and towel that she handed to the man kneeling on the floor beside the tub. “Last time you had enough dirt back there to grow your own taters.”
Vin thanked Molly for the towel and cloth with a smile before returning his attention to the boy in the tub. For all that Buck had tried to postpone his bath time, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. As the tracker dipped the wash cloth into the water and starting rubbing a bar of soap with it, Buck threw his little hands down in the warm water with glee, repeatedly causing the water to splash onto his face and chest and making him giggle. Vin was unprepared when the boy suddenly jumped up and stood in the bath, his arms held out wide, a huge grin splitting his face as he twisted from the waist giving everyone a good view of his unclothed body.
“Look, Mr. Vin! I'm naked! BUCK-naked!” the little boy dissolved into laughter, delighted by his own joke.
Vin couldn't contain his snort of amusement as he watched the child so innocently enjoying his own nudity. A very clear groan sounded from the boy's mother.
“I swear if I ever get my hands on the one that taught you that, I'm going to wring their neck but good!” Emma said shaking her head in motherly exasperation.
“You got no shame, boy,” Molly told the child with a crooked smile that showed several missing teeth. “You'd walk around all day without a stitch on if your mother would let you, wouldn't you?”
“Please! Don't give him any ideas,” Emma teased. “He comes up with enough on his own.”
Vin took advantage of Buck's position and began washing the boy's back with the cloth. Buck wiggled playfully and Vin had to smile at the giggles that continued to tumble from the child. Buck obligingly turned whenever Vin asked him, or lifted arms and legs so crevices, toes, and pits could be properly washed. The ears were a little more difficult as the tiny body just couldn't seem to stand still long enough for Vin to do more than swipe at them.
The all-too-often serious tracker was enjoying the bath as much as the boy. Vin had never been around too many children Buck’s age. He had always believed a child didn't really start to get interesting until they were old enough to ride and start hunting and fishing. Small children had always been things to shuffle off back to their parents as soon as possible, but little Bucklin Wilmington was shattering all his prior reservations on being around little kids. The boy had a joy of life and a wide-eyed sense of fun that Vin found himself drawn to.
The shaman of the tribe Vin had lived with for a while when he was younger had once told him that every man had a soul and each soul had a light that shone from it that helped to light the universe. He told him that the night stars were souls of others that had gone ahead to light the way for The People still making their journey in the world. Some souls were bright with goodness and love. Some were dim with misery and evil. Looking at the boy who was staring back at him so trustingly- inviting him to share in the simple joy taken from the everyday pastime- Vin knew that Buck's young soul must have been able to light up half of that universe all by itself.
Young Buck was beginning to shiver as he stood in the tub and Vin reluctantly knew the very pleasant interlude was coming to an end. He reached for the towel and wrapped it around the boy. He rubbed the little body dry and assisted him from the hip bath. He watched fondly as the boy wiggled his way into his drawers and nightgown then stood in front of the tracker with his arms stretched wide waiting for Vin to pick him up once more. Vin was more than happy to oblige.
“That wasn't so bad, was it, son?” Vin asked and gently pinched the boy's chin.
“Nuh-uh,” Buck agreed, “That was fun! Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Sharp pain flashed through Vin as he thought about how uncertain his tomorrow was likely to be, but he pushed the sad thought away not wanting to let it spoil the moment.
“Don't rightly know where I'll be tomorrow, pard,” Vin answered truthfully.
Buck thought this statement over with a frown for a moment then threw his arms around Vin's neck in a tight hug. The child drew back and pressed his nose against Vin's saying, “But if you're here can we do it again?”
Vin was saved from answering by Emma who stepped up and lifted the boy from the tracker's arms.
“That's enough, Buck. It's time for you to go to bed. Say thank you to Mr. Tanner then say goodnight.”
“Thank you Mr. Vin,” Buck said dutifully, leaning over and planting a big, smacking kiss on the man's lips. “Goodnight... but can we?”
Vin grinned at the boy's determination and laughed out loud as Emma began to scold the unrepentant child.
“I'm afraid you'll have to excuse us, Mr. Tanner. It's time for Buck to get to bed and me to get to work. Thank you for all your help,” Emma told him when she eventually wound down enough to remember her own manners.
“It was my pleasure, ma'am,” Vin assured her with a smile, aware of exactly how true the words were. “Night, Buck.”
Buck waved to Vin over his mother's shoulder as she walked away. The room seemed to get smaller and dimmer with the child's departure. Vin didn't hear the sigh that unconsciously escaped him as he watched the mother and son leave.
