No Good Deed (2 of 2)

Too soon their plates were empty and Vin sat back, content. He wasn't much for hearth and home, but he thought he might be beginning to understand Chris's fondness of it, under the right circumstances.
Meghan smiled at him over the flickering candle and he smiled back. She wasn't as pretty in the dim light, the dancing shadows giving her features a hollow, lonely look, but he still didn't mind staring at her. And he didn't think other men would either. Surely she could get a husband given the opportunity. It must only be, like she said, being way out here in the damn-middle of nowhere that had prevented her meeting anyone of an age and eligibility to be a valid prospect.
When Meghan finally rose, gathering the utensils and plates, Vin reluctantly stood as well. "Yer gonna help with the dishes, too?" she asked, amazement filling her voice, to the point where Vin thought she must be exaggerating for effect, though her sweet features would not give her away.
"Wasn't plannin' on it," he said with a smile, but lifted his own plate just the same and placed it in the bucket next to hers, then grabbed the rope handle. "But I'll carry this outside if ya answer a question."
She nodded.
"Ya maybe got any clean bed sheets?" he asked as he held the door open for her.
"Fer the barn?!"
This made Vin laugh, though he knew she wasn't making a joke.
"No, got my bedroll fer out there. I meant fer yer bed."
She gave a half-hearted laugh, an echo of Vin's, then said, "Try the trunk at the foot of the bed." He nodded, set the bucket full of dirty dishes beside the water pump, then returned inside the house.
There was a trunk, an old one with tarnished brass hinges. He lifted the heavy lid and found a few old dresses, which looked like they were made for a shorter, finer-boned woman than Meghan -- her mother, most likely, Vin figured. Then, on the bottom, he found what must have once been white sheets, now yellow with age. They were clean, though a tad musty from the confinement, so he took them outside and spread them over the wash line. Though he could not see well enough in the darkness, he could feel the delicate lace trim along the one edge and wondered if these sheets weren't part of Meghan's mother's trousseau. He'd once seen his own mother's wedding bundle, after she died, when his aunt had gone through her things. Her sheets hadn't been nearly as nice, though he seemed to remember them being very white.
Maybe Meghan had been right about her mother after all, Vin thought as he ran his fingers over the soft lace edge. Maybe she had come from money and ran off for love, or excitement, or something, way out west. But how could a woman so adventurous have a daughter so unwilling to live?
Vin shook the thoughts from his head for the moment, then used the wooden paddle to beat some fresh air though the linen fabric. Allowing the sheets to hang in the gentle evening breeze, Vin retrieved the two down pillows he'd previously seen in the bedroom. As he returned to the wash line and pinned up the pillows he thought that, while he would never even think to spread linens on the floor of a barn for his bed, he wouldn't mind borrowing a pillow for the night. Maybe she'd offer him one, he hoped, as a small reward after all his hard work to give her a pleasant night's rest.
Soon he was back inside the house, hauling the mattress in through the open window and settling it onto the wooden frame. When he turned to go back out, he found Meghan standing in the doorway, her arms full of pillows and linens. He took them from her and tossed them onto the mattress, sorting through them until he found the laceless sheet he assumed was meant for the bottom. He than handed the other items back to Meghan to hold, while he spread the sheet over the faded, blue-and-white-striped ticking.
He smoothed out all the wrinkles, but when he reached the corners, he was at a loss. Meghan deposited her armload again onto the bed, then moved beside Vin to show him how to fold, then tuck the sheet neatly beneath the mattress. He moved down to the other corner and repeated what she had showed him, though his results were less than perfect. But she only smiled and made no move to correct what he had done; but, in the time it had taken him to do the one, Meghan had completed the remaining two.
The pair then moved the pillows out of the way, to the head of the bed, then spread and smoothed the top sheet out. Vin folded his lower corner under, glancing up to mark his competency against Meghan's as she did the same to the opposite corner. Once complete, they tucked in the sides, then Vin watched as Meghan folded over the top edge, pointing for him to do the same on his side. She then ran her hand over the delicate lace edge, which, despite its obvious age, seemed to shine in the yellow glow thrown by the oil lamp on the bureau.
