Disclaimer: All the characters
from the "Magnificent Seven" TV series are property of Trilogy
Entertainment, The Mirisch
Group, MGM Worldwide.
Prologue
Papa's Dove
The dress mocked her.
It was white, with a sweeping skirt and covered with fine
embroidered lace, the quality of which was equaled by none. The neckline
plunged enough to show her ample chest, and the bodice would cling tightly to
her impossibly slender waist when worn. It was a gown to be envied by women,
capable of dazzling even the most celibate of men. In it, she would be like the
fairy tale princess in one of those books Papa used to read her as a child. He
had wanted a dress made worthy of her on her special day, a gown that would
serve the most beautiful young bride to ever grace the halls of the family
parish church. The emerald necklace that had belonged to her mother and her
grandmother before her sat around the neck of the dressmaker's mannequin
joining the dress in its elegant display. Somewhere on her dresser was a pair
of matching earrings, equally expensive.
Equally sickening.
She rummaged through the jewelry box on her dressing table,
searching for the items of value that would accompany her on the course upon
which she had been deliberating for some time now. Ever since her father had
committed the ultimate betrayal by deciding she needed a husband. She supposed
that in the scheme of things, it was inevitable that he should reach this
terrible conclusion some day. It had been her hope to fend off this desire of his
until after he had passed on and left her the bulk of his money. With a fortune
behind her, she would be in the position to select her own husband, or none at
all.
She preferred none at all.
Her mother, whom she had never met, had passed on early in life.
Eleanor had died bringing Julia into the world, and in the moment where souls
pass each other through the threshold of life and death, wife and babe
exchanged places in Donald Avery's heart. From the moment of her first spirited
cry, the child had become her father's sole reason for being. He lavished upon
his little daughter every scrap of his time and love as proof of his undying
love for a woman who had gone too early. In her youth, she had adored the
affection that was viewed with distaste and disapproval by the rest of her
family. She enjoyed taunting them with the freedom of her unbridled lust for
life. A lust which led her to form dalliances with any man
that met her interest for she was unconcerned by the restrictions placed upon
other young women.
She was not other young women and the rules did not apply to her.
It equally aided in her manipulations of those around her, in
particular the men that happened to fall helplessly to her charms, that she was
an uncommonly beautiful creature in every superficial way. Hers was hair like
fire, yet not at all vulgar and crass, rather subtle in the way copper
shimmered under sunlight. Her emerald colored eyes showed great intelligence,
although she had never had cause to use that high-powered intellect for
anything other than her own desires. Her skin was as creamy as milk, untainted,
unaccustomed to any activity that might be considered work. She was the kind of
woman men would willingly commit all kinds of folly to possess. Her lips were
described as soft and enticing as rose petals on a lover's bed. She was created
for the sole purpose of seduction, and she knew how to be nothing else.
She wielded her power like some men commanded armies, sending
others forward to die willingly on the battlefield. For a number of years she
used the men in her life the same way. For a taste of her skin, they would do
and say anything, and she enjoyed the exultation of such power over them. It
inflamed her with a fire nothing could abate, and she had yet to meet a man she
had not believed to be a fool. It was not to say that she had no love for her
Papa. He was, after all, the only man who loved her for herself, simpleton
though he was. It was the love of a master to a faithful pet, completely
selfish on her part and undeserving on his.
By the age of 25, she had more or less fended away with good humor
all his attempts to marry her off. However, his health had started to
deteriorate and with the realization that his days were soon coming to a close,
the urgency grew to see to it that his beloved daughter was not left alone in
his departure. He wanted to spare his sweet Julia the agony of loneliness, and for the first time made a decision without
consulting her first.
His name was Roderick Packard and he was what was deemed "new
money" to the circles of blue blood society. He was not quite forty,
coarse and completely unrefined, but he was also frightfully rich and in need
of a wife who would make him acceptable to the world he to which he aspired.
From the moment Julia had met him, she knew without a doubt that she loathed
him with utter and complete hatred. The very thought of his big, rough hands on
her made the revulsion in her stomach surface with such intensity she could
barely breathe, and somehow, against all expectations, her beloved Papa had
willing promised her to him.
She accepted the proposal quietly, never allowing her father to
know just how much she hated the idea, all the while conspiring to find some
way out of it. Her relatives, enjoying what they felt was her deserved
comeuppance, had gloated over the marriage with obvious delight. Julia accepted
the situation and allowed the preparations to proceed, all the while wearing
the mask of the gracious and dutiful daughter. The wedding day drew closer, and
tomorrow she would wear this shroud of fine lace to what she considered nothing
less than living death.
Except she had no real intention of going
through with it.
Slipping all the jewelry into a small velvet box, she proceeded to
the mannequin and took the necklace to be worn during her wedding and placed it
with the others. Dropping it in the leather case containing the rest of her
belongings, Julia looked up and took a final view of the room in which she had
grown up. It was with sadness that she realized at that moment that she would
never see the room again. It had been her castle for so long, the ivory tower
where she enjoyed her best moments. Now she was forced to flee, like one of the
heroines on those romantic novels she had stopped reading after becoming a woman.
Picking up the valise, she let out a soft sigh and swept out the door, giving
the dress a parting look of hatred because it reminded her why she was
abandoning everything she knew for the unknown.
It was past
The safe was hidden behind her mother's portrait, and before she
took it from the wall, Julia paused to take a final glance at it. Her mother
stared back at her with that non-judgmental smile of hers that often gave Julia
comfort on those rare occasions her conscience had reason to bother her. She
wondered briefly what Eleanor Avery might think of her actions. Removing the
painting, she turned her attention to the safe behind it. She had retrieved the
combination a few days ago while Papa had gone to visit Roderick Packard to
discuss the fortune she would be inheriting once they married. No doubt,
Packard would have total control over it, she thought bitterly.
Working quickly, she soon had the heavy door of the vault open.
Inside were several inch high stacks of fresh, crisp bills. Papa never did
trust banks entirely and so he always kept enough in the safe to ensure his
financial security in the event the establishment attempted to leave him
penniless. She knew that there was something in the vicinity of $50,000 inside
the vault and Julia wasted no time liberating its entire contents into her
valise.
Suddenly, the room flooded with light. She spun around and saw
Papa standing before her in his nightclothes with a bewildered expression on
his face.
"Julia? What are you doing?"
There was no point in lying. Even as she decided whether or not
she would make the attempt, she could see his eyes darting from the empty safe
to the valise in her hand. Very quickly, he would guess her purpose.