“Hard not to like that pair, ain't it,” Molly's rough voice drew his attention from the now empty doorway.
“Yes, ma'am,” Vin agreed.
“She's a good woman in spite of what you might hear from some folks around here.” The old woman looked at him, her eyes filled with protectiveness for the absent woman and child. “She ain't that kind of woman.”
Vin blushed slightly and quickly shook his head in denial of the unspoken accusation.
“I know that, ma'am. I wasn't… I wouldn't…” Vin stammered.
An amused look filled the woman's face as she watched him blithering. Taking pity on him she said, “Alright then. Just thought it was best to clear that up from the start. That woman's had it rough and she don't need you comin' along and makin' it harder for her. She got her hands full as it is. There's plenty in this town that'd like to see her fall on her face. She's balancin' on the edge of trouble all the time and she don't need you to give her a push over it.”
“I ain't lookin for trouble or lookin' to cause trouble for nobody,” Vin told her seriously.
“Thing about trouble is it don't matter if you're lookin' for it or not. It can still find ya,” Molly warned.
7777777
Vin watched the street below his rented room from his perch on the roof and waited patiently. He'd already spent the last half hour stretched out on his belly on the rooftop. He was prepared to wait all night if need be. He had been sitting at the table, quietly finishing the dinner Molly had served him in the kitchen of the busy saloon when Emma had flown in through the door.
“Vin!” she said in relief, her eyes still wide with fear.
Vin immediately stood up and reached for her, placing a gentle hand on each of her arms, and held her steady. In the two days that had passed since Vin had arrived in the town, the tracker had become good friends with the lovely saloon singer and her little boy. Vin and Buck hit it off right away. Buck had taken to following the man around like a puppy. Vin had been spending all his time at the saloon as a result of this, afraid the boy might get hurt if someone took a notion to extract a little justice for Vin's believed past deeds before Judge Monroe cleared him. He'd even struck up a loose kind of friendship with the saloon's crotchety cook.
“What is it?” Vin asked with concern. “Are you alright? Somebody botherin' you?”
“No, no!” She hastened to reassure him. “I'm fine. It's you that's in danger!”
Grateful the woman was unharmed; the tracker led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Take your time and tell me what's got you so riled up,” Vin told her as he knelt on one knee by her chair and took her hands in his own.
“I was heading up to check on Buck, when I heard Seth Kincaid and his friends talking. They're going to break into your room tonight when you go to sleep and hang you! Vin, you have to leave. You have to go right now!”
It was inevitable that Seth would hear the news of his return. The only surprising thing about it was that it had taken this long for it to reach him. Vin sighed and gave her hands a squeeze before rising to his feet to pace.
“I can't leave, Emma,” Vin told her. “I have to stay until Judge Monroe hears from Judge Travis. I told the man I would. I gave him my word. I can't break it.”
“But they'll kill you! It's not worth your life.”
Vin smiled at the worried woman and returned to kneel by her side again. “When I was little my Ma got sick… real sick…putrid fever. Before she died she called me to her bedside to tell me to always remember that I was a Tanner. She always told me stories when I was just a pup about all the brave and noble things my Pa, and grandpappy and his grandpappy had done. She was always real proud to be a Tanner, and she made me proud to be one too. After I got that bounty put on my head the only thing I had left was my name. That made it even more special for me than before. I can't dishonor that name by going back on my word. I'm sorry, but I just can't.”
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
Vin grinned at her and replied, “Improvise. My friend Ezra taught me that fancy word. That means you make it up as you go along.”
“Vin,” Emma sighed, “This is serious!”
“I know, Emma,” he tried to assure her. “It ain't the first time I been in a situation like this.”
“Just promise me you'll be careful.”
“Always am,” he told her.
“I wouldn't like to see you get hurt, Vin.”
“I appreciate that. And I owe you for the warning...and a Tanner always pays his debts. If you ever need my help, all you got to do is send word and I'll come. My word as a Tanner,” he told her seriously.
Touched, the woman reached out and ran her palm over his stubbly jaw and said, “And a Tanner always keeps his word.”
“You learn quick,” said Vin as he smiled and grasped her hand in his, pressing it tightly against his face for a moment then letting go.
“I'd best go get ready for Seth's surprise party,” he told her right before he picked up his hat from the table and jammed it back on his head. “Wouldn't want to disappoint 'em by not having the guest o' honor show up.”
Molly, who had been silently listening to them talk, spoke up. "I'm makin' hotcakes for breakfast in the mornin'," she told him with a glare, "I don't wanna be wastin' any so you best make sure you show up on time in the mornin'."