A moment later she turned away, suddenly leaving the room. Vin's heart flinched, as it had done earlier when he'd seen her begin to cry in the barn. He was about to go after her when she returned with her arms over-flowing with the freshly-aired quilt. Vin came over and felt through the pile until he found two adjoining corners. But before he could begin to unfurl the material, he glanced up to meet Meghan's eyes, wondering if she knew how much he was trying to make her feel better. Wondering if his small efforts could some how make a real difference to her.
He smiled at her and he saw, for the first time, her returning smile reach all the way up into her eyes.
Had he thought about it before speaking, he never would have risked breaking the moment to ask, but he didn't think. "Ya sure there ain't nothin' else ya wanna do in this life?"
"Might be one thing," she surprised him by saying. And she didn't have to say anymore; he knew what it was she wanted.
And that was all the thinking he did before grabbing the quilt from her and tossing it onto the freshly made bed. A moment later, Meghan, caught up in Vin's arms, followed the quilt.
Once his lips met hers, he realized he'd been wanting to kiss her since the first, since he'd seen her through his spyglass removing her hat to let her wavy, brown hair tumble free -- that same hair which he now ran his fingers freely through. He couldn't believe the feel of it, softer than one of Ezra's silk cravats, like water running over his bare skin. And her lips as they yielded gently to his forward advances still tasted of the luscious, fresh tomato they'd shared for dessert.
Soon his fingers began to pluck at the small buttons of her blouse and a moment later, she followed his lead, as he'd done previously with her, though she seemed to have better luck with his buttons than he'd had with the sheet corners. Once her collar was open, he pushed the fabric aside and moved his mouth to the delicate skin just beneath her ear; instinctively, she arched her back and Vin knew the touch was giving her pleasure, though he was careful not overdo it, lest he tickle her and break the mood with a fit of giggles.
Soon she had all but his lower buttons undone and he sat up to quickly undo the last two before slipping out of both his suspenders and the broadcloth before tossing the shirt aside. He then finished with her blouse and, with her help, eased her arms from the sleeves. Beneath she wore a plain, cotton chemise with no corset. She hadn't said exactly how old she was when her mother died, but perhaps she hadn't been old enough to have formed a habit of wearing the confining undergarment, Vin thought.
Meghan laid down again, then reached to her waist to undo the buttons of her trousers -- the main reason Vin hadn't immediately known she was a woman when first he'd spied her.
Vin made quick work of his undershirt, tossing it onto the growing pile beside the bed. But once he exposed skin, Meghan stopped her work and moved her hand forward as if drawn to the pale, sinewy flesh. She hesitantly traced a fingertip over the tight muscles of his flat, thin stomach, swirling it around the sparse, light-brown hairs. She then added the rest of her fingers and eventually began to rub the flat of her hand over his skin.
Vin's mind briefly flashed back to that afternoon, by the river, when he'd placed his hand over hers; he'd wanted then to feel her touch on his skin. And, now that it was happening, it felt like a dream. Her palm was soft, yet strong, as she kneaded the heel into the ripples of tissue. And Vin could feel the organ still contained within his trousers growing with the need for more contact.
Vin reached down to her waist, to complete the task of undoing her britches which she now seemed to have forgotten, but with her sitting up, the angle was awkward and he was making little progress. Just as Vin was about ready to rip the uncooperative fabric from her hips, Meghan removed her hands from his body and returned them to the waistband of her pants, a moment later having freed the restraining buttons.
He knelt down before her and removed her boots and stockings. Then Meghan leaned back on her elbows in order to raise her hips enough for Vin to slip her pants and leggings from under her butt, and down off her legs. The material was then tossed, forgotten, to the floor.
When he stood, she reached up and grabbed a hold of the waistband of Vin's trousers. But he placed his hands on her, stopping her for a moment. He knew once they went any further there might be no turning back. He didn't want this act, this sharing of pleasure, to return to haunt her one day, causing her sorrow or pain.
"Ya sure?"
She nodded, but he waited for more. Finally she added, "I won't regret it come a new day, not if it makes this one worth living through."
He didn't know if that meant the new day would be any more worth living for, but he could hope.
He allowed her to unbutton his trousers, but he slipped them from his hips, pulling his boots from his feet as he pulled his legs out of the pants.
Vin stripped the chemise from her body, then stared at her naked form until he saw her begin to blush with self-consciousness. Not meaning to make her uncomfortable, he quickly averting his gaze, as he pulled his own leggings free, tossing them aside with their other articles of clothing.
