Setting: Old West
Rating: PF — Profanity and AC- Adult Content
Disclaimer: A fictional work based on the CBS tv series The Magnicent Seven. I don't own any part of the show or characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only, without profit or gain of any kind.
Author's Note This story contains references to child abuse that might been disturbing to some readers.
This short story was inspired by Eric Close's work with Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch which pairs abused children with rescued horses and adult leaders at 24 wilderness ranches around the U.S. and Canada, to help restore the heart, soul, mind and strength of the kids http://www.crystalpeaksyouthranch.org Merry Christmas to all...
The sky was gray and even though it was just a few hours since dawn, it was clear that it would be a cold and cloudy day. The mustached rogue turned the collar of his coat up and hunched down against the chilly air. It was a couple weeks until Christmas and the stores were stocking up on extra merchandise. That meant his fellow peacekeepers and himself had to keep a sharp eye out. The extra money in the registers was often a temptation to the unsavory elements in the territory.
A harsh voice from down the street drew his eyes away. He recognized Gus
Harcom the owner of the dry goods store. The object of his wrath was a tall youth who had been shoved from the doorway into the street. He couldn't hear all the words spoken but the ones he did hear indicated that Gus had accused the boy of something underhanded and the boy was denying the charge in very colorful language. He rose up and shoved the owner hard, standing over him with his fists clenched. Buck put his mug down and was ready to move into action, when the youth turned and ran off. He sighed hard and shook his dark head.
"That boy's got a lot of hurt in him."
Buck Wilmington's soft tone edged in sorrow brought Chris Larabee's head up. He'd just stepped out of the saloon with a mug of coffee. The air had a bite in it and the warmth of the liquid was welcomed. His green eyes followed the tilt of Buck's head towards the youth in question.
Justin Dalton was the newest member of the community. He lived with his grandfather in a small cabin outside town. The fourteen-year old had been in and out of trouble since his arrival a few months back after his parents died. The infractions in the beginning were minor. Starting fights in the schoolyard, breaking windows with rocks and pulling pranks on some of the businesses in town. But lately he'd turned violent and two of the stores had been broken into and one of the clerks had suffered a minor injury. They couldn't prove it was him but the items taken along with the narrow window broken led them to believe it might be him.
"I'll handle it."
Both heads turned at the raspy drawl that came from behind. Vin Tanner's soft tred often caught them all off guard. He moved like a panter, sleek and silent. He edged up next to Buck and took the mug of coffee offered. He took a sip and handed it back.
"I don't know know, Vin."
Buck was seated between the two standing peacekeepers and his eyes shifted from the question in Chris's reply to Vin's adamant stance. It was no secret that Tanner was stubborn and often he and Larabee didn't see eye to eye on a subject. But the respect they held for each other was strong and that was the difference.
"I won't be back until after dark," Vin replied, tugging his floppy hat down and stepping off the boarded sidewalk.
"Leave it go, Chris," Buck suggested, not missing the concern in his friend's pale eyes which were following Tanner up the street. "That boy's got a bone in his teeth and you ain't gonna pry it loose."
"That kid's becoming a problem," Chris dictated.
He was the unofficial leader of the seven peacekeepers and it was him that the storeowners had turned to with their compliants. The vandalism and broken windows were getting out of hand. A few witnesses thought it was Dalton but couldn't be sure. Chris had ridden out to the shack to talk to Otis Dalton, the boy's grandfather. The old man was frustrated as well, lacking the strength and patience to handle a rambuctious teenager.
"Maybe Vin can talk some sense into him," Buck answered, sipping his coffee and watching as the Texan rode out of town. "Before that kid becomes the undertaker's problem."
Justin was perched high on a hill, watching the cabin. He saw Vin Tanner riding towwards it and flinched. For a moment, he felt fear creep into his gut. Tanner was smart and no doubt he'd been in town and seen what happened. He'd have to be more careful. He couldn't afford to get caught. Tanner should mind his own business.
He shook his head and climbed down from the tree. He stole through the woods until he reached the haven he'd created. If only he could stay here; if only they'd leave him alone. They didn't understand, how could they?
He crawled back inside and only when he was alone in the dark did he relax. They'd find him, especially if Tanner was elected. He knew from what he'd heard around town that he was a tracker. He even lived with Indians for awhile. The voice came then, his father's voice. That cold, arrogant and overbearing tone. He shut his eyes and held his hands over his ears. But the voice only got louder
"You're a stupid piece of shit, you hear me boy! You can't do anything right. It's a sad day that you were born. I should have drowned you then and saved us all the trouble you are. You're worthless... you hear me boy. Answer me!"