Vin tugged at the brim of his hat, touched at the woman's concern even though it had been cloaked in her usual brusque and gruff manner.
He had slipped out the back door of the saloon into the alley that ran behind it and disappeared into the darkness. The urge was strong to stand up to the men who wanted to hang him, but he knew that was just plain foolishness. Pride may have wanted him to confront the men on his own, but Vin had lived as long a he had by knowing when to give pride its head an when to rein it in. As much as it might gall him to do it, he knew he needed to ask for help with this one. He really wished his friends were there to back him up. He'd gotten used to having five men standing beside him when trouble came calling, but at the same time he was glad they weren't. He'd never forgive himself if one of them were injured because of his past.
The way he saw things, the odds were against him. There was no way to tell just how many friends Seth Kincaid had corralled to help him lynch Vin. He knew he was good in a fight but there was a limit to the number of men he could take on by himself. Then either the men would manage to overpower him and he'd wind up with his neck stretched or he'd have to kill one or more of his attackers in order to save himself. That wouldn't go over very well with the rest of the townsfolk. Most of the town's citizens were still watching him with cautious eyes; not yet knowing if the stories they had been hearing were true but willing to hold off on deciding about him until they heard from the Judge. Vin knew it wouldn't take much to have the whole town screaming for his blood again. With his prize so close Vin couldn't take the risk. So he did the only thing he could do: he went to see the Sheriff.
Sheriff Waters had not been too pleased with him, but the man knew his duty and always performed it to the best of his ability. The sheriff had ordered Vin to let him handle it and the tracker had reluctantly agreed. Waters had taken the key for Vin's room from him and sent Vin back to the saloon to wait for him. Vin was prepared to let the Sheriff handle things his way, but he wasn't prepared to let the man face a bunch of drunks looking to lynch a man by himself. So Vin had pretended to go along with the sheriff until the man was out of sight and then slipped in to the stable to gather a few of his things before he hurried behind his rooming house and shimmied up onto the roof. The sheriff might not want his help, but Vin was going to cover his back anyway. That's how he came to be laying on the rooftop.
Vin stilled as he heard a clang from the dark yard below followed by a loud “Ummph”. A lowly growled “Quiet!” immediately followed.
Listening closely, Vin could hear the shuffling, stumbling footsteps of several men although he couldn't make out their shapes in the deep darkness of the shadows that ran along the side of the rooming house. A barely muffled “Damn!” and “Watch where you're stepping!” gave testament to the fact that the not-so-stealthy group below was having just as much difficulty seeing in the gloom. The sudden sound of someone retching and a slurred “Damn it, Red! That's my boot you're puking on!” let the hidden listener know that at least some in the group were indeed drunk.
Vin heard the sound of boots on the wooden porch of the building below him and several rather loud “Shhh”s followed by the strident sound of the front door creaking open. This set off another round of shushes. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Vin thought he might laugh himself right off the roof.
The group stepped inside and Vin's hearing was not able to track them well. He strained to listen for any sound coming from the room directly below his position and it wasn't long before he heard the door as it crashed open under the force of someone's boot and smacked into the wall with a loud bang. Vin could hear the rumble of footsteps running into the room toward what he would guess was his bed.
“Hey! Nobody's here!” one man yelled in frustration on finding the bed empty.
“Not quite,” Sheriff Water's voice could be heard and a light suddenly filled the room.
Vin silently slipped off the roof onto the balcony right outside his room and looked inside, careful to keep hidden. He saw a group of about 6 men standing with their hands in the air. Vin turned his head to find the sheriff across the room from them by the empty wardrobe where he had apparently hidden a lighted kerosene lamp. He must have opened the door of the wardrobe, spilling the light out into the eyes of the startled lynch mob. The sheriff was holding his six shooter in his right hand and a sawed off double barreled shotgun in his left, and both where pointed at the suddenly quiet group of men.
“You boys are in a heap of trouble,” Waters growled. “You all know better than this. We're a law abiding town here, remember. We don't do around lynching a man…especially one that may be innocent.”
“That's a load of manure,” a large set, brunette man bite out angrily. “Tanner ain't innocent! He's guilty! Guilty of killin' my brother, and you're just gonna let him walk away. Well, I won't. He killed Jess and he's gonna pay for that!”
“You're gonna do nothing, Seth,” Waters replied, his voice low but his tone letting the man know he meant business. “It's up to the Judge to decide whether this new evidence is true or not, not you. Until the Judge decides differently, Tanner is off limits. Do you hear me, Seth? I hear of you just THINKIN' about going after him, and I'll you lock up.”
