DISCLAIMER:

All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide. Authors Note: I’ve been writing enough stories from Mary’s point of view, so I thought I’d try a Chris story.

THE RECKONING

PART ONE:

CHESSPIECES

Yesterday

The demons in his life arrived almost when his life began.

He never spoke of them and people had a tendency to guess that he did not like being asked about them. They saw him in town once in a while, riding his soot coloured gelding, with steely coloured eyes always seeing ahead but somehow aware of everything around him. At first appearance, he looked no older than twenty-one. He was tall, lean; handsome to a fault but could never be considered pretty, with a demeanour that kept people away. Those who looked into the depth of his eyes were often unsettled by what they saw. His were eyes not those belonging to a young man but to someone who had seen too much already and marked forever because of it.

They knew Chris Larabee was dangerous. They just did not know why.

Only one person in town knew him with any intimacy and that was a young farm hand at the Blesdoe Ranch. Their personalities contrasted like night and day. Buck Wilmington was loud, confident to the point of arrogance and had a reputation as ladies' man as most of the local girls could attest. When Buck was with Chris, the differences between them seemed more pronounced. However, the friendship continued and would do so for the rest of their lives.

Unlike Buck, Chris was not loud. In fact, he rarely spoke but when he did, he was always polite. He tipped his hat to the ladies and did not indulge in hard carousing. When he was not with Buck Wilmington, he was usually hidden in a darkened corner of the saloon, drinking alone. Women gossiped behind his back, intrigued by what he was. Some approached him but showed he showed little interest. In turn, men viewed him caution. Although he had yet to draw a weapon on any of them, he was believed to be a gunslinger. He just had the look about him.

Nevertheless a year after his first appearance in town, Chris still remained as much a mystery. They did not know how he earned his living but noticed he was never without money, even if his income appeared modest. Thus it was a complete surprise to the townsfolk when it became known that Chris Larabee had taken a job as a ranch hand at the sprawling Westbrook property called Haven. He never seemed the type to work on a farm, even one as large as the Westbrook homestead. However, James Westbrook was known to pay his men well. For someone who might be considering settling down, it was a good a point as any to establish more permanent roots.

*******

Chris Larabee watched the family closely.

There were seven of them. James Westbrook who ran the town likes he ran his property, his wife Eloise, two daughters Lucy and Rebecca and three sons, Isaac, Timothy and Damien who also lived on the homestead. Although he was one of only a small number of workers on the ranch, Chris was careful to stay out of sight. The other ranch hands did not like him much but that suited Chris fine. He was not there to make friends. He kept a close eye on the family, watching their movements like a cat studying the mouse before attack, committing everything to memory. If he should fail when he finally made his move, it was not going to be due to any lack of preparation.

Although he was careful to study all of them, it was only Damien Westbrook who had Chris’ undivided attention. The youngest of the entire clan, Damien was in ownership of a mean streak known to most of the young women in town. The more respectable ones would not speak of the abuses they had received at his hands but Chris had kept his ears open and knew the look of those who had suffered. Damien liked his sex rough and he did not discriminate on whom he chose as his partner once the desire took him. Every now and then a working girl would turn up dead, battered to death. Sheriff Barlow who was bought and paid for by James Westbrook paid it little mind. There was not even the formality of an investigation. No one in town had any doubt as to the perpetrator of the crime, however, it was not wise to make mention of it. Those who had been unfortunate enough to protest, usually an outraged father or relative wound up dead. Sheriff Barlow would then deem the reason for the death anything other than it was really was.

Murder.

Had Damien chosen to keep his activities within the sphere of his father’s influence, it was entirely possible he could have continued his sadistic pleasures for years to come. In Crest Falls where James Westbrook ruled supreme, Damien was safely protected from the law. Threats or monetary gifts to the victims or their families usually put an end to any recrimination after Damien’s excesses. However, it was only a matter of time when the victim would no longer be somewhere that Westbrook could buy or threaten into submission.

Bitter Creek was more than a day’s ride from Crest Falls and it was a large town with a duly appointed Sheriff who took the law just as seriously as the safety of its citizenry. When the daughter of the local postmaster was raped and murdered after a dance, those present at the function identified Damien as her escort for most of the evening. He had been in Bitter Creek to see about buying a new horse and had chosen to stay for a few days. By the time the girl’s body had been discovered, Damien had wisely returned to the safety of Crest Falls but this time old man Westbrook’s influence could not pacify the girl’s enraged family. Warrants were issued and Sheriff Allen journeyed to Crest Falls to arrest the boy.

He never returned.

Since then, numerous lawmen were sent out to retrieve the boy and to date, none of them had succeeded. James Westbrook was allowing no one to take his son and the men he employed to protect the boy, made that determination a reality. The warrant on Damien Westbrook was left outstanding. With each fresh attempt and eventual failure to apprehend him, the bounty on the boy’s head began to rise steadily. A thousand dollars was not a king’s ransom for a bounty but it could buy a nice parcel of land somewhere.

It was a bounty that Chris Larabee intended to collect.

Thus Chris spent a month on the Westbrook homestead, waiting like a coiled serpent for the perfect time to make Damien accountable for what he had done. There were other reasons at work for his motivation, the least of it being money. Some were personal reasons and the others were simply a sense of indignation that anyone could be so brutal and was allowed to get away with it. He knew he could be a paradox at times because his emotions were walled in so tightly that it seemed almost invulnerable. Yet, there were occasions when sentiment would creep in and he would find himself a cause for which to believe.

He was never more dangerous when he believed in something.

*******

Christmas Eve was a time of celebration for everyone in the Haven. Most of the workers on the property whether they were ranch hands or hired guns, had gone to town to enjoy the holiday or were with their families. Chris Larabee had no such obligations to fulfil. There was on family in his past who were expecting him and if they were, they would have found him otherwise engaged. After a month of working the cattle and all the other duties that made up a ranch hand’s lot, Chris was finally ready to take his leave of Haven.

As he strode towards the main house leading his horse behind him, he could hear the happy voices singing carols within its walls. For a brief moment, he imagined the presents being exchange under a gaily, coloured Christmas tree. He crushed the image mercilessly as he reminded himself what he was here to do. He had chosen tonight for specific reasons. The hired guns that protected Damien Westbrook for so long had ridden to Crest Falls an hour ago. Chris did not expect to see them before morning. No doubt the working girls in the neighbouring areas would be busy tonight. James had let them go because he believed no lawmen would come calling on Christmas Eve.

Chris had expected as much, which was why he had maintained the charade as a ranch hand for so long. As one of Westbrook’s employees, he could move about freely without suspicion. In fact, he could come and go as he pleased, as he would tonight. If all went well, he and Damien would be out of the territory before Westbrook could alert his men.

Chris tethered the animal to the horse rail in front of the house and proceeded up the steps. Stepping onto the porch, Chris circled the large house, taking note of where everyone was. He wished the entire family was not present but knew it was a situation that could not be helped. It was now or never. Another factor that gave him cause for concern was that the house was double storey building and he knew his reconnaissance was not full proof since he could observe if anyone was up there. As he rounded the building, he could hear the singing grow louder. He arrived at a set of open doors and peered past it long enough to see Eloise Westbrook at the piano, with her children around her singing Christmas carols. There was something about the scene that almost gave Chris pause but the bounty hunter forced it away with expert control. James Westbrook was seated on what looked his favourite chair smoking a pipe, enjoying the quality family time.

Enjoy it for the last time, Chris thought to himself.

He drew both guns from the gun belt around his waist and cocked the weapons into readiness. Without drawing another breath, Chris stepped through the door with his guns drawn as calmly as any visitor making an unexpected appearance did.

"Good evening." He greeted.

The first one to react was Eloise. She screamed in fright as she saw the stranger before them. Damien jumped out of his chair and Chris only had to shift the barrel of his gun slightly for the boy to know that it was wiser to remain seated. The others reacted with similar hastiness until the barrels they staring down, told them different. Only James Westbrook seemed unperturbed by the sudden interruption.

"Larabee?" He said quietly. "What is this about?"

The old man was playing it safe Chris realised. He didn’t want his family hurt. Good, that was a valuable bargaining commodity. "Your boy." Chris said simply. "I’m taking him in."

"No!" Eloise squealed as her eyes darted toward her youngest. Damien Westbrook glowered at Chris in black hatred.

"Shut up." Chris barked. "Get over here." His eyes met Damien’s with enough threat in his voice to ensure that Damien obeyed. Obviously, his bravery only showed itself when he was using his fists on women. With an equal, Damien was not so forward. "Now." Chris repeated.

"You’re not taking him." Timothy Westbrook declared imperiously. "We’ll kill you first."

"This is not a negotiation." Chris reminded them. "Your boy has an outstanding warrant for his arrest and price on his head. I am bringing him in. Dead or alive is up to you." He looked at James because James was the only one who could decide how this went.

"I took you in you bastard!" James snarled angrily, rising from his chair. "I gave you a job!"

"And I appreciate it," Chris retorted, "which is why I won’t kill the lot of you as some of my less scrupulous colleagues have wanted to do."

Damien walked towards him slowly and as he advanced, Chris could see Timothy’s hand moving out of sight.

"Your hands!" Chris cried out but it was too late and the whole thing went to hell.

Later on, he would replay the incident in his mind, wondering if he could have done things differently and knowing the futility that comes with irrevocable outcomes. Timothy Westbrook would pull out a six shooter and Chris would fire without thinking twice. The bullet would slam into the chest of the middle Westbrook son amidst the terrified screaming of his mother and sisters. In rage, Damien would charge him and Chris would fire the other gun in he was holding, aiming for the boy’s knee. The bullet stuck bone and Damien went down with a cry of pain. Even before Timothy hit the ground, Chris knew he had killed the man. James Westbrook, horrified by seeing both sons shot, would lunge at Chris. The man was older and heavier and Chris reflexes were fast even for a young man. He side-stepped the charging rancher who went through the doors, in time to see the final Westbrook son making his attack. Somewhere, Isaac Westbrook produced a rifle and took aim while Chris was distracted with his father. Chris dropped to his knees as buckshot flew overhead, knocking his hat from his head. He fired again, needing only one shot.