"I am leaving Papa" she remarked neutrally. Julia had
hoped to avoid this encounter, but now that it was here, she supposed she owed
him the truth.
"Leaving?" he said, astonished. "You are to be
married tomorrow!" he exclaimed taking a step towards her. This too, was
something she had anticipated and her fingers slipped into the small purse she
was carrying.
"Stop where you are Papa." The derringer stared in his
face before the old man had been aware of his daughter reaching for it inside
her purse. The astonishment in his eyes defied description.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his shock
having faded now into anger.
"The meaning of this Papa," she said as she moved slowly
towards the glass doors, "is that I am leaving this place and I am never
coming home."
"But Roderick..." he stammered, quite unable to believe
that this was his cherished daughter pointing a gun at him.
"Is a pig and before I let you prostitute me to him for
whatever reason, I would rather eat this bullet first. Goodbye Papa" she
started to turn around.
"Julia!" he ran forward, "you're not leaving!"
He could not let her go! "We will talk this out!"
"No!" she said sharply, swinging back around to aim the
gun at him again. "Don't assume I won't use this Papa." The ice in
her voice was enough to convince him that she would indeed pull the trigger,
even if he could not fathom how his daughter had become this cold-blooded thief
standing before him.
"Why?" he asked, his voice starting to break.
"Why Papa?" she almost laughed at absurdity of the
question. "Why am I leaving, why won't I marry Packard or why have I taken
all your money?"
The old man could not speak. The question demanded answer but his
heart was pounding too loudly for that. He had heard the whispers and ugly
little rumors about his Julia from the others in his family and knew that their
delivery of such tales was motivated by jealousy. Until now, he had shunted all
such venomous stories to their proper place in the back of his mind. Now they
all rose up in his memory like the threat of dank water from the bottom of a
well.
"Because Papa," Julia met his gaze sharply, "I tire
of you deciding what is good for me, by your silly standards. If I choose to marry,
which I doubt I will, it will be to a man of my choosing, not yours! Your money
would have been mine if I had been born a man! It is an inheritance I would no
doubt never see if I married that pig. No Papa, I will take what is mine and I
shall go. You will never see or hear from me again. Goodbye."
With that, she turned on her heels and walked out through the
glass doors.
He watched her disappear into the night, still coming to grips
with the sting of her words. In particular, the word 'prostitute'. Is that what
she really thought of him? The anguish of that realization clutched his heart
with such pain that for a moment, Donald Avery believed he would die. Stunned,
he walked to the open vault and saw that she had only taken the money and left
the other valuables within. With trembling fingers, he closed the safe door
with a soft clang as it locked again and replaced the picture that kept it
hidden.
The agony inside his chest had not abated, even when he staggered
to his desk and sat down. He sat on the leather chair, unaware that the cold
night air was blowing through the open doors. The only thing in his mind was
how terribly wrong he was about his daughter and what the short sightedness had
cost him. He stared at the picture of his beloved wife with tears running down
his cheeks as he gazed into the emerald eyes he had seen a thousand times
before. Unlike Julia who was a slender, petite thing, Donald was round and
ungainly. His dark hair had become grey and was unruly no matter how hard he
tried to comb it. His blue eyes saw little these days and were hidden behind a
pair of steel rimmed glasses. Until this moment, he had never felt so old.
He knew without doubt she meant what she said. Julia Avery would
not grace these halls again.
He could have her brought back. However, he loved her too much to
keep her caged for too long, and the moment of release would see his dove
taking flight again. It was better not to try. Easing back into the leather
chair, he ignored the heart crying out its warning as it stiffened in pain. It
was broken he decided and there was no reason to pick up the pieces.
He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to take him away to a
place where Julia did not hate him any more.
Part One
The Wild West
"Miss Styles!" Nathan Jackson called after her.
"You can't go up there on your own!" The healer was following the
lovely young doctor as she walked down the board walk clutching her worn
doctor's bag. It was early morning in
"Look," Alexandra Styles paused and turned wearily to
Nathan, "you can't go because Mrs. Doherty won't let a man treat her. I
know the journey is a day's ride but I'll make it. How hard can it be?"
She was dressed in her riding clothes and the weather was insufferably hot for
it. Even though summer was well and truly gone, the chill had yet to settle
into the fall. In truth, she was not that good a rider and did not relish
making such a trip alone. However, Agnes Doherty, whom Alex had been seeing on
consultation, had not come in for her weekly examination. The woman had a
severe heart condition and although Alex did not know for certain, she felt
that Agnes' inability to meet her appointment today was cause for concern. She
was an old woman, on her own, and if she had hurt herself there would be no one
to help her before it was too late.
"It's through some pretty nasty terrain ma'am!" Nathan
tried desperately to convince her. "I ought to be going with you."
"But you can't" she said firmly. "There's three cases of yellow fever in this town for which
you are the attending physician, and since I'm the only one who can treat Mrs.
Doherty, I'm going to have to go." With that she resumed walking once
again.
Nathan let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head as he
continued after her. She was right of course. Even Chris Larabee
had been aware of the situation when he had taken the others to escort the
stage into town. For the past two weeks, the stage had been ambushed somewhere
along the trail from Sweet Water, and lives had been lost. Despite the leader
of the seven desiring his presence, since Vin
had taken off to Purgatory to get a lead on who might be responsible for these
robberies, Chris knew how important it was that he remained to aid the sick.
However, Nathan was not about to let her go riding off on her own
either. This was Territory where a woman, especially one as beautiful as she,
was in serious danger of coming to harm. Unfortunately, she had a healer's
instinct that was almost as strong as his, if not more, and that meant she
often went where angels feared to tread. He supposed that in the scheme of
things it was to be admired that she was so dedicated, but it was dangerous and
they both knew it.
"I appreciate the concern, Nathan" Alex smiled warmly.
Since her arrival in town, Alex finally knew what it was like to have a
brother. Nathan was like that to her. They got along so well, it was a
friendship that would be ruined if there were anything sexual about it. They
not only worked well together professionally, but also understood what it was
like to feel like an outcast for no good reason. In their kinship, they had
become more then just friends. They were family.
"You appreciate it," he retorted unhappily, "but
you gonna do this fool thing anyway."
"You got it" she winked and resumed walking down the
boardwalk, even more determined than ever.
Nathan rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself. "Good Lord give me strength."