“Lock ME up! Lock ME up!” Seth Kincaid's angry voice shouted at the sheriff. “If that don't beat all. You let a known murderer walk the streets free and you'd lock me up? Nu-uh. No way! Tanner had a trial and he was found guilty and sentenced to hang. If you won't do your duty then it's up to the rest of us to do it for ya.”
Water's gave a tired sigh and said, “You always was dumber than dirt, Seth Kincaid. Alright then, you won't listen to reason then you and the boys get to spend the night in jail thinking about it. Move.” The sheriff nodded toward the door starting off a ring of protest from the rest of the group which the man ignored motioning toward the door with the shot gun this time.
Vin could follow the progress of the group by the loud protests still being called out as they made their way down the stairs and outside. Vin had gotten ready, knowing that at least some of the men might decide to try and make a run for it in the darkness. As the group emerged from the building, Vin could almost read the exact instant it dawned on two of the prisoners that escape might be possible. Just has they started their move to dash into the dark, Vin rose and threw one of the blankets from his bedroll out wide and then the other. He watched with a grin as the blankets fell and landed over the heads of the two trying to run. The men yelled in startled fear as something seemed to drop on them out of a clear sky and entangle them. Both started furiously trying to fight off their attacker. Vin saw the quick glance Sheriff Waters gave him before turning his attention back to his prisoners.
“I don't know where you thought you were going, Red, or you either, Sam. I know where you two live. I'd have just gone to your houses and drug you back to jail if you'd gotten away,” the sheriff told the two men now sitting on the ground after falling down in their struggles to release themselves from the blankets. “Get up and let's go.”
Vin remained where he was as the sheriff marched the men to the jail and disappeared inside. He lowered himself from the balcony and lithely dropped into the street then sauntered over to retrieve his blankets. He shook them vigorously to remove the dirt sticking to them and laid them over his left arm He stood for a moment surveying the town. Assured that all was quiet again he slipped inside the stable and returned his blankets to his trail gear them made his way back to the saloon.
His quiet knock on the back door was answered with Molly's usual gruff, “It ain't locked, and I ain't no maid,” so Vin pushed the door open and entered the fragrant kitchen.
“Still in one piece, are you?” Molly half asked.
Vin smiled at the well camouflaged concern and reassured her, “Yep. I'm a hard one to kill.”
Molly's amused snort was followed by, “Well I'd say you proved that one, right enough. I got a peach pie just outta the oven. You wanna piece?”
Vin's smile lit up the room, “Yes ma'am! I ain't never found anything that could come close to your peach pie.”
Flattered and desperately trying not to show it, Molly scoffed, “Peach pie is peach pie. You best go put somebody's mind at ease while I cut you a piece.” Molly nodded over her shoulder at the door leading into the saloon hall and said, “She's been worryin' herself half to death about you.”
“She had no call to,” Vin said, touched that his new friend would care so much for his safety. “I'll go let her know I'm fine…then I'll be back for that pie.” Vin tipped his hat at the woman with a smile and made his way out front.
He stood in the shadowed hall for a moment watching the crowd of happy revelers, gauging possible danger before slipping out just enough to be seen by anyone looking that way. Across the room, Emma was standing beside an upright piano singing to the piano player's accompaniment. Vin looked appreciatively on the vision she made standing there in her scarlet dress with just a hint of her black lace petticoats showing. Her alabaster skin seemed to glow against the background of the strongly colored dress. Her jet black hair had been piled on her head, leaving only a few small ringlets to fall on either side of her face. Vin could see the relief in her crystal blue eyes all the way from across the room when she spotted him standing there watching her. The professional smile on her lips gave way to a beautifully sincere one as she looked at him. Vin tugged on his hat brim and nodded to let her know he was alright. Emma nodded in acknowledgement then resumed her role and returned her attention to her audience. Vin slipped back into the kitchen…and his waiting piece of pie.
He was just finishing up --trying to keep himself from picking up his dish and licking the last of the pie filling off-- when Emma walked in.
“Quite a crowd tonight,” she said tiredly. She motioned Vin back down when he started to rise, and she pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down. She slipped her feet into one of the other chairs and sat back, glad to be off her feet for a little while. “So you made it back in one piece?”
Vin just nodded and smiled.
“I'm glad,” Emma returned the smile. “I don't have enough friends that I can afford to lose one.”
“You won't,” he assured her.
Emma laughed, “You men! You all think you're invincible or something.”
“Not invincible, just smart,” he replied with a half smile.
