Vin Tanner deftly reined the horses pulling the Army's artillery
wagon to a standstill, set the brake, pushed his hat brim back, and
uncorked his canteen. Tipped to his lips, the canteen released a slow
trickle of water down Vin's throat, carrying away road dust and
satisfying his thirst. He recorked it, setting it down beside him,
ignoring the coughing coming from the murdering thief sitting astride
one of the team of horses.
Vin had tied up the fellow snug and tight and had made him walk
behind the wagon most of the way until his captive kept stumbling and
falling. Seeing it as an impediment to getting paid promptly and
setting forth on the trail to Tascosa, Vin had finally stopped, jumped
down, and yanked the fellow to his feet, shoved him to the front of the
wagon, and forced him to struggle up atop the wheel horse. Vin saw it
as taking pity on the guy, considering all the dirt and manure he'd
been eating back there. It was probably a bit painful for the fellow
to have skin peeling off his hide from being dragged along the ground
whenever he fell. Took Vin a bit to figure out what the caterwauling
had been about before he relented, or so he told the idiot. He grinned
at the thought.
It hadn't taken much to track down the loaded stolen army wagon. The
thief had been sound asleep when Vin crept up on him and emptied
the man's weapon of its shells as he snored away. Vin figured the
fellow was downright stupid and inept anyway for thinking he could get
away with an artillery wagon of all things. The fellow had killed the
driver and left a Sergeant behind to die. Vin would turn him over to
the Army to surely hang. And he'd pocket the $5 he'd earned by
tracking the artillery wagon down and returning it.
The fellow took to running after Vin woke him, some paper money
fluttering in the air as the guy stumbled, tripping and nearly falling
to his knees. A few strides is all it took for Vin to catch up and haul
him down, hogtieing his captive to one of the wagon's wheels until Vin
was ready to hit the trail and return the wagon to the Army.
It was then Vin had discovered a passel of money stuffed in the pockets
of the man's jacket. Vin realized there was more to this theft than it
seemed. Obviously someone had paid the fool to steal the loaded wagon.
"Where did he get the money and who gave it to him?" weren't the only
questions Vin wondered about.
Whoever wanted the artillery must have had plans to use it, but what
exactly was their plan? Vin tied Peso and the thief's mount to
either side of the wagon then set out to meet up with the Army unit,
deliver the wagon to the Sergeant, and let the Army know what he
had found. Reckon he best let the Army take care of it from there. He
and the others were no longer the Law.
He'd been thinking a lot over the past few hours about the sudden
changes -- brought about by one Marshall Bryce -- that had turned the
lives of the Seven around. Judge Travis had let them go, albeit
grudgingly. The railroad was behind it. Life would never be the same
with the railroad taking over much of the Land. Some folks saw it as
progress and coming prosperity. Settlers were coming in droves
changing the landscape, stripping away what was natural, cutting up the
Land, bringing so-called civilization to the territory, and driving out
or killing off the Peoples who had always lived there, living in
harmony and partnership with creation. Vin knew that time would always
bring change. Nothing ever remained the same. Sometimes the changes
were just too hard to swallow. Vin had already seen too much that had
once been good, just as God had made it, destroyed.
Now the bonds he'd formed might just unravel. Heck, he wasn't but
a man who'd had his share of friends in his life and ridden a lone
trail as well, but danged if being a part of the Seven hadn't been
a powerful connection he'd come to count on. Reckoned if it were meant
to be he'd meet up with one or more of them again. In the meantime he
had business to tend to, like getting this varmint and the artillery
wagon off his hands.
Vin shook the reins at the horses, setting the wagon back on the
trail. The thieving varmint astride the one jerked awake, having dozed
off, and nearly fell to the ground. Cursing under his breath, he hung
onto the harness awkwardly with his bound hands. Vin had his thoughts
elsewhere as the wagon rolled slowly along. He got to thinking on
those last few moments back in town when the Seven had parted.
Though the changeover to the Marshal had come suddenly out of nowhere,
Chris immediately decided to tend to his own unfinished business
and track down the truth behind the murder of his wife and child.