"Howdy Nathan." Vin Tanner's
voice suddenly came up behind him. The healer jumped slightly and turned around
to offer the tracker a sharp glare.
"Will you not do that!" Nathan
barked. "If I had a gun, I might have shot you dead." The tracker had
the most annoying habit of being able to sneak up behind people without giving
away the slightest hint of his presence. Nathan supposed that came from
tracking buffalo and people, but sometimes, when his nerves were like they were
right now, Vin's ability
could just rub him the wrong way.
"Okay" Vin
took a step back looking at him with a raised brow. Nathan was not usually this
upset for no good reason. "Something
wrong?"
"No," Nathan shook his head, feeling sorry that he had
bitten at Vin like that. He
knew why he was angry and it was not Vin's
fault that he was just a naturally stealthy person. "I thought you were in
Purgatory getting leads on these robberies."
"There ain't none"
Vin frowned unhappily. "If there is, they did a
pretty good job of hiding it." He sighed. "I think I done talked to
half of Purgatory and nobody knew anything about who's been robbing these
coaches. I tell you, its like they vanish into smoke
after the job."
"My three cases of yellow fever are still pretty bad."
Nathan sighed, not being able to offer Vin
any better news. "I need to be close to town and Miss Styles has got it in
her head to ride to the Doherty place by herself to check on Miss Agnes."
"Alone?" Vin
looked at him, knowing the terrain well. The Doherty homestead was in rough
country, with craggy, uneven ground that made it an effort even for an
experienced rider to traverse, let alone an inexperienced one who was mostly
accustomed to riding in a wagon.
"Yeah." he nodded looking at the tracker unhappily.
"Mrs. Doherty won't see no one but her, so I
can't go and have her stay with the yellow fever cases" Nathan grumbled.
He glanced in the direction of the livery and saw Alex almost reaching the
public stable where her horse Calliope was kept. Suddenly an idea came to him.
"Vin, you can go with her" he
stated. "Its too late for you to meet Chris and
the others."
Vin did not like that idea at all. Not one
damn bit. "No," he said quickly stepping back as if the suggestion
was hot water scalding his skin. "She doesn't like me too much Nathan and
she won't go for it." He hoped that excuse sounded even partially
credible.
"I'm asking you to escort her on a ride," Nathan
exclaimed, "not marry her. What is it with you folks today? Has everyone
got to give me an argument?" The black man boomed before grabbing Vin by his jacket and pulling him
along as he continued walking.
"Nathan, this ain't a good
idea" Vin protested as
he was dragged down the board walk by the determined healer.
"I'm not listening to you Vin" Nathan said firmly as he towed the tracker
unwillingly to the boardwalk. He knew if he let go of Vin, the man was only going to think of a reason to
squirm out of this task. Vin
and Miss Styles had never really gotten along since her arrival in town. They
were so different that they reacted to each other like fire and oil. No matter
what the subject, it was always guaranteed to end up in an argument. Although
he did not wish to inflict their company on each other, Nathan knew that this
was the only solution. At least with Vin
escorting her, Nathan did not have to worry about any harm coming to the good
doctor. Also, Vin knew that
part of the country better than anyone else. He could make the trip go
considerably faster, which was some consolation, Nathan supposed.
By the time they arrived at the livery, Vin had exhausted every possible argument he could
think of, to not accompany Alex Styles to the Doherty place. Unfortunately,
Nathan's determination that he go was as inexhaustible as his ability to block
out those very same arguments. He merely nodded patiently and ignored every
single word that Vin had
said before repeating that Vin was going. Vin was starting to wonder if his
consent was every really an issue with the extremely irritated healer.
"Miss Styles, look who I found to go with you" Nathan
announced proudly when they found Alex saddling her horse.
Alex met Vin's
gaze briefly and then said very calmly to Nathan. "May I speak to you
outside Mr. Jackson?" Judging by the expression on her face, she was not
any happier at Nathan's suggestion than Vin
himself.
"No." Nathan shook his head, folding his arms to show
that he was immobile on this subject. "Cause you're only going to try and
talk me out of it. Vin is going with you."
"I do not need a baby sitter." Alex retorted giving Vin a look that could only be
interpreted as distaste. "What is it with you men and this chauvinistic
crap?"
"That does it" Vin
said quietly, exhaling loudly as he looked at Nathan. "Get someone else. I
just rode back from a den of thieves and outlaws, meaner than spit. I am not
going out on the trail so I can spend a whole day listening to that." He
shot Alex a filthy look, which she returned in kind. With that, he started
walking out of the building while Alex turned back to her horse.
"Freeze!" Nathan Jackson fairly roared and froze
them both in the tracks.
Slowly, Vin and
Alex turned back to Nathan and found themselves facing the healer who was
glaring at them furiously. "Now I don't care what petty snit the two of
you have got going, and I don't give a rat's ass at this moment." Nathan's
eyes darted to Vin and then
to Alex. "But you are going with her," he pointed his finger at the
tracker in no uncertain terms before turning to Alex. "You are going to
let him escort you, if I have to tie you down in the
saddle and have him lead you there!"
"Actually I'd pay to see that." Vin quipped.
Nathan silenced him with a look.
"Do I make myself clear?" He demanded, staring at them
both hard, defying them to challenge him on this point. It was not often that
Nathan exerted his temper like this, but he was hard to ignore when he was this
riled. Despite themselves, both Alex and Vin
had come to the conclusion that perhaps they were behaving a little childishly
and conceded defeat in silence.
"Yes." Alex spoke first reluctantly.
"Yeah." Vin
nodded a moment later.
"Good," Nathan smiled broadly, his pearly white teeth
against his mahogany colored skin making it almost a grin. "Now have a
pleasant trip."
The robberies had been strange from the very beginning. Stagecoach
robberies usually took place in a set pattern. Outlaws waylaid the carriage on
some forgotten track and ransacked all the passengers' belongings until they
found something of value. On very rare occasions, they shot someone if the
victim made an attempt to flee or put up a fight. Most of the time, the
passengers knew it was best to give up without a struggle to prevent any
provocation that might give the gunmen reason to fire. However, as Chris Larabee rode with the four men who were the unofficial peacekeepers
of
Most outlaws had a reputation somewhere, even if it was merely
speculation. The men who robbed the stagecoach during the past two weeks were professionals, that much Chris knew. They knew exactly who
was on the stage and they knew what they were looking for, even before they
held it up. This suggested to Chris a certain amount of discipline that came
only with experience. However, the identity of the outlaws was a guarded secret
because they did not leave anyone alive after the robbery.