Emma laughed again, “So what happened?”
Vin quietly filled her in on the night's activities.
“I hope your troubles get resolved soon, Vin,” she told him. “You're a good man. You deserve to have your life back.”
Vin gazed into the troubled blue eyes watching him and decided the time was right to broach the subject that had been plaguing him since he had met the lovely woman.
“I'm not one to go stickin' my nose where it don't belong, but…” Vin began then broke off, not sure if he wanted to possibly risk this woman's friendship by continuing with his questions.
Emma watched knowingly as he struggled with himself and then told him, “Go ahead, Vin. Ask. I know you want to. I don't mind telling you, but I ask that it go no farther.”
“Where's Buck's father?” Vin asked.
He watched as Emma's gaze dropped to the table, and he reached out to clasp one of her hands with his.
“Buck's father is dead,” Emma whispered.
“What happened?”
Emma sighed then looked straight at him and answered, “One of the men that he foreclosed on shot him.”
“I'm so sorry, Emma.”
She nodded in acceptance of his condolences then continued, “I met Beau Chesterton when I was only seventeen years old. He was twenty five; rich, handsome, charming. He was everything a young girl's dreams were made of, and he wanted me. I was nowhere near his level socially. My parents only owned a dry goods store. His father owed the bank, the hotel and half the county. He was sent away to school in London. I went to the one room school house in town. We were so completely opposite but I couldn't see that as a deterrent at that age. I could hardly believe it when he started courting me.
Then his father found out about it. To say he was less than pleased was an understatement. He had big plans for his son, and they didn't include making a marriage to a girl with no social connections and no dowry. He threatened to disinherit Beau if he continued to see me. In an act of pure rebellion, Beau swept me away and we were married, but secretly. Beau may have wanted to thumb his nose at his father but he didn't want to lose his inheritance either. That's when I should have realized how weak Beau actually was, but I thought it was sweet and romantic. We were two star crossed lovers just like Romeo and Juliet, only we were going to have our happy ending. I was so naïve. Beau moved me to a neighboring town and bought us a house. I stayed there and he pretended that he had buckled under to his father's demands. We continued like that for about six months when I found out I was expecting Buck.”
Vin watched as Emma's smile turned tender and her hand unconsciously rested on her flat stomach as she reminisced.
“I was so excited, and I knew Beau would be too. I caught the next stage back home and rushed to the bank where Beau worked to tell him our good news. I didn't realize his father was in his office when I rushed in and practically threw the announcement at him. Well of course his father assumed I was his mistress and was trying to trap him into marriage. The man made it crystal clear that there was no way he would allow his son to marry someone like me just to give my “bastard” a name. He…he said if Beau wanted to continue sleeping with me on the side after he was married that was one thing, but I had better not expect anything else ever. I stood there looking at Beau, waiting for him to tell his father the truth, to defend me…but he didn't. He just stood staring out the window as if he didn't see either me or his father and couldn't hear all the horrible things his father was saying to me. I was so angry by this time that I simply turned and walked away. I caught the next stage back home.
It was a week before Beau showed up, full of apologies and ranting about how his father couldn't tell him what to do. He was more than a little surprised when I refused to forgive him. We got into a horrible fight and he left. That was the last time I ever saw him.”
Emma swallowed back tears and continued, “He continued to send money for the bills, and wrote letters asking for me to take him back. I wrote back that he wasn't welcome until he was man enough to tell his father about us. I should have realized that he was never going to be man enough to stand up to his father.
I sent him a letter when Buck was born. He sent me one back saying he wanted to come see him. We made plans for him to come one Sunday for dinner. We were going to discuss names for the baby, among other things, since I hadn't named him yet. Beau insisted on having a say in choosing his name and I knew as his father that was only fair. But the Friday before Beau was supposed to come he was killed. When he didn't show up I thought he'd changed his mind. I didn't find out until later. It wasn't until I got a visit from his brother that I found out the truth.
Charles was Beau's younger brother. He came to see me one night. He told me Beau had left a will in which he declared our marriage, claimed his son, and left all his estate to his son. Charles wasn't…happy… with this news. He had imaged himself his father's only heir now that Beau was gone and he wanted to keep it that way. He knew Beau had always been their father's favorite and that the man would want Beau's son- as the only piece of Beau still living- to replace what he had lost. Charles wouldn't allow that. He…he tried to kill Buck! He was reaching into Buck's cradle to strangle him when I struck him on the back of his head with the poker. I tied him up and gagged him.