He flinched as the painful words drove into his soul like hot nails. His mind's eye revisited those dark years. He saw the small boy run for cover but his little legs were not match for a large man. His mouth formed a silent scream of agony as the beefy hand grabbed him. The pain exploded again as it always did when the board his his back, backside and legs.
WHACK
WHACK
WHACK
WHACK
Hot tears sprung from his eyes and he rocked in agony, crippled to drive away the leering face that haunted him still.
"You're a stupid, worthless piece of shit... You'll never amount to anything."
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" He screamed, kicking the crates and rampaging through the cavern. "Shut up!"
But the echo still found him.
Otis Dalton eyed the gray sky and sighed hard. Just past seventy, his bones ached whenever cold weather was on the horizon. Managing his own needs was hard enough. Since his grandson came to live with him his troubles multiplied overnight. Now there was barely enough food to keep them going and without firewood, there would be a cold hearth. He also had to get the water from the spring and try to fix the hole in the roof. His gray eyes roamed to the broken fence that surrounded his cabin. He'd told the boy to fix it a month ago. Half the time he had no idea where the angry youth was.
He struggled with the ax, wincing as his back protested. He trudged to the clearing where a short stand of trees were waiting. He eyed the trees and then ax. Frustration sent a soft curse through the breeze. Life had become a trial every day since he'd shed a younger man's clothes.
"Hold on, I got it."
Tanner eased off his mount and secured the horse, then walked to where the fragile old man was standing. He laid a hand on the woolen shirt and gave a tug. He knew Otis was a proud man and how hard it was for him to accept the changes in his life.
"Where's the boy?" He asked, his blue eyes not missing the hopelessness in the old eyes before him. The slump of the shoulders cried out in a show of defeat.
"I don't know, Vin. He didn't come home last night..." Otis sighed hard and scrubbed his weary face with his hand. "I just don't know what to do..."
'It's alright, Otis, ya git back inside, it's cold out here. I'll get ya plenty o'wood. Then I'll find him."
He nodded and started back to the house. He turned then and watched as the young man easily moved into action. The axe went through the wood without effort. Funny it didn't seem like that many years gone by since he'd built this cabin with the same muscle and grit as this man had.
With every swing of the ax, Vin tried to calm his temper. It wasn't bad enough the boy was causing trouble in town, he was causing grief to the only person in his life who'd shown him kindness. He saw the bruise on the old man's face and that angered even more. He had to find some way of reaching Justin. He also knew that wouldn't be easy. The trail was as clear as any he'd come across. He knew the signs and from the small hints that Otis let slip out, he'd guessed the rest.
Otis was at the small table when Vin entered the room. It was freezing inside the cabin and that set his jaw even more tense. The boy had no reason to leave the old man without heat. He quickly got a fire going and shook the coffee pot. He moved outside and found the rainbarrel empty.
"Otis, how long ya been without water?"
"I been bringing a few buckets up each day, Vin. That's been empty for..." he shook his head and shrugged. "I just don't know..."
"S'okay, Otis, I'll take care of it. "
An hour later, the barrel was almost full and a hot pot of coffee was brewing. Vin found enough flour to make some biscuits and a old jar of honey. He put the meager meal in front of the old man and eyed the empty cabinet. It was clear Otis couldn't continue like this. Then he saw something in the old man's eyes that hurt. Shame was clearly spelled out.
"No call fer that, Otis."
"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, "It's not his fault. His father was too hard on him."
"I suspected as much," Vin replied, his brows creased in worry. "He been strappin' that boy since he was a little feller?" The white head dipped and tears came to the old man's eyes.
"...worse..." Otis managed. "Broken bones... he'd say the boy fell or..." He paused to try to gather up his scattered emotions. "He's almost a man Vin. It's too late... he's gonna end up with a bullet in him or gettin' his neck stretched. Sometimes I see the want in his eyes. I just don't know how to reach him. I tried... he denies he's hurting. I don't think he knows how to handle it."
"It's rough..." Vin agreed. "But he ain't hopeless. All this actin' out he's doin' is a call fer help."