The outlaws murdered everyone, including the driver during the
first robbery. There had been five people on the stage and all of them had been
shot, including a seven-year-old child. The infamy of it incensed them all, for
it was an unnecessary act of violence. Vin
had read the tracks when they found the scene and knew that there had been no
attempt to interfere with the criminals. The passengers had accepted the robbery
and allowed the outlaws to pick their belongings clean. Unfortunately, once
there was nothing left to steal, the outlaws turned their guns on the helpless
passengers and murdered every one of them.
The slaying sent shock waves throughout the area for good reason.
Every lawman from
This time, Chris Larabee was taking no
such chances. He knew that the other towns were guarding their stagecoach
trails with similar tenacity and he did not intend to let
"They should be here soon." Josiah commented, staring up
the trail from their hiding place in the trees.
"Unless someone got to them
first." JD
pointed out that grim possibility and engendered a frown from most of the older
members of the group. No one liked the idea of what that would mean. This whole
stakeout was meant to be a preventative measure, not a clean up operation.
"Always an optimistic soul ain't ya?" Buck retorted, patting the young man's back.
"Sorry." JD apologized, not wanting to sound as if he
was being a pessimist. He did not think it should be right for anyone to be
killed in cold blood the way these murderers had been doing. It left a bad
taste in his mouth thinking anyone could be so callous. He wanted to find those
men just as much as the others, it was just the
waiting that he abhorred.
"That's perfectly all right, Mr. Dunne." Ezra remarked,
understanding the boy meant no harm. He was young and felt things deeply. There
was a time when they had all felt that way, even if none wished to speak of it
aloud. "These are unscrupulous men indeed. There is no reason to assume
they may not have altered their patterns."
"What do you mean?" Josiah turned to the gambler
sharply.
"He means," Chris answered before Ezra could, his eyes
never moving off the trail of the anticipated stagecoach, "if they're
willing to kill a stage load of people to hide their identity, then they're
smart enough to change tactics to throw us off their track."
"Precisely" Ezra said with a slight tip of his hat at
his leader's direction. "Spoken like a true commander of the field."
Chris did not react to Ezra's compliment, if that indeed was what
the gambler had been aiming for, instead he remained silent as always, watching
the road and listening closely. Realistically, if the stage was ambushed, they
would only know about it if they were close enough to hear the gunshots. Chris
hoped it did not come to that.
"These varmints need stringing up" Buck said with more
venom in his voice than he normally cared to show. The outlaws had been most
indiscriminate about whom they killed and finding the bodies after their
massacre, left an image in his mind he could have lived without.
"We'll oblige them for sure." Chris said simply. "When we find them."
He could understand the feelings of those around him and knew that
these murderers had stabbed at the very heart of what they had tried to
accomplish in
The time moved by slowly, and before they knew it the stage was
late. A few minutes stretched into five and then ten. By the time it was twenty
minutes late, Chris knew he was not waiting any longer. Digging his heels into
his horse, he tore out of their hiding place giving his companions little
warning of his intentions. Nevertheless they were used to his behavior by now
and were content to merely follow him instead.
They had not traveled far when they heard gunshots in the
distance. The sound made them ride faster, racing against time as they tried to
reach the stage before it was too late. Chris, as always, was in the lead with
JD keeping pace easily. The only reason Chris had outdistanced him was because
the gunslinger had a head start. Under normal circumstances, JD was more than
capable of riding them all into the ground. Amazingly enough, this skill had
developed while the young man had lived in the east. JD's only knowledge of the
west was what he had learned from those cheap dime novels that inspired his
youthful imagination.
The terrain was dry, with the surrounding trees undergoing the
process of autumn discard. Leaves covered the ground in an array of bright,
vibrant colors. Against the backdrop of a clearer sky than any found across the
country, the effect was nothing less than breathtaking. The gunshots had
traveled some distance to reach them, but Chris knew that it was not far enough
away that they could not reach the beleaguered stage in time, if that was what
where the shots had rung.
As they neared the source of the gunfire, the shooting stopped
abruptly. It was followed by the terrified scream of a woman.
"Down there!" Chris pointed to a narrow trail away from
the main track, just narrow enough to fit the stagecoach. Thick bushes and
shrubs shrouded it and presented every indication that they had recently been
forced aside, if the leaves and broken branches was any thing to go by. If Vin was present, he would be able
to tell Chris in an instant. Unfortunately, without the benefit of the tracker,
and with the urgency of the situation now escalated, Chris was forced to go on
instinct. It would be the perfect place to divert the stage and murder its
occupants.
As they broke through the thicket, Chris became aware of hoof
beats riding away that did not belong to his companions. Straining to see
through the dense foliage in front of him, he saw riders in the distance,
making their getaway. He counted at least five, and they had seen Chris.
Immediately, they began firing and Chris crouched down low because they were
too far away to make an accurate shot. By the time he had broken through the
worn path of leaves and branches, Chris knew that they were too far away for
the lawmen to catch them. The realization of this escape made Chris swear,
until he saw the stagecoach and the bodies.
God, not again.
Grimly exchanging glances as their mounts slowed to a trot towards
the crime scene, they all feared the worst. The stage lay titled slightly to
the side on uneven ground. The horses harnessed to the wooden carriage were
stamping their feet in distaste, made uneasy by the scent of death in the air.
While the humans approaching did not have as sharp a sense of it as the team of
horses awaiting their arrival, the feeling of bad tidings was palpable in their
lungs as well.
The luggage scattered in the surrounding area seemed to confirm
this fact. Ransacked suitcases and trunks were strewn about the ground in an
expanding field of debris that only spoke in hushed tones of the violence
committed in this grove, far away from civilization. Personal belonging
trampled underfoot by the outlaws and their horses covered the ground as the
lawmen dismounted and neared the silent carriage with growing trepidation.
"We're too late" Buck whispered. He did not want to face
another scene of carnage as they had done twice before. It twisted his insides
as it soon became painfully apparent this was precisely what they would find.
The scene before them was no different than the last time, only the location
and the faces had changed.