I knew there was no way I could win if I went up against the Chesterton family. They had too much money, and too much power. Beau's father would surely take Buck away from me. He would try to force him into the mold he fashioned for him. I had seen what kind of men he molded and I didn't want my son to become one. I also knew Buck would never be safe from Charles either. The man would keep trying to kill him until he succeeded…so I ran.
I packed up as much as I could, sold what I could, and then I took the money and ran. I've been running ever since. I know the Chestertons are still looking for us. Three times in the last year I've had to slip out of towns because their investigators had tracked me. I know it's only a matter of time before they find me again and I'll have to take Buck and run.”
Emma looked at Vin and the sadness in her eyes made him want to smash the men hounding her. Vin interlaced his fingers with hers.
“So your name's really Chesterton, hmm?” he asked.
“I suppose so, although I've used so many different ones that it's hard to remember that sometimes,” was her rueful answer.
“How long have you been in Tascosa?” he asked, tilting his head to one side and looking at her in curiosity.
“Four months now,” was the sad reply. “That's the longest time I've gotten to stay in one place in over two years. I know I'll have to move on soon. I really hate it that I have to do that to Buck. He's made a lot of friends here. He's always so upset when he has to leave them. It's just not FAIR,” she cried. “He should have a stable home, not be forced to keep running for his life. He's only a little boy! It just isn't right that someone should want to hurt him!”
Vin watched helplessly as tears began to flow from the woman's eyes. Keeping hold of her hand and he pulled her around the table and stood to take her into his arms. Her soft sobs tore at his heart as she cried against his chest. He wrapped his arms around Emma and held her, giving her what comfort he could, but knowing it would never be enough.
The pair stood quietly in the middle of the kitchen. Eventually the storm of weeping subsided and Emma pulled back, swiping at her eyes with her hands.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I shouldn't have burdened you with all that. You have enough trouble on your own plate right now without me heaping mine onto it.”
Vin gave her a little shake and answered, “Now don't go spoiling it. You gave me your friendship and a friend don't ever have to apologize for telling a friend their troubles.”
Emma gave a hiccupping little smile and replied, “You make a good friend, Vin. I'm glad you're one of mine.”
“And I'm glad I met you, too. I never thought coming back to this place would be one of the best things I ever did in my life, but that's what it turned out to be what with meetin' you and little Buck and all.”
The two stood looking at each other in emotion-filled silence for several long moments. The pitty-pat of little feet on the wooden steps leading from the rooms above finally broke the spell and the two pulled away from each other as a spiked-haired Buck entered the kitchen rubbing his sleepy eyes with one fist. His other arm was wrapped tightly around the rag doll his mother had made for him for his third birthday. Vin couldn't help the smile that broke out at the sight of the little one standing there in his nightgown looking absolutely adorable.
“Hey, pard,” Vin said gently as he moved toward the child and picked him up, “What are you doin' outta bed at this time of night?”
Buck wrapped his arm around Vin's neck and held on tight. “The bad mans woked me up.”
“What bad men?” Emma asked, maternal alarms going into overdrive.
“The bad mans in the ward'obe,” Buck answered sleepily. “They woked me up. Tell the bad mans to go 'way, Mr. Vin.”
Vin shared a glance with the worried mother. Before he had heard the woman's story he would have dismissed it as just a child's dream, but now he couldn't. Vin handed the child back to his mother.
“I'll check it out,” he told her quietly and left the kitchen.
He made his way up the stairs and down the hall using all the stealth he had learned in his years as a tracker to remain silent. Vin carefully turned the door knob and pushed the door open just enough to look inside. He slowly opened it bit by bit as he surveyed the room's interior, but saw nothing. The room was empty. Vin finally entered the bedroom and checked the small wardrobe finding nothing out of the ordinary. He wandered around the rest of the room but could find nothing to suggest anyone had been in the room except the sleeping boy.
Vin still had a bad feeling. He didn't know if it was something real or because Emma had just finished telling him her story, but he was uneasy. Those tiny hairs on the back of his neck that always warned him when danger was near were stirring. Vin told himself he would have to keep an eye on Emma and Bucklin. Like Emma, he didn't have so many friends that he could afford to lose any.
7777777
The closer Chris Larabee got to Tascosa the higher the pressure of his temper built. Anyone would think that after several weeks on the trail that temper would have subsided but that wasn't Chris Larabee's way. He had managed to bank his anger on the trip --for which his trail partner, Ezra Standish, was fully appreciative -- but the knowledge that the man they had chased halfway across the western territories was getting nearer caused that temper to rise from the slow simmer it had been kept at on the journey to a its current raging boil. Tanner was a dead man when he got a hold of him…if he wasn't already Chris thought to himself. That was the fuel feeding his anger: the fear that Vin was already dead. And he hadn't been there to help him. He hadn't been ALLOWED to help him. Chris' temper burned a shade hotter with the thought. Damn independent Texan.