The shot blew out the back of Isaac Westbrook’s skull. Blood and grey matter splattered across the wallpaper with its dainty yellow flowers. The screaming was almost high pitched now and did not come simply from Eloise. Chris turned around when he realised that James had not risen from where he fell. In his charge, the old man had fallen off the porch and was lying on the dirt ground, without moving at all. Slowly, Chris approached him, wondering if the man was playing possum and would attempt a surprise attach. Chris prodded the man’s still body with his boot and saw no movement. For a moment, was puzzled until he turned Westbrook over and saw the unusual angle of his neck.

James Westbrook was dead. His neck was broken.

Chris regarded the man’s dead form and swore under his breath. He had never intention of killing James Westbrook or his sons. He had only wanted to bring in a rapist and a murder, not become one himself. He knew that he had shot in self defence but to the women crying in that house, whose lives would never be same again and whose Christmases from this point on, would be a memory of loss, Chris knew he would always be a murderer.

*******

The ride to Bitter Creek was fast and furious. Knowing that he had only a matter of hours before Westbrook’s men came after him, Chris slung the injured body of Damien Wesbrook on the back of his horse and sped out of Crest Falls on full gallop. Despite the urgency of the situation and his ability to stay focussed on any situation, he found his mind unable to forget the scene he had left in the Westbrook home. He had never meant for the others to die. In fact, he had not wanted any of the Westbrooks to be harmed. Nothing was ever certain, Chris knew that but he also knew that he should have been able to handle things better. The sounds of Eloise’s tears echoed in his mind the further he got from Crest Falls.

They were half way to Bitter Creek when Damien Westbrook finally overcame his injuries enough to speak. "You bastard!" He cried in a half sob. "You killed my father and my brothers!"

Chris closed his eyes as the words stung him more than they should have. Normally, words barely effected him but today was not an ordinary day and what had transpired at the boy’s home justified Chris’ guilt. "I didn’t want it to go down that way."

"You didn’t want?" Damien fairly screamed. His arms were tied and his leg throbbed in agony. Chris had treated the wound enough so that he could make the journey to Bitter Creek. Once Damien was in custody, Chris was certain he would get the attention of the local doctor. In any case, his injuries made him easier to handle and at the moment, Chris did not need the aggravation. He felt bad enough about ht had happened.

"I’m sorry," Chris found himself saying. "I meant to take you without harming your family."

"I still got money," Damien started blathering now that it was apparent that no rescue was forthcoming. The darkness behind them offered no sounds of hooves beating down in pursuit. Instead, the plains behind them were silent with the stillness of night. Even the stars seemed to have disappeared behind the canopy of grey clouds. It did not seem like it was Christmas at all. The realisation that he might be facing a hangman’s noose brought out his fear. "I can pay you double the reward for my head."

Chris snorted in disgust but he was hardly surprised. He almost expected Damien to begin pleading for his life once he became aware of his situation. "This ain’t about money." He said simply. "No deal." He added in case Damien misunderstood.

"What else is there but the money?" Damien shouted in rising desperation. "Isn’t that what all you bounty hunters want?"

Chris continued riding into the night and made a decision along the way. It was not much restitution, considering Chris had just killed the man’s brothers and his father but he was at least deserving of why Chris Larabee had sought him out. "Do you know who Alice Sullivan is?" Chris asked as they reached the outskirts of Bitter Creek. In the distance, the town’s lights flickered a beacon of calling to them.

"Who?" Damien demanded, feeling the pain in his shattered knee more acutely than ever.

"I guess they all look the same when you’re tearing them to pieces with your hands." Chris said coolly. "Alice Sullivan used to live in Crest Falls. She was the daughter of Jebediah Sullivan, the boot maker. Do you remember her now?"

Damien searched his memory. There had been so many women; so many faces begging for mercy as his fists did the talking. Just thinking about how they had whimpered and cried drove any thought of remorse over the events of some hours ago. "I don’t remember her."

"She remembered you." Chris answered. "She remembered how you raped her and then beat her so bad that her own kin could barely recognise her. She remembered right until the time she killed herself a few weeks later."

Damien knew nothing of the woman in question. The bounty hunter was right; they did look a like when he was enjoying himself. It made no difference whether their hair was blond or brunettes, blue eyes or green. In the final analysis, how they made him feel was all he cared about.

"She was going to marry a friend of mine." Chris continued. "I don’t have many friends, so I sure as hell wasn’t about to let him ride on up to your father’s ranch and kill you. Your dad would make sure he never even reached Haven, let alone get there alive. So I made him a promise, I told Buck I’d take care of it myself. You’re going to Bitter Creek and you’re going to stand trial for murdering the postmaster’s daughter and maybe, Buck will be able to sleep nights again."

Damien said nothing for a moment, content merely to digest the information Chris had provided. When he finally spoke, there was no trace of the previous fear in his voice. Instead, he answered with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "He may be able to sleep nights again, but you won’t. You better pray they kill me, Larabee cause you’ll never be able to stop looking over your shoulder. I’ll get you, one way or another, I’ll destroy you."

"You can try." Chris replied unperturbed. Threats were nothing new to him.

He was still screaming those words when Chris rode away from the jailhouse, a day later.

Today

The woman had spent most of her life travelling. In her mind’s eye, were memories of faraway places, India, Palestine and even St Petersburg. She had visited the continent and found it charming in the way one might admire a fading beauty. However, this was the first time she had made any journey alone. She had no idea why she had come here, knowing only that it was a place that seemed to need her as much she needed it. As the stagecoach thundered through the unyielding terrain, she wondered if in all the world, she could have made a less inhospitable choice. When she had selected her destination, she searched for a place where she could use the skills she had spent so much of painstaking time perfecting and never being able to use.

Most people could not believe that she had passed through some of the finest universities in Europe. She did this and more only to find herself languishing in the walls of a male dominated system where women were considered usurpers, not additions. When her father was alive, he had allowed her to practise is a limited fashion but he was dead and gone now and he wanted only thing of her before the final crossing. He wanted to know he was leaving his daughter behind as a doctor.

Alexandra Styles did not know if Four Corners was the place where she could finally be one, but she knew she had to try.

The other passengers in the coach seemed to regard her with a mixture of emotions. The women viewed her with curiosity, trying to place the race she might have originated. The men’s emotions were easier to place. They saw an exotic young woman with bronzed skin and jet coloured hair that stared back at them with warm brown eyes, full of intelligence. She was possibly a Creole but there was something about her that did not match that description.

"Do you have family in Four Corners dear?" An elderly woman inquired. The woman was well dressed. With a flash of insight, Alex guessed that she sat court over a large family.

"No." Alex answered politely.

"That is a most unusual accent." The woman remarked. Alex tried to stifle a smile because her origins were a point of great curiosity to the dowager. "Is it European?"

"Partially," Alex nodded. "My father was English but my mother was part Indian."

"Indian?" The women’s nose wrinkled in distaste, although she tried to hide it. "You do not look like an Indian."

It took a moment for Alex to realise that the woman was speaking of an entirely different extraction. "Oh no, I’m not American Indian." She explained. "I meant India as in the continent in the far east."

"I see." The woman said uncertainly. India might as well have been on the moon for all these people knew. "Such a long journey to a god forsaken place."

Apparently, it did not matter where Alex was from as long as she was not a native Indian or what they referred to as ‘coloured’ in this country. As for her description of Four Corners, the woman’s view was the general description by most of the people Alex asked to describe the town.

"And what will you do in Four Corners?"

"I’m hoping to set up a practice." Alex replied, wondering if the dowager could handle this next snippet of information. Alex was certain that her sensibilities were stretching beyond their limits.

"Practice?" She looked at Alex in confusion.

"Yes," the young woman nodded. "I’m a doctor."

*******

Unlike most of the inhabitants in Four Corners, Chris Larabee was not generally inclined to investigate the new Emporium that had opened in the town recently. Despite the fact that it was a lavish production of colourful street awnings and wide picture windows displaying mannequins garbed in the latest fashions, supposedly stocking everything from ladies undergarments to a fine collection of guns, Chris had little or no curiosity to visit the place. When he was finally forced to visit the establishment it had been a trip forced out of necessity than any need to investigate.

The decision to actually enter the new Emporium was one with which he wrestled with over a period of hours. All morning, he had been faced with this uncomfortable dilemma, trying to decide whether or not it was a wiser choice to simply go to Bitter Creek to conduct his business privately or for expediency, brave the new store in Four Corners. Whatever the choice, he had to do it today. He had paced the floors of his small house out of town, like a lion trapped in cage. He had no idea why he felt so daunted about such a simple task. After all, in his lifetime he had done a great deal worse. It was not as if anyone would point a finger the moment he stepped into the walls of the emporium and started screaming his presence there. He ruminated on these points for an unusual length of time before he decided to bite the bullet and just go, no matter what the consequences.

All this because he was now had a woman in his life.

Chris finally left for town wondering if he ever felt so uncomfortable when he had been required to perform this duty for Sarah? He supposed it made all the difference back then because he had been younger and people sort of expected it from a family man. During the early days of their courtship, Chris had felt no embarrassment turning up at her doorstep with flowers and tokens of love. Since he was travelling most of the time, it did not matter any way. He would normally purchase something out of town where no one knew him or the lady he was buying for. His anonymity allowed him his dignity.

He stopped in front of the steps leading into the emporium and felt his courage falter. Inside, he could see people going about their business, shopping as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He had seen friends do it with similar ease and yet here he was Chris Larabee, undoubtedly the most intimidating man in Four Corners and all he wanted to do was drown in whiskey and forget the whole idea.

Except tomorrow was Mary Travis’ birthday and he had yet to buy her anything.