"We don't know that" Josiah said quietly but no one
seemed to speak up in agreement. The outlaws had left no survivors previously,
and there was enough evidence before them to indicate that this time was no
different. Chris looked around, recalling with absolute certainty that he had
heard the cry of a woman shortly after the shots. He strode forward, unafraid
of anything that could be waiting for him inside the carriage because horror
and he were old acquaintances. After finding Adam and Sarah's charred bodies in
what was left of their home, nothing had the power to frighten him after the
horror of that discovery. As he rounded the carriage, he came into sight of a
woman.
Upon his approach, she looked up at him with the most astonishing
emerald colored eyes he had ever seen. They were filled with tears and those
perfect lips seemed to quiver with sorrow as she wept for the four bodies
before her on the grass. Her long, copper colored hair was loose against her
white skin, which seemed a great deal paler in the face of the tragedy before
her. She did not seem hurt but the top four buttons of her blouse were undone,
revealing enough cleavage to give him concern.
"You scared them away" she said, fumbling for those
buttons as he came towards her, before picking up gloves that were resting on a
nub of rock near her.
"Are you all right, ma'am?" Chris asked, worried that
the men who had murdered these people, an elderly couple, a middle aged man who
appeared to be the stage coach driver and a boy not much older than JD, might
have harmed her. It was nothing less than a miracle that she had been left
alive, although if they had intended to have their way with her, she might be
happier with the alternative. As it was, all, the victims had been shot in the
back of the head. Chris could see the sickening moisture of pulp on their
skulls and stepped in front of the woman so she had to look at him and not at
the grisly scene before her. He dropped to his knees to help her off her own.
"They wanted to force me" she whispering, shuddering
visibly by the odious notion. The tears started running down her cheeks faster now, they made her cheeks sparkle with luster.
"You're safe now ma'am." he
reassured her, placing his hands on her shoulders to help her to her feet. She
slid up with him, never more than a hair's breath
away. Chris could smell the scent of lavender and wondered wildly whether she
bathed in it or was it merely perfume. Suddenly, he noticed that he was
becoming too aware of her and took a safe step back.
"What happened here?" Chris asked, noting the look of
surprise on the face of his companions. Chris was not normally so taken by any
woman, except Mary. He glared at them with a look that spoke volumes as to what
they could do with their assumptions of his reaction. Hell, she was a beautiful
woman. He was man wasn't he? He was allowed to look if not touch. Besides, his
heart was and always would be with Mary Travis. No spectacularly beautiful
woman could ever change that.
And if Mary knew he had looked at this woman like this, she would
utterly kill him.
Chris was almost grateful when Buck Wilmington closed in on them,
knowing that his old friend was in a better position to be of comfort to her
than Chris was himself. For obvious reasons, she made Chris feel uncomfortable.
However, there were also some not so obvious ones that put him on guard for the
same reason. Was it right to complain if something seemed so flawless? Could it
not mean that the imperfection was only buried deeper?
Buck handed her his handkerchief and produced his most charming
smile. She was, in his opinion, the most dazzling creature he had ever seen,
and he had considerable experience to be able to make that statement with some
accuracy. "Now darling," he said with the warmth that Chris would not
show, "we're the law in these parts and we're here to protect you."
He gestured towards the others, who were spreading out over the crime scene to
make a thorough examination. Only Ezra and Chris remained.
"I was so scared" she spoke with an eastern accent with
a soft and breathless voice, holding onto Buck's linen handkerchief like it was
made of silk. "They killed everyone for no reason. They forced the coach
to this terrible place," her eyes moved over the grove like they belonged
to a frightened doe. "They killed the driver" she whispered, stealing
a reluctant glance in the direction of the body belonging to middle aged man.
"Then they made us all climb out while they went through our things,
trying to find our valuables. After they took everything, they started shooting."
Her resolve seemed to break then and she descended into tears while taking
refuge in Buck's comforting arms.
Buck looked genuinely touched by this poor woman's ordeal and
offered Chris a look of helplessness as she wept in his arms. Chris rolled his
eyes, seeing Buck's interest was more than just passing before looking at
Ezra's whose expression was one of quiet amusement. Chris had no idea what the
gambler found so amusing with four bodies and a woman who was frightened out of
her mind. Chris made a mental note to be let in on the joke when they returned
to town. After the grisly work they would soon have to perform with collecting
and returning the bodies to
When she had composed herself, she continued her story, drying her
tear filled eyes as she spoke. "They were going to force themselves on me!
I fought them but there were five and all I managed to do was pull off one of
their masks. I saw one of their faces very well indeed."
That immediately caught Chris' attention. Finally, an eyewitness
who could identify one of the killers! He strode towards her again. "What
exactly did you see ma'am?" he asked.
"Now Chris," Buck looked at him sternly. "The
lady's been through a difficult ordeal. Can't we spare her this until we get
back to town?"
"Yes," Ezra said for the first time. "We wouldn't
want this delicate flower to wilt under such strong interrogation. I am certain, she will accommodate our questions after she has
had a moment to regain her strength."
There was something in Ezra's voice that made the gunslinger look
over his shoulder. For a moment, he could not tell if Ezra was being serious or
not. It sure as hell sounded to Chris like Ezra was almost enjoying this poor
girl's suffering. Buck seemed oblivious to it, but Chris had learnt enough
about Ezra to pick up the subtle inflections in his voice. This was one of
those moments when Chris could not decipher his intentions. Chris was at a loss
whether to thrash the crap out of him for his behavior or shake a reason out of
him.
"I don't see why not." Chris conceded, still somewhat
bewildered by Ezra's attitude. "They're long gone anyway. We couldn't
catch up with them even if we wanted to."
"May I have the honor of your name ma'am?" Buck
inquired, realizing that proper introductions had not been made.
"Why certainly," she said smiling a little. "I am
Julia Pemberton of
"Why that's a mighty pretty name, Miss Pemberton." Buck
said taking her extended hand and kissing it in that most cosmopolitan way.
Chris and Ezra exchanged knowing glances, wondering if there was
any moment which Buck found inopportune to make a play for a lady. Granted this
female in particular was especially fetching, but Buck might have found a
better venue to nurture a future dalliance. For a moment, it seemed that
neither was aware that there were four bodies lying in the dirt only a few feet
from them.
"I am Buck Wilmington," Buck introduced himself with a
smile before turning to his friends. "That there is Chris Larabee and Ezra Standish."
She turned to them and exclaimed. "You are my knights in
shinning armor, all of you."
Chris cleared his throat and replied uncomfortably, "We
should get you back to town Miss Pemberton." Somehow, Chris did not trust
Buck alone with this young woman. When his old friend was anywhere in the
vicinity of a beautiful woman, Buck didn't have the sense that God gave a dog.