Ezra, peacekeeper and resident gambler of Four Corners, had wisely kept his own thoughts to himself for the last day as he watched his leader's temper build to what he considered to be dangerous levels. Ezra enjoyed baiting his leader, and had been known to take it so far as to have the man throwing punches at him, but even he knew not to provoke the man when he got like this unless he was willing to risk life and limb. Ezra was many things but a fool wasn't one of them. Conversation for the past day had been practically nil. Ezra had kept silent and answered only when Chris spoke first, being very careful to keep his answers simple and to the point. When Larabee finally blew he didn't want to be in the way. No, he wanted all that anger to find its true target. After all Mr. Tanner deserved everything he had coming for pulling his disappearing act.
The dust swirled around the horse's feet with every step as the two rode into Tascosa. By unspoken agreement the two men headed for the building with the sign out front proclaiming it to be the jail. They drew their horses to a stop and dismounted, tying up the reins on the hitching post in front of the jail. They stepped up onto the covered porch, Ezra slapping ineffectually at the dust covering his jacket, and entered the jailhouse. Both men stood just inside the doorway letting their eyes adjust to the change in brightness.
“Can I help you boys?” A voice called from their right and they turned to face it. The sheriff was sitting behind a large wooden desk staring at them.
“Name's Chris Larabee. This is Ezra Standish. We're looking for a friend of ours. Vin Tanner's his name.”
Sheriff Waters studied both men carefully before answering, “How do I know you're friends and not somebody looking to collect the bounty on his head?”
“ ' Cause we know he was coming here with proof to clear his name. Proof that Eli Joe shot Jess Kincaid,” Chris told him.
“Well, a lot of people have heard that by now,” Waters informed him. “That ain't exactly proof.”
“Then he made it here? He was able to give you the letter from Judge Travis?” Chris asked sharply. “What happened to him? I swear if you let them hang him I'll…” Chris stepped forward threateningly and Ezra reached out to place a cautioning hand on the man's shoulder.
“Mr. Larabee. Perhaps it might be best if you allow the good Sheriff to explain before you beat the hell out of him? It might save time in the long run.”
Waters had not missed the look that came over the black-clad gunman as he mentioned Vin's hanging. Satisfied that they were indeed friends of Vin, the man informed them, “Judge Monroe is waiting for verification from the territorial judge before deciding to overturn the guilty verdict, but Tanner is fine. He's not even in jail. This time of day you can probably find him having lunch with Miss Emma and her son over at the saloon. Come on and I'll walk you over.”
The sheriff grabbed his hat from the rack and jammed it on his head then led the two men across the street and down the boardwalk to the saloon. There were only a few men playing poker at a table in the corner of saloon hall when the men entered through the swinging doors. A fact that immediately got the gambler's attention.
“Not now, Standish,” Chris said without even looking back at the man.
“Mr. Larabee, I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind,” Ezra tried to say indignantly.
“Right,” was Chris' unbelieving reply.
The trio headed straight to the back of the saloon and the sheriff swung open the kitchen door. There, sitting pretty-as-you-please, was the missing tracker stuffing his face with what looked to be mashed potatoes and fried chicken. Their entrance caused all the kitchen's occupants to look around in surprise.
Vin hastily swallowed and started to rise from his chair saying, “Chris! Ezra! Ah…when did you boys get here? I'm sure…”
The rest of his sentence was interrupted by the fist Chris smashed into his face. Vin stumbled backward with the force of the blow but kept on his feet.
“I knew you'd be angry,” was his rueful response.
“Angry! Angry! I'll show you angry; you low down, independent son of bit…” Chris started toward him again with clenched fists.
“No! You leave Mr. Vin alone!” A shrill little voice bellowed out taking Chris by surprise, and a little body streaked around the table and threw itself at his knees. Chris watched in astonishment as a small, black haired boy that couldn't have been anymore than three or four started beating on his knees and thighs with tiny fists. “I won't let you hurt, Mr. Vin!”
Vin swiftly grabbed the child and swept him up in his arms, capturing one still flying fist in his hand.
“Hey, Buck! It's okay! He didn't really hurt me,” Vin tried to calm the child. “He was just mad at something I did. That's just his way of letting me know about it. This here's my friend Chris, and that's my friend Ezra. They're here to take care of me, not hurt me, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” Buck threw a glare at the astonished gunslinger, still ready to defend his new friend.