He stood staring at her for only a moment longer before taking her hand and encouraging her to her feet. He'd felt her in his arms before, in the barn, as tears had filled her. He wanted to feel her against him again, this time with nothing between them, no clothing, nor relived memories of past sufferings. This was all new for her and he wanted nothing to taint that. These new pleasures would be her new beginning, Vin silently vowed.
"Meghan," he murmured into her hair, as he gently swayed with her in his arms. She kissed his shoulder in response, running her hands down the length of his smooth back, but stopping just at the level of his hips. He moved one hand around behind himself, then took her hand, guiding it lower until her palm caressed the rise of his butt. Her other hand soon followed a similar course. Vin then placed his hand back on her body, moving up from the tops of her thighs, to her hips and waist, then finally brushing against the soft sides of her breasts. He felt her tremble at the pleasure of his touch and he smiled.
Her own hands continued to move over his body, finding new regions to traverse, new muscles to trace, new curves to ride. But while she randomly explored, Vin chose his intended path. He slid his hands inward, moving his thumbs beneath her breasts, caressing the outsides gently with his fingertips, before moving his hands to the front, finding each mound slightly too big to completely capture with a single hand. But capture was not his goal and as he felt her nipples begin to harden beneath his palms, he began to slowly move his hands in circles, gradually increasing in circumference each time. As the nipples firmed, they began to tickle the skin of his palm and to distract the hell out of Meghan, who'd allowed her hands to slip from his body as her eyes closed and her head lulled back.
He heard soft moans in her throat as he continued to beguile her supple breasts with his hands. "Vin," he finally heard her breathe. "Vin!" And, in that moment, he couldn't imagine not being with her this night, not sharing the most intimate of acts. He didn't know if it would lead to anything else, so he settled for hoping merely for the possibility of more nights to come between them.
He bent his head down then and captured her right nipple between his lips, gently sucking and pulling the nub into his mouth, running his tongue over the firm, yet yielding tissue. He moved his hands behind her back now, to support her as he felt her begin to shudder beneath his ministrations.
She felt so right in his arms, so perfect. And his body was responding readily to her: the quickening of his heartbeat, the growing ache in his loins. Vin had been with a few women over the years, though rarely more than once, so he knew well the awkwardness and frustrations of a first coupling. But he felt none of that anxiety with Meghan; everything between them seemed so nature, so easy.
Finally, he moved his whole arm around her back, then shifted to reach his other arm behind her knees, scooping her up in his arms and gently laying her across the bed. He then kneeled on the floor beside her to kiss her left breast as he ran his hand up and down her stomach, each sweep bringing him nearer and nearer to touching the soft brown curls which concealed what would be the ultimate source of her pleasure this night.
He felt her fingers tangling in his hair, sending shivers down his spine as her nails gently raked across his scalp. Then a finger dipped low enough to stroke the outer rim of his ear, down to the slightly more sensitive lobe, then lower to trace the length of his jaw line.
But before he became too distracted, Vin reminded himself that this was for her and he must not rush things simply to satisfy his own growing hunger.
He eased himself up onto the bed, straddling her hips, then ran his eyes from her face to her neck, shoulders, breasts, and finally the flat of her stomach. Her skin looked like fresh cream in the sallow light of the lamp, so smooth, so soft. He couldn't help staring at her. "You are so beautiful," he finally whispered, but this seemed to only cause her to turn her head away and to draw her arms across her exposed chest.
But Vin wouldn't have that. He gently took her hands in his, guiding them up above her head to rest there on the pillow. He then allowed his fingers to trace back down the length of her arms until he reached her shoulders. Moving his hands over and straight down, he gently brushing over the soft mounds of her breasts.
After a few moments, he looked up at her face and found her watching him once again, her gaze no longer averted. She smiled hesitantly, quite unsure what this little adventure held for her. So, he bent low, until their noses almost touched. He raised his eyebrows as he asked, "Nervous?"
She nodded.
"Don't be," he smiled. "I'll be gentle, as gentle as I can. Promise."
Again, she nodded. Then he kissed her until her hands came up from the pillow to his hair, then slowly down to his shoulders and across his back -- her simple touch making him feel as if he could melt right into her. His own hands had found her face and were now cradling her cheeks as his thumbs moved slowly over her jaw and under her chin.