Chris did not want to chance Buck being distracted on the unlikely chance that
those killers were still out here. She was the only witness they had, and the
first real lead to these slayings since they had begun. He was not going to
lose that for any reason. No, Buck was not a good choice to
escort Miss Pemberton to
"Ezra," he said quietly motioning the gambler closer.
"Can you take her into town? We're going to need the coach to transport
the bodies."
"Certainly Mr. Larabee." Ezra turned to the young woman wearing
that same bemused expression that Chris was at a loss to explain. What was it
he was seeing?
"But Chris!" Buck protested almost immediately for
reasons that were obvious to all except the young lady. "I can do
that." He marched up to the gunslinger to prove his point, casting another
smile in the lady's direction, assuring her that he would handle this slight
problem of her escort.
"Chris what are you trying to do to me?" He hissed
quietly, grabbing Chris arms and veering him out of Miss Pemberton's earshot.
"Are you trying to ruin my chances with her? That is the most gorgeous
creature that ever walked the earth!
Chris shook his head in disbelief wondering if Buck was for real
or not. It took less than a second for Chris to realize that he was perfectly
serious. Well, Buck was not the only one who could do that. "Buck,"
he said calmly, not in the mood for this when people had died because of their
inability to reach them in time. "I am not having this conversation with
you. I need you here with me, with your brain any place other than where it is
right now. She goes with Ezra."
Buck opened his mouth to protest and saw the icy glare that Chris
was giving him. It was a lost cause and he knew it. "Fine" he said
gruffly, throwing Ezra an unhappy scowl. "But I'll never forgive you for
this."
"I'll try to get over it." Chris retorted and took a
step towards the slightly disheveled Miss Pemberton. "Ma'am, Ezra here
will take you to
The young woman looked at Ezra as if noticing him for the first
time. Her eyes held Ezra's gaze for a few seconds before she looked graciously
at Chris once more, with that near perfect smile on her lips. "That would
be most accommodating, Sir." She said in a voice full of breathless charm.
Chris walked towards Ezra to have a private moment with the
gambler as the lovely Miss Pemberton gathered her belongings from the coach.
Predictably Buck was in attendance, providing support for the young woman as
they steered around the grisly collection of bodies. By now, Josiah had
returned and was performing last rites over the bodies, even if they were
somewhat belated. JD had found a quilt from the strewn belongings to cover the
bodies from exposure to save Miss Pemberton further need to view them in full
living color.
"Don't let her out of your sight." Chris instructed
Ezra, who was still watching the woman under Buck's ministrations. "If she
saw them, there's a chance they might come back to finish the job. They've been
pretty determined to hide their faces, I don't think
they'll appreciate having a witness around to identify them."
"I will ensure that the young lady is properly supervised.
Mr. Tanner should be in town by this time so we should be able to deal with
anything, should it arise." Ezra reassured the gunslinger.
Chris nodded before letting out a deep sigh. "This smells
bad."
With that Ezra could not disagree. The carnage that resulted from
a mere stage robbery was disturbing. There was no reason to kill like this.
From what little Miss Pemberton was able to impart on them, the outlaws had
taken precautions to hide their faces. Why do that if the intention to kill was
always there? Ezra could understand Chris' puzzlement at the unnecessary
shedding of blood and the total lack of discrimination in the victims selected.
"It does seem to be somewhat overkill for a mere act of theft."
"Overkill is an understatement." Chris grumbled.
"They kill women and children." His voice was a hard line of barely
concealed anger, which was rare for Chris Larabee in
Ezra's opinion. Chris had a tighter rein on his emotions than most people Ezra
knew. If the gunslinger had chosen to make gambling his profession, he would
have had the most perfect poker face.
"There is going to be an outcry until we catch these
villains." Ezra pointed out. Lawmen in all the surrounding towns,
including Four Corners were under community pressure to end the killings. It
had produced a measure of unprecedented cooperation between local law
enforcement in all the towns and the directive had now slipped beyond the
prestige of being the first to catch these outlaws, to simply ending the
threat.
"I know" Chris nodded somberly. "I'm starting to
think that this is not about a robbery."
Ezra looked at him, interested in where that well honed intellect
was leading Chris Larabee. Ezra had seen Chris
offered clues that were absolutely meaningless to the others, only to craft a perfectly
plausible reason for its existence. He had a logical and deductive mind that
was capable of taking apart a problem to its bare elements and then devising an
equally logical solution. If Chris thought there was more to this than just
petty theft then Ezra believed him with almost complete faith.
"She's a pretty woman" Chris remarked suddenly glancing
in the direction of Miss Pemberton who was returning with a small valise in her
hand and Buck still following closely. The present subject was too grim and
there would enough time for him to suffer its tragic consequences when Ezra was
gone. At the moment, Chris wanted to forget about the deaths so he could
concentrate on the job.
Ezra had to agree with him with the change of subject and his
observation of the young woman. Miss Pemberton was extremely lovely. He found
himself invariably comparing her to Alexandra who was very attractive herself,
except Miss Pemberton knew she was beautiful and Alex viewed her features as
another reason why she should not be taken seriously. "Mr. Larabee, as Mrs. Travis' beau, you should not be noticing
such things." he quipped.
Chris scowled at him because the gunslinger truly detested that
word. It had been a full month since Chris and Mary had gone public about their
relationship, and even if the town was hardly surprised, Chris found that
people who had previously avoided him were now speaking to him like they were
old friends. Suddenly, he was being invited to church socials and asked to
participate in local events. He was actually invited to a barn raising a few days ago. Chris could still remember the
laughter when Buck had heard that. Not to mention the invitations to dinner
whenever Mary was out of town for the day. For some reason, they believed that
he was incapable of feeding himself when she was not around to cook for him.
Nevertheless, he bore the embarrassment in silence even though it gave the rest
of the seven much fodder for amusement.
"I have two words for you." Chris glared at him.
"I think I know what they are." Ezra chuckled.
"Well Mr. Standish," Julia announced her return with
another one of those practiced smiles meant to dazzle, "I am in your
hands."
Ezra smiled faintly, trying to remain polite even though he was
perfectly aware of what was going on. "I shall try to handle you
delicately" he responded with every ounce of southern chivalry in his
voice.