“Yeah, pard. I'm sure. Come say hello,” Vin said and approached his friends again. “Chris, I'd like you to meet Buck Wilmington. Say hello to Chris, Buck.”
Still watching the gunslinger cautiously, Buck said, “Hello, Mr. Chris.”
Chris took a deep breath and reined in his temper. He pasted a small smile on his face and answered, “Hello, Buck. I'm sorry if I frightened you.”
Buck seemed to gauge his sincerity for a moment then asked, “You won't hurt Mr. Vin no more?”
“No, Buck,” Chris said and threw a sharp look at the grinning Texan. “I won't hurt Vin anymore…even though he deserves it!”
Satisfied, Buck said, “Alright,” then surprised the unsuspecting gunslinger by suddenly leaning forward out of Vin's arms and attaching himself to Chris' neck.
Chris hurriedly fumbled for a second and then caught the child, resting him on one arm. The position allowed the boy to look him straight in the eyes. Tipping his head to one side and smiling Buck asked, “Did you come to play with me too?”
Charmed in spite of himself, Chris gave a more genuine smile and said, “I came to make sure Vin stayed out of trouble. Maybe you can tell me exactly what kind of trouble he's been getting himself into?”
Buck giggled, “Are you his daddy?”
“Sometimes it feels that way,” Chris replied and threw a glare at Vin.
“You're not gonna tattle on me are you, pard?” Vin teased. “You wouldn't want me to get in trouble.”
Giggling at the thought, Buck asked, “Would you get a spankin'?”
“Oh definitely,” Chris interrupted. “A hard one. One that would make him stop and think twice about what he's doing before he takes off all by himself into dangerous situations again.”
“That's bad?” Buck asked innocently.
“Very bad,” Chris told him firmly.
Buck turned around in Chris' arms to shake a finger at Vin and scold, “You not supposed to do bad things, Mr. Vin. You gonna get a spankin'.” Buck shook his head sorrowfully. “I sorry you gonna get a spankin'. I'll let you hold my dolly if you gotta cry, Mr. Vin.”
“That's right nice of you, Buck. I may take you up on that,” Vin said as he grinned at his friends. “How about saying hello to Mr. Ezra.”
Chris turned around as Ezra approached. The gambler's easy going smile stretched wide enough for his gold tooth to show.
“Hello, Buck,” Ezra said reaching out a hand to push the dark hair out of the boy's eyes.
Buck grinned in return, “Hello Mr. Ezra. You got something in your mouth. It's all shiny.”
“So I do, my young lad. How very observant of you.” Ezra replied with a laugh.
“Mama won't let me put things in my mouth…'cept food. How come your mama let you put that in your mouth?”
“Well,” Ezra laughed, “she wasn't there at the time to tell me I couldn't.”
“You didn't get in trouble when she saw it later?” was Buck's puzzled question.
Ezra shook his head and watched as the boy processed the information.
“How come…” Buck began.
“Buck, that's enough,” Emma interrupted. “I'm sure the gentlemen are tired and just want to rest for a while.”
Vin reached out for her arm and drew Emma closer. “Boys this here's Buck's mother, Emma Wilmington. Emma these are my friends, Chris Larabee, and Ezra Standish.”
“Ma'am,” Chris tugged on his hat brim respectfully.
“An honor, I'm sure,” Ezra returned.
“Gentlemen,” Emma nodded in acknowledgment, “A pleasure to meet you. Vin has told me a lot about you.”
“Has he now?” Ezra looked at his smiling friend, “How interesting. Usually you have to wring any conversation from our Mr. Tanner. If he says more than two words in a day he's practically babbling.”
“I ain't that bad,” Vin mumbled, suddenly uncomfortable with being the topic of conversation.
“Oh I beg to differ, my friend,” Ezra teased. “You have elevated the grunt to a whole new level of communication.”
“Shut up, Ezra!” Vin snapped. Everyone but Vin laughed.
“This is Miss Molly,” Vin continued the introductions. “She makes the best peach pie that has ever been.”
“Go on with you boy,” Molly said brusquely.
Chris and Ezra both acknowledged the introduction.
“You boys just into town?” Molly asked.
“That's right,” Chris replied.
“I imagine your belly's probably stickin' to our backbone by now. You two can wash up there in the wash bowl and pull up a chair. There's plenty here for everybody,” Molly ordered. “You too, Sheriff.”
“Thank you kindly, Molly, but my wife has my lunch waiting on m