Chris turned around and took two steps away from the place. It was as far as he got before turning around again once he remembered what he was here to do. It went on like that for the next few minutes, two steps forward, three steps back. If anyone noticed this strange dance he was performing, no one dared to make light of it.

Jesus Larabee, Chris swore under his breath. Stop being such a damn coward! It’s just a birthday present. No one’s asking you retake Atlanta.

Telling himself for the hundredth time that he could handle this, Chris took a deep breath and started up the freshly painted wooden steps.

It was early afternoon and the emporium was seeing heavy traffic, mostly from the women in Four Corners. Although he saw some men in the vicinity, most of the customers were female. He had hoped to lose himself in the crowd but obviously that idea was shot to hell since he was the only one in the crowd not wearing a full-length skirt. Although he tried to appear completely indifferent as he entered the place, all eyes immediately turn to him. The sight of all the scrutiny almost made Chris Larabee spin on his heels and get out of with his life but he crushed the discomfiture and told himself to take it like a man.

A young woman whom he had seen around town, with dark auburn hair approached him gingerly. Chris remembered he had seen her once with Buck and realised her name was Elisabeth. "Mr Larabee, how nice to see you. Can I help you?"

Chris was almost told her to mind her own business when it occurred to him that she worked here. This place was certainly large enough to warrant shop assistants and he was glad he did not say anything rude. "I’m fine." He said gruffly, trying to move away.

The girl looked at him with a glint in her eyes that told Chris that she knew exactly what he was doing here. "Well, please free feel to ask if you require any help." She offered and Chris slinked away, reconsidering this whole stupid idea.

However, he did not walk out of the store.

After awhile, the novelty of his presence disappeared and the patrons returned their attention to their own purchases, although some did meet his eyes with curiosity, every time they happened by him. Although he was tempted to stay in the part of the Emporium that sold guns and the kind of things men would buy, Chris knew at some point, he was going to have to surface. There was actually a moment of desperation, when he considered the merits of presenting Mary with a good fishing knife; after all, he did not remember her owning one.

His thoughts ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous and he realised that he was more terrified about being discovered buying something for the woman he loved than having to face a hundred outlaws single-handedly. Finally, he returned to the section of the store that catered for the female population of Four Corners. Although the eyes still followed him as he browsed through the goods, Chris was able to shrug off the attention and eventually felt some measure of ease.

Overcoming that particular problem led to another. What exactly was he going to buy her? He had been three years out of practice buying anything for a woman. Even if the Emporium was filled with possibilities, Chris had no idea where to begin. He walked past shelves containing clothes, cosmetics, jewellery and the kind of trinkets only women would find interesting, unable to fathom which would be remotely appropriate. Just handing her flowers would mean that he had spent no time considering her gift and opted what was convenient. Chris had wanted to buy Mary something special. It was bad enough that she did not a wedding ring even though they were now intimately involved. While he was grateful that she was not rushing him into anything, he did feel as if there ought to be some formal understanding between them.

He was almost ready to give up when he suddenly came across the showcase cabinet at the front of the store. Unlike the others, this one was secured with a locking mechanism with a shop assistant in place. Chris wandered over to the glass case, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Fortunately, while people knew him on sight, very few like to approach him. Chris was never more grateful for that fact than at this moment.

Beneath the glass, was small collection of cameos, earrings and brooches, resting against a backdrop of sapphire satin. The vibrant colour offset the gleaming metal for maximum effect. Judging by the prices labelled on them, he gathered that the gold and silver were not plated but the genuine article. They were expensive but affordable, Chris decided. He did not bother looking at the earrings because he knew selection was exclusively a feminine expertise. However, the cameos did appear promising. The shop assistant, an older woman in her forties who stood by watching in silent amusement, he was sure. He examined a particular piece with the ornate engraving of a rose and decided that if he had to make a choice, this would serve.

"Chris?" He heard a decidedly familiar voice behind him and swore. Chris did need to look behind him to know which of the seven had discovered him.

Buck. It had to be Buck.

Chris straightened up and tried to inject as much cool into his manner as possible. He looked at the lady and tapped the glass over the trinket before remarking politely. "I’ll take this."

She nodded slightly, still wearing the barest hint of a smile as she fished a set of keys from the work apron tied over her skirt. "That’s a lovely choice. Shall I have it wrapped?"

Chris tilted his head forward in the affirmative and took a deep breath before turning around. "Buck, JD." Chris said indifferently as if nothing about this was out of the ordinary.

Buck Wilmington and JD Dunne stood before him. While JD was merely surprised at Chris’ presence here, Buck was wearing a wide, knowing grin on his face. It gave Chris the strongest urge to wipe that smirk off Buck’s face with his fist.

"Hi Chris," JD said unaware of what all the fuss was about. "Buck thinks I should buy a new hat." He said gesturing to the worn bowler that had suffered greatly since its arrival in Four Corners.

"Good idea." Chris commented, making no effort to enlighten anyone as to why he was here.

"Shopping Chris?" Buck inquired, looking over the man’s shoulder to see what the lady was removing from behind the counter. He saw enough to know that it was nothing Chris was buying for himself. "I thought the men’s section was that way." Buck glanced in the direction of that particular part of the store.

"I’m just looking around." The man in black remarked icily.

"That will be twenty dollars, Mr Larabee." The shop assistant intruded on the conversation and Chris wondered if her timing could be any worse. Giving Buck a cold glare, he cleared his throat and turned back to the counter.

Buck tried not to laugh but he was clearly enjoying Chris’ uneasiness. He walked next to Chris and looked at what his oldest friend was paying for. Chris did not meet Buck’s gaze as he counted the wad of notes in his hand and exchanged them for a small box, wrapped gaily in glossy colours of red and gold.

"Thank you Mr Larabee." She said politely. "I’m sure the young lady will appreciate it." As she turned away, Chris saw that her amusement was apparent. However, it was not as blatant as the wide grin on Buck Wilmington’s face. Although the seven were aware of his relationship with Mary, Chris had tried very hard to keep his feelings for Mary private. This was no easy feat with Buck around. For some reason, Buck delighted in his discomfiture regarding this new relationship although why, was beyond Chris’ understanding.

"Is that for the fair Mrs Travis?" Buck inquired innocently.

Chris growled under his breath and stuffed the box in his pocket. "Drop dead Buck." With that, the evasive gunslinger strode out of the establishment before Buck lost all control of his composure and Chris was forced to shoot him.

JD watched the interplay between both men with no idea what had transpired. "What was that all about?" He asked Buck who had started laughing.

"Nothing JD," Buck replied patting the boy on the back. "That man can shoot a fly off man’s nose at 300 paces without even grazing him but you send Chris to go buy something for a lady and he still goes completely to pieces."

"Well maybe its just because Mrs Travis is such a lady and all." JD said coming to Chris’ defence. After all, it was no easy thing buying the appropriate gift for someone special. He had endured similar difficulties when he had decided to court Casey for the first time. If not for Mrs Travis, Nathan and Josiah, the whole thing might have ended in disaster. As it was, he ended buying Casey the digger anyway.

"Who’s talking about Mrs Travis?" Buck retorted. "He was like this even when he was courting Sarah."

*******

There were days in the town of Four Corners where people were in constant fear of their lives. It sometimes felt as if every bandit, outlaw, varmint and generally lawless hombre would to find their way into the municipality, announcing themselves in a blaze of gunfire leaving innocents dead. The citizens of Four Corners understood this unfortunate state of affairs as one of the calamities expected when one lived in the West. The gory tales of gunslingers and shootouts greedily feasted upon by impressionable youths reading dime store novels in the East, was not fiction to the townspeople. They lived the life portrayed so dramatically in sordid paperbacks.

That was before the Seven of course.

While there was still danger, for this was after all, the territory known as the Wild West, Four Corners was enjoying a period of relative peace. Since the unofficial appointment of the seven as peacekeepers by Judge Orin Travis, Four Corners was safer than it had ever been under the protection any marshal or sheriff. There days, the intervals between one spate of violence and the next had lengthened considerably from hours to weeks thanks to the men who now guarded the town with genuine dedication. In turn, Four Corners had embraced the guardians (if somewhat gingerly) and the seven men had become the recognised authority of law.

On this particular day during one of those cherished intervals of peace, there was little for any of the seven to do. After his experience in the Emporium, Chris had chosen to more familiar territory. He had yet to decide whether disembowelling was too good for Buck or should he remain with the tried and true method of just shooting the man, preferably in the mouth. While the rest of the seven had the good sense to leave the subject of Mary Travis alone, Buck enjoyed reminding Chris of his sudden change of personal status. He flinched at the word ‘beau’ being used anywhere after his name. It was not that he was ashamed of being with Mary, it just that he did not like their relationship viewed under a magnifying glass by everyone and his brother.

Ezra was behind the counter, playing bar tender while Inez worked the room with a serving tray. They were a good team, Chris noted. Saloon profits had been limping along prior to the arrival of the sultry Mexican woman. Maude Standish, who was part owner of Ezra’s saloon had bought controlling interest and appointed Inez who had been just a waitress at that point, to guard her interests as manager. The result had been a sudden rise in patrons who not only came for the drinking but also for the Mexican cuisine at which Inez was very adept and a chance to be served by undoubtedly one of the most engaging females in town.

At the moment, their relationship involved nothing but business. With a smile of satisfaction, Chris wondered if Buck would survive the disappointment if it ever came to pass that Ezra and Inez’s friendship was anything but platonic. Chris had seen the look in Buck’s eyes when he cast his gaze upon the woman and he had known the ladies man long enough to know when one really touched him. While Buck could run a list of all the women he’s ever had, only Chris knew how many he had really loved, from the first to the last.

"Hey Ezra." Chris greeted as he reached the counter.

"Good afternoon Mr Larabee." Ezra said reaching for a bottle of whiskey without having to ask what he was having. Placing a glass on the counter, he slid the full bottle towards Chris who caught it easily. "Is it your turn to do the rounds?" By that he meant the regular patrols undertaken by the seven when the town was quiet. It was their way of keeping tabs on any possible trouble before it became out of hand.

"No," Chris responded. "Just here to run some errands." For the moment anyway, none of the others needed to know his shopping escapade. No doubt, Buck would fill them in on every embarrassing detail.

"Hello Chris." Inez smiled as she breezed past him with an empty tray, to join Ezra behind the counter.

"Does that mean I am liberated from this tiresome chore?" He said moving out from behind the counter.

Inez rolled her eyes and exchanged a resigned expression that Chris knew all too well. He often felt it when he was dealing with Buck. "You know, it would not kill you to do some work around here." She complained.

"Madam," Ezra said graciously. "I would not dream of intruding on the realm upon which you are so capable of administering."

"Yeah, yeah," Inez retorted sarcastically as Chris picked up his glass and bottle and went to join the others at their table.

"Anything I should know about?" Chris inquired, directing his question at Vin Tanner. Although Vin was not much older than JD, in his absence, Chris could rely on Vin to ensure things ran smoothly like no other in the group. Vin had a quiet strength about him that people tended to give people a certain confidence when it was lacking. Since Chris had bought the house and land out of town, he relied on Vin to give him accurate intelligence on current events in Four Corners.

"Not much." Vin replied, handing Ezra a deck of cards in an unspoken request for a game. "Just the usual drunks last night but JD put them in the tank to sleep it off. One of the working girls got into some trouble but we handled it okay."

"Where’s Nathan?" Chris inquired, noting the absence of Four Corner’s only physician.

"He rode out early," Josiah reported, picking up the cards Ezra was dealing quite deftly around the felt table. "He went out to the Indian village."

Chris remembered. At Kojay’s request, Nathan often rode out to the Indian reservation to look in on the villagers. Other than their medicine men, the tribe did not have access to any proper medical facilities. While Nathan could hardly be called a qualified physician, he did know enough to treat minor ailments and refer those who required more specialised services to the doctor in Bitter Creek. When he made such trips, Nathan would not be seen until late evening for he spent most of the day conducting thorough examinations.

"Stage is here." Chris remarked as he picked up his cards and glanced briefly out the window.

The stagecoach thundered through the centre of town, coming to a halt not far from the only hotel in Four Corners. He took a sip of his whiskey and watched in quiet observation as the stage coach driver brought the team of horses to a slow, steady halt. Judging by the amount of luggage perched on top if it, Chris guessed that the stage was full today and in his curiosity continued his watchful eye over it.

Involuntarily, the rest of the men found themselves watching the stage also, mostly out of sheer boredom. They were gravitating between the boredom at not having to do but also the reluctance of not wanting to do anything in the heat of the summer’s day outside. As the stage door opened, passengers began to file out in seemingly orderly fashion. It was the last occupant that captured everyone’s interest.

"My goodness." Josiah said quietly. "What have we here?"

The young woman who emerged from the stagecoach had everyone’s undivided attention at that instant. Not only was she extraordinarily beautiful, there was something about her that inspired a smile even on Chris’ jaded features. She wore her jet-colored hair loose around her shoulders, while her brown eyes surveyed the new surroundings. The woman lingered near the coach as the driven began unloading the luggage from the top of the stage. A great deal of it seemed to be hers. Judging by the volume of her trunks and carpetbags, it appeared she was in Four Corners for a lengthy stay.

"Now that is a lady." Vin remarked with similar appreciation.

Until now, Ezra had resisted the urge to gawk. In his time, he had come across many women with unsurpassed beauty, that he no longer believed the opposite sex had any power to catch him in their feminine snares. However, the reaction of the others caused him to look up from his cards and indulge in the gawking they were so openly demonstrating. Normally, anything wearing a skirt was enough to make most of them sit up at attention but Ezra noticed that Chris was also looking on in interest.

Once he looked, he could not turn away. Very little affected Ezra so completely as to leave him at a loss for words but seeing her left him unable to shift his gaze. Even from this distance, it was obvious that there was more to this lady than the beauty of her looks. She was exotic and looking at her conjured up images of aromatic spices and tropical heat in far away places.

"Venus had walked into our midst’s." Ezra whispered under his breath.

"I don’t believe it." Vin exclaimed. "How does he do it?"

"He must have a sixth sense." Josiah commented as they all saw Buck Wilmington suddenly appear on the street, making a beeline for the new arrival.

"That’s what way to put it," Chris retorted, knowing exactly how far south of his waistline that sense originated. "If he was a horse, he’d be the hardest working animal at the stud."

"I’m so glad he isn’t wasting away pining for Inez." Josiah said with an amused smile.

********

Alex had just paid the stage coach driver a gratuity with instructions to carry her belongings to the local hotel when she found herself confronted by what seemed like the welcoming committee. The tall, handsome man came towards her with a wide grin and bushy moustache. He was not unattractive but judging by the way that he was swaggering towards her, Alex guessed his purpose very quickly. She had been around the world enough to recognise the type even if it was only the continents that were different. Without doubt, this specimen considered himself quite the ladies’ man.

"Good evening darling," he greeted her, oozing with charm.

"Hello." Alex said politely in response. Although she could see clearly through him, Alex saw little reason to be rude.

"Permit me introduce myself," he said bowing gallantly and Alex had to stifle a smile because he performed it like a man who was unaccustomed to such formality. "I am Buck Wilmington."

She raised a brow in silent amusement and responded with her hand extended. "Alexandra Styles."

For a moment, he looked at her outstretched hand unsure of what he was meant to do next. She could almost see the realisation flash in his mind as he quickly took her gloved hand and planted a kiss against her knuckles. "Please to meet your acquaintance, ma’am." He offered his most dashing smile.

"Why thank you Mr Wilmington." Alex replied as she turned around and looked for the stage driver who was only a few yards ahead and making slow progress to the hotel with her things. Her eyes followed the direction he was heading and saw the hotel that would serve as her temporary accommodation until she was permanently settled.

Alex was hardly surprised when Buck started following her. "What brings such a beautiful woman like you to Four Corners, Alexandra?" Buck inquired, pleased at how well things were going. He always had a weakness for the elegant ones and Miss Styles (god he hoped it was Miss) was as refined as he would ever come across in this town.

"Call me Alex." She remarked offering him a friendly smiled as she stepped onto the wooden sidewalk and continued towards the hotel. While she was aware of Buck following her, Alex was studying Four Corners closely. "I’m thinking of settling here." She answered Buck. As they passed by the saloon, she noticed a handful of men loitering at the door. She counted at least four and found them to be an eclectic bunch. For some reason, she fascinated them as she walked by. Alex wondered at this until she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Buck gesturing at them with his hands. The gesture looked like ‘go away’.

"Friends of yours, Mr Wilmington?" She asked with a smile.

Buck flashed an irritated scowl in their direction before he turned back to her. "You could call ‘em that."

Obviously, they were watching him to see how well he would fare with the new lady in town. Despite herself, Alex could not bear to see him embarrassed on her account. Although she could honestly say she was not the slightest bit interested in Buck Wilmington, Alex had to admit she did like him. Even for a short time, he had grown on her. Besides, in two words she could describe him with complete accuracy.

Mostly harmless.

She paused in mid stride and looked up at Buck. From this distance, his friends had a good view of everything that transpired between them. "Mr Wilmington," she said breathlessly, imitating some of the debutantes she had been forced to associate with in her youth. "For your kindness, I would be delighted if you would escort me to my lodgings?" With that, she offered him his hand.

Buck’s eyes widened in surprise but he recovered quickly. Throwing a triumphant smirk at the other men, he took the lady’s hand and they proceeded towards the hotel. Once they were out of earshot, Buck looked at Alex.

"Thanks Miss Styles." He replied, showing her that he was not at all fooled by her performance. "That could have been embarrassing." Suddenly, he liked her a great deal more knowing that she had just preserved his dignity in front of Chris and the others.

"Well, never let it be said that a woman has never rescued a man’s honour." Alex said with good humour.

"Okay," he sighed blowing out all airs and attempts to win her since it was clear that Alexandra Styles was not easily fooled and probably immune to his animal magnetism. He wondered why it was always the smart ones who could see past it. "Now that I’ve stopped short of making a complete jackass of myself, I’d like to at least salvage the situation and welcome you to Four Corners." This time he was genuinely sincere with no hidden motives in the greeting.

"Thank you Mr Wilmington." She replied graciously.

"Call me Buck." He said quickly. "Alex."

Although it was not really proper for him to be calling her by her first name, Buck sensed that this woman was not the least bit concerned by what seemed acceptable. Not excessively anyway. If anything, she seemed a tad eccentric. From the sound of her voice, he knew for certain that she was a foreigner to the country and who knew what kind of strange behaviour she brought with her.

"So Alex," he asked genuinely curious this time. "What brings you to town?"

"Well," she said reaching the doors to the hotel. "I’m here to open up a practice."

Buck looked at her. "Practice what."

Alex chuckled slightly and then realised he was not joking with her. "A medical practice." She stated for clarification.

"You’re a doctor?" He exclaimed in astonishment. "But you’re a ......" He stopped himself before he could say it.

Unfortunately, Alex was perfectly aware what he meant. "There are lady doctors you know." Alex retorted. It never ceased to amaze her how the same words could come from men all over the world without fail. She had studied medicine in England only to be thought of as little more than an above average nurse. Why was it so difficult for men to imagine that women could be doctors?

"I know but...." He tried to speak but whatever he was going to say faded in his throat. "We knew a doctor was coming sometime, Nathan told us, but we expected a ......"

"A man." Alex concluded sarcastically and spared him the effort of saying it out loud.

"Are you really a doctor?" Buck could not imagine that this beautiful, refined woman could be in such a line of work. During the war it was necessary for women to work in army hospitals as nurses. He knew that many women in the city chose that line of work as a career but to become an actual doctor? Was it even legal?

"Class of 71." She said dryly. Her affection for Buck had suddenly evaporated like the dry dirt that covered the town. "Now if you excuse me," she turned on her heels finding no patience to deal with his chauvinism. "I have to get settled."