Buck kept his frown in place, clearly unhappy that Ezra was
escorting her to town. Ezra wished he could tell the tall cowboy that he had no
reason to worry. After all, he already had the affections of a woman he cared
for deeply, he was not foolish enough to toss everything aside for someone who
appeared to be more window dressing than an actual person.
"Miss Pemberton," Buck said to her, "it would be my
pleasure to call on you in better circumstances."
"You have been most kind Mr. Wilmington," she gave him a
look of suggestion that hinted her interest was more than just fleeting.
"I should be delighted to have your company at a later date."
Buck grinned at that, happy with his success. He offered a
triumphant look in Chris and Ezra's direction before Chris finally stepped
forward and took him by the arm. "Come on Buck." He said towing his
old friend away from the engaging Miss Pemberton.
"I'll see you in town!" He cried out as Chris distanced
them both from Ezra and her.
"Are you ready Miss Pemberton?" Ezra said, shaking his
head as he turned around and walked towards his horse, making no offer to help
her with her valise.
She was waving goodbye to Buck when she noticed him leaving. With
the slightest hint of a frown, Julia hurried after him, somewhat confused that
her usual repertoire was not working with this dapper young man. Julia knew the
type of course. She had met a few Southerners in her lifetime although she
could not say she had ever had one. He was a southern dandy, probably used to
mint juleps and sitting on the porches of large plantations while their black
slaves fanned the heat from their 'oh so gentle' brows. Julia did not like
Southerners or their way of life. The women in their world were even more
repressed than the high born society from which she had just escaped. She did
not like their world where any man or woman should be the property of others.
She had very few morals in some things, and often surprised herself by the
existence of high-minded ideals whose origins still mystified her. Perhaps, the
question of ownership angered her because she remembered how it felt when her
father had sold her to Roderick Packard. The only difference between her and a
slave of the old plantations was the color of her skin.
They did not speak immediately after departing from the site of
the latest murder, but rode in silence for some distance. Ezra tried not to pay
attention to the way her hands were wrapped around his waist or the manner in
which she placed her breath, near his ear. He smiled faintly at the obvious
tricks, wondering how long it had been since he had last fallen prey to the
most ancient of the arts. To her credit, he had to admit she played it well.
Any woman who could make Chris Larabee
notice her was quite formidable indeed. When Ezra scratched the back of his
neck in irritation as a subtle signal for her to stop her attempts at whatever
it was she was trying to do to him, he heard the slight huff of disappointment.
"Have I done something to offend you, Mr. Standish?" she
asked in the sweet voice of hers.
"Not at all, Julia" he replied as they moved out of the
wooded grove and rejoined the main trail back to town. After what they had
discovered, he was looking forward to dinner with Alexandra. "I am
however, curious."
"Curious?" He did not need to look behind his shoulder
to know that she was looking at him with a look of wide-eyed innocence.
"Yes" Ezra nodded. "I've never met any man who,
intent on violating a woman, is good enough to undo
her buttons with such care or allow her the time to remove her gloves and place
them aside."
For a few seconds she did not answer. When she did finally
respond, her voice was full of wounded indignation. "Whatever do you
mean?" she protested. "Those men were going to rape me!"
"I'm sure they would have partaken in the offering, but I
have this sixth sense that you might have bought yourself some valuable time by
being a little more accommodating."
"How dare you!" she declared in outrage and Ezra felt a
sharp slap on his back, to which he only smiled wider. "You
vile beast!" Her anger was quickly followed by the predictable
onslaught of tears.
"You are wasting your time." Ezra remarked. "Tears
have little effect on me."
"You are a horrible man!" she exclaimed.
"You misunderstand me, Julia." he replied calmly,
showing no indication of being the least bit effected
by her tears. If anything, it only served to confirm his suspicions. After
being raised by Maude Standish, Ezra was accustomed to every
possible guile capable of being produced from a conniving female.
Perhaps that was why he found Alexandra so refreshing. She was incapable of
such cunning because she was frightfully honest.
"You did the intelligent thing. You used the resources that
were available to you and escaped the encounter with your neck in one piece.
You bought yourself some valuable time with the ploy although, had we not come
along, I am certain they would have killed you anyway."
There was a slight pause before he recognized the sounds of a nose
being blown and sniffles subsided. "Are you going to voice these
suspicions?" she asked after a moment, no trace of the former distress in
her voice.
"Of course not." Ezra replied, unsurprised by this sudden
about face. "Call it professional courtesy."
"Professional courtesy?"
"Yes," he nodded. "Miss Pemberton, if that is
really your name, I have been in this game since you were still deciding what
to wear on your society debut. It is my gift to spot a con a mile away, and
you, my charming Julia, have made an impressive start."
"Thank you" she frowned, wondering whether this
discovery was a good thing or not. "I so enjoy making a good
performance."
"First rate," he chuckled. "Truly, you should be on
the stage. I shudder to think what new depths of vile you could bring to the
role of Lady MacBeth or perhaps even Helen of
Troy."
Julia felt herself bristle. She despised the fact that he was able
to see straight through her. She often expected such clarity from women because
they felt so intimidated by her that it was all they could do when she stole
their men away. However, it was a novel experience to be unable to use her arts
on a man. He was absolutely correct of course. When the stage had been robbed
and Julia had seen what they had done to the others, she had made them the only
offer she could to save her life. As odious as it was, she would have allowed
those men to touch her, even if it was a stall for more time while she came up
with another plan.
"And how did you come to be the law around here?" Julia
questioned after a moment, suddenly curious as to his background. "You
hardly seem the type to be playing constable."
"I seem hardly the type for many things" Ezra
deadpanned, glad that she had dropped the false attempts at trying to trick
him. In truth, he sometimes wondered why he was still in
"Let's just say, even a con man needs to retire" he
replied after a moment, giving her any reason but the truth. He was good enough
with facades himself, to make the lie believable. "I own a saloon in town
and it is in my best interests for law and order to be maintained. Until our
arrival, there was a decided lack of it in
"So I've been made aware." Julia replied. Her resentment
was fading somewhat because it was liberating to be herself for a change,
without the persona she was forced to maintain around men to get what she
wanted. "I would not have bought the Emporium if I had known this area was
running rife with highwaymen."
"The
"I know" she nodded. "However, it will soon be
rebuilt and open for business."
"You selected a very unusual choice for a new business"
he remarked. Personally, he had not counted on her trying to establish any kind
of business. She did not seem like a woman who would be content with the rigors
of a career. Women like Julia Pemberton preferred being cared for hand and
foot, to be adored up close and adorned in the best.