He then scooted himself down, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as he slid lower and lower until, finally, he allowed himself the pleasure of her curls. His body was between her knees now and he used his fingers to brush through the short tresses, twisting one hair around the tip of his finger, tracing the top edge of the patch, then moving down along the side to where the skin tucked in against her thigh. With his thumb, he moved to where her flesh split, gently caressing the edge of the two folds, allowing the hairs there to tickle his skin before he pressed slightly forward, just enough to slip between.
He immediately felt the warmth of her as the folds enveloped his thumb, he then moved down until he bumped into the nub he knew would be there. Adding his other thumb, he encircled the sensitive tissue from the top, around the sides, until his thumbs met beneath. He then retraced the path, back and forth, lingering sometimes at the bottom to knead into the flesh, sometimes at the sides where he pushed against the tiny mound, or at the top where he dared to run his thumb right up to trace the top of the peak in a circular motion.
He was now aching with the need to enter her, but he forced himself to stay his pre-appointed course. Vin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will his body into obeying his rational thoughts and not his escalating desires. But his need to be inside her was great, his need to feel her hips rising up to meet his own was almost more than he could bear.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, then to exhale, only afterwards realizing how close Meghan's delicate tissues were to his mouth. She squirmed when his warm breath caressed her, so he repeated the process -- continuing to quell his loins, while exciting hers.
Vin opened his eyes again; he could see the rise and fall of Meghan's stomach and could even hear the depth of her own breathes. When he finally plied his tongue to her small nub, he was pleased to hear a sudden, sharp gasp, then a long, slow moan as he moved his tongue over the trails his thumbs had already blazed.
As he continued to lap his tongue against her, adding moisture to her already slickened folds, Vin slid his hands between her legs, then beneath to slip under and capture the cheeks of her butt. When his tongue finally found her soft opening, Vin used his hands to lift her up to meet him as he plied his soft muscle against and then into the warm, yielding hole.
He could feel Meghan's legs tense at the, perhaps, unexpected intrusion, but she began to relax as Vin continued to move his tongue over her flesh until she finally shuddered and his ears were met with a raspy sound that was his name, "Vin?"
He lifted his head then, wiping his mouth against his arm before sliding his body over hers, until their lips once again met. Despite her inexperience, Vin didn't need to tell her to lift her knees as he used his one hand to guide his penis into position. He nudged against her opening until he was able to push the tip inside. Again she tensed and he felt her fingers dig into the flesh of his arms as her head was throw back, her features clenched, waiting, anticipating, but when no more pain came, she began to breathe again.
Vin kissed her soft features, easing the worry and tension from them, until he felt her whole body sink back against the mattress. Only then did he move his hips forward, slowly, just the smallest distance, before easing up, then moving forward again. He swayed gently into her until he felt his hips bump hers. He then stopped his movements and raised himself up on this arms to look down into her eyes.
Vin liked the feel of their bodies in complete contact -- him inside her, him pressed against her -- and he hoped she did as well. He smiled and waited until she smiled back before he lowered himself to his elbows then resumed the gently, now-more-rhythmic movements of his hips.
He kept his body low over Meghan's, liking the slight quiver her taut nipples caused him as they brushed against his chest with each thrust, and he could feel his own tuft of curly hairs rubbing against the folds of her skin, grinding gently against the nub concealed there.
The tingling in his loins came on suddenly, too quickly for him to again still the dire urges. He had wanted to make this last all night. He wanted to be inside her, close to her, like this until it was the only thought in their minds, the only memory, the only dream. But he craved the aching which was now beginning to spread into a painful throbbing as he pushed harder and faster into Meghan.
Her own hands had moved from his arms to his back, and were now on his hips, her fingers on the rise of his butt, encouraging him onward, pressing against his flesh as if she could any more control what they had begun than he could.
He felt her breaths coming in gasps now, short whiffs of air against his cheek, then sharp intakes, and silence in-between, until she moved her head back, her mouth wide until her gasps became cries, and then screams as her whole body seemed to tremble beneath him.
A moment later, Vin's own body mimicked hers, as the sudden explosion of his seed inside her forced a cry from his own lips. He continued to push into her, to shove himself against her hips, flesh and bone grinding against each other, until every last drop of his seed was expelled along with every shred of energy.
As the pleasure ebbed over him, his muscles and joints began to shake and he could no longer support himself above Meghan. As gently as he could, he shifted his hips, then rolled himself onto the mattress to press his spent body against the length of her side.