While the old man ate, Vin's eyes were on the horizon. Then he got an idea and saw a glimmer of hope born. It was a long shot , but then anything worth fighting for usually was. First order of business was getting the old man into town. It was clear he was hungry and tired. Then he was going to find Justin Dalton and start him on the road home.
"Otis, git yer things together, I'll take ya inta town," Vin announced when the old man rose to clean his dishes.
"Into town?" Otis frowned, "I don't understand. I told Will Brown I didn't have any more money. I'm awful sorry, I didn't think I'd end up in jail."
"Jail?" Vin spun around his eyes hot. "I ain't takin' ya t'jail. I'm takin' ya t'the boardin' house. I got a room the judge pays fer that I hardly use, somebody outta get use out of it. Food comes with it. I'll square it Mae Kramer. She's a good women, she'll take good care o'ya. Ya can't stay here Otis." He paused and frowned ."What's Will Brown got to do with this?"
"He rode out last week after his store was broken into. He was looking for Justin and he was angry . I told him I didn't know anything about the store or where the boy was. He said I had to give him six dollars for damages. Vin, I don't have that kind of money. I gave him a few pieces of silver I was saving. He said that wasn't enough and he took my watch."
"Took yer watch!" Vin was seething. "What he done was wrong, Otis. He ain't the law. I'll git yer watch back."
Will Brown heard the jingle of the bell above the door that signaled he had a customer. He put down the leather saddlebag he'd been working on and moved to the front of the tannery. He peered around the store but didn't see anyone. Then he found himself shoved hard into the wall. Two gunbelts that were hanging on display clattered to the floor.
"Ya listen up ya stinkin' varmit!" Vin hissed, pressing his forearm harder into Brown's throat. "Ya ain't the law in these parts and ya had no right strong armin' that old man. I want his money back and the watch."
"I took restitution!" Will choked over the steely grip. "Unhand me!"
The words no sooner left his lips when he was flipped around and his right arm twisted up his back. He was then forced across the room to the display case. His face was shoved down only inches above the glass.
"Ya can hand it over or I'll shove yer face through and ya can fetch it with yer teeth!" Vin ordered.
It was then Will saw a low slung black gunbelt trimmed in silver riding low over black pants. He knew before his head turned sideways.
"Mornin' Will," Chris greeted, casually leaning against the wooden counter where the register was located. He pressed the sale button and the drawer opened. "How many?"
"Answer 'im!" Vin ordered, pulling Brown upright.
"Three... pieces..."
Chris took three pieces of silver and then ambled over to the counter. He tapped the glass and didn't hide his disdain. "Get the watch..."
Brown fumbled badly but pulled out the watch. He nearly dropped it but Larabee took it. He backed up so far he knocked a vase over, sending it to the floor. The green eyes were lethal.
"Don't fuck with me again, Will!" Chris charged. "Next time, I'll lock your sorry ass up."
Chris took the money and watch and left the trembling store owner with a quivering bladder.
Vin watched until Larabee was across the street and headed into the boarding house. Mae Kramer had quickly taken over, preparing a hot breakfast for the feeble old man and assuring them he'd be looked after. Then he turned and walked slowly towards Will Brown. The weasle's eyes darted as if seeking a hole to crawl into. Vin cornered him and left his own calling card.
"Ya even breathe wrong near that old man and yer hide's gonna be hangin' over the door, understand!" Vin warned and then spun on his heels.
Chris was exiting the boarding house when he saw Vin Tanner storm into the saloon. His spurs chewed up the boardwalk and he used long strides to catch up to his troubled friend. Ezra was behind the bar taking inventory. A few patrons were seated at the other tables.
Ezra turned when his side vision caught a blur of tan. He watched as Vin Tanner helped himself to whiskey and poured a shot into a mug of coffee. He saw Chris arch a single brow in surprise at the unTannerlike action
"Starting a bit early aren't we Mister Tanner?"
"Shut up, Ezra," Vin growled. "I ain't in the mood."
Vin took the mug to a table and sat down. He took a sip of the coffee and his disgruntled features didn't go unnoticed. He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the hot brew.
"Otis said thanks," Chris imparted, tossing his hat on the chair next to him. He raked a hand through his hair and watched the normally staid features of Vin Tanner morph into dangerous territory. "The kid's lucky he's not wearin' a hole in his chest."
"It ain't his fault," Vin replied, taking another sip.