********

Buck returned to the saloon and found the others had returned to their table and resumed their interrupted card game. He could not wrap his mind around the idea of a lady doctor in town. Less than a month ago, Mary Travis had told Nathan that their quest to find a doctor willing to start a practice in Four Corners had finally come to fruition. The town had difficulty in filling the position because no respectable doctor wanted to practice in a place like Four Corners. Doctors preferred larger towns where there was access to hospitals and proper facilities. Nathan had welcomed the assistance because the black man was realistic about his capabilities. As he had explained to the rest of the seven, it was one thing to knit broken bones and sew torn muscle. However, it was another matter entirely when one had to perform major surgery or offer diagnoses on serious illnesses. For that they required a professional.

"Hey Buck," Chris teased. "It looks like you swept the lady of her feet."

"That was no lady." Buck sat down heavily, still stunned. "That was the doctor."

Chris’ eyes widened. The gun fighter put down his glass and sat up right. For Chris, it was more of a reaction than anyone had seen him display in months. "You’re kidding."

"I thought the doctor was a man." Josiah said looking confused.

"Wait a minute," Buck suddenly realised how they could have been misunderstood the gender of their new medical practitioner.

Call me Alex.

"Alex Styles." He declared, stumbling onto the answer. "Her name is Alexandra but she likes to be called Alex. That was probably why Mrs Travis thoughts the doctor was a man. The telegram probably said Alex Styles not Alexandra.." For Buck, this was quite a leap in deductive reasoning. It was a trait he did not display often enough for Chris’ liking.

"A lady doctor." Ezra sighed. "Now that is an interesting of events. I guess it is not entirely beyond the realm of possibility." Ezra made certain that his voice betrayed nothing of the enchantment that had struck him earlier.

"The Indians have had medicine women for as along as there have been tribes. I don’t see what so strange about it." Vin replied, true to form. The young man was very rarely started by anything. He was unflappable by most things that happened around him because Vin had the amazing ability to take anything in stride. It was one of the reasons why he and Chris Larabee got along so well.

"I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, its gotta be the water in this town." Buck mused as if he were a man ensnared in a bad dream. "First we got a newspaper woman, then a lady bartender, now a doctor." His eyes narrowed as terrifying possibilities reared its ugly head in his over active imagination and Buck leaned forward and whispered. "Its coming you know, they’ll be taking over everything and keep us around just for the breeding."

"You wish." Inez retorted as she walked past him with a tray of drinks.

Her departure followed an explosion of laughter from everyone except Buck who really was serious about the point he was trying to make. It took a few moments for everyone to settle down again before Chris remarked. "A doctor is a doctor I suppose." He decided. After all, Mary had shown this town that it was entirely possible for a woman to run a newspaper and raise a child at the same time. It was not that much of a leapt for the folk of Four Corners to grasp that the same could be the same about a lady doctor.

"Well I ain’t going to see her." Buck said defiantly. "It just ain’t right."

"I’ll keep that in mind the next time you get shot up." Chris retorted. For some reason, the idea was not difficult to accept once the initial surprise had worn away. However, it was also possible that Chris was biased in this situation. He liked strong women and lately he had a real taste for the independent ones as well.

"I’ll stick with Nathan." Buck retorted, unwilling to concede any point yet.

"Well," Vin looked at the others with a faint smile. "You can’t teach an old dog new tricks."

*******

Nathan Jackson knew he should have left the village sooner than when he had for he could see the sun disappearing beneath the horizon. Once he had arrived at the farm, he had discovered that his services was sorely needed by a number of families in the surrounding properties and they had gathered to have him look at a variety of ills. It was within his ability to help some of them but there were cases where he was forced to recommend a trip to Eagle Bend where a proper doctor could make an accurate judgement. Nevertheless, Nathan did what he could and appreciate the gratitude he received in return.

Sometimes, he wished he had the formal qualifications to go with the ability but understood that it was a reality impossible in this day and age. When he had escaped from the plantation to join the Yankee Army, Nathan’s only concern was the emancipation of his people. He knew that most northerners did not like Negroes any better than southerners but at least in the north, a man did not have to live with year of slavery. It was almost providence that he found himself at a field hospital for the duration of the war and those years had opened up possibilities he never imagined.

He watched the doctors and nurses going about their duties, mending broken bones and torn bodies, trying to make a man from the patchwork of blood and flesh. Nathan had observed and learned, knowing thinking for a moment that he would be called on for a practical application in the years after. There days, he received very little monetary payment for the service he did performed but what he did receive, he saved diligently. Someday, he would finally have enough to buy a parcel of land and then he would marry Rain. Nathan had met Rain when the seven had originally come to protect he Seminole village from which she hailed. Ever since then, he made fortnightly trips to the place, sometimes in between as well, to visit the beautiful young woman and check up on the progress of the village.

Despite his relief that Four Corners was finally getting the services of a qualified medical doctor, Nathan could not deny the apprehension he felt as well. After almost getting lynched by a drunk mob of men who held him responsible for the comrade he had been unable to save, Nathan knew that there were some things that were beyond his ability to prevent. As much as he was knew, Nathan had to admit that there was a lot he did not know about medicine and he was unwilling to gamble with anyone’s life to prove otherwise. While there was an illogical fear of becoming obsolete with the arrival of the new doctor, Nathan knew better than to submit to such nonsense. The area was populated enough to support to doctors and how many times had Nathan been run ragged because he was juggling the physical welfare of everyone on his solitary shoulders? No, he was not threatened by the arrival of the new doctor, not at all.

Nathan continued riding into the darkness, feeling the aches in his tired muscles becoming more acute the closer he reached Four Corners. He wondered if there was any trouble today but dismissed the notion quickly enough. Chris would not doubt have the situation well in hand if there were any problems. If anything, the gunslinger was able to get astonishing results from the most unlikely people.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of horses in the distance. The immediate area was well shrouded by trees and Nathan reached for the rifle slung neatly in its pouch on his saddle just to be safe. His eyes scanned the area, trying to see where the sound had come. As he progressed deeper into the wooded area, Nathan wondered if it might not be wise for him to take an alternate route. He had chosen this path because it would take some hours off the journey but he did not want to get himself killed either by getting ambushed. Suddenly, he wished the others were with him.

Nathan was still wrestling with the idea of turning back when he arrived at a clearing. There were men waiting there on horseback. Through the darkness, he counted at least four. It was too dark to see their faces and that alarmed him. They bared the path ahead and somehow, he instinctively knew they were waiting for him. He just did not know why.

"Good evening." Nathan said warily.

"Good evening nigger." The man replied derisively.

The word stung but Nathan was not fool. This man was trying to provoke him into doing something rash. He said nothing as he thought quickly about what to do. "I don’t want any trouble." He said calmly, slowly forcing his horse backwards.

"Too bad nigger," the man raised his weapon. "You got it."

Without any warning, he pointed his gun at Nathan and fired. He kept firing until he emptied the entire chamber into Nathan Jackson. The healer was knocked off his horse by the time the second bullet had reached him. The horse produced a startled neigh and bolted into the dark. The last thing that Nathan was aware of before the pain took him was the man looking down at him dispassionately.

"The others are going to be harder."

Part Two

Twilight Manoeuvres

"I hope this ain’t no wild goose chase." Buck grumbled as he rode alongside Vin and Chris.

It was close to midnight and the three men rode away from Four Corners when Nathan Jackson had failed to return. Although reservation was some distance out of town, the ride back to Four Corners did not justify the healer’s continued absence. It was out serious out of character for Nathan to go wandering off without telling anyone first. Since becoming the unofficial guardians of Four Corners, Chris was conscious of the fact that the seven men were targets for outlaws and bandits who might think the town was easy pickings. In the last year alone there had been many encounters with such men who did not forget easily. If Nathan had come across one of these men alone…

Chris did not like to think of the possibilities.

"It’s only an hours ride or more to the reservation." Chris replied. "He should have been back by now."

As a result of the warm day, the night was quite pleasant. The day’s heat could still be felt but the temperature was mild with a faint breeze sweeping across the plains.

"He may be off with a girl for all we know." Buck continued complaining. When Chris had told them they were going in search of Nathan, Buck had been making good headway with a new saloon girl named Doreen.

"No that’s you, Buck." Chris said shortly, knowing perfectly why Buck was so anxious to get back. "I’m sure the girl will wait." There was enough of an edge to his voice to tell Buck that enough was enough. Chris was genuinely concerned about Nathan and until he saw the healer for himself, they would continue looking.

"You think he might be in trouble?" Buck inquired, realising that Chris’s concerns about Nathan were nothing to laugh about. Chris had a keener sense of trouble than any man alive did and Buck had learnt throughout the years not to underestimate his instincts.

"Better safe than sorry." Chris replied, not prepare to voice the worst at the moment. He had a feeling that there was something wrong. Nathan rarely chose to stay away from town over night. The black man had a strong sense of responsibility when it came to his healing abilities. He would not have simply taken off without telling anyone.

"Stop a minute." Vin remarked and pulled the reins to dismount his horse.

Normally Vin preferred to do his tracking during the day, where it was easier to read the signs in the light. However, he was a capable night tracker when it was required. The plains had offered little evidence of Nathan’s presence but now that they were approaching a belt of trees, he wanted a closer examination. Chris and Buck held back as Vin stepped onto the ground and examined the terrain until the tree belt some yard away.

"Four may be five men on horse back." Vin suddenly announced. The markings on the grass and dirt were a language onto themselves for an experienced tracker. He studied the state of the marks before him and made some other conclusions. "The tracks are pretty fresh," he looked at his companions. "Last few hours I’d say."

"I didn’t see anyone new coming into town." Chris stated. "Someone would only come this way could be heading to town. There’s nothing else in this direction other than Four Corners. Long way to come for not going into town."

"We don’t know that for sure." Buck declared. Ever the optimist, he hated to think the worse in any situation until they had proof of it before their eyes. "I mean, there could be travellers passing through or something."

The possibility existed but somehow Chris could not abandon the instinct that something bad had befallen Nathan Jackson. He lived his life playing hunches like this and that he was still alive was a testament to its accuracy. "Or something is what I’m afraid of." He said before nudging his horse forward, leaving Buck and Vin to follow.

*******

They found him a short time later.

Chris saw him first. His body was a dark silhouette on the ground but Chris knew the moment that they had come into the clearing that it was Nathan’s form before them. He jumped off his horse and reached Nathan in two long strides. Buck and Vin were not far behind him.

"Nathan!" He called out.

There was no answer and that hollow feeling in Chris’ gut constricted further. Chris dropped to his knees when he reached Nathan and immediately felt moisture underfoot. When it seeped through the fabric of his pants, did Chris realise that it was blood. It was almost a puddle underneath Nathan and Chris found himself staring at a hand that was almost drenched in blood when he had touched the ground.

"Jesus." He managed to say and then turned to Nathan who was lying face down. Chris only had to pull his over to see the severity of his wounds. "Buck! Vin! Get over here now!"

Both men were at his side in minutes and the healer remained unconscious. Even in the dark light of the moon, they could see the entry point of several bullets across the man’s chest.

"Is he still alive?" Buck demanded as he stared into Nathan’s grey pallor.

"Barely," Chris replied, feeling his neck for a pulse. When he did so, he noticed another wound across the man’s throat and Nathan’s breathing was ragged.

"We got to get him back to town." Chris said getting Vin’s help to drag Nathan to his feet. The injured man showed no signs of movement and his body was a dead weight that only added to their fears.

"You’ve got the fastest horse, Chris." Vin retorted.

"Right." Chris agreed. "I’ll meet you boys back in town."

"You mean Eagle Bend." Buck reminded. "That’s the nearest doctor."

"Eagle Bend’s too far." Chris said savagely. "He won’t make it."

They carried Nathan to Chris horse and draped him over the steed rear. It would not be an easy ride but Chris could think of no other way to get Nathan to Four Corners any faster. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to come looking for the man sooner. As things stood, it was a minor miracle that Nathan was not already dead. Chris had been unable to gauge the man’s injuries closely but he could tell that multiple bullet wounds were the only cause of so much blood lose. The man was bleeding like a stuck pig.

"But you don’t know if that gal’s good enough to put Nathan together!" Buck insisted. He knew nothing of Alex Styles and liked it even less than he now had to entrust a friend to her ministrations.

"Get over it Buck." Vin snapped. "We don’t have a lot of choice."

"I’ll see you in town." Chris said shortly before he mounted his horse and dug his spurs into the animal, sending it bolting forward. Without further delay, both men and animal galloped into the dark towards town, racing against the clock that was ticking against Nathan’s life.

********

Alex almost fell out of bed when she heard the pounding at her door.

For a moment, she sat up in the darkness, without any clue as to where she was. Realisation flooded back into her mind, as the noise seemed to grow in urgency and pitch. Swearing under her breath in a most un-lady like manner, Alex stumbled out of bed and blindly reached for the silk robe hanging off the edge of the bed. She swung the door open as she pulled the robe around herself, Alex found herself staring at one of the men she remembered seeing in front of the saloon earlier today. The expression on his face matched the black of his clothes and immediately put Alex on guard.

"What is it?" She demanded.

"A man’s been shot." He said abruptly. "He needs a doctor."

Upon hearing that, Alex was wide-awake. "Wait a minute." She said withdrawing into her room. "I’ll get my bag."

Judging by the fact that this stranger had beaten down her door at this time of night told Alex how badly the man was injured. Knowing she would regret the haste later, she put on her slippers and grabbed her worn leather medical bag at the foot of the bed and emerged once more. What she was wearing was probably highly inappropriate for the occasion but it was warm and covered all of her. It was a notch above being stark naked but she had a sense that time was against her.

"Where is he?" She asked the man.

He said nothing in response but turned away from her and strode down the hallway, expecting her to follow. A few people had peered out of their rooms to investigate the commotion and Alex felt some embarrassment as she hurried after the stranger.

"How bad has he been shot?" Alex asked as they stepped out onto the night air. As the cold air nipped at her skin, she suddenly wished she had put on more clothes.

"Can’t say," Chris answered tautly. "There’s a lot of blood loss. I saw a wound on his throat and at least one at his chest."

Alex considered the information and then inquired. "How’s he breathing?" She asked as they made a beeline for the saloon.

Chris was suddenly aware that her questions were for a reason and he took more careful note of his answers. "He’s having trouble breathing." Chris answered after a moment. "It’s pretty ragged."

"Okay." Alex nodded decisively. "After you take me to him, I need you to go to my room again and get a black trunk. All my surgical instruments are there. I can’t say for certain but it sounds like your friend might have a respiratory trouble, which could mean a damaged lung."

"What else do you need?" He asked as they burst into the saloon that was empty except for the seven and Inez. Nathan was laid out on top of a table as Josiah held a bloodied cloth over the man’s throat. He looked up at them with more fear in his eyes than Chris had ever seen in Josiah before. He and Nathan had been friends much longer than the seven had been together and the helplessness in his eyes was apparent.

Alex did not answer. Instead, she went directly to the injured man. The others in the room stepped aside as the young woman put her bag down and removed the bloodied cloth that Josiah had used to kerb Nathan’s bleeding. Alex examined the injuries and knew instantly that this man’s life hanging by a thread.

"Are there rooms here?" She asked no one in particular.

"Yes," Ezra replied quickly. "You can use my lodgings." He answered, concerned etched all over his face. Even though Ezra and Nathan had begun their relationship on the wrong foot, there was no doubt that he considered the healer one of his best friends and that no sacrifice was to great.

"Get him up there." Alex ordered a course of action already set before her. "I need lots of hot water." She looked to Inez. "Keep boiling it until I saw otherwise. "

Inez nodded and hurried away to the kitchen while Josiah and Ezra lifted Nathan gently off the table and started up the stairs. Alex turned her attention to JD and Chris. "What are you waiting for?" She barked. "I need that trunk!"

"Yes ma’am." Chris replied and walked out the door with JD following close by.

When they were gone, Alex hurried up the stairs the men had disappeared with her patient. She found herself at the head of a narrow hallway. She assumed the man who had offered his lodgings was obviously situated at the end of the corridor. The other doors were locked shut and Alex assumed that saloon girls conducting ‘business’ mostly likely occupied those rooms.

When she entered the room, the two men had already placed the injured man in the bed. The amount of blood on their clothes and on the crisp white sheets heightened her concern. He was losing too much blood and the facilities for transfusion did not exist. The technique was relatively new in Europe and she was uncertain if it had reached American hospitals, even if she could get him to a hospital alive. The bleeding had to be stopped immediately or it would not matter how well she put him together, he was still going to die.

Josiah and Ezra stepped aside and let the woman take charge of the situation. Both of them felt similarly helpless as Nathan continued to bleed before them. "Can you help him?" Josiah asked, trying to understand how god could allow this to happen to Nathan of all people. Seeing his friend so close to death made him question his belief in the Maker.

"We need to get these clothes off him." Alex ignored the question asked but looked at them as she made the statement. She removed a pair of scissors from her bag and began snipping the clothes of Nathan’s bloodied torso. As she cut strips away of soiled material, her breath caught seeing the extent of damage. Three bullets had penetrated his body. The most prolific of these wounds was to the man’s chest. Judging by the location of the entry point, he was exceedingly lucky that the bullet had not penetrated his heart. Unfortunately, the near miss had not fared him any better. Instead of hitting the heart, it had entered the patient’s lungs.

"He’s drowning n his own blood." She replied. "Where’s that damn trunk!" She swore. She had to get into his chest and she had to do it now.

No sooner than she had uttered those words, Chris and JD arrived carrying the trunk.

"Its here." Chris replied, having heard her outburst.

They set it down at the foot of the bed and Alex hurried to it and unlocked the chest. Swinging it open, the men saw why she had needed the box so urgently. Inside was a wide array of surgical instruments, scalpels, tweezers and such, all gleaming under the light.

"Can you help him?" Josiah asked again, needing some kind of an answer.

"I don’t know." She finally answered, knowing that their concern was deep and they needed to hear something positive. Except Alex did not want to lie to them. "His injuries are severe. I can’t make you any promises."

"Who did this to him?" Josiah swore angrily.

"Someone ambushed him." Chris shook his head, wishing more than anything that he could answer Josiah’s question. The normally serene preacher was understandably angry. It was Nathan that had brought the preacher to the family of the seven. Chris himself was similarly enraged but he was capable of controlling his emotions better. The images of Nathan’s body in that puddle of blood had stayed with him all through the hard ride back to Four Corners.

"Why?" Ezra asked. "Of any of us, why Mr Jackson? He was just a healer..." His voice trailed of as the gambler tried to understand the reasoning. At least if they understood, perhaps they could then do something to avenge Nathan, instead of sitting on their hands having to rely on this stranger to save one of their own.

"Look, you can debate this later." She interrupted. "Right now, I need to get this man’s chest open and I’m going to need one of you to assist me." She looked at the four men in the room.

The boy positively turned ashen at the prospect of assisting in surgery and Alex decided than and there he would faint at the first sight of an open chest cavity. The older man was reluctant but not as shaken by the idea. She had a feeling he would have forced himself to help her even if the possibility terrified him. They exchanged glances with uncertainty. Alex did not blame them for viewing her request with trepidation. She had seen the bravest men shirk from the possibility of surgery. Assisting in the process seemed doubly terrifying. Nevertheless no sooner than she had spoken, Chris stepped forward before she could say any thing further. He was unprepared to let the others do anything he was not willing to do himself. Nathan was his friend and Chris was not about to let him die because he was feeling squeamish. "I’ll do it." He said firmly.

"No," Alex shook her head. "You’re not sterile." She saw his face hardened as he prepared to protest. "Look I’m sorry," she said quickly. "You’ve been riding most of the night, you’ve got dust and dirt all through your clothes. I’ve got to open up his chest right now and you’d be more of a risk to him than you would be helping."

The man in black glared at her with penetrating eyes that were not used to being refused on many things. However, she also saw that her patient meant a great deal to him and that meant his wounded ego would have to come second to what was necessary.

"I’ll do it." Ezra said stepping forward. "I have been inside all day. I am not exactly fresh as a petunia but I think I will suit your hygiene needs."

"Good." She nodded. "We don’t have much time. Everybody else out, now." Taking a deep breath, she whispered under her breath. "I need to get to work."

*******

It was the wait that Chris Larabee hated more than anything was.

His mind took him back to an earlier time when he was a different man. It was hot night like this one and he had promised her he would be home before the baby came. Of course, he was late. She was never angry but he knew she was disappointed when he broke his promises. He broke his last promise to her the night he came home from Mexico and found her screaming his name, as the baby prepared to make its arrival. He remembered never being so scared in his entire life during those hours after he had summoned the doctor and was forced to wait outside while his son was being coaxed into the world.

Those had been the longest hours of life until now.

Now, as he waited with Josiah and JD while Alex Styles and Ezra fought to save Nathan’s life, Chris was reminded of that terrible memory. A bottle of whisky sat unopened in the middle of the table, while Inez hurried up and down the stairs with hot pitchers of water, to sterilise the instruments the doctor needed for surgery. An hour after they had been ushered out of the room upstairs, Buck and Vin made their arrival back to town.

"What’s happening?" Buck demanded as soon as he had cleared the doors and seen them waiting.

"The doctor’s with him." JD answered. "She’s says he’s hurt really bad."

Buck could well believe it. He saw the same thing that Chris had seen and knew they could not have reached Nathan any later or else he would have died. It was a minor miracle that he had clung to live for so long. Perhaps healing so many had given Nathan the will to survive.

"We found Nathan’s horse." Vin informed Chris as they joined the rest of the seven at the table. "Those tracks we found earlier were all over the place where we found him."

"I don’t understand why." Buck said genuinely bewildered. "I mean Nathan’s a healer for god sakes. Until he hooked with us, he’d never crossed anyone."

"I found the empty shells." Vin said grimly. "Whoever shot him tried to empty every bullet in the chamber into him. They wanted to him dead Chris."

Chris nodded, digesting the information. He could understand one or two bullets being wasted to dispatch a potential threat, if that was how the men who had shot Nathan perceived him. However, firing all bullets at a man indicated a more personal reason. It felt like vengeance but Chris could not guess why. "We need to talk to Mary." He stated.

"Mary?" Josiah looked at him in puzzlement.

"She’s known Nathan longer than you have Josiah," Chris pointed out to the preacher. "If he has enemies, she might know who they are."

"Where’s Ezra?" Buck inquired, noticing that the gambler was not present at the table. His gaze shifted as he saw Inez coming down the stairs, looking exhausted. The sultry bartender had spent the last hour running up and down the stairs, providing the doctor with hot water to sterilise her instruments for surgery.

"He’s up there with her." JD gestured to the top of the stairs. "She said she had to perform surgery on Nathan and she needed Ezra to help."

"What’s happening Inez?" Chris looked at the woman as she came towards them.

"I did not get much of a look." Inez confessed running her hands through her dark hair while Buck rose to his feet and pulled a chair out for her. "Miss Styles would not let me get to close to Nathan. She said something about keeping the field sterile."

"She’s got a real thing about that." JD replied. "Just like Nathan." He added remembering the healer’s predilections. Suddenly, JD fell silent because Nathan was fighting for his life and the boy did not like facing the possibility that Nathan could die. He tried to imagine life in Four Corners without the sympathetic black man who always had time to help everyone, no matter how dangerous the situation. It just did not sit well with JD that someone could act so cowardly and ambush a man who had saved so many of their lives.

"He ain’t going to die." Buck said confidently. "If that pretty gal says that she can put him back together again, I’m sure she will." However, he did not seem as sure and could hardly make a snappy remark when Inez placed wrapped her arm around his and squeezed it tight. He looked into her eyes and saw that she understood he was putting up a brave face because he simply had to hope for the best. Buck Wilmington was incapable of facing the worst.

"I’m going to talk to Mary." Chris rose to his feet, unable to stand sitting around any more. He needed to act and he needed to do it now.

"Chris, it way after midnight." Vin called out as the leader of the seven strode towards the doors of the saloon.

"I know." He replied, having already taken the late hour into consideration. However, he knew Mary well enough to know that she would have resented not being told immediately. Nathan was her friend. She had once faced a group of homicidal drunks with a shotgun to save Nathan’s life. No one would who put themselves in the line of fire like that would do so unless they had a very good reason. Late hour or not, Mary would want to know about Nathan and Chris might be able to get the answers as to whom might have done this to him.

*******

Ezra watched her work and could not help be impressed by her skills. There was no doubt or hesitation in her face, just the marked determination to get the job done and save a life. All other thoughts of propriety were brushed aside as she began to cut into the ruined flesh of Nathan Jackson. Until she had cleaned the blood off his body, with Ezra mutely holding a tray for the disposal of the bloodied scraps of clothing, he had not realised the extent of the damage. There were three bullet wounds across Nathan’s body. There was a bullet wound in the throat, one a fraction off centre from his heart and another in his side.

Her concern was mostly centred on the bullet lodged in Nathan’s lung. Ezra could well understand why. Even from his secondary position, he recognised the shallow breathing coming from Nathan; the breathing that was growing more laboured as time drifted past with uneasy pace.
"The wound in the throat is mostly superficial." She explained as she started cutting into the skin to remove the bullets in his torso. "If he lives, the worst it will cause is a temporary halt of his singing voice."

"He does not possess one worth the loss." Ezra joked; attempting to sound clever but the remark emerged as a quiet whisper.

Nevertheless Alex threw him a bemused smile before turning back to her patient as she held back the torn tissue that had soaked the bullet in its folds. "Get that long nose clamp." She gestured towards the instrument lying on a tray a top of the trunk. Ezra reached for the instrument and handed it to her, however Alex did not take it from him.

"Now, I need you to lean forward." She said looking at him intently. "Can you see it?" She nodded at the opening in Nathan’s flesh that she was currently holding apart with what she called a rib spreader. Ezra strained forward and saw a glint of dark grey almost obscured by blood. It could hardly be recognised as a bullet but there was no doubt as to what it was.

"I see it." He said swallowing hard. Although Ezra did not want to appear squeamish, the sight of all that blood was disturbing him. Nevertheless, the gambler retained his composure in front of the lady.

"I have to keep the ribs apart so that we can get to the bullet." She explained hoping that he had the nerve to do what she was about to ask of him. Alex could see beads of sweat under his forehead that had nothing to do with the summer heat. Like most gunmen, he was only used to causing the wounds. She doubted if he had ever seen the consequences of a gunfight once the actual shooting was done. "I need you to reach in with those clamps and remove it."

His eyes flew to hers immediately. For a man accustomed to having most situations well in control, her request had almost reduced him to panic. His eyes darted from Nathan to Alex, as he struggled with the impulse to refuse. "Madam, perhaps that would be a task better suited for you...."

She cut him off before he could finish that sentence. "I’m holding him open so the bullet can come out. This is not up for negotiation. The bullet has to be taken out now." Alex said firmly, emphasising in her tone the urgency of the situation. Ezra wanted to run out of the room and ever forget that he had volunteered to help her, however, to do so would be to doom Nathan to death. Unlikely as their friendship had been, Nathan was an important part of his life and Ezra did not intend to disappoint him. He would deal with his apprehension later. Right now Nathan needed him.

"Just reach in?" He looked at her uncertainly.

"Yes." Alex nodded. She saw the stark terror in his eyes when she had made the request and admired him for being able to put aside those fears for the sake of his friend. Until now, she had not really paid him much concern because her attention had been focused on the patient; however, she was now glad that she had. Alex lingered on her observations for a second before returning to the matter at hand.

Ezra met her eyes once more and saw the young woman give him the go ahead to begin. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the narrow opening and tightened the clamp around the hard projectile. The bullet was slippery with blood and fluid. Somehow, Ezra managed to retain his grip and withdrew the clamp gently. The bullet remained trapped in place, gleaming with moisture. Ezra was transfixed by it for a moment, trying to associate this small projectile with the significant injuries it had inflicted on Nathan.

"Nicely done." Alex smiled. "You’ve got great hands."

"Well," Ezra shrugged as he dropped the bullet into a small steel receptacle. "I have been told that on occasion although I prefer to display my skills in a more monetary pursuits."

"I look forward to seeing exactly what you mean by that," she chuckled before returning her attention to Nathan. There was still much to do and time was not much more time than they had before.

While they entered the next phase of the procedure, Ezra could only remain in silent contemplation as to what she meant by that remark.

********

There was a time when it was unthinkable for him to appear at her doorstep at this time of night but one of the first things Mary had done with the change of status quo between them was give him a set of keys to her house. Since they shared the same bed more than three or four times a week, it was necessary for Chris to make discreet exits in the early hours of the morning, since he was adamant about guarding her reputation. So far, his clandestine departures had gone largely unnoticed by Four Corners and until there was some formal declaration about their relationship, he wished it to remain that way. Mary’s position in Four Corners relied upon her virtue as an upstanding, member of the community and Chris did not wish to be the reason for that alteration.

On this occasion, he slipped in through the backdoor as he always did, careful that no one observed his presence. It was dark in the Travis house which was hardly a surprise considering what time it was. When he was not with her, Mary was an earlier riser and that meant she went to bed at a reasonable hour. Considering what she took on each day, he supposed it was necessary for her to get her a rest. Under normal circumstances, Chris would not dream of waking her but he did not relish facing her wrath if the news of Nathan’s injuries were kept from her until morning.

It was never wise to provoke her temper.