His hand found Meghan's, his palm against the back, and he threaded his fingers over hers. Her other hand came up to caress the side of his face, his cheek, then, when her fingers reached his lips, he kissed them, moving the tip of his tongue idly against them.
Vin felt her breathing ease before his did as her hand moved slowly from his face across his shoulder, finally coming to rest on his arm.
"Meghan," he said softly next to her ear.
"Hmmm?"
"Yer comin' with me in the mornin'," he'd decided.
"Where?" she said in the middle of a small yawn.
"Back ta town."
"Ta do what?" she asked, her voice less sleepy than it had been a moment before. "Be with you?"
He thought on this a moment. "If ya want," he finally said, not wanting to force her into a relationship she wasn't ready for, not wanting her to feel trapped, and not wanting to make her feel obliged to him in anyway, for anything that had happened between them.
"If I want?"
This was her life and while he might want to force her to live it, he certainly wouldn't tell her what to do with it. "Yeah."
"Fer how long?"
Vin shrugged. It didn't have to be about them: how long she stayed, how long he stayed. She could do what she liked, just as long as she lived. "Ya could get a job."
"And who's gonna hire me? The saloon?"
"Or the hotel or restaurant. Hell, maybe ya could even work at the newspaper," he offered, thinking there must be something this woman could do to make a new life for herself, one that she wanted to live instead of one that she wanted to end.
"Like some man is gonna hire me to print 'papers!" she scoffed.
"Ain't no man, it's a lady. Sorta a friend of mine, so I could put in a good word fer ya."
She was quiet for a moment before responding. "But I can't read nor write. Pa never thought it mattered much fer a man, even less fer a woman. Ain't no way, Vin -- friend of yers or no -- that I can work at a newspaper."
"There'll be somethin' ya can do, Meghan. I'm sure of it. It's a real nice town; ya might like it," he tried to convince her. Anything was better than just waiting for the bank to foreclose on her land.
"Yer not gonna take no fer an answer, are ya?" she finally asked.
He smiled, then slipped a hand down to her waist to rest on her stomach as he nuzzled his face against her neck. "Nope. Ain't gonna leave ya out here alone." Then he teasingly added, "I'll hog-tie ya ta the back of my saddle if I have ta."
He saw Meghan nod before pressing her head back into the pillow and closing her heavy eyelids. Only then did Vin allow himself the same indulgence, but not before pulling the soft quilt over to cover their naked bodies
Vin slowly came awake as the light of the morning sun finally rose high enough to stream in through the bedroom window to land on his face. He'd changed positions in the night, ending up with his own pillow on the far side of the bed.
So he rolled over, intent on spooning up against Meghan to wait for her to wake, but as soon as he turned over, he realized he was alone in the bed.
Vin was normally a shallow sleeper and an early riser, so he figured the only reason he'd slept so late and hadn't heard Meghan stir was because of the softness of the bed and the many exertions of the day and night before. Maybe Meghan was an early riser, too, and she'd chosen not to wake him; maybe she was even up preparing a breakfast for them to share before they headed off to find her a new life.
Vin slipped quickly into his leggings and trousers, ignoring his suspenders hanging from his hips, before pulling on his boots. Then he stepped out into the room which served as both kitchen and dining area, but Meghan was not there and the fire in the stove was merely smoldering from the night before.
He stepped further, out into the parlor, where two chairs sat before a cold, empty hearth. Again, there was no sign of Meghan.
Vin moved quickly back through the kitchen and out the rear door, to the small garden he had found her in the evening before, but it was empty, save for the few remaining vegetables that wouldn't have seen the girl through the fall, let alone the winter out here.
Not even bothering to cross to the gate, Vin merely hopped over the low fence and headed for the barn. He had a bad, bad feeling growing in his stomach and he couldn't stop himself from breaking into a run.
He slid the door open and stepped inside, clamping his eyes shut, willing them to quickly adjust to the dim light of the interior, then he opened them and scanned the barn. There was no sign of her and, only then, did he dare to raise his eyes, to check the rafters -- but, to his immense relief, the barn's roof was slanted not peaked, with no exposed beams from which to secure a rope.