"Look, Vin, whatever problem he's got, he's big enough to know right from wrong," Larabee argued. Then curiously, Vin's anger disapted and he saw something he didn't like in the sky eyes. The Texan took a quick look around and noticed Ezra wasn't in the room anymore. The softness in Vin's voice was colored with pain from long ago, the kind of ache that never truly leaves you.
"I know where's he's at, Chris and it's a shitty place. Ya git kicked around like a dawg fer yers, talked down ta, beat the fuck up. It's wears on ya, 'til there's nothin' left inside. Ya lash out cause when yer in a corner, it's the only way ya know." Vin sighed hard and shook his head.
Chris drank in every painful word and realized just how much this was hurting Vin. The hand that lifted the mug was trembling a little bit and it made him wince. Looking at Justin was like looking back in time. Vin never disclosed much about his past but it would seem that after his mother died, he'd been living in a very dark place.
"Damn Tanner, that's more words you've said since I met you." Chris heard the soft chuckle and the light reappear in the sad eyes. "Anything I can do?"
"Ya already have," Vin replied, "Jest by sayin' that. I know he's done wrong and he's got makin' up t'do all over town. But I think I can reach 'im."
"Sounds like quite a job," Chris supported quietly. "And only one man I know to handle it."
"Thanks," Vin's gratitude was evident and he rose, draining the mug. The arm came out automatically as it always did. He locked onto the forearm and gave a single nod.
Now that Otis was safe, the hardest part of his task was ahead. He knew the hills around that cabin and there was only one place that a kid like that could hide. A place where he could store away the things he'd taken. A refuge from the cold world that he felt had kicked him in the teeth.
An hour later, he eased off the horse and eyed the broken boards that had been nailed over the opening to the Emily Rose. The old mine had been deserted for years. Every once in awhile they had to nail the boards back up. He ducked inside and tred softly, watching the amber light. A small fire was burning and he could smell meat cooking. His eyes took in the items lying around. He'd only what he'd needed. Some blankets, a shirt, some food and dishes. Before he could go any futher, something hard hit him from behind.
Chris was on his way to the post office when J.D. intercepted him. In the reflection of a window across the street, he saw the derby first and tried to look away.
"Chris!"
Too late.
He turned and waited for the slight built figure to catch up to him. The youthful sheriff was out of breath and his cheeks red from the wind. He was wheezing a bit when he reached his side. Dunne started to talk and ended up coughing.
"Don't be pukin' your milk up on me, J.D."
"...not... funny..." Dunne gasped, finally catching his breath. "I've been looking all over for you. I had a full office waitin' on me this morning. Gus Harcom wants me to bring Justin Dalton in, he claims he stole something."
"Stole what?" Chris inquired, lighting a cheroot.
"He's not sure, but he thinks Dalton definately took something."
"You can't arrest somebody for that," Larabee decided " Besides, Buck and I saw part of that. I didn't see anything in the kid's hands."
"And just what the hell did you and Vin do to Will Brown? He wants me to wire the judge and have you two locked up on assault charges."
"He rode out to Otis's cabin last week and strongarmed him for the few coins he had and he took his watch. Vin and I stopped by to ask him about that incident. He wants the judge wired? Fine, you add that to the wire. Last time I checked, robbery was a jailable offense."
J.D. saw Chris's eyes scan the horizon and he had a feeling what was coming. At the town meeting three days before when the subject was brought up, Vin was clearly angry by the cries to have the boy arrested. He'd sipped outside and disappeared. If Vin and Chris had spoken to Will Brown, it was because Vin had ridden out to see Otis. Otis couldn't come into town on his own. Vin was now out hunting for Justin.
"Look, Chris, I know Vin's got a soft spot for that kid but I'm still the one wearing the badge. It's me all these angry store owners visit every day demanding a pound of flesh. It's getting out of hand."
"Vin's gonna find the kid," Chris stated.
"And then what?" J.D. pressed, "He sure as hell won't bring him here. Dalton's a troublemaker, Chris, not another wounded animal Vin can fix." He stopped when the green eyes turned icy.
"He knows what he's doing, J.D. And I'm the law here. You get any complaints about how things are being handled? You tell them to see me."
"Okay but..." J.D. sighed in frustation when the black duster clad lawman spun away and headed up the street. He took his hat off, smacking it against his leg. He had a feeling things were going to get much worse. This was shaping up to be a powderkeg and an explosion was imminent.
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