"I agree" Julia replied, wondering what had been in her
mind when she bought the property. She wanted somewhere far away from the world
of Philadelphia and the West was a perfect place to hide from the likes of her
father and possibly Roderick Packard, should he take it in his mind to find
her. After all, she had left him at the altar and he struck her as the kind of
man who would be small enough to crave vengeance for his wounded ego. She had
read the newspapers saying that opportunities awaited those willing to take the
risk in the Territory and there was just a hint of challenge in the article to
inspire her excitement. She was through being cared for and pampered. From now
on, she was taking charge of her life.
"However, it shows promise" she added after a moment.
"I want to build something on my own, without anyone telling me how to do
it or whether or not it's proper."
Ezra raised his brow at that remark. "My dear Miss
Pemberton," he found himself commenting, "I do say you surprise me.
It appears that you may not be as shallow as you seem."
"Why thank you Mr. Standish," she found herself
producing a smile that was genuine instead for the benefits of others. "I
am so honored that you have favored me with some measure of depth. The lawyer
who sold me the business was not so optimistic. He believed that a woman of my
delicacy would not enjoy a place like Four Corners." Julia did not add
that at the time, she had been sharing the delightful Mr. Porter's bed and that
he had practically begged her to marry him by the time she boarded the train to
Eagle Bend. He would have said anything to keep her.
"On the contrary," Ezra answered, oblivious to her
current line of thought, "
"How very forward" Julia said, slightly impressed, even
though she was disappointed that the beautiful Mr. Larabee
was taken. Normally that would not stop Julia, but she could not afford to
alienate a powerful member of the community in which she was trying to
establish herself. Alas, Mr. Larabee, she sighed. It
was not to be.
"One other thing," Ezra warned, since they were now
having this very frank conversation. "Mr. Wilmington considers himself to
be quite the ladies man, and while I believe it is entirely possible that his
interest in you is purely carnal, he does seem more
taken than usual. If you have no serious affections for him, I would prefer
that you did not trifle with his feelings. He is my friend and is one of those
rare individuals that bears malice to no one. I would
not appreciate it if you hurt him."
"Why Mr. Standish," Julia returned coyly. "Perhaps,
this is motivated by a little jealousy?"
Ezra laughed derisively. "Hardly Miss
Pemberton. My heart lies elsewhere."
"Truly?" she asked, her interest suitably piqued. Ezra
Standish was a most intriguing man. Despite his manner of supreme confidence
and his clairvoyance in reading her so accurately, Julia sensed depths to him
that were not easily understood. He subtly challenged the rebel in her, and she
wondered if it was at all possible to turn his head. "I didn't think it
possible for any woman to keep you faithful to her charms."
"Alexandra doesn't need charm to keep me faithful" Ezra
replied brusquely. "She just has to give a damn."
Part Two
Witness
Peso, the horse, was not happy, but then neither was Vin Tanner for that matter. The ride to the Doherty place
was initially a silent one with neither Alex nor Vin speaking a word unless it was absolutely
necessary. Both had decided to accept the situation because Nathan was not
allowing Alex to make such an arduous trek alone nor Vin to squirm out of taking her. The heat that was
baking the landscape did not make the trip any more bearable as the terrain
ahead took them through the Badlands, being one of the harshest stretches of
land in the Territory. While the heat was somewhat tolerable with the shade of
trees and the air cooled by grass early in the journey, by the time they
started to cross the
He could see Alex suffering under the heavy riding cloak she was
wearing. Her tanned skin was taking on the luster of dark bronze that seemed
moist to the touch. He watched her struggle with the temperature valiantly,
determined for him not to see that she was battling the heat. He supposed he
had to admire her tenacity. This was a woman who believed emphatically that
neither retreat nor surrender was an option, and made it into an art form. Vin glanced over his shoulder
occasionally, to see how she was faring as he led them through the bitter
landscape. He knew Agnes Doherty from his conversations with Nettie Wells, who called the woman a stubborn old mule who
would not take good advice even if bit her on....
Well Vin got
the general idea by that point.
The farm, which Agnes Doherty would not leave, was almost a full
day's ride from
As it was, Peso was showing ambivalence at being forced to
traverse the cracked ground beneath his hooves. The stallion had picked up the
scent of death in the grisly end of the animals already passed and was
unsettled. Vin supposed that
it was some consolation that they were only travelling
the outskirts of the Badlands instead of trying to cross its wide expanse. This
was only the first leg of a difficult journey. After leaving the Badlands, they
would then have to follow a steep climb up the mountain for several hours
before reaching the farm. It was not a farm really, there was too much shale in
the ground to grow anything and it was useless as grazing land. Nevertheless,
Richard Doherty had believed that there was gold in these hills and wanted to
remain close to the mother lode he never found.
"How are you doing Alex?" Vin asked as he wiped the sweat from his brow,
surveying the terrain ahead of them. In the distance, he could see the green of
the hills and knew for a fact, that there was a river running not too far from
here. Both were still hours away, but at least they would be able to water the
horses and stop for a break before making the trek up the hills. Personally, Vin was looking forward to the
interlude, and by the looks of her, Alex appeared to need it just as badly.
"I'm fine Mr. Tanner" she answered trying to inject as
much ease into her manner as possible.
However, in the last hour or so, she had firmly decided that she
was not going to endure this trip unless she made some quick changes to her
present wardrobe. First, this riding cloak was going to have to go. She had not
anticipated that the length of the journey would take them through such
laborious terrain, and what was usually suitable attire for a quick ride now
felt like sheets of wool against her skin. From a medical point of view, Alex
knew if she did not shed the cloak, she would be in real danger of overheating.
Struggling to hold onto the reins while slipping out of the cloak, she did a
curious dance on Calliope before divesting herself of the garment. Underneath,
she wore a thin cotton shirt buttoned up high with a burgundy colored vest and
a long dark skirt. All were tolerable once she undid the top buttons of the
shirt and let the air breeze down her chest. She still appeared modest as ever
but slightly less uncomfortable.
Vin watched her perform this little task,
trying not to notice the length of her slender neck exposed by the part of
white cotton, tapering into the cleavage that was tantalizing him with what he
could not see but rather what he imagined. He shook the thought out of his
head, once again furious for allowing himself to fall
into this situation. "There's a river a few miles up ahead" Vin said, deciding that it was
best if he looked ahead and not anywhere else. "We'll stop for a
while."