He moved over to Peso, to give him a handful of feed, but then noticed the horse was alone. The stall Meghan had used to board her own horse was now empty. "Aw, hell," Vin exclaimed and the admittance made his empty stomach churn sickeningly inside him. He had to place a hand on his horse to steady himself as the feeling of dread flooded through him.
A moment later, he was at the tack shelves, grabbing up his saddle and bridle. Not prepping Peso, other than to brush the dirt and few bits of hay off the animals back with a quick sweep of his hand, Vin tossed the saddle onto the horse, then did up the girth.
Peso shied away from Vin's frantic hands as he hurriedly tried to slip the bridle on, finally allowing the harnessing only a moment before Vin reached the point of striking out at the beast in frustration. Then, after cinching the girth a bit tighter, Vin stepped into the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle.
He left the barn at a gallop, not even stopping at the house to grab his shirt, jacket, or guns.
He didn't know where she might have gone, but the only place he knew to go was where he had first seen her the day before. The lone oak in the middle of the range. He'd start there, then work his way back until he found her. He had to find her. Vin and Peso were both sweating hard when they finally caught sight of a riderless horse, grazing not far from the river, not far from the bank where he and Meghan had retrieved the animal the day before. He seemed to like this spot, Vin thought, almost smiling to himself.
As he approached, the tracker stood high in his stirrups, scanning the area. But there was no one around. He dug into his saddle bag and retrieved his spyglass, then repeated his survey, but Meghan wasn't anywhere in view.
"Meghan," he finally cried out, desperately hoping she would answer him, that she could answer him. "MEGHAN!"
Vin dismounted near her horse, noting she had removed the animal's bridle and saddle. He found them on top of the rock where she'd sat the day before, staring into his eyes and telling him they were the color of the sky.
He scanned up and down both the near and far banks of the river, hoping to find her fishing for their breakfast, or even bathing in the shallows, though this location was too far from her house to make either a real possibility.
Then he saw something odd, a glinting in the water. Without hesitation, Vin waded out into the river, until the water was midway up his thighs. He saw it then, laying on the rocky bottom. He reached down, not caring how wet he got, and pulled the revolver from the water. He checked the cylinder: there were five bullets and one spent chamber. He couldn't tell when that missing bullet had been fired, how many days, hours, minutes ago. The metal of the gun was cold against his skin, colder than the river's water running past his legs.
His stomach felt hollow as he continued to stand there. His breath was stilled as his lungs seemed to momentarily forget how to function. And his head began to swim as tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He tried to swallow, but the muscles of his throat were too tight to respond.
She stood there, he knew, with that gun in her hand, the barrel to her head or ... or in her mouth. And she pulled the trigger.
Vin's arms went slack with the realization and the cold steel of the gun slipped from his now-numb fingers back into its grave at the bottom of the river.
Ignoring the bile which rose up in him and the trembling in his limbs, Vin turned and pushed his legs forward, moving himself out of the river, running back to Peso and throwing himself once more into the saddle. He urged the gelding toward the river, turning to follow the course of the water, pressing Peso faster through the shallows as he searched the banks.
He both prayed and feared that he would find her body, caught up against a fallen tree trunk, or tangled in some reeds. He tried to keep the thought of what she might look like from tainting his memories of her. He didn't want to see her like that, but worse, he couldn't stand the thought of her lying out there, somewhere, alone.
Eight days later, Vin's weary body was carried into town on his weary horse, with a dark brown gelding in tow. He stopped at the livery only long enough to beg a favor from Tiny, the owner, to take care of the two horses.
He didn't know yet what he was going to do with Quinn. Selling the horse would be too much like admitting she was really dead. And, without having found her body, Vin didn't think he could do that.
Vin stepped out of the barn and back into the sunlight, though its warmth didn't touch him. Then, slowly, he walked down the length of the street, oblivious to the other people who shared it with him.
When he reached his wagon, he crawled inside, pushing away the clutter until there was room for him to lay down on the small bedroll he always kept laid out. He curled up on his side, pulling his hat over to cover his face, then tucked his hands close into his chest and cried.
The End

March 2001
Comments to: C.V. Puerro
Please do NOT repost this story anywhere outside of the Blackraptor Fiction Website.
This story is based on the characters from "The Magnificent Seven," which is own by The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, and CBS Worldwide, Inc. The story itself and the character 'Meghan Riley' belong to the author. No copyright infringement is intended and this story will not be sold for any reason.