Chris moved silently through the house and made his way upstairs, trying not to make a sound as he climbed up the stairs. The wood creaked underneath him but not enough to cause any concern. The hallway was dimly lit by the lamp on the wall, which Mary had taken to lighting in the event of his nocturnal visits. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and Chris entered the room to see her lying serenely among the crisp white sheets. He could hear her soft breathing and the iridescent glow of her skin under the moonlight.

Chris admired her sleeping shape for a moment, watching the luminescent skin rising and falling. Her gold hair was splayed around the pillow and although she was wearing a nightgown, the urge to slip into the covers with her was overwhelming. He leaned over and brushed his fingers against her cheek, savouring the silky texture against his palm.

Mary stirred slightly at his touch and her lashes fluttered as her hand reached for his. A slow smile stole across her face when she looked up at him. "Hi." She said dreamily.

"Hello." He returned her gaze and leaned down to meet her rising lips. It was hardly a passionate kiss but it was more than enough to completely lose himself in the power of her.

"Come to bed," she whispered invitingly and Chris almost did before he remembered why he was here.

"Mary, I have some news." He said with enough of an edge in his voice to put Mary on guard. Immediately, the tender moment between them faded and she returned his stare, aware that something terrible had transpired.

"What is it?" She asked, starting to sit up.

"Nathan’s been hurt." He said simply, ignoring the curvaceous outline of her body beneath the thin cotton of her dress. With everything that had taken place tonight, he was ashamed to admit that Mary had been almost an afterthought in his mind. When there had been time to catch a breath, Chris realised that Mary would want to know that Nathan had been hurt. Of all the seven, she had known the healer longest. Chris knew she considered Nathan a good friend.

"Hurt?" Her blue grey eyes widened. "How?" She gasped.

"All we know is men ambushed him on the way back from the reservation." Chris replied automatically and fast becoming weary of having to give that same answer repeatedly.

He saw her face cloud over with the same confusion that had gripped all of them when this information had been made known. She sat quietly for a moment, digesting the terrible news. "I’ll get dressed." Mary pulled the covers aside and rose from the bed. Chris watched in silent appreciation as she padded to her wardrobe and let the nightdress fall from her shoulders. "How badly is Nathan injured?"

The image her alabaster skin was immediately driven away by the darker memory as how he had found Nathan Jackson flashed in his mind. Chris opted to give Mary a slightly more sanitised version of what he had seen. "He took a couple of bullets." He answered. "The doctor is with him now."

Mary looked over her shoulder, blond hair swaying across her bare back like a shimmer of gold. "Doctor?" She asked. "What doctor?"

"She got in today." Chris answered, realising that Alexandra Styles would have seen little reason to report to the newspaperwoman when she had arrived.

"She?" Mary looked at him hard.

"Alex Styles." He reminded her so that Mary would realise that ‘Alex’ was not necessarily a male name.

The realisation that the doctor was female was not as much of a concern to Mary as how Chris knew her. Nevertheless, she would query the acquaintance some other time. "What does she say about Nathan?" Mary inquired as she covered her bare skin with layers of slips and undergarments.

"Its touch and go." He said grimly. "He lost a lot of blood Mary." His eyes involuntarily indicated to her that while they should hope for the best, the possibility of the worst had to be kept in mind as well.

"Who would do this?" She said she disappeared into the washroom attached to the bedroom. "Could it be some of the men you have encountered in the past year?" He heard her ask.

Chris shook his head in response. "Could be but I don’t think so." He replied considering the question with deeper scrutiny. "They waited for him out of town so someone knew he was going to the reservation today. They wanted to get him alone. I don’t remember Nathan crossing anyone in the last year that they would come after him specifically. If anyone was a target, it should have been me." He said sombrely.

"Now Chris," Mary appeared from the wash room, drying her skin with a small towel. Still clad in a slip and petticoat, she placed herself on his lap and slipped her arm around his neck. She knew where he was going even before he voiced it. "This is not your fault." She declared firmly, refusing to tolerate any guilt on his part. He already blamed himself for too many things in his life that went wrong and she was not prepared to let him assume responsibility for another. "Nathan would have gone to the reservation even if the whole Confederate Army was coming after him. You had no reason to talk him out of going. Besides, I doubt if you could have anyway. Trust me, I know him longer than you do."

"You’re pretty when you’re mad." He said with the barest hint of a smile.

Mary returned his smile and kissed him lightly on the nose before she got up to get dressed again. He was starting to take heed of her little snippets of advice, sometimes involuntarily. However, it was Mary’s ability to make him feel light in the darkest moments of despair that was part of the reason why he was so in love with her.

"Anyway," she said slipping on a familiar apricot coloured dress with modest neckline, he had seen her wear when she was not required at the Clarion. "If what you say is true then who ever shot him was after him personally."

Her conclusion was one he had reached himself. "Yeah," he nodded. "So would you know if he had enemies before the rest of us came to town?"

She considered the question thoughtfully as she braided her hair. "Before you arrived in town, Nathan was only healing. He did not do anything else. Most people were pretty nervous about having a black man being the only doctor around so he stayed pretty much out of sight."

"That’s what I thought." He said unhappily. It was clear something was bothering him beyond the obvious.

"What is it?" She asked concerned.

"Can’t say." He replied honestly. "But I hope it ain’t just the beginning of something worse."

********

Two bullets were removed from Nathan Jackson’s body and he was still breathing. As far as Alex was concerned, this was a good sign. She had been working solidly for almost two hours now, trying to repair the torn flesh the bullets had created so that her patient would have half a chance of surviving the next few hours. Muscle and sinew were sewn together with catgut, allowing Nathan’s damaged lung a decent chance of recovery. Statistically it was possible to survive with one lung. However, Alex did not want to discount in before every effort had been made to repair the damage. The bullet she had removed from his side had penetrated the liver but fortunately that particular organ was regenerative so his own natural processes would soon take up whatever repairs she had made.

The surgical gloves she was wearing over her hands were red with blood when she finally dropped the last instrument into a bowl of hot water, cleaning the stains of the strong surgical steel. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her forearm and turned to Ezra. "I can do the rest on my own." She said breathlessly, obviously exhausted. "You can go if you like."

He was tired and he did want to go but something would not let Ezra leave just like that. He had watched this woman do work that would make most men shudder, without reservation because it was her calling to do so. "I prefer to remain." He said sincerely. "What else is there to be done?".

"Now?" She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan. "Nothing really," she answered. "I’ll need to bandage the wounds but that’s pretty much it. I administered an anaesthetic so he will be out for quite awhile. He has lost a lot of blood so he will sleep to regain his strength. I don’t think you can count him entirely out of the woods just yet," Alex said taking a deep breath. "However, he survived the surgery and that means he is strong and he is a fighter. A good combination."

"I can personally attest to both those qualities in Nathan." Ezra replied. "My friends and I had reason to doubt your skills when you had first arrived. I for one do not have further any doubts as to your qualifications."

Alex was in the process of bandaging Nathan’s wounds when she heard him say that. The woman paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder. "Thanks," she said knowing that it was as close to an apology as she was going to receive. "I know it was hard coming to me for help."

"His life was all that mattered." Ezra glanced at Nathan who was oblivious to everything around him.

"You are all very close aren’t you?" She observed the camaraderie between the men ever since she arrived in town and later on, when the man in black had come to her help. She guessed it was not easy for any of them to trust strangers but a deep fear for one of their own had forced them to put their faith her.

"Without becoming unnecessarily sentimental," Ezra tried to sound non-committal. "We are comrades in arms and perhaps brothers in our self - imposed exile."

"Its good to have friends." She agreed as she fastened a metal clip to hold the bandage in place around Nathan’s throat. With that, she had done all that was possible for the healer. Now it would require something beyond what she had learnt in medical school. Nathan’s face had taken on an expression of peaceful slumber and Alex hoped his dreams were pleasant. She replaced the linen around him with fresh sheets and bundled up the soiled ones to dispose. Finally, she pulled a blanket over him and stepped away.

"Its up to him now." She sighed, stripping the latex gloves off her hands. They were stained with blood and Alex tossed them in the bucket Inez had left for purpose. She looked down at herself and saw that her clothes were stained with blood and would require laundering, if they were at all salvageable.

Ezra could see the shadow in her eyes and knew the minor miracle she performed tonight had taken its toll on her as well. At that moment, she looked a universe away from the beautiful woman who had stepped off the stage this afternoon. With a sudden flash of insight, he looked at her and had to ask. "Have you done this before?" It never occurred to him to ask until now. Earlier on, she had acted with such confidence that they had all believed she must have been a seasoned physician. However, now he was not so sure.

Alex met his gaze uncomfortably. "I have assisted and I have seen the surgery done before but no," she shook her head putting to rest that particular question. "I’ve never operated on my own before."

"You should have said something." He declared, remembering how terrified he had been to simply remove a bullet with a pair of clamps. He could not even begin to imagine how frightened she must have been to conduct the surgery all on her own for the first time.

"You didn’t ask." She half smiled. "Besides, if I had said something, none of you would not have let do my job and he would have died. Isn’t that true?"

Remembering how Buck had behaved earlier that afternoon and Chris’ startled discovery that their new doctor was a female, Ezra could not defend his friends by saying otherwise. "You are correct." He nodded. "We would have been blinded by our concerns for his well being. I thought you were a doctor."

"I am a doctor being a lady doctor in this day and age is a kin practicing witchcraft to some people," Alex tried to explain as she began packing up. "It has been made clear that we are not wanted. I applied for a dozen position across Europe in the worst places and they still would not accept me because of my gender. I read somewhere that they were desperate in the American west for good physicians, so I took a gamble and came out here."

Ezra understood what it was like to be on the other end of a male dominated society. He had seen his mother battle it all her life. While she used schemes to succeed in her ambitions, Ezra knew if she had been a legitimate businesswoman, she would have been a tycoon by now. These days, things had improved considerably. However, progress still rarely allowed for the influx of women into professional fields to be treated indiscriminately. "You have my respect Miss Styles."

It suddenly occurred to Alex that she had no idea what this man’s name was. "What do they call you anyway?"