Chris had headed South to Purgatorio. Vin would head East, towards
Texas, to hunt down Eli Joe, drag him back to Tascosa, force his
confession, and clear his own name. He had that bounty hanging over
his head and would until he nailed Eli Joe. Though Chris had planned
to ride with him before they'd been hired by the Judge, Vin knew that
Chris, now more than ever, needed to find justice for his dead family.
It was time they each rode their own trails. They'd put it off to help
out the town and Judge Travis and now they'd been set free of their
obligation. It was time to ride on.
Vin knew it was just a matter of time before Marshal Bryce ran
across the Wanted Poster on him. He'd been jailed had he stuck around.
JD, in his naivete, encouraged Vin to tell the Marshal how he'd been
framed, but Vin knew that wouldn't fly. Best he get on the trail to
Tascosa, find Eli Joe, and force the truth out of him before Vin was
caught. Vin thought on JD and the others as he drove the wagon.
JD. Vin smiled as he pictured the Kid. JD'd grown in ways in the
time they'd been together. He was still so wet behind his ears but he
was more a man now. JD'd been through a lot of fire, honing new found
skills, making big mistakes. There'd been times when Vin figured
they'd come to bury the Kid sooner than later. JD seemed determined to
leap before looking, running pell mell into the midst of trouble.
Somehow he'd made it through -- usually unscathed bodily -- but who
knew what lay deep down in his soul? Vin thought long on his own
youth and how he had to learn the hard way at times. The pain of his
own dark memories washed through him. He shook them off. Vin's lips
pressed thin as he hoped in his heart that he'd see the Kid again,
safe, sound, settled maybe with Casey, a gaggle of kids around them,
and out of any line of fire. Vin knew that the life of a gunman would
never give JD the chance to have the future he deserved.
Vin's thoughts turned towards Casey, the young niece of Nettie Wells,
as he spotted a small homestead in the far-off distance, and the
horses picked up pace. Vin shook his head as he remembered how he had
first met Nettie and Casey. Vin's heart skipped a beat at the thought
of leaving Nettie behind. She'd become part of his heart, as had
Casey. Nettie reminded him of his Ma who had died when he was just a
little fellow. She too was a feisty and rock-hard solid pioneering
woman like Nettie. Casey was growing from a tomboy into a young lady
before everyone's eyes. JD's bewilderment over womenfolk sparked
another chuckle from Vin until he took notice of the varmint still
riding in front of him and urged the horses into a rough trot, shaking
his prisoner hard. Might even shake some sense into what little mind
the fellow probably had.
Shifting his weight on the seat, Vin turned to look over his
shoulder to check on Peso. The gelding had been his only family for a
long time now. Then Judge Travis went and rounded up him and Chris,
Nathan, Buck, Ezra, Josiah, and JD and made them responsible for
keeping the peace around these parts. As disparate a bunch as they
were, they'd come to trust in one another. Now it was over in the
blink of an eye. It had been a long time since he had been a part of a
circle; that was back when he was living with the Comanche and Kiowa
before they were driven off onto reservations or massacred, people he
knew as friends and family. Since then Peso had been his lone pardner,
his trusted friend, until he'd become one of the Seven.
Family. Chris was the only one who'd been married and had a child
-- both wife and son now gone. Vin'd seen the pain that haunted Chris.
He thought on how Chris took to Billy Travis when Mary's small boy
returned to town. They'd tracked down the boy when he ran away,
fearful of the devil who'd murdered his pa. Mary and Billy had taken a
special place in his own heart. He'd come to know Mary as a friend.
She stood with them, was there when Judge Travis gave them their
walking papers. He'd watched her walk over to the livery, talking to
Chris. Vin knew that Mary had feelings for Chris. And he also knew
Chris would never love another woman like he must have loved Sarah.
Billy reminded Vin of himself when he was that small; both lost a
parent so young. It wasn't easy on a child. He knew. Mary poured
so much love into Billy that Vin knew that the boy would make it. Just
as Vin had. When his ma had died he and his pa had clung closer
together. The thought tugged on his heart and he straightened, shaking
the reins at the horses who broke into a canter, jarring the thief all
the more, cursing his captor. But Vin needed to get on with it and
pressed the horses more.
The faint pealing of the town's church bell carried on the wind as
Vin and his captive drew nearer. They were still a ways away. The
bell reminded him of Josiah. J'siah. Working on restoring the church,
ministering to whoever needed him. Vin could go to Josiah to talk or
just to sit beside, knowing Josiah understood whatever was going on
inside him. Josiah never preached at him. He was as close to God
as any Holy Man Vin had known among the Peoples. He trusted Josiah.
Trust. He once would've thought he'd be hardpressed to use Ezra
and trust in a sentence together. Vin chuckled. Ezra tried to cover
that heart of gold of his with his shenanigans but Vin could see
through to Ezra's soul. Ezra would be all right... eventually. That
is if he didn't get tarred and feathered first. He'd miss him. Him
and his highfaluting words. Ezra reminded him of that wiley Coyote
that the Peoples saw as some trickster, teaching them some good and
some bad things about living. Underneath all that con stuff, Ezra was
a good man. He didn't know it yet, but Vin did, smirking at the
thought.
Buck. Buck would stick around town for awhile until he ran out of
fillies then, Vin figured, Buck would go hunting Chris down and help
salve Chris' soul and his own and mete out justice to whoever had
Sarah and Adam murdered. Vin knew that despite Buck's priorities
seeming out of sorts, they'd all been able to depend on Buck coming
through in the nick of time. He'd put his life down for any of them.
Buck had a fun side to him but he had a bigger heart, a heart that
gathered up his friends. Yeah the big feller would be at Chris's back
until Vin crossed trails with them again.
Vin knew he'd miss Nathan a lot. Of his fellow peacekeepers, he'd
known about the healer first. Nathan had been there for Vin whenever
he struggled inside himself. When self-doubt rose up and bit him, Vin
knew that Nathan would be right there next to him, reading him and
knowing him better than he knew himself. Nathan would let Vin know
the good that was inside him and draw it out. Nathan had more than
healing hands. He had a heart that reached out and healed people's
souls. Both he and Josiah.
Vin's thoughts circled round to Chris and the friendship that had
sprung up in the midst of that cemetery. They'd walked alongside
one another as warriors to stop Nathan's lynching and, in those
moments, forged a bond that had grown until this very day. Vin pulled
down the brim of his hat as he lowered his head. He knew in his soul,
although they weren't riding together for now, that their trails were
destined to cross down the road again. Having lived with the Indians,
Vin had come to believe that What Is, Is. Change was constant. Whether
you called it destiny or fate, or what the Indians named Mystery and
Spirit, whatever drew them together meant it to be. And whatever might
happen down the road would be because it was meant to happen for a
reason.
The church bell rang loudly, rapidly now, as Vin neared town. He could
hear gunfire and screams coming from that direction. He whipped the
reins and hollered at the horses, breaking into a gallop. As they
broached the hills ahead, the horses strained at their harness, digging
into the soil, hauling the wagon up towards the crest overlooking the
town. Smoke was rising high above the buildings.
Vin slowed the horses then pulled them to a stop near a grove of trees
atop the hill. He jumped down, reached for his spyglass, his eyes
searching the chaos below. Vin could see flames burning atop several
roofs. People ran from the townskirts, screaming and shouting in fear,
scattering away from horsemen firing at them. His feelings for the
people down there pressed him to act, but his instincts told him one
man alone couldn't do much but die were he to rush in. His gut told
him that whoever was attacking the town just might be connected to the
theft of the artillery wagon. His throat parched, he drank deeply from
his canteen, working out a plan.
Behind him came the sound of two horses racing towards him. He
recognized the cadence of Pony's strides and a second horse carrying a
lighter rider. Vin knew it was Chris Larabee. He turned. Mary was
with Chris, a gun holstered on her hip.
Life spun quick as a cowpony on a dime and often. In a moment Chris
and Vin would ride together. And round up the rest of the Seven to
ride again